Grind him until he cums

You crawl away from your husband, your ass swaying side-to-side until you reach the far wall of the changing room. You pull yourself up and turn, shimmying your hips, running your hands from your thighs up to your breasts. You lift your breasts in each hand and tease your nipples as you dance closer, your hips flicking in time to the music. Brad's smile is dreamy and his eyes are wandering all over your naked body.

"You've got moves, baby," says Brad as you stand between his legs.

You spin quickly, pushing his hands away and pushing your ass back into his lap. You feel his hardness pressing against you again. You rest your full weight on his lap, his cock so hard that even as a bulge it nudges between your tender folds. You lean back against him and pull his hands to your breasts. As he squeezes, you squirm, fucking yourself against his hardness.

The rough fabric of his slacks creates delicious friction against your clit. You sigh against him.

"I want to fuck you," he breathes into your ear.

"I know," you reply, grinding against him, rubbing yourself closer and closer to orgasm.

You lean your upper body forward, Brad's hands leaving your breasts only reluctantly as he realizes now he can watch your hips working your ass against his hard cock. With your hands against your knees and your firm butt working against his lap you watch over your shoulder as his face contorts in pleasure.

"I can feel how wet your are through my pants," he groans. "It feels amazing."

The music on the sound system begins to fade down. You push the speed of your grinding, not caring about the sounds of exertion that Eve must surely hear.

"Take it out," you whisper.

He doesn't hesitate. He unbuttons and unzips his slacks and extracts his swollen cock. You reach back, taking it from him and pressing the underside against your ass as you rock against him. The music is entirely quiet now.

You glance at the curtain and you can see Eve's feet beneath the bottom edge.

It's too late for Brad.

"Don't stop," he whispers. "You're going to make me cum."

His cock bent back beneath your grinding ass is too much. His juices and yours provide all the lubrication he needs. With a soft cry you feel the liquid heat of his orgasm splashing against your ass. The angle means most of his load falls immediately onto his lap and stomach, but not before first pumping against your thrusting buns. You lift from his sticky lap, kissing him, your hand encircling his throbbing hardness and milking out the last pearly drops against your fingers. You lift the sticky droplets to your lips and lick them off as he watches. There's far too much mess in his lap for your tongue to clean up. You resort to the napkins in your purse.

"Everything okay?" asks Eve as you and Brad crinkle the napkins and wipe up his seed.

Laughing and feeling very embarrassed, you put the boy-shorts and bra on along with a more modest pair of black leggings, boots and scoop-necked blouse. You pay for the lingerie and say goodbye to Eve. The cute salesgirl gives you a knowing wink.

"You owe me an orgasm," you whisper to Brad as you exit the store.

"Maybe the museum will inspire me," he says.

There's only one thing to do: