She wants to celebrate her new job

For the last two or three months, Jean had been talking about picking up a part time job. We didn't need the money, those problems had ended three and a half years ago when I sold my software company. I still went into the office three days a week, I enjoyed the technology and wanted to keep my hand in, but money was the least of our worries.

She took the job because she was bored. We met in college - just before Jerry and I developed the application that took us public - and she was intense. Probably the smartest woman I'd ever met. She finished her degree in Political Science at the top of her class and was busy fending off job offers when I proposed. She ended up working for an international organization for two years before the office politics got to her and she decide to quit.

Since then, she'd been a housewife. Not the "scrub the floors and arrange the furniture" type, but the "volunteer work and on the Board of Education" type. I was proud of the decisions she'd made and the causes she'd funneled a steady 10% of our income into.

On top of all of that, she wasn't a "do your wifely duty" housewife. Just the opposite, in fact. She initiated sex more often than me, and she'd been the one to come home with a surprise movie or toy. She came easily and both of us enjoyed the time we spent together in bed. Or on the rug. Or in the hot tub.

I'd had a tiring day - we were up against some network issues we couldn't pin down - and I barely looked up as I opened the front door. But then, I saw her legs. Four inch white heels with a wide leather strap around each ankle and shiny white stockings. I let my eyes roam up from her ankles to her knees, her thighs. She was wearing a white satin garter belt and nothing else. Her firm 38Cs looked excited, her nipples were dusted with a nice reddish tone and erect. She was leaning against the telephone table, legs crossed, arms behind her.

"David?" She smiled. "I got it."

I had to think for a minute, my head was still stuck inside a Cisco router with a renegade program. "Got what?"

Jean looked disappointed for half a second but I jumped in, "wait, the job? You got the job?"

She jumped up and into my arms. We spun around, both as excited as little kids. I knew how much it meant to her and she felt it. We kissed for a long time, then she pulled back. "I want to go to Le Bernardin and just go wild!"

I smiled. It was her favorite French restaurant and deciding was always difficult. There were so many things she enjoyed there. Paring her selections down to one or two was impossible. But, none of that tonight. She'd order anything that even sounded good.

"David?" she asked. I looked at her and couldn't resist, kissed her again. The most electrically soft lips in the universe. She started to say something, but stopped and kissed me deeper, her hand running through the short hairs at the back of my neck. I ran my left hand down her back, feeling the smooth skin, almost able to feel the tiny blonde hairs. She shivered and I lifted my hand, just tracing lightly now with the tip of my index finger. Jean was kissing me harder, her other hand now pulling the crown of my head closer. I ran my finger slowly - so slowly it was almost still - upward from the small of her back, up her spine, riding the light ridges of the bones, just skimming the surface. She was breathing hard through her nose now, her mouth hot on mine, hungry, devouring my lips and tongue. Jean pressed the inside of her left thigh against my leg, raised her foot an inch off the ground and moaned.

My finger reached the base of her neck, continued upward and touched the hairline. I cupped my hand around the back of her neck, let my right hand slide casually down her left side, across the left hipbone, then down between her legs. I didn't think it was possible, but her kiss became even more hungry, more insistent. She held my head hard, ground her lips against mine. My index finger gently slid over her mound, separated her lips and went directly to that most familiar place, that little nub that would drive her over the edge. Her entire body went stiff, her leg slid down mine and she planted her feet firmly on the floor, let them slide apart slightly. I felt her wetness and heat and rubbed gently left and right twice, three times, four times, felt her body shake and her hips start to grind against my hand. I'd learned long ago not to speed up. Slow and steady. Five times, six times, she pulled her mouth back and gasped air, seven, eight, she threw her head back and started making high pitched and quivering "aaahh..." sounds as her orgasm exploded.

Jean shook for a long time before she calmed down. She looked me in the eyes and smiled. "You are going to enjoy the rest of the night very much." She turned slightly and slid out from under me. "Come on, let's go upstairs and dress me in something sexy."

We ran up the stairs, hand in hand, laughing.

I pressed the button and the door of her walk-in closet opened. I went straight to a full-length white dress that always turned me on. But I caught something out of the corner of my eye that said she was less than enthusiastic. I slid the hangers around a bit and came to another one I remembered was a favorite of hers. A white, pleaated yoke collar dress. Very formal and sexy at the same time, cut about six inches above the knee. Her eyes lit up and I knew I had a winner.

I handed her the dress.