Unspoken Pleasure

“And the only day that this can happen is my birthday?” I accused, my tone venomous.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,” he apologized, looking incredibly guilty.

“Did it ever occur to you to send someone else?” Mom asked.

“Yes, why can’t James or Eric go?” I demanded. “They’re senior partners and more experienced than you.”

“I’m the one who’s been leading this case the entire time,” he explained. “It has to be me.”

“Fine, whatever,” I said, waving my hand at him, too angry to even shed a tear. A caring husband would know it wasn’t fine, and would do whatever it took to make a fuss over his wife… but he just mumbled another apology before suggesting he’d leave the two of us alone.

Once he’d trudged upstairs, Mom gave me a hug and said, “On your birthday I’m taking you out after work for a special evening.”

“You don’t have to,” I said with a heavy sigh.

“You’re right, I don’t, but this is non-negotiable,” she said in the way that meant a decision had been made and no amount of arguing was going to change it.

We each poured ourselves another glass of wine and continued venting about our men, although we didn’t talk at all about Jake or black cock… although that night after Emery was asleep I masturbated to both. He didn’t wake up, but I was so pissed at him I wouldn’t have cared if he had.

…..

Friday, as usual, I wore pantyhose underneath my casual Friday jeans, and three inch open-toed shoes.

As I hoped, Jake wandered into my room before first period and noticed my outfit.

“Connie, not only are you the only woman around who regularly wears nylons, but you may be the only woman in the entire state that wears nylons underneath her jeans,” he noticed, gazing admiringly at my feet.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

I shrugged, deciding to flirt back, still angry at Emery, and Mom’s words lingering in the back of my mind, “I like to dress professionally on the outside, but a little sexy underneath.”

“Are you trying to excite me?” Jake asked.

“Is it working?” I asked back.

“I plead the fifth,” he said, raising his hands in the air.

I glanced down at his crotch and bluntly said, “I think you’re presenting evidence that proves my case.”

“Guilty as charged,” he laughed, just as a couple of students entered the room.

I couldn’t help it, so I added, “You may have to pay for your crimes one day.”

He laughed and rebutted with wit, “As long as the punishment fits the crime, I’ll throw myself upon the mercy of the court.”

Like yesterday, my panties were damp… although unlike yesterday I’d escalated the inappropriate banter.

Yet, I didn’t see him the rest of the day and then it was the weekend… and I suffered through flirtation withdrawal.

Emery tried to make it up to me as he took me out for a pre-birthday supper at the most expensive restaurant in town and did all the right things, including the rare going down on me once we were back home and not expecting anything in return (which he didn’t get), but the entire time I kept wondering if Jake would eat pussy better, and would Jake give me the present I really wanted for my big 4-0?

Of course, half the time I pondered what it would be like to be pounded by Jake and his hopefully huge dick. While the other half, I felt guilty for contemplating cheating on my husband.

Yes, he was oblivious.

Yes, he was inconsiderate.

Yes, he was consumed with his work.

But deep down he was a good man and a good father… when he was home.

Although our sex life was mundane, pedestrian and rare, I sure didn’t want a divorce or to dive back into the dating pool.

So although I would continue to flirt and dress up for Jake as the new school week progressed, I considered it harmless banter and naughty fantasies that would remain just that.

On Monday I wore a brand new pair of pantyhose, a European brand that had a sexy seam down the back and the Cuban heel.

I preferred the sandal foot style that showcased my toes and hated the unattractive although practical reinforced toes (man, I wrecked a lot of pairs of nylons… my average being three days worn before I got a run somewhere), but these were unique and sexy.

To make sure Jake noticed them when he came into my room, which I was confident he would do, I slipped out of my four inch heels and walked around my room in my nylon-clad feet… desperate for the attention my husband wasn’t giving me.

I was hanging some new student art work on the bulletin board when I was startled to hear him speak, not even aware he’d entered the room, “Those are new?”

“What are?” I asked, playing innocent.

He laughed, “Playing hard to get, are we?”

I smiled back, on flirtation overdrive, “Well I do like things to be hard.”

He seemed slightly surprised by my rather clear innuendo, but after a beat, responded slyly, “Do you also like things big?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I shrugged, throwing my small dicked husband under the bus with such a direct and obvious answer.

“Well, that’s truly a shame,” he said, blatantly checking out my legs. “I do have to say I love the hosiery choice today.”

“They’re brand new,” I admitted. “I thought I should try something different.”

“You should try something new every week,” he said, his flirtation as direct as mine.

“Have any suggestions?” I asked back.

“I can think of one,” he smiled, keeping it obvious without ever directly saying it.

“I bet you can,” I smiled.

“You’re lucky you don’t teach high school,” he commented.

“Why?” I asked, wiggling my toes at him.

“Because none of the boys would be paying attention to the lesson,” he answered.

“I’m flattered,” I said, before adding, “but I can’t even get my husband to stick around for my fortieth birthday.”

“You’re turning forty?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“On Thursday,” I revealed.

“I can’t believe it,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“Everything. That you’re forty, you seriously don’t look older than thirty. And that your husband would leave you alone on your birthday,” he said.

“I’m going out with my mom,” I said, then thought ‘why did I tell him that?’

“You deserve better,” he said.

I completely agreed with him and was revelling in the abundance of flattery and attention he was giving me, yet didn’t want to sound pathetic as I explained, “Oh, my mom is my best friend.”

I then realized how that sounded completely pathetic.

“That’s cool,” he nodded, just as students started filing in.