Sharing a BJ (part 1)
The long weekend was finally here. We had been planning a meetup, but the distance between us didn't allow it on an ordinary weekend. Now it was the first weekend in August, and we were all very excited.
We had dinner at my favourite meetup restaurant, steaks all around! If that wasn't enough of a hint of things to come...the visiting wife, Désirée, was making eyes and licking her lips occasionally through dinner, from the entrée through the main course – medium rare with plenty of colour, just like she told the waitress, who also got a dose of her very direct eyes, until she blushed!
She returned with the dessert menu, clearly still a little flustered, yet visibly excited, at least to the trained eye. I made sure to memorize her nametag: Anna. Good to remember...But Désirée had kicked off her high heels when we sat down at the booth and had been playing footsie with me under the table for a minute or so. “No thanks, Anna,” I said with as lascivious a wink as I could muster – for all of my being an incorrigible flirt, even I was a little hot under the collar now. “I think we'll have dessert at home,” I added meaningfully, while making a mental note to return during the week.
We all got up and headed for my truck: a crew cab, the kind with four doors and plenty of room in the back seat.
To be continued...
