“It’s a chastity belt,” she said, “because I’ve been a bad girl. But you could have guessed that couldn’t you.”She could see all she needed to and was clearly impressed. She leaned towards him and ran her tongue up the underside of his cock before blowing warm breath on the tip. A sort of non-contact blow job— it was a wonder he didn't spurt all over her face.“Honey, I don’t think I can do this beautiful cock justice and keep the pizza hot. Write your number on the box and I’ll be in touch. Don't tell a soul. If you do I'll find out and we'll buy our pizzas elsewhere. Got that?”The poor kid scribbled the number on the box, mumbling, "Yes ma'am," as he tried to pull up his zip and get out of the door. He must have enjoyed the experience because the number was in big clear writing.“Are you straining inside that cage?” she said as she came in with the pizza. “Was the entertainment to your satisfaction, sir?”“Awesome— you are a wicked girl. Were you serious about that number? The poor kid. Don't get me wrong; I love Tim, and our marriage is solid, but the thought of having drinks with Bill later suddenly seemed exciting.When Tim and I got to the bar, we sat in a booth and ordered a round of drinks. We were almost finished when Tim spotted Bill walking in the door.He came over and slid in next to me in the booth and I could feel his thigh against my leg. I didn’t think much about it at the time. After our first drink turned into another, I realized that Bill's hands were in his lap, very close to mine. Was he trying to send me some sort of signal, or was I reading too much into it? I caught myself hoping he would reach over and put his hand in my lap. I was so distracted by that idea that when Tim said he was going to pay the tab, I jumped a little and muttered something like “Sure...thanks.” Bill slid out of the booth and I followed behind. The plan was for Bill and I to head back to the room and Tim would be along in a few minutes.After the short walk back, I.
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