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Subject: {ASSM} tonytony3's Myrtle Beach Vacation (mf, mmf)
Date: Mon, 24 Jan 2000 17:10:02 -0500
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tonytony3's Myrtle Beach Vacation (mf, mmf)
This story was first posted a couple of years ago.
The kids were away at school. Dotty had just finished an
assertiveness training seminar sponsored by her
company. That, her boss assured her, would lead to a
group manager's job. Almost as good was the news that
my publisher accepted the proposal for my latest novel.
Life was good.
We decided to spend some of my advance and celebrate
with a long weekend at the Hilton Resort at Myrtle
Beach: we'd play golf, see some shows, and have some
quality time together. It was a suitable reward for
getting things right.
Even though it was raining, it only took a half hour to
drive to the hotel from the airport. We drove by one kind
of entertainment opportunity after another. The
Carolina Opery, The Palace, Broadway at the Beach,
The Crazy Horse Saloon: it went on and on. Rain or
not, we wouldn't be bored.
We checked into our suite early. We were sitting in the
lounge by noon, talking, and planning the rest of the
three days we were taking. The rain was enough to make
us abandon our afternoon tee time, although we did see
that Arcadian Shores, the golf course associated with the
hotel, was getting a lot of play. Golfers are nuts, we
decided. Ordinary people, and even farm animals, know
enough to come out of the rain. . But this lounge, with
its view of both the course and the ocean, was nice, and
intimate. It was a different environment for us. We'd
passed some milestones recently, and we were reluctant
to break the mood. We talked about our kids, our
marriage, and us.
Then, the conversation took an odd turn.
"Bob, I`ve always been confident of you and our
marriage," Dotty said.
"Me too, Dotty."
"I've wondered, though, have you ever screwed
around?"
Where'd that come from? There was no warning. If we
were on the golf course, she should have shouted
"Fore". In other circumstances there'd have been other
warnings. I didn't hear "Track!", or "Fire in the
hole!". No "Incoming", no "Clear!", or "Jibe Ho!",
either. There was no warning at ALL!
My mouth, I realized, was open. I closed it. "Uh, where
did that come from? Why do you ask - have you?" That
was a reflexive, and defensive, response. I hate not being
upfront, and before the statement was out of my mouth I
promised myself I wouldn't do that again.
"It comes from assertiveness training, Bob. And as for
me screwing around, no, not really, but you haven't
answered. What about you?"
"Same answer as yours, honey. Not really, but almost."
"So, we each have had `almosts.'"
"I guess so", I allowed.
"Confession is good for the soul. We have nothing to do
the rest of today. Let's stay here for a while," she said.
"I'd like to know what happened to you. Tell me about
it."
Well, it was too wet for outdoor stuff, and maybe I'd
learn something new about my wife, too.
"OK, with a couple of conditions," I said. "We gotta
agree we've got a solid marriage, and there's no back-
lash, OK?"
"Sure," she said, with a gleam in her eye. She extended
her hand. "It's a deal! Now talk, buster. Tell me how
you `almost' screwed around."
Our hands joined - but I resisted the handshake. "And
you have to tell me about your `almost', too."
She initiated the handshake. We had a deal.
"You first, though" she demanded/requested.
"All right. It happened a couple of years ago."
"Mine, too."
"Oh." I'll remember that.
I started.
"It was two years ago, in the hotel lounge there at LAX.
Remember when I was there selling that screen play?"
"Yeah - I also remember a horny husband who came
home from that trip!"
"That's the trip. You already know I did most of the
negotiations with Betty?"
"Yes - but you sold it to the company she and her
brother represented. - it was her????"
"Not quite. Anyhow, we were in the lounge after we
signed off on the thing. Remember that nice check I
brought home? Well, her husband was supposed to meet
us there, we'd celebrate, I'd kill a couple of hours and
come home on the red eye."
"I remember the check."
"What happened was we were sitting side by side having
a drink when her husband came and sat beside her. He
seemed OK and congratulated us on getting a hard deal
done. We shook hands, he ordered a round of drinks,
and he sat beside his wife.
"She had been sitting close to me before he got there - I
could feel her leg along mine, but hell, we were waiting
for her husband - I didn't think anything of it, and
enjoyed the contact. I was away from you for most of a
week, damn it."
"You don't have to make excuses, honey - all is
forgiven. But damn it, tell me what happened!"
I wasn't at all sure what had gotten into my usually
diffident wife. She moved from the chair facing me to
the bench seat beside me, and I could feel pressure from
her leg, too. "What's happening here?" I asked.
"Partly, it's that damned management training program
- we've been talking about assertiveness, not being
afraid to do what you want.. One part of the training's
homework is to do something very assertive, almost
outrageous, just to see what it feels like. I don't want to
talk about that any more. I want to talk about this! Was
she sitting like this?"
Talk about assertive!
"Yeah."
Dotty had a funny expression on her face. "Show me
what happened."
The waiter responded to her wave and brought a couple
more drinks.
"We're drinking too much!"
"No excuses - keep talking!"
"Sit closer."
She moved closer.
"Put your hand in your lap under the table."
She did.
"I could tell there was something going on between
Betty and her husband. His hand was under the table,
and she was fidgeting around. Anyhow, after a couple of
drinks, I felt her hand on my leg - yes, just like that.
After a while she moved it and just stroked at my thigh.
Yeah, like that."
"Did you get a hard-on?"
"Just like the one you're causing."
"What happened next?"
"I put my hand under the table, too, and covered hers,
and stopped her from moving it higher. I thought she
was going to touch my crotch!" I demonstrated, holding
her hand, too, because it was also meandering
crotchward..
"I'm glad you stopped her. But her husband was sitting
right there!"
"I know. She took my wrist, and put my hand on HER
knee. Her skirt was pulled up enough so my hand was
right on panty hose. Like this," I took her hand, moved
both hers and mine to her knee, and finger walked her
skirt higher so I was really touching her nylon clad leg.
Dotty looked at me, eyes wide, mouth a little open, her
tongue moistening her lips. She was really into this.
I continued. "I looked at Betty - they were both looking
at me, and smiling. Her husband leaned over and kissed
her. I tried to pull my hand away but she was holding it
really tight on her leg . I could feel her kind of
twitching, and I realized he was probably touching her
other leg. Then, he reached a little more, and grabbed at
my hand, and hers. I could feel his fingers, and they felt
wet!
"He looked at me and said 'We'd like to book a room
here and celebrate, like this,' and he took my my wrist,
and both of them moved my hand up her leg, like this."
I demonstrated, sliding my hand along her inner thigh,
higher, and higher. Dotty's eyes dilated, there was a
sharp intake of breath, as my hand actually touched her
crotch. I didn't understand her reaction, I'd touched her
there a million times before. But, damn it, it was
exciting me, too.
"What happened?" she whispered.
" I didn't know what to do. I found out she wasn't
wearing panty hose, but just stockings and a garter belt,
and she wasn't wearing anything else under there either,
and she set her knees wide apart."
"What happened?"
"Honey, when I touched skin and her pubic hair I
realized her husband was touching her there - right
here"- I demonstrated by pressing into her crotch with
my hand - "I pulled my hand away. I told them I
appreciated the offer, but I was married and didn't want
to screw that up."
"What happened?"
"I left, and waited at the gate for my flight, and took the
red eye home, and screwed you for hours. I never saw
them again".
"That explains why you were so horny. Honey, any
regrets?"
"Sometimes I do wonder what it would have been like if
I took them up on their offer: she was very pretty, and I
never was in a threesome. . ."
"MMmm."
"Well, Dotty, that's as close as I ever got. It's your
turn."
"I don't want to talk about that here. Let's go to our
room."
It took just a few seconds to close out our tab, and have
the barman get room service to take a bottle of Asti to
our room. It was beginning to look like we'd be staying
on the hotel grounds all day! We went up with the room
service guy, signed off on the wine, and went into the
suite. We had a two room suite: the living room was off
the main door. That was separated from the bedroom by
a bathroom and small kitchenette. The bedroom , with
two queen sized beds, opened onto a balcony that
overlooked the ocean.
Dotty sat on the sofa in the living room and motioned
me to sit beside her.
"Well?" I still wanted to know what happened to her.
"Remember the company Christmas party two years ago
- the last one I went to, it was the one you didn't go to?"
"Yeah. . ."
"Remember Ralph, that 30 year old fast track guy in
accounting?"
"Yeah.. ."
"He was really on a roll that party. Like, he carried
around some mistletoe, put it over people's heads, and
kissed them."
"Do you specifically mean, your head?"
"Yeah, a bunch of times. Actually, it was nice being
chased by that handsome young stud. I liked the
attention."
"Keep going."
"Towards the end of the party he told me he had a bottle
of great brandy in his office he wanted to bring to the
party, and asked me to go help him get it."
"Help him? You went?"
"Sure. It was an office party, I didn't think anything of
it. Yeah, I went.
"Anyhow, we went to his office. It was right near mine,
and close to the executive waiting room. Everything was
closed up, there was no one around. He held my hand
and he went into his office. He got the brandy and a
couple of glasses, and we started to go through the
waiting room. He was still holding my hand, and he
pulled me to a stop. He sat on the sofa there and pulled
me down, too."
"Oh?"
"Yes, he knew what he wanted more than I did. He said
we should test the brandy. He poured some, and we
drank it. After that he stood up - I started to, too, so we
could go back to the party. But he told me to wait a
minute. There was a floor lamp that reached over the
sofa. That was the night light for the area. It was the
only light on. He took some mistletoe out of his pocket,
put it on the lamp and smirked. He asked me if I knew
what that meant. I told him I thought it meant the
mistletoe would catch on fire, so he turned off the
light!"
"I don't like this story!"
"Well, I liked what was happening. It was fun. But, you
really won't like this part. It was really dark there. He
sat beside me, and started kissing me again."
"That's OK, I guess. You're a beautiful woman, under
mistletoe, you should be kissed."
"Well, honey, I kissed him back."
"Oh. Well, it was Christmas. You should have. Uh,
maybe you should show me how you kissed him."
Betty put my arms around her - had me lean towards her
- kissed me, open mouth, for a long time. The touch of
her tongue on mine was electric, even though it was, for
us, common place.
"Then he pushed me down. . ."
She leaned to the side, and pretty soon we were side by
side, she was trapped between me and the sofa back.
"He pushed me back, like that - and I could feel that he
had a hard on."
"Then what happened?"
"He moved his hand like this" she demonstrated, and
my hand was between us, caressing her breast.
"Did you stop him?"
"Not then."
"Oh." I didn't realize until then I was getting erect. I
was, and my erection got bigger.
"What happened next?"
"After a while he moved that hand to my leg" - she
guided my hand down over her belly to her hip to her
dress covered leg - "like that."
"Then???"
"He tried to get under my dress, but I stopped him, like
this:" Her hand that had been guiding mine grabbed my
wrist, and brought it back between us, to her breast..
"You were being good!"
"Well, I did kind of like having him touch my breast -
you know, they're very sensitive."
This was my wife talking to me!
"What happened then?"
"After a while, he took my hand in his, and made me
do this. . ."
She took my hand, and lead both of our hands to my
crotch.
"And I kind of let him move my hand so I was stroking
him like this for a little while."
My now aching cock felt her fingers moving lightly over
my pants, touching, measuring the level of my
excitement.
"He tried to get under my dress again ", she
demonstrated, "and I stopped him again" her hand left
my crotch, took my wrist.
"He stopped that, so I just hugged and kissed him for a
while" she showed me how, kissing lips, moving my
head so she could kiss at my ear, my neck, and in turn,
turning so that those sensitive parts of her head could be
kissed, too.
"He put his hands between us" -- she moved mine down
between us --"but he wasn't grabbing at me, I didn't
know what he was doing."
"But then, while he was kissing me, he took my hand
again, and moved it like this." It went slowly over my
hip, back to my crotch. "He had opened his pants, his
cock was sticking out, and he put my hand to it!!!" Betty
had slipped her hand into my pants, and was touching
mine at the same time she told the story.
"What did you do???"
"I was, I don't know, kind of shocked! But, it felt so
nice, and so wicked, that for a couple of minutes I just
held it and stroked him" - she had my zipper down and
my cock out "while we kissed, and he was touching my
breast through my dress".
"What happened!!!"
"He got his hand into the neckline of that party dress I
wore - you know the one with the scoop neckline, and
started touching me directly. I let him touch me for a
while, but when he tried to get under my dress again I
stopped him."
"Dotty, you touching his naked cock, and he was playing
with your tits!"
"I know. But then I got up, and ran out, and came home.
That's why I didn't go to any more company parties."
"That's some story, honey," I said, relaxing, but still as
horny as I could be. Not bad, I thought, being that horny
with a woman I've been married to for 18 years.
"Yeah. I often wonder, though. . ."
"Wonder what?"
"Well, what would have happened if I didn't stop him.
He really got me excited!"
"I don't have any doubt about what would have
happened, at all!"
"Honey " - she kissed me - "show me what you think
would have happened."
I kissed her back: "You mean, act it out?"
Her hips were making little motions against mine. My
wife was completely aroused.
"Yeah, act it out. Please. If you do, I'll act out
something for you, too - or do whatever you want."
I'd do nearly anything to please my wife.
I got up from the sofa. Got one of the artificial flowers
from the vase. "Mistletoe", I explained.
I hooked it on the frame of the picture over the sofa. Got
two more glasses of wine, and gave one to my wife.
"Brandy."
She watched me over the rim of the glass as we both
drank.
I turned out the light, but the room was still pretty light:
it was mid afternoon. "I don't want the mistletoe to
catch on fire", I said.
"That's good, I don't think I want us to be interrupted";
was her reply.
I kissed her.
"This would have happened!"
We were kissing, and moving, until once again she was
lying, trapped between me and the sofa back.
I kissed her, moved my hand to her breast.
I felt her hold my hand to her, felt her hips moving
against my groin.
I moved my hand from her breast, to the buttons on her
dress.
"But I'm married", she muttered.
I had several buttons undone by then, so now my hand
was inside the dress, feeling, touching, her breast
through her bra.
"It's Christmas, this happens all the time, and I like
doing this with a married woman, and no one will ever
know. . ." I said, kissing, touching, getting into the role,
and feeling her respond..
I knew her bra unfastened in front. "Help me with your
bra."
"I shouldn't - my husband would kill me" she said, but
her hands met at her cleavage, where her dress was
unbuttoned, and there was a motion, and her hands and
arms were around me again, and my hand found the bra
loose.
I've had sex with this women countless times before, but
feeling that bra loose was incredible. I moved my hand
so I was touching her, under her breast, then moved it
up, lifting her bra over her breast, and then touched her
freed breast, her nipple. It was more exciting than I
could have imagined, pretending to be someone
seducing my wife.
"Your husband will never know I did this" I said,
touching her, rolling her nipple between my thumb and
finger, pinching her, "unless you tell him."
"My husband wouldn't want me to do this, and I won't
tell" she said, kissing me as deeply as she could, and not
stopping me!
I released her breast, let her feel my hand move to her
shoulder, down her arm, to her hand. I took her wrist,
moved it to my own crotch, to my still opened pants, to
my cock.
It felt electric when she actually touched me.
"I shouldn't be doing this," she said, but her hand was
softly stroking me, anyhow. I didn't have to forcibly
hold her hand against me.
"That feels so nice, baby, and no one will ever know" I
said, my own hand went over her hip, down her leg,
past her dress's hem, then up again, under her dress.
She moved her upper leg even more over me, spreading
her own legs, as my hand traced up her leg, past her
vagina emitting its heat and moisture, up higher, to the
elastic waistband, and then, gripping that, lower again,
until it was pulled down enough for my hand to touch
her.
She lifted a bit, so that access was easier, and then I was
touching her directly, her pubic hair, her vagina's lips,
until my fingers went into her, finding her clit,
engorged.
"Any man would want to this to you!" I/Ralph said,
fingering her, feeling her touching me, and feeling her
moving against my fingers.
"I'm married. . ." she said, as I pulled a bit, and moved,
so that she was no longer beside me, but under me, and I
was between her legs, those legs that willingly parted for
me..
Her hips were active, her legs open, and she continued
to hold and kiss me, with pelvic motions mimicking
fucking.
"But your husband isn't here - I am!" I said. I pulled
away from her. She kicked off her shoes, and I reached
under her dress, along her hips, found the hem of her
panty hose, and pulled it down. She shifter her position,
and lifteed her hips to make it easier for me.
The hose moved down her legs, and then they were off.
She lifted her hips again, and pulled her dress higher,
over her legs, to her waist.
"You won't ever tell, will you?" she asked, completely
into the role, reaching for me again.
My own pants were opened enough so that by now my
cock was out. I lay beside her, then on her, and her legs
were apart, and her hand was guiding my cock, and
suddenly - we met each other, and I was in her.
"Never!" I was into the role, too.
"I want you!" she said, being open, lubricated,
accepting.
People who have been married for a long time should be
able to control themselves, shouldn't they?
We had the fastest sex we had in years, right then. The
nosiest, too, with her crying out, and me saying things
like "I bet you wish your husband could fuck you like
this!" while I fucked her, like that.
It was over very quickly.
Moments later, we looked at the mess. Her pantyhose
were in a knotted lump, there was a seman stained dress,
and pants, and sofa.
We laughed a bit tentatively at each other, realizing we
had exposed more of our inner selves than maybe we
wanted. But we cleaned up the mess, undressed,
uncovered one of the two double beds in the room, and
got in.
We just held each other, loving each other. Made love,
which was so much more than just fucking.
"Thank you, honey, for that," she said. "I really wanted
to know what it would have been like, if I let things go
on at that party."
"It was really something, wasn't it? You're a bad girl." I
said, and she agreed.
There was a long comfortable pause.
"Honey?" she asked.
"Hmmm?"
"When you were telling me about what happened at the
airport with Betty and her husband, didn't you say you
wondered what it would have been like if you took them
up on their invitation?"
"Yeah, sure, I do wonder. And not just about doing it
with her, but what it would be like for him if we were
both screwing her at the same time. I got turned on a lot
thinking about it. Remember what happened when I
came home from that trip - we had sex, a lot!"
"I remember the fucking. Now I know why. Well,
honey, you were very good to me just now, and I
pretended you were Ralph."
"I know. Sometimes I pretend you're someone else, too.
There's nothing wrong with that."
"I know. I did tell you that if you helped me pretend,
I'd do something for you, too?"
"I remember that - when do I collect, and for that
matter, what do I collect?"
"You helped me live out my `almost'. Maybe we should
do yours, now.."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you know, a guy, and his wife, and they want
to celebrate like that. . ."
"I don't think I could play both roles", I said.
Dotty rolled on her side, facing me. Looking directly at
me - into me - and made her suggestion. "I don't mean
that way. I mean, you could be the husband, and I'd be
the wife, and we'd find someone to celebrate with. Like
what nearly happened to you in LA - would you like
that?"
"You mean, you, and me, and another guy!"
"If you'd like to, sure. After what you did, I'd like to do
that for you. And it's raining, and we don't know
anyone here, and we don't have anything else to do.
Besides, part of assertiveness training is to do something
that makes you a bit uncomfortable."
There was a long, long pause. `Nothing else to do' was a
pretty weak reason for starting something like this.
But: my cock grew again.
She felt that, rolled on to me, mounted me.
And I was in her, again.
"I guess that means `yes'" she said, after she felt me
urgently, and violently, push in her, driving us both to
orgasms again.
I rolled off, after what amounted to another quickie.
Damn, I've turned into a premature ejaculator! And my
fucking brain was letting my fucking penis do the
fucking thinking!
"Would you actually want to do that?" I asked.
"If it would excite us the way you've been exciting me,
and if you'd like it, I sure would."
"I've never been in a three some," I said.
She hugged me, stroked at my cock. "Me neither. But
we are on vacation. We said we wanted to try some new
things. Wanna try, big guy?"
Who IS this woman?
She looked at the clock. "It's only 7:30 PM, and it's
Friday night", she said. "Let's go out and try to do it
now. Are you up for it?" this new stranger who was my
wife said, looking at me, and smiling.
"I'm ready for anything" was my status report to me,
and her.
We showered, dressed. I wore light weight slacks, and
she, a summer dress. She looked cool, but typical of
women there - she didn't look like anyone "on the
prowl".
"You don't look like you're going out to pick someone
up," I said, only to hear her respond "the clothes don't
make the woman!"
"Where should we go?" I wondered, aloud.
"We both had too much to drink - let's go to the lounge
here, first," was her very practical suggestion.
Ten minutes later we were in the lounge. It was busier
than I expected, filled with wet golfers, mainly.
We got a table - more drinks!
"Now what?" I wanted to know.
"Now, I practice assertiveness, unless you're bothered by
that" was how my wife phrased it.
A group of four guys a table away were just finishing
their last beers. We heard them planning their evening.
"All the guys go to the Crazy Horse and watch the
dancers, Mike. Come on along! It's our last night here,
party a little", we heard. Three of the four stood. I
guessed it was Mike, still sitting, who said something
about not wanting to go, he'd rather stay here.
They left, and Mike was alone.
"Mike" Dotty asked, "We're looking for some fun
tonight. What's the Crazy Horse like?"
Mike looked at her, at me, and sort of mumbled "It's a
girlie club, m'am, a strip joint."
Mike, in a moment, had responded to Dotty's invitation
and brought his beer to our table.
I sat back, wanting to see just how this was going to go
down.
"How come you're not going to the Crazy Horse?" she
wanted to know.
"M'am" - God, these southern men are polite - "I'm
getting a divorce, and just looking at girls dancing
around naked ain't enough. And I don't think it's the
sort of place you'd take a lady, sir."
OK, so I'm forty something, and Dotty's nearly as old,
and Mike is only about thirty, but this "Sir" and "M'am"
isn't cutting it!
"Well, we want to do something exciting tonight. If
you're not going with your buddies, why not stick
around with us?" Dotty said, and being a mind reader,
she added "so long as you call me Dotty, not M'am, and
my husband Bob, not sir. OK?"
"Yes, yeah, sure, uh, Dotty, and Bob. I'd like that."
It took a few minutes for us to learn he was here with
some buddies from Atlanta, he'd been separated from
his wife of eight years for a month, wasn't dating
anyone, just getting used to the concept of no longer
having a woman at home "and I miss that part of being
married" he said, finishing his biography.
The lounge was filling with the last of noisy golfers - a
crowd of college age guys, full of vigor, and youth, and
noise, and enthusiasm for playing this course, and noise.
Did I mention they were noisy?
And, I was impatient. I got used to the idea of screwing
her while some other orifice accommodated some other
penis, and I wanted to get it on!
"It's noisy here, let's go someplace else, like our room" I
said. Dotty looked at me, and newly skilled in
expressing herself, leaned toward Mike, and put a hand
on his thigh - he was wearing shorts, it was a skin to
skin contact. "Yeah, let's go to our room, and celebrate
there. We can really make a party of it if Mike comes.
Will you come, Mike?"
There was a pause while we were presented with our
bill, but Dotty's hand stayed where it was, fingers
moving a bit.
Later Dorothy confessed she didn't mean to emphasize
`come' so much - it was an unintended pun, or was it a
forecast?
The bill was signed - it's so easy billing our room, and
having another bottle of Asti sent there at this hotel, this
time with "Three glasses, right, Mike?"
I noticed, as Mike followed Dotty, and I followed him,
that his shorts were a lot lumpier in front than earlier.
Something was exciting him! Well, I had some of the
same problem.
We arrived, and sat in the sitting room on the sofa. Our
flowers were still hanging from the picture frame! Dotty
first went to the TV/Radio unit, found some smooth
jazz, and filled the room with subtle music. Then she sat
next to Mike on the sofa. I made that choice easy, since I
was sitting on the only other upholstered chair.
"Uh, Dotty, what are those flowers doing on the picture
frame?"
"You tell him, Bob."
"Mike, we were doing some acting here this afternoon.
That was a stage prop."
"I act in a community theater back home - what were
you rehearsing?"
"It was an impromptu thing. That was mistletoe."
And Dotty said "Yeah, so we could do this" and leaned
to him, hand again on his thigh, and kissed him on the
lips. He kissed back, and I could see there was some
tongue work involved, too. Mike wasn't too shy.
When the kiss broke, Mike took a deep breath. "I
haven't kissed a woman in over a month. This could be
a nice party."
"I hope so," Dotty said, standing. "I'll be right back."
She left. Stage right? Anyhow, to the bathroom.
"What's going on, Bob?"
"Oh, we have some things to celebrate, and Dotty would
- no, we both would - like to celebrate with you."
Mike was nervously finishing his wine, and I filled his
glass again. "I've never done anything like this. . ."
I interrupted: "Neither have we".
An unsettling few minutes passed, two more glasses of
wine went down, when Dotty reappeared, wearing a
terrycloth robe. It ended about six inches above her
knees.
"You know, I didn't bring any sexy night clothes," she
said. "We'd been married too long, I guess.
"This is the best I could come up with. Is it OK?"
"It's fine, honey," I said. Mike didn't offer an opinion.
Dotty was swaying to the music, standing between the
sofa and the chair.
"I hope you won't be sorry you didn't go to the Crazy
Horse with your buddies," she wanted to know.
"At first I was. It's not nice to say in mixed company,
but it's kind of fun to watch a stripper sometimes, and
get some lap dancing."
"Mike, isn't it more fun to be with a woman than to see
a stripper?"
"Yeah," of course he agreed.
"Is this close enough to what we were talking about?"
she directed the question to me.
I nodded. Well, my throat had gone dry. I don't think I
could have made a sound.
"Dare me?"
I recovered my voice. "I dare you!"
"Isn't lap dancing when someone dances pretty much
on your lap?" she asked Mike.
"That's exactly right, doll" Mike responded, fully
involved in this, now, and the formal "m'am" and "sir,
and "Dotty" and "Bill" were gone.
She moved in front of him, swaying, hands behind her
back.
"Sort of like this?"
"Most times they're topless in this state."
"Oh."
She swayed some more.
And, Looking at me, said "Let's go into the bedroom."
She's really going to do it!
Mike and I, in a flash, were in the other room, sitting on
the only fresh bed.
"No, no, lie down."
We lay, on either edge, looking at her at the foot of the
bed.
She bent, working on Mike's shoes and socks. I kicked
off my sandals.
Then she stood, swaying again to the music. The
motions caused her robe to open a bit, we both could see
that wonderful triangle of skin, starting at her throat,
ending just a little north of her navel. Yes, she was at
least topless under the robe. Probably bottomless, too.
Then, on her knees, she came on the bed, between us.
"This is going to be a nice party", she said.
She turned to me, kissed me, and I, her. Her leg reached
over my hip, and my hand went to it, slid up her outer
thigh, to her hip. Yeah, she was bottomless under there,
too. And my cock wanted freedom, right now!
Not to be, though. She broke the kiss, and rolled toward
Mike, her robe open even more. Not yet displaying tits
and cunt, but promising that! She had something more
advanced than lap dancing in mind, though.
She kissed Mike as she did me, with a leg over his hip,
too. I noticed, though, his hands weren't doing the same
exploring mine did.
"Mike", she said, after the kiss ended, "My boss told me
I wasn't assertive enough, and I promised I'd try harder.
How am I doing?"
His response was smothered by her lips.
I sat up, both for a better view, and so I could peel my
shirt off.
I stayed sitting, watching her, in the arms of another
man, kissing him, responding to his kiss, her hips
making those wonderful little motions that every man
would want to feel.
And that kiss ended, too.
Dotty looked at me, now shirtless, and at Mike. "Sit up,
Mike" she commanded. "You're behind the curve."
As he sat, she pulled at his shirt, and in a moment had it
over his head, and off.
Pretty good body, I thought.
"Honey, help me with this, please," Dotty, this shy
woman I used to know, said, kneeling now, beside Mike.
I moved behind her.
I watched as she reached to her waist.
She looked at me as she untied the sash, allowing the
robe to open even more..
She continued to look at me over her shoulder while
Mike, now laying in front of her, looked at her.
"Bob, PLEASE help me with this."
So, I did what any perverted husband would do.
I reached around her neck.
My hands found the lapel of the robe.
"That's the idea, honey, I want you to do that" she said,
as I pulled a little,
and her shoulders were visible to me,
and Mike's expression was all the proof I needed that he
was looking at her breasts,
and I began moving the robe down her arms, and it
flowed away from her hips,
and she knelt a little higher, more upright, and like
some kind of divine statue extended her hands behind
her, and still looking over her shoulder at me watched as
as,
as the robe fell from her arms,
over her hands,
and she was nude.
A vision, arms back, looking over her shoulder, her hair
flowing over one shoulder, down toward her breast, her
knees a foot apart, pelvis thrust forward, pubic hair,
breasts, everything, all visible, all available, sexy, as
sexy, as erotic, as I had ever seen her.
I put the robe on the floor as she moved, flowing from
that position, to, then on, Mike, kissing him again, her
on top, him on the bottom, their bodies molded to one
another, her legs wide, his, between hers, his arms
around her, one on her back, the other on her ass,
pulling her, forcing her breasts, her stomach, her pelvis,
against him.
I got my belt open as I watched, and got my slacks and
briefs moving, and in a moment my cock had its
freedom.
Their kiss ended.
It was easy for Dotty to lit up, and kneel, straddling
Mike.
He still lay there, somewhat breathless - well, me too.
He looked at this vision kneeling over him, this nude
vision, this erotic, sexy, married woman.
"Mike, you're still behind the power curve" my, is this
my wife??, said.
Her actions spoke even louder. She was opening his belt,
releasing a button, a zipper.
"Lift up a bit, Mike" she commanded.
He arched, his hands on the waist of his shorts, pushing,
while she pulled.
And his cock was exposed, erect, upright.
She got off him, moving to one side,
and they together got the tangle of shorts and briefs off
his legs,
and then she was kneeling over him again,
and then she was laying on him again,
and I moved to the bottom of the bed,
watching her kiss him,
watching his cock, upright, between her legs, an inch
from her cunt!
Watching as her hands, on either side of his head, held
him, as she kissed him.
Watching as his hands moved down her back, over her
ass, and further,
and they moved to his cock, and he pressed it against
her vulva, and watching as she felt that, and how her
legs opened even more, and I could see her lips now,
moist, against his shaft, her rosebud anus exposed.
"I might even take her in the ass" my mind shouted, and
my cock was so erect it hurt.
But then, she stopped.
She rolled off him, reached for me,
pulled me to the head of the bed,
and smiling, lay back.
I moved, was forced to move, facing the foot of the bed,
guided, pulled by her hands on my hips, close to her,
over her, my knees beside her head, I was leaning across
her body. Her eyes were closed, she moistened her lips,
and her tongue found the tip of my penis.
"Mike", she said, with my cock brushing her lips, "I'm
sure you know how to use my body."
Her legs opened, her breasts were flattened against her
chest, her mouth opened, belly moving with each breath.
Mike, beside her, sat up, saw her mouth filling with my
cock.
Saw me, with one hand holding my cock, point at her
pelvis with the other.
He moved to the foot of the bed, and moved up between
her legs, now widening for him, while he watched her
sucking me!
She stopped using two hands on my cock, though, and
reached down between the two of them, and found his
erection.
And she turned her head, freeing my own cock, wet with
her saliva, exposing it again. She looked down between
their bodies.
"I want to see this, honey" she said, lifting her head, as
she moved her hips, her legs, tilting, opening, until the
tip of his cock was brushing her pubic hair,
and pushing at it.
And we both watched, as Mike made little movements,
too,
and then, suddenly, their pelvises were touching,
their pubic hair merged,
and her hand on my cock grasped it tighter,
and she gasped,
and flushed a ruddy red,
and her legs straightened, beside him, up, and apart.
It happened.
Another man was fucking her.
Mike's hips moved away, and now we saw his cock
again, this time glistening, wet.
Wet, with her.
It wasn't a dream anymore.
She turned toward me, her mouth again finding me,
erect and throbbing, and her hand holding my cock, and
her mouth, kept perfect time with her hips, and Mike's
hips, as he fucked her.
I was losing my erection - this wasn't as great as I
thought - and Mike was intent on losing his, too, the
more common way, the more exciting way.
It probably was a month since Mike had sex. His
motions became more urgent, harder, demanding
Dotty's attention. Her mouth abandoned my cock, even
if her hand didn't, and she was fully involved with this
prick in her cunt: pushing when he pushed, pulling
away as he did, pumping a flood of lubrication. There
was noise, from their mouths, from their slapping
pelvises, from the bed, and even moans from me.
And then, I knew from the change in Mike's grunts, the
wetness was augmented by his own flood, something
that until a while ago was reserved for his own wife. A
flood he poured into her, ramming her in time with his
own spurts, trying to empty a month's frustration into
her.
And succeding.
He used her. Fucked her. Filled her with his cock, left
behind his sweat and his seman.
And rolled off of her, spent.
And used, too, by us.
I moved down, on my side, facing her.
She rolled, facing me.
Mike spooned into her back, and since my arm was
around her, I could feel the wetness and softening mass
of his cock, pushing at her ass, and my hand. His hands
went between us - I know one was at her breast, the
other, fingering her cunt.
My own erection was being rekindled. I felt his hand,
that had been busy touching her, touch me, then hold
my cock against my wife's cunt, and I could feel those
little hip motions from her I knew so well.
His cock, softer now, was still touching the back of my
hand, over her ass. I couldn't help myself. A little
movement, and now his cock was under my hand, and I
pressed it against her ass, and between her legs. I could
feel his hand on me, while my hand was holding him,
and Dotty was rocking, and then both our cocks were
touching, there, between her legs, and her hand went
down, and held both cocks against her vulva. Her hip
motions increased, and in a moment I heard the
whimpering noise I always associated with her having a
minor orgasm.
And thenm we were still.
We all three held each other.
I felt motion, and then only Dotty and I were in the bed,
and Mike was pulling on clothes.
He whispered "Goodnight and thanks", and soon I heard
the door close.
Dotty cuddled against me, and her hand found my penis,
only enlarged, not erect.
But her hand, her skilled hand, began working its
magic, and soon, I responded.
She rolled to her back, pulled me on her,
and my cock found what had been its exclusive home for
the past eighteen years.
A home no longer exclusive, now violated with his
sperm, wet with her excitement.
I couldn't help it - I began fucking into that cavity, that
pocket, moving his leavings, and soon, for the third or
fourth time this day, depositing some of my own.
Somehow, later, we got the lights out, and slept.
Saturday came, we awoke, in each other's arms.
And cuddled.
"About last night. . ." I started to say,
and was cut off by her lips.
And that turned into something more intense than a
good morning kiss.
Twenty minutes later we were in the shower together.
"About last night. . . " I started again.
"It was a good idea" Dotty said, "we did it, and I'm
glad. Smarter, too. And guess what!"
"What?"
"Honey, yesterday hardly counted as a vacation day. We
have another three days and two nights to go! I hope it
rains every day. I LOVE assertiveness training."
If you liked this story, or have some comments about it, let me know.
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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