‘ve always known my husband was special. He doesn’t just love me, he adores the version of me that’s completely free and depraved. That’s why every couple of weeks I put on my prettiest lingerie, a short dress, red lipstick, and go on a date with another man.
I texted my husband before I left: «I’m on my way. I’ll be late. Wait for me and don’t cum without me.» He replied with just one word: «Waiting.» I knew he was sitting at home, tense, his dick already hard imagining what would happen next.
The man I met was a tall, confident black man in his mid-thirties. I’d specifically chosen a tight-fitting black minidress for this evening. Underneath, I wore lacy black panties and no bra.
I immediately spotted my new acquaintance at the bar. His name was Artie. We’d been texting for a couple of days, and he clearly knew what he wanted. Just twenty minutes after we’d met, his hand was on my thigh under the table, his fingers slowly lifting the hem of my dress.
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