Chapter 2: Date With My Ex

I woke from the nicest dream I could remember in a long time. Someone had been giving my pussy the most delicious tongue-lashing I had receieved in a long time. I kept my eyes closed as I could still feel the effects of it. Peter, my ex-husband, and I had our problems during our marriage, but his ability to go down on me was always wonderful. I sighed happily and ran my hands up my sides to touch my breasts. My palms brushed over my dark aureole. I touched my forefingers to my nipples, realizing they were already stiff.

Taking each nipple between a thumb and forefinger, I began to slowly roll them around and around. My breathing speeded up and I pinched them, lightly at first, and then harder and harder in time with the memory of the dream tongue caressing my open pussy. Moaning slightly, I slid one hand down over my stomach to finish myself off.

My fingers touched someone's head.

I was awake and the tongue was real. My eyes flew open and I frantically looked down at the brunette head between my legs. I shuddered with pleasure as I felt a long lap inside me, reaching from the bottom of my wet slit all the way up to where my clit throbbed with anticipation. The face appeared as a soft pair of lips closed over my hardened nub. A roughish brown eye winked at me.

"Good morning, sunshine," Betty Craig laughed with delight at what I'm sure was a mingled look of surprise and desire, which emotions were vying for control. Her face disappeared and I felt her lips return to the hard nub I had been trying to reach with my fingers.

"Good morning," I managed to gasp, almost inanely considering the circumstances. Her tongue circled my clit, tapping it, flicking against it. She pushed one, then two fingers inside me. Spreading them, she scraped along my inside walls. This was definitely superior to my own fingers I was happy to note.

I bucked once. My hand had returned to my breast and I pinched and pulled my nipples in the overwhelming excitement Betty's tongue and fingers were producing in me. I lifted my hips, arching and pushing against her. With that sign of my approaching orgasm, she drove her fingers deep into my pussy, reaching the spongy spot. At the same time her lips closed over my clit and squeezed.

"BETTY," I all but screamed as I twisted my nipples and came in one long shuddering spasm. I collapsed back onto the bed as a series of aftershocks ran through my body.

When I forced my eyes open again, Betty was kneeling between my still outstretched legs. Her eyes sparkled. "Now THAT'S the way to wake up a friend in the morning." She climbed up the bed and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth. "Tastes great doesn't it? Mine did after you ate me last night."

She hopped up from the bed and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in the hotel room. I realized that she was already dressed, except for the low heels she favored. As she pulled them on, she looked back over at me and smiled. "That was fun. I was going to quietly slip out to work, but you had rolled on your back and your legs were already parted." She giggled. "It just seemed like a good opportunity."

She walked over to the bed and kissed me, this time softly. "Call me sometime. Heck, call me Sunday. I want to know how this date with your ex-husband goes. He sounds like a great guy. If you don't want him send him my way."

I was about to protest that I wasn't having a date with Peter, just supper. But then I hadn't realized that Betty and I were out on a date at first either. So I did something neither my parents nor my ex would have believed. I smiled and kept my mouth shut.

Betty settled her shoulder bag and picked up her briefcase. "Be careful going home Sherry." She blew me a kiss and was gone.

I stretched again and looked at the clock by the bed. Holy cow I needed to get moving. I took a quick shower, dressed and got everything into the back of my car. Betty would be staying there another day and her company was paying for the room, so I pulled the door closed and left.

The drive home went quickly. My mind replayed the events of the last 24 hours and the delicious introduction I had received to sex with another woman. That was definitely going to happen again, with Betty or with some other female. AT the same time my mind kept straying to tomorrow night, and my dinner date with Peter. I wondered how he might react to a retelling of my sapphic night with Betty. I had no doubt that once he would have thrown things and screamed about it. Now? Well, I wasn't ready to tell him yet, but I thought he would be much more accepting and understanding. Perhaps even... I decided to finish that thought another day.

Once home and unpacked, I rushed to the office. I handled the slight pileup of work, including that which wasn't my responsibility but that I did anyway. By 6 PM everything was done. I got home, relaxed for a while and went to bed, thinking of the night before and wondering about the night to come.

I spent Saturday cleaning house and working in the garden. I took a nap in the early afternoon and then began to get ready. I had chosen a basic black dress that left my arms bare and fell to just above my knees. I had already picked out shoes and stockings and jewelry to match before my trip. I had just finished my makeup and was putting my earrings in when the door rang.

I opened the door and was surprised to find a bouquet of flowers thrust at me. A cheerful "Hey there good lookin'," was practically muffled by the size of the arrangement.

"Hey yourself," I replied as I buried my face into the fragrance of the blossoms. Lowering them I smiled. "Carnations, always my favorite. Come on in Peter." I went off to the kitchen, found an empty vase under the sink and arranged the flowers in it. I carried it to my dinning table and stepped back and admired it.

Turning around I also admired Peter. I swear, he was even more broad-shouldered than I remembered. Gray slacks, with a open collared white shirt and a sport jacket. I remembered how he used to always wear a tightly knotted tie pulled exactly into the center of his collar. I definitely liked the open shirt better. It went well with the warm smile on his face.

"Thank you, Peter. Wow, you look so good tonight."

"You're welcome, Sherry. And you look great yourself. Shall we go? I have reservations at The Captain's House for seven."

Apparently Peter was a familiar fixture at one of the city's best restaurants. The maitre'd called him by name and seated us immediately. The waiter took my drink order and returned with it and with a drink Peter had never even ordered.

"My, oh my," I teased him. "Looks like you're in in-thing around here."

"Local writer makes good," he all but orated. Then he grinned. Its fun and I'm enjoying it. In another month someone else will be the flavor of the week but until then I'm grabbing all the perks I can."

I liked the way he had answered. He was obviously happy about his success and enjoying it. At the same time, it hadn't gone to his head. He was friendly with the waiter and even stopped a passing waitress to ask about a recent illness in her family he had heard of. By the minute I was growing fonder and fonder of the new Peter.

I realized that actually the "New Peter", wasn't new. He was back to being the young, happy guy I had first met so many years ago. Warm, friendly, interested in everyone and everything. I knew that I had been responsible for the loss of a lot of that when we were married. Instead of supporting him I had been too busy wanting things, and to fulfill that he had gone into a profession that, as good as he was at it, he was completely unsuited for. Now he was happy, and I was very glad he was.

We ate, had some wine, and then the music started. Peter rose, came around the table and asked, "May I have this dance?" He slid my chair out as I stood up and we walked hand in hand to the floor.

Dancing with Peter had always been nice. Together we weren't winning any contests but we fit well and had a good time. The pace slowed and I slipped into his arms for a slow dance. His arms circled me and we slowly swayed along the floor. I nestled my head against his shoulder and happily closed my eyes, lost in the moment.

The music stopped and I lifted my face to his. He kissed me, just a touch of lips, but with the promise of so much more. I knew my eyes sparkled. In sheer joy I spun around, and collided with a waiter carrying a loaded serving tray.

Everything moved in slow motion. The waiter made a desperate attempt to hold the tray. I tried to steady him. Peter sprang forward to catch the edge of the tray. There was one frozen moment when it appeared everything was saved, and then the loaded gravy boat slid to the edge of the tray and poured its contents down Peter.

"Sumbitch," Peter gasped.

Oh my god, oh my god," I moaned. I hurriedly grabbed the napkins from the table and tried in vain to dab him clean. It was a hopeless effort, he was covered in the sauce. Overcome by the unbelievable breaking of the mood, I barely managed to stifle a wild desire to giggle, jamming my knuckles in my mouth. At the same time, I thought I saw a twinkle in Peter's eyes as he surveyed the wreckage of his attire.

Taking only a few moments to pay the bill and reassure the waiter and the host that in no way was any of this their fault, we hurried out of the restaurant and to the car. The waiter suddenly appeared with a clean table cloth and covered the driver's seat. Peter thanked him warmly. Then of all things, he walked around to the passenger side and held the door open for me until I was seated.

He started the car and we went off. I sat speechless in my seat. Feeling how uncomfortable I was, he smiled at me at the first red light, "Sherry, it was an accident. And if you keep trying to hold that laugh in you're going to bust."