Leigh was suddenly jolted back to reality. Michael's words had stopped droning in her ears. By the skin of her teeth, she had barely managed to stay abreast with the conversation. She nodded her head between bites of the seafood dish that had just been served and threw in a few words here and there, but once again found her eyes straying in the direction of that mesmerizing couple as Michael sampled her plate. Leigh hadn't noticed the woman leave the table. She wondered if should she call her Marion? Then chastised herself for such a thought. But then again, it was her own bizarre, little fantasy. While pondering this line of thought, Leigh reached for her wineglass and took a sip just as her eyes spotted the woman under the table!

My god, she thought, this is unbelievable!

Sputtering, Leigh almost choked.

"Leigh, darling, are you okay?" Michael asked, concern engraved on his face.

"Uh huh, just went down the wrong way Michael," she replied, still coughing while dabbing at her lips and chin. Satisfied things had returned to normal, he offered her a taste of his pheasant, but Leigh declined, using the excuse that she couldn't eat something that had been alive earlier. Michael laughed at this, and countered with, "But you're eating seafood which came from the sea and was, or had been a living thing."

"It's not the same thing," she replied.

"And you love hamburger."

"Michael!"

"All right, all right. Let's not spoil the evening." He changed the subject and resumed telling her about the agenda of his forthcoming seminar.

Once again only half listening, Leigh was drawn like a magnet back to the couple's arrogant display. The woman's long, red nails were running up and down his leg nearest the aisle. Leigh sat back and gawked as the woman slowly slid down below the table. Talk about chutzpah, she thought, I've never seen anything close to this, even when I caught Wendy Zadanowitz blowing that football player back in high school.

One thought led to the next and it wasn't long before Leigh's mind's eye could perceive the woman's full, pouty, red lips wrapped tightly around the "mystery man's" cock, sucking him off to sweet ecstasy. The competitive part of her personality wondered if the woman was as good as she at giving head.

'Naww, no way,' she quickly admonished herself. 'I give great head,' Leigh thought, 'because I love playing with and sucking a man's dick, pure and simple. And I drive poor Michael crazy when I do.' She searched her memory and recalled the three other men in her life that she had honored with her mouth and tongue. Yup, she concluded, all of them had told her that she was the greatest. And Leigh smiled a secret smile. Still, part of her wished her mouth was on the "mystery man" right now.

Leigh discovered she was shocked at the thought. She had never cheated on Michael. In fact, she'd never entertained the thought before. There were times, she admitted to herself, she had looked at various men, even wondered how good they were in bed; and several times she'd masturbated using one of them to inspire her fantasy to its conclusion. But she'd never actually lusted after one of them. Leigh reinforced this recollection with the memory of Tom Hutchinson, a handsome enough guy, who'd groped her at a cocktail party and how she'd slapped his face in front of everyone. 'Naww, she didn't really want to . . . '

Shoving her self-denials aside, Leigh's eye roamed back to her Mr. Banning. He looked rather cool, calm and collected considering the circumstances. Leigh emptied her wineglass and made an innocuous reply to Michael, then glanced back at "him."

Just then "he" surprised her, for Leigh had thought Mr. Banning had everything under control, now she noticed his right hand. Its fingers tightly clutched the tall shot glass of tequila sitting before him. He was squeezing it so hard Leigh wondered if the glass would shatter beneath the whiteness of his knuckles. A moment later, his eyes rolled back under fluttering lids. His teeth bit on his bottom lip.

'God,' Leigh thought, 'the look on his face was incredible. What an orgasm he must be having.' Her mind was racing. 'Jesus, how did he taste? Was his musk heady? Was he clean, without any sexually transmitted disease? Did he have a curved cock or a straight one? Was he cut or uncut?' Leigh felt herself growing wet and hoped she wouldn't spot the chair she was sitting in, or worse, her dress. Thank God it was black. Michael, she thought, God, what was Michael up to?

A surge of relief surged through her as she grasped the fact that Michael was still caught up in his forthcoming seminar and still talking to her. She paid attention to him for a moment just to keep up the conversational flow, nodded at the appropriate part and said something totally innocuous, before returning her attention to the other couple.

Mr. Banning's dreamy eyes opened and met Leigh's. His lips parted. It seemed to Leigh that he could read her thoughts. He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it at her. Leigh formed a vivid image of its softness on her clit. She flushed and became even warmer. She averted her eyes, realizing that she was embarrassed, mesmerized and desperately wanted him. 'What's wrong with me?' She wondered, fighting not to panic by the emotions running riot through her body. For the first time in her marriage she found herself desiring another man.

She risked another look in his direction. As if by magic, the woman was sitting at his side. Leigh noted that while her hair was a bit messed, not a speck of lipstick was out of place, and bit her lip as she wondered what brand she used.

The other woman . . . Leigh caught herself --- 'I'm calling her the other woman. Now that's a joke.' She felt her composure returning and used it to make several mundane remarks to her husband.

When she was satisfied Michael was unaware of her voyeuristic activities, Leigh returned her attention to the couple. The woman sat there, feigning a coy, demure, smile. Looking sweet and rather innocent. Leigh noted that the woman's eyes never left his. When, with a dainty pinkie, she brushed across her lips wiping at the corner of her mouth, Leigh's mouth went dry, was she tasting the last remains of his seed?

With a tremor in her hand, Leigh reached for her wineglass and finding it empty, put it back down. 'Now I've done it,' she told herself. 'I'm thinking with my pussy.' Indeed her pussy was tingling with excitement and Leigh experienced difficulty stifling a gasp as she felt the wetness seeping into the crotch of her panties. She was grateful that she had decided to wear them, even so she realized she might well leave a telltale sign behind.

Recovering somewhat, Leigh found herself smiling as she watched her Mr. Banning lift his rump up and lean back in his seat. Both his hands disappeared under the table for a brief moment. Then he straightened up just as their smiling waitress appeared with two coffees and a dish of flan. Evidently the bitch must have forgotten to zip his fly. 'Did I just refer to her as a bitch?' Leigh asked herself.

Michael's voice penetrated her consciousness.

"You know," he said with a loving smile, " I've been monopolizing the conversation all evening my dear. You must have something to say, so I'll shut up for a while." That said, he poured the last of the wine into her glass and leaned back in his chair.

Leigh managed to focus her entire attention on him. "It's been fifteen years," she said, looking at him fondly.

He hoisted his glass to her. "Glorious years, darling."

She arched her eyebrow. "Oh, really? Here's a test. Do you recall the first time?"

He pursed his lips in thought, then grinned at her. "Sure do," he said smugly. "But who's testing who here?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"First would you like more wine? I can order another bottle."

"No. No thank you. I've had enough to . . ."

"To what?" He smiled knowingly.

Leigh paused, frantically forcing herself not to look toward the "mystery man."

"To, err, stimulate me later."

"Really?" Michael dabbed at his mouth with his napkin.

Leigh dug a fingernail into her thigh. She wanted to peek over there so badly.

"Okay," he said, "I'll give in. My parents had left us alone for the weekend. Remember the note?"

Leigh laughed. She did recall the note. "Yes, she left explicit instructions for you on how and when to water her flowers and shrubs."

"And?" Michael prodded, laughing once again at foolish he'd been back then.

"And then, with the house all to ourselves, you took advantage of me. And in the process forgot all about the watering business."

The waitress appeared at their table, took their desert order and left, promising to return promptly.

"You seduced me Leigh," he said seriously.

Giggling, she reached for her wineglass, realized it was empty and picked up the water glass, and drank.

"As I recall, you grabbed me as soon as we were in the door," Michael said as if he'd trumped her at cards.

"What a tramp I was," she giggled again and caught herself thinking that the other couple might be watching her now, and took satisfaction in the thought.

"I never considered you anything of the sort," he said seriously.

"Oh, darling, I know that. But I was a bit sluttish wasn't I?"

"Hmmmm, perhaps. You certainly acted as if you knew what you were doing."

"Me?"

"Well, I'd had very little experience in matters of seduction, back then."

"Oh, you've been practicing your seduction techniques of late?"

Michael became flustered. "No, no! Only with you, only you."

She burst out laughing at the chagrined expression on his face.

"I'm teasing you, you big lug! But, seriously, when's the last time we did it two nights in a row?"

The waitress reappeared and set about placing their deserts in front of them, poured two coffees and departed.

"Well, you know how busy I've been . . ."

"I know. Still . . ."

"Let me tell you one thing Leigh."

"Yes?"

"I've been wanting you all day."

"Since watching me pee?"

"Maybe. Perhaps it was even earlier in the day."

She decided to tease him further. "Do you know what I'm wearing under this dress?"

"I'd hesitate to guess, but . . . nothing?"

She smiled lewdly at him. "A sexy garter belt over skimpy lace panties."

"Ohhhh!" He formed an image of her standing in front of him, one foot raised up on a chair, clad only in a garter belt and squirmed in his chair.

"Getting hard, Lover?"

"Very much so." His voice had gone dry and he reached for his water glass.

"Perhaps we can fool around in the limo on the way home."

Michael turned serious. "I'd like to, but I don't think so. The driver . . . you know how rumors start."

"It wouldn't be a rumor," Leigh smirked.

"You know what I mean," he stammered nervously. He dropped his napkin on the table. "Excuse me, I've got to go. I'll be right back.

Leigh snorted trying to suppress her laughter as he rose from the table endeavoring to cover the protrusion in his trousers.

"It's not funny, dear," he managed, and he sat back down.

"Wait a moment or two for it to subside," she said and forced herself not to laugh at his awkward situation, 'after all,' she thought, 'my underwear is saturated. I'm afraid to get up myself.'

They sat there waiting quietly as the bus boy cleared their table then Michael coughed, got up and walked to the men's room.

Leigh took out her compact and checked her makeup and her mind wandered back to the couple in their hotel room.