I suppose trouble follows me because I look for it, but sometimes (more often than not) I find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time (or as I would say, the right place at the right time). Such was the case on New Year’s Eve.
We went for dinner with some friends and then off to the theatre, before we went to a party. I sat between my husband and another couple who we did not know. The show was good and enjoyable.
During the intermission my husband went to stretch his legs and I remained in my seat. The woman next to me, somewhere in her late fifties, a little overweight, but attractive, started a conversation about my dress and how she liked it. She made the comment that I was fortunate to be slim enough to wear short party dresses. I was flattered and somewhat embarrassed, but I thanked her for the compliment.
She asked me if I worked out to stay in shape and I explained that I did. She made several comments about the way I looked and it made me wonder why she was so complimentary. A moment later my husband returned and the play continued.
A few minutes into the second act I noticed the woman next to me, dropped her program from her lap. She reached for it and brushed against my leg. I did not think anything of it until she did it again while retrieving her program.
I froze when she rested her hand on my leg and was unsure what to do or say… so I did nothing. I waited and a moment later she moved her hand in between my legs. I parted them slightly, quite excited at the prospect of what was happening.
Ever so slowly, without anyone (except me) noticing her hand rode up my legs. I usually wear stay-ups and trembled slightly when her fingers came in contact with the edge of the stockings. I dared not breathe as I felt her hand touch the bare skin of my upper thighs.
I innocently glanced at my husband, who was enthralled with the play. I looked the other way and saw the woman’s profile stare directly ahead to the stage, as if she too was enjoying the theatrics. Her hand continued to work its way up between my legs.
Her skin was soft and warm and I shook from excitement as she expertly maneuvered to the spot where my legs met. She stopped a moment as she came in contact with my silk panties, but continued to let her thumb slowly caress them in a back and forth motion.
I felt myself growing moist at her touch. The taboo act was so exciting that I began to quiver under her control. I have been with women before, but never under these circumstances, among so many unsuspecting people.
I looked toward my husband again to make sure the act went unnoticed and suddenly I felt her finger push my panties aside and touch my hard, moist, clit. I trembled, but dared not move as she softly, yet expertly, teased my womanhood.
I felt myself grow wetter and experienced such pleasure when her finger entered my most private area. I shook and tried to control my visible signs, as her finger penetrated me in its entirety. She moved back and forth, slightly increasing the pace with each movement. I knew it would only be a matter of moments before I climaxed.
I could hold back no further and I felt my thigh muscles tighten and my tummy tense. I held as log as I could and was suddenly overwhelmed with pure ecstasy. I dared not make a sound as I shook with pleasure. I felt my love juice stream from within as they ran along her finger, still embedded deep inside my love nest.
A moment later she removed her finger and slowly dragged it along my leg. I sighed and allowed my body to fall limp. I watched, from the corner of my eye, as she lifted her hand and inserted her finger between her lips, never once taking her eyes from the stage.
I was spent and afraid my awkward movements had been discovered, but it appeared as if no one was any wiser, or at the least bit interested in my experience. A few minutes later the cast of the play were all on stage and the house lights went on.
Everyone cheered and clapped, myself included. They gave the performance a standing ovation, which was a good opportunity for me to adjust myself, without being detected. I picked up my purse and casually glanced in the direction of the woman next to me. She smiled slightly and reached her hand out. In it was a card, which I quickly accepted.
It was not until I was in the safety of my car, with my husband driving, that I dared glance at it. It simply said ‘Monica’ and a phone number. I stared at it for a moment knowing that I would call the first opportunity I had.
We drove to the party we were expected at and upon arrival; I immediately went to the bathroom. The previous events raced through my mind and I found myself masturbating fiercely, as I sat on the toilet. I came quickly and rested a moment. I re-applied my make-up and made sure my hair was in order. I returned to the party to celebrate the passing of the first decade of the new millennium.