"I had been watching her for weeks", my husband tells me as I sit on his lap, running my fingers lightly up and down his neck. "I saw her everywhere - at the bank, at the gas station. I first noticed her", he says to me, "at the gas station. She was at the pump across from me, dark hair blowing across her face as she watched the numbers intently. She didn't noticed me then, watching her as she slid back into her car, the wind catching her skirt just enough that I could make out the whiteness of her thigh, the curve of her hip".

He stops talking for a moment, as my tongue runs lightly along his thigh, biting it gently as my hand finds its way between his legs. "Like this?" I say, my voice a husky whisper, and he can tell that I'm aroused.

"Mmmm," he nods, closing his eyes, seeing his new friend again in his mind.

"I didn't expect to see her again. To me she was nothing more than an image, hair across the face, a flash of white thigh. She was the stuff of a late night alone" my husband confided.

"I found myself at my company's bank to make a deposit, I was in a hurry and annoyed that the lines weren't moving faster. I stepped up to the counter and the teller lifted her head to smile at me and I was caught off-guard to find that same dark hair being pushed out of her face. She met my eyes and held them before lowering them slightly and asked how I was today. She was younger than me, I guessed her to be about 25 or so, and not pretty in the conventional sense of the word. Her face was unremarkable except for her dark green eyes and thick, dark lashes. But there was something sweet and na•ve about her that left me wondering what she'd look like when she climaxed."

"When she got up for a moment to retrieve something, I saw that she was wearing a skirt – a thin, gauzy skirt that skimmed the swell of her hip, showing the faint outline of a thong at the top. She turned and caught my gaze on her ass. She flushed but seemed to slow her walk back to the counter, her eyes looked into mine and back to her hands in turn. I smiled at her then, somewhat embarrassed to have been caught staring. She handed my deposit receipt to me, her fingers brushed my palm lightly as she pulled back her hand, a shy smile playing at her lips."

My fingers brush lightly over my husbands palm, along the inside of his forearm. He shivers slightly as they brush across his nipple, erect beneath my cool fingertips. "What happened then?" I breathe into his ear as I shift to straddle his leg and he can feel how wet I am pressed to his thigh.

"It was a week before I saw her again" he continues to tell his story. "I had been half-watching for her car around town, not quite sure what I would do if I saw her. I had run out to get something for lunch and found myself sitting behind a car like hers at a stoplight. I stared at the driver's side mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of the driver. The driver had leaned against the door, head on hand, and I saw the now-familiar dark hair falling softly around her hand. She glanced in her mirror and saw me watching, a small smile of recognition playing at her lips. She held my eyes in the mirror until the light turned green. She drove, I followed, thinking of nothing but her smile and that oh-so-white thigh, until she signaled a turn into the post office. I hesitated and signaled last minute, following behind her and parking 3 slots away."

"She got out of her car, never looking at me, but I knew she knew I was there. I waited a moment until she was through the door and then got out and followed her. She was standing in line, wearing another skirt, this one fitted to her soft hips, accentuating the curve of her ass, and a blouse just sheer enough that I could see the lace of her bra, the slope of her breast. I wondered about the color of her nipples, thought of running my tongue around them, sucking them. I was standing behind her now, just to the side, and I could smell the faint scent of her soap. I saw her turn just slightly, an acknowledgement of my presence that no one else would understand if they even saw it at all. I stood close enough to feel the heat rising from her skin. The man in front of her made a movement and she stepped back slightly, her ass brushing the front of my pants and then pressed there on my cock, for just a moment, and she moved forward."

"Mmmmm," I moan in my husband's ear and my hand drops to his lap. I cup his balls in my hand, my hand slides up and squeezes the base of his shaft. He's rock hard. "What did you do?" I ask him, sliding my hand up to the tip of his penis, feeling it slick and wet already.

"Nothing. She was gone."

"God, I want you to fuck her," I whisper, "I want her to do this..." I take my tongue, cat-like against his scrotum, and run it straight up his cock, my hand covering the tip as I lick and run my lips up and down the shaft. He moans softly as my tongue runs up the side and then suddenly I take him in mouth, my hot tongue everywhere at once as he curls his fingers in my hair and fucks me wildly.

He called me from the grocery store, asking me if I need anything else. "No, I don't", I tell him. The phone rings again a few minutes later and it is my husband again, voice low and thick with lust.

"She's here..." he says and I immediately know who he was talking about. It was an open-ended statement, awaiting a response; permission. I feel a flush run through me and butterflies flutter in my belly.

"Oh God..." I growl, my voice low. I pause, and then the words come, "Fuck her." I close my eyes, hearing his intake of breath.

"I want to hear you," I whisper.

There was a heartbeat of silence and then I hear a click, a rustling, and I know that he had put me on speaker phone and slipped me into his shirt pocket.

I drop into a chair and shut my eyes, phone pressed to my ear. Though my husband is no longer able to narrate, I can hear enough to vividly picture what was happening...

As he walks down the isle she raises her head and looks in his direction. For an instant she smiles at him, the smile of a friendly stranger acknowledging a fellow human being. Then he watches as recognition spreads across her face, the smile changing into... something else. She lowers her eyes for a moment, a half-smile turning up the corner of her mouth, and he is close enough now to see the wetness of her lips, the fine, downy hair trailing down the nape of her neck, disappearing down her back. He wants to follow that trail.

She is wearing a short, pleated skirt and he takes in her pale thighs, bare and covered with goose bumps. He stands beside her, shoulders inches apart. She looks at her box, the smile still hovering, and he holds his breath. Casually, imperceptibly, her shoulder grazes his bicep. He can feel his heart beating in his throat, his cock stir. His eyes slide down her long neck and he sees, with a jolt that runs straight through his groin, that she is not wearing a bra. Her nipples press, hard and pink, against her shirt. He can think of nothing other than that he wants this woman, wants to feel her, taste her, consume her.

As I listen, my eyes still closed, I slide my hand down my pants and arched slightly as my fingers slide over my pubic mound, around my clit, swollen at the thought of him. Of her.

Giving him the smallest glance she pushed her cart forward and the box slipped out of her hand to the floor. She bends over slowly to retrieve the box, skirt pulling up, and his eyes slid hungrily along her thighs, the crease where thigh meets buttock, the small dimples in her creamy skin, a small moan as he realized she is wearing nothing underneath, fine dark hair on the pink folds of her pussy.

No longer thinking, responding only to his need and her heat, he moves forward, running his hand up her bare inner thigh until his hand is pressing her labia, he feels her shudder almost imperceptibly, and then suddenly she stood up, her skirt falling over his hand, her backside pressing close to him, legs slightly apart. He hears a cart making its way up the aisle and moves slightly so that their backs are to the shelves, facing the opposite wall. He allows his thumb to slide back, pressing it to her ass, and closes his eyes for a moment as he feels the delicate muscles of her ass contract. His starts to slowly move his fingers, back and forth along the delicate lips, and his breath catches in his throat as his middle finger slides up and over her clit, wet and swollen. Her hand drops casually, forearm first grazing and then pressing hard against his cock.

The shopper is almost upon them and his finger is suddenly inside her, feeling the muscles of her vagina contract hard around his finger. He glances at her – she stares nonchalantly ahead at the soup in front of her, as if she is looking for something she could not find. But her lips are slightly parted, her cheeks flushed and he can see how she will look when he is inside her, fucking her. The shopper draws parallel, nodding at them and then moving on.

He feels her body tense and she rocks forward on her toes slightly, legs shaking. Her green eyes half closed, lips wet, and he watches as an orgasm spreads through her. His thumb over her cunt, dripping now, and then back towards her ass, sliding it in. She gasps and her whole body shakes as she pushes down hard on his hand.

She grabs his hand, pulls it out and up, and put his middle finger into her mouth, sucking on it. His heart skips a beat as her tongue slides up and down the length of his finger and when she looks at him he said the first words spoken between them, "God, I want to fuck you."

In their heat, they somehow manage to stumble through the aisle, carts abandoned; he follows as she leads him by the hand. And then they are outside in the cool summer night. She hesitates for just a moment before pulling him along the length of the building, around the shrubs planted there by the side.

The want burns in her face, so beautiful in her plainness. He can stand it no longer and he pushes her against the cool of the concrete block, pressing his body to the length of her as his lips find hers, tongues colliding. He slips his hand beneath her shirt, palms her breast in his hand, small and firm. He rolls her hard nipple lightly between his fingers, he pushes up her shirt and licks her other nipple, taking it gently between his teeth, sucking it. Her nipples are brownish pink in the dim light.

I hear their breaths tangle, a small moan – a woman's, the sound of lips. I struggle to catch my breath as I hear the woman groan and I know that he had dropped to his knees, lifting her skirt to reveal her legs spread wide. I hear my husband's tongue as he licks her clit. He closes his eyes and a sound escapes his throat as he tastes a woman other than me, his wife, for the first time in 15 years. I can almost feel her too... taste her.

She is pressed to the wall, hands tangled in his hair as he eats her, consumes her, his fingers again inside, teasing a spot she has never felt before, finger again in her ass as his mouth sucks her, licks her, spreads her lips and slides in, and she cums again, flooding his mouth and hand. He takes in every drop of her, salty and sweet, and he is transported with the smell of her sex. He stands up and finds her mouth again. She licks his lower lip, his chin, and he knows she is tasting herself.

Finally, I hear her voice come through the speakerphone. The words, "I want to suck you." My husband groans loudly and I know that she had slipped down, unbuckled his belt, his pants, and that his cock, finally free, was feeling the touch of her lips, the kiss of her tongue.

His hands press to the wall, push-up style, as she sucks him, so different that what he is accustomed to. His hips start thrusting involuntarily against her mouth and he struggles to stay in control. He stands up straight and pulls her up with him. He looks into her eyes for a moment. seeing her consent, turns her around, bends her slightly at the waist to expose her ass and the wetness of her pussy. He pushes on a condom and then cups her bottom in his hand again, teasing her lips and clit. She is silent and the anticipation hangs between them, as palpable as the lust coursing through his veins. Without warning he bends his knees, hands at her waist, and pulls her onto his cock. He slides in deep. He can tell by the way she breathes "ohhhhh" that she had never had a man his size before.

My own back arches as I imagined his face as he enters her, how it must feel to be inside another woman, and a thrill of pleasure rolls through me. I hear the slapping of skin on skin, slow at first and then faster, his breathing becoming shallower.

He slips a finger in her ass and she presses back, hard. After a moment he starts to slide in another and he feels her tighten and then relax as it slipped in. She wriggles her hips on his cock as his fingers stretch the tight muscles of her ass, hitting spots that she didn't know existed.

There is a moment's silence and then I hear the woman gasp and my husband's voice, rough and deep. "Relax," he whispers and I knew that he had taken his cock out and was pressing gently in her ass, just the tip, pushing slightly in and out, each time a little deeper. He feels her relax and then she pushes herself onto him. He was in her ass, tight and hot, and he knows that he is the first. His hand shakes between her legs, rubbing her clit. Her breath comes harder as she begins to push back hard on his cock and he slams into her, fucking her.

I hear a sob of pleasure tear from her throat and then, "Oh God!" and I knew that she was coming, knew that he will soon. An orgasm hits me, slamming me to the chair like a wave. I hear him, faster, the rawness of sex on his face, and then we are moaning, all of us – she, he and me, together, melting into one breath, caught in the rolling tide of the climax as we all cum.

Ragged breaths, the sound of a final, deep kiss, a whispered thank you, and then he is alone. With shaking hands he pulls his phone from his pocket, hits a button and presses it to his ear, eyes closing. "Leah... ?"

My voice, husky and raw, comes softly back to him and he knows without words that this was for me, too. "Come home," I whisper and click the end button.