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A mature wife wants to experiment with light bondage.
"I'm not that clumsy."
"Uh huh. Sure you're not." He took my hand. "Come on."
We went out the back door of the bar to the parking lot. "I'm in the far corner," Javier said. "Didn't want to take a chance on anyone dinging my car."
"Good thinking." I pointed to the twelve-year-old hunk of tin we were passing. "That's mine. I don't care if anyone dings it."
"Hey, as long as it runs, it doesn't matter what it looks like. But I'm still paying for mine, so I want to make sure it stays in good shape."
We walked across the lot to a small silver car. Javier took a set of keys out of his pocket and pushed a button on the keyring. "I have a lot of stuff in here," he explained, opening the back door. "But there's a jacket somewhere."
He rummaged around in the back seat and finally emerged with a grey windbreaker. "That should keep you warm."
I set my rose on the trunk of the car, and took the jacket from him and put it on. "Thank you."
Suddenly his arms were around me, pulling me hard against him as he leaned back against the car. Our mouths came together, his tongue pressing against mine. His hand found my breast, fingers pinching my hard nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. I wore no bra; my breasts were small enough I didn't really need one, and I'd been unable to find one to wear with the spaghetti straps of the dress. Strapless bras were useless for me; they always fell down.
I gasped, but made no move to stop him. His touch felt too good. But when his hand left my breast and slipped up under the hem of my skirt, I jumped. "It's all right," he said softly.
"We- anyone could see us."
He slid his hand slowly up my thigh. One finger teased the skin at the edge of my thong. "Would it matter if they did? This feels good, doesn't it?"
Better than good. The combination of his touch and the possibility of being caught brought a rush of wetness to my pussy. But how could I let him do this? "It feels good, but-"
"No but." His finger slipped past my thong to my clit. The first touch sent a jolt through me, and I moaned. "You like this. It's okay, Adrienne. I want you to feel good."
"I...Oh, god!" I couldn't believe I was letting him finger me in the parking lot. I warred with myself; I wanted him to stop, but I wanted him to continue.
His lips found mine again, stilling any protest I might have made. He continued stroking my clit with his finger. I was barely aware of the sounds I made as my orgasm built. As though aware how close I was to coming, Javier moved his finger faster. I came, gasping and moaning into his mouth, and slumped against him.
He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked my juices from it. "Mmm, delicious." He put his arms around me. "Did you enjoy that?"
"Um, yeah. I guess you could say that." I looked into his eyes, the deep brown eyes that threatened to swallow me. "No one's ever... I've never let anyone do that before."
"You mean finger you? Or finger you in a public place?"
"But it turned you on, didn't it?"
"You are cute when you blush." He let go of me and picked up my rose. "Don't want to forget this."
I took it from him. "No, I don't."
Holding hands, we went back inside. I was sure everyone who looked at me could tell, or at least suspected, what Javier and I had been doing. The thought made me blush yet again.
When Javier and I went out to the deck, we were met by the photographer that Hannah and Deirdre had hired. "Mind if I take your picture?" he asked.
"Sure." Javier put his arm around my waist, and we leaned close together. The photographer snapped the picture, and Javier and I kissed. I thought I saw another flash from the camera, but wasn't sure. I hoped so. I'd need a picture to believe this night was happening.
We spent a while making the rounds, dancing, and chatting with friends.