Anxiously waiting for lunchtime.

I was no less anxious at work on Thursday but for a different reason: I just wanted to go to lunch then go home so I fuck Deborah again. I think I was getting greedy with pussy -- I still enjoyed making love to my wife but she was six months pregnant and she couldn't do certain positions any more -- with a slate of beautiful women in the coming weeks for me to try to impregnate.

I did my best to concentrate on my code, repeatedly telling myself the sooner I got done the sooner I could go home. My focus was disrupted around 11:50 by the vibrating notification that I got a text message on my smartphone.

Deborah: r u rdy 4 lunch? ;)

Me: Yes!

Deborah: k meet u front of store cu! :)

Luckily my coworkers had given up on asking me to join them for lunch and had just accepted my excuse of going out with my wife. I let my machine compile the code while I left for my lunch break and hurriedly walked towards the parking garage, only to make a mad dash when the elevator opened to underground level.

The traffic was lighter than normal so I managed to get to the store a bit earlier. I text messaged Deborah and she quickly appeared, wearing a sleeveless floral yellow and pink flare dress, with a shopping bag.

"Hey, Deborah, how are you?" I asked as I opened the passenger side door for her.

"Great, especially last night!" she smiled while she climbed into the Jeep. "And how are you?"

"Better now we're on lunch!" I replied as I pulled away from the curb.

"Speaking of lunch," she paused to lift up the shopping bag, "I brought sandwiches!"

"That's great!"

"I felt bad that you didn't get to eat something due to the short notice."

"That's okay, I got some snacks at a vending machine," I chuckled. "Besides, your dinner made up for it."

"Thank you!"

"By the way, are you okay with pasta? Sam's making it tonight," I asked.

"Pasta is fine for the both of us."

We chatted about certain foods we don't like and ones we are addicted to -- not surprisingly like most women Deborah loves chocolate -- until we pulled into the motel parking lot.

We felt like cheating lovers, looking around us when we stepped out of the car and jogged to the door of our reserved room.

After last night Deborah was no longer anxious about the idea of her, a married lesbian woman, having sex with her married friend's husband. As soon as I locked the door behind us she quickly removed her skirt, revealing she had worn nothing beneath.

My erection got harder at the sight of the voluptuous brunette standing in front of me wearing only yellow high heels.

"We should do something about that!" she purred, staring at the huge bulge in my pants.