WBDP - Brianna Delivers Pt. 10

"Why haven't I seen them before?"

"I wore them when I was single and not a police officer. Some of them are quite immodest. I felt it improper to wear them as an LEO and a married woman."

"But you're pulling them out now because..?"

"Because I'm no longer a policewoman here and I know you don't care if I show a little skin. In fact, you like to show me off."

"My God, yes. Especially when you look like this. Are you wearing any underwear beneath that slit?"

"It's for me to know and you to find out, but not yet," she said, slapping away my hand as I'd started reaching for her. "Later."

"When?"

"When I say you can. You're not my Master, yet."

"You will pay for this, you know."

"Promises, promises."

"You do like dangerous games, don't you?"

Marcia smiled at me; an enigmatic, Mona Lisa smile, making my heart beat faster and my cock get harder.

I gave her my arm. "Let's go eat then."

We went to 'Two Meatballs in the Kitchen,' perhaps our favorite local Italian place. We intended to take advantage of it to the fullest. We shared a bruschetta for an appetizer. For the main course, I had the shrimp scampi di Roma, sautéed shrimp, garlic, tomato, arugula, and fresh herbs in a white wine butter sauce over angel hair pasta. Marcia had the Gina's Favorite Chicken, grilled chicken breast topped with goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and a basil lemon butter sauce, served with veggies and their signature potatoes. We had a chianti with that. We lingered over dinner and only ate half, saving the rest for later so we wouldn't be too full for dessert. When the dessert menu arrived, Marcia chose the cannoli and I picked the tiramisu.

While we were waiting for the dessert, Marcia said, "You can check to see if I have underwear now, Sam."

"You don't say? I'll consider it."

"What do you mean, you'll consider it. You were dying to find out before we went to dinner."

"That was then; this is now."

"So what's changed between then and now besides one hundred minutes?" Marcia asked.

"Now, I want to let you stew in your own juices. Before I didn't."

"How do you know I'm going to stew in my own juices?"

"Because you asked me to check," I replied. "But, I'll make a deal with you, if you're game."

"What's the deal?" Marcia asked suspiciously.

"You put your fingers on your pussy right now. If they come out dry, I'll know you're wearing underwear or you're not stewing in your own juices and I will forgo any and all orgasms tonight. If they come out wet, we'll know the opposite is true. Either you're not wearing underwear or your juices are freely flowing to the point your panties are wet or both. If I'm right, I'm going to finger fuck you during dessert until you cum. Go on; put your fingers down there."

Marcia smiled. She surreptitiously slipped her left hand into her lap and through the slit and brought them up to show me. They were glistening. I sucked the fluids from her fingers.

"This will go very well with tiramisu," I said, smiling. "What made you take the deal?"

"Because I win either way."

"Well, I suppose it wasn't a win both ways for me, but I was fairly confident I'd win. Good food, good wine, romantic atmosphere, sexy company."

"Sexy company - pretty sure of yourself aren't you?"

"Where you're concerned, yes. Spread your legs. You may put your napkin over your lap."

She did as I requested. My hand went through the slit and pushed up her dress so I could easily access her pussy. Her cunt was bare, and very wet. Two fingers speared up into her and her breath caught in her throat, though she made no other sign. She laid her napkin over her lap, tented slightly so it would hide my hand. The waiter came with our desserts. My hand continued to delve into her sheath as he set them down on the table.

"Can I offer you any coffee with your desserts?" He asked.

"No thank you, but you can bring us the check in fifteen minutes," I replied. "We're good for now."

I picked up my fork in my left hand and took a bite. I'm sure he wondered where my right hand was, but other than my hand disappearing under the table, he couldn't tell for sure. Marcia sat there smiling and didn't give away by sound or motion I was finger fucking her under the table. She calmly picked up her fork and took a bite. He left us and her eyes closed and she moaned, softly enough nearby diners wouldn't notice.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered. "I started climaxing while he was standing there. It was all I could do not to hump your hand, you bastard."

"I could tell. Your cunt was gripping my fingers like a vise and my hand is soaking."

I pulled my hand up and began licking her fluids from my fingers, then wiping the rest of my hand with my napkin. I couldn't very well be seen licking my palms and the back of my hands. Even licking my fingers was tacky, but not unheard of. I took another bite of tiramisu. She really did taste good with my dessert. We lingered, talking and laughing until the waiter brought the bill. I handed him my debit card. I was fairly certain the scent of Marcia's arousal permeated the air around our table.

"I'll be right back, sir."

"Thank you."

I turned to Marcia and softly said. "I'm going to fuck you so hard when we get home."

"It's a good thing we live close, or we wouldn't get home," she whispered back.

The waiter returned with our receipts and we grabbed out leftovers and headed out the door. I didn't speed too much; we were too close, but as soon as we got home, I tossed the leftovers in the fridge and joined Marcia in the bedroom. She was already naked, not having worn nought but a bra under her dress. It took maybe ten seconds to join her on the bed, my sword Excalibur hard. Marcia welcomed me into her arms and our lips melted into each other.

She rolled on top of me. "Fuck me, lover," she said, putting my cock at the entrance of her soupy pussy. I arched upward and speared into her. She moaned when I penetrated her. "Hmmm," she murmured, "so good; so fucking good."

"You're so wet," I said. "I could drown in you right now."

"Then be thankful it's your cock in there now and not your tongue," she moaned.

She was rolling her hips, rocking on my dick. Her cunt muscles were clamping on my cock, clinging like a strangling vine. It felt incredible. This woman, whom I loved with all my heart, who had the deepest, most powerful grip on my soul; every part of her owned every part of me. I buried myself in her, inhabiting the furthest reaches of her, lost in her. She might be my submissive, but she possessed me. I plowed into her over and over again, hard and demanding, asking for everything from her. She orgasmed, then orgasmed again, surrendering to my need, my need of her. I kept going, unable to stop; so aroused from our evening together, our love for each other.

"Don't stop," Marcia panted. "I'm going to cum again."

"I...have...to...stop...sometime," I gasped. "I can't...keep it up...all night."

"Not all night...three minutes...all I need."

Okay, she needed three and a half, and I gave her that, but not a second longer. The moment she gasped and clutched me to her, my balls erupted and a river of sperm spewed into her. Spurt after spurt, I pumped my essence into her, shivering and shaking, totally whipped. Marcia collapsed on my chest, rubbing against me, mewling her pleasure, embracing me, showering me with breathless kisses. Her trembling finally stopped and she rolled off me onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling fan, panting.

"Holy shit," she murmured, "where did that come from."

"I don't know, but I loved every second of it. You were on fire you were so hot. I thought you were wet before. As much fluid as I pumped into you, I could probably wring you out and fill the bathtub."

Marcia laughed. "You egotistical liar. Your balls don't hold enough to fill the bathtub."

"But, they do hold enough to fill you, and it's not all my fluid," I said.

She stuck her hand down into the sodden mess that was her pussy.

"You may be right. I do feel quite full."

"I'll get a towel or two, or you have to sleep on the wet spot."

"Why do I have to sleep on the wet spot?" She demanded as I got up to get some towels.

"Hey, you had it last. If you didn't want to sleep in a puddle, you should have kept it inside you where I left it."

She snickered. "You just have to leave it farther in me so it doesn't run out."

"If I left it any farther in you, it'd be coming out your nose."

Marcia laughed again. "I doubt it, Mr. Longfellow. Give me the damn towel."

I handed her one and she held it up against her crotch. I looked at the puddle beneath her. "You could be a little better housekeeper, you know. You're so messy."

She grabbed my head and pulled me down to her cunt. "If you're concerned about housekeeping, lick up the mess you made."

My tongue made a wide swipe up her slit.

"Oh, oh, oh, fuck," she moaned as I slithered over her clit. "Don't stop now, cowboy. I'm not the only one who can eat a little custard."

I settled in the vee formed by her legs and tended to her garden of earthly delights. "Oh, you naughty boy, does your mother know where your mouth has been?"

I chuckled, tickling her labia. "No, but my wife sure does."

She pulled me against her folds and directed my mouth where she willed until she climaxed again.

"Stop that," I said. "I just cleaned it up and now you go and mess it up again."

"I can't help it you're so good," Marcia said. "It's the only reason I keep you around."

She pulled me up and kissed me. "You need to wipe your face. Talk about messy."

"Still you," I said. "That's not male cum around my face. Well, maybe just a little, but most of it's you."

Marcia wiped my face with the towel, then scrubbed at the sheets, doing her best to clean it up.

"We should do laundry tomorrow. We've made a mess."

"I have better things for my slave to be doing than laundry."

"I'm tingling."

"You should. I have plans."

"Will you tell me now?"

"Nope. Go to sleep now. You're going to be busy tomorrow."

"Yes, Master."

"Not yet, but soon."

She kissed me again and she slept in the wet spot.

******