Sin City
written by:
dubd

Sin City

Like everyone else, I've heard it said, "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." My standard response to that has always been, "Yeah, the ATM withdrawal happens there and the money stays there." Hence the alternative name: Lost Wages.

A married co-worker of mine has told me about business trips to a client of his based in Las Vegas and scoring with cocktail waitresses and women in town for one convention or another who were feeling lonely and horny and looking for company for the night. I, of course, would listen to his conquests with great interest while at the same time feeling pity for his, I assume, unsuspecting wife.

When I'd ask him if he didn't feel guilt about cheating on his wife, he'd start with, "What happens in Vegas ." and end with, "You should try it. It really livens up a marriage, getting a little strange. So long as you, you know, keep it on the down low."

I'd always protest that my closest client was nowhere near Vegas and somehow, "What happens in Frisco ." didn't have the same ring. Of course, it didn't help that I was hopelessly in love with my own wife who, after ten years of marriage, was still a knockout. We still had an active, if somewhat pedestrian, sex life and on those occasions when I had to visit a client, I'd get hard in the taxi on the way home, knowing that April would be waiting for me at the door wearing a crotchless teddy, or some other equally fetching ensemble. We'd go upstairs and fuck, then fall asleep in each other's arms, confident in mutual satisfaction. Every once in a while, we'd play common little sex games where we'd pretend to be fucking different people.

It started innocently enough. One evening when I was buried in April's cunt, she said, "Dan, if you could be fucking anyone else right now, who would it be?"

That stopped me cold. Do I give the politically correct answer: "Why, there's no one else I'd rather be fucking than you dear"? Or maybe, "Well, you know, your friend Heather is smokin' hot." Or do I pick someone so completely out of my league that she couldn't possibly feel threatened by? I figured that she had a reason for asking or she wouldn't have mentioned it so I chose the latter.

"That chick on Grey's Anatomy, you know the one plays Izzy Stevens. She'd be fun. How `bout you?"

"Mmm. She's gorgeous alright, I'll have to get a blond wig," she said. "You'd be Pierce Brosnan."

Oops. While April is, as I've said, a knockout, (she's five foot seven with dark hair framing an angelic face, around one-hundred and twenty pounds with C-cup breasts, a flat stomach and hips with a distinctly female flair) she doesn't look anything like the Izzy chick, whereas more than one person has commented on my passing resemblance to the guy she picked. I was glad I hadn't picked Heather.

To avoid having to explain my choice - it's her mouth: I really want to feed my cock to that mouth - I fucked April harder, hoping that was what her fantasy guy would do. When she came, she cried out Pierce's name. When I came, I called her Katherine.

A couple of month's later, I came home and found her in a blond wig and surgical scrubs - I have no idea where she got them. Later, while we screwed, she asked me my name. In my best British accent I said, "My name is Bond, James Bond." Well, what the hell, I know it's childish, but she wasn't wearing anything under the scrubs so I played along.

On another occasion, she sucked my cock while I pumped a dildo in and out of her cunt. She stopped sucking on me long enough to say, with a passable Russian accent, "Fuck me like you mean it Mr. Bond!"

That kind of thing, you know. It never went any further than that, the people we'd pretend to be changing now and then was the only variety in our sexual lives. It provided diversity in our marriage without actually stepping across that line. Neither of us ever gave it a second thought. I know from talking to April since then, that until Vegas the thought of making our sex play reality was not even a blip on either of our radars. Until Vegas.

***

April had never been to Las Vegas and when we were deciding where to go on our vacation, she had lobbied heavily for Sin City. I was reluctant, having been there several times before I met April. Vegas is all glitz and no substance, I argued, you could only look at so much neon before your brain fried.

"Oh come on," April countered, "you've been to Vegas a bunch of times and I want to see it once before I die."

"Before you die, huh? A little melodramatic, I think," I said. Then I tried another tactic, "April, the entire city's set up for one thing and one thing only: to separate you from your money!"

"Oh, please," she said dismissively, "there's plenty to do in Vegas besides gamble. There's shows, there's restaurants, there's shopping." Then she put a mischievous smile on her saintly face, "Besides, we'll get a room way up a tower so we can look at the strip while you fuck me against the window. With the lights on so whoever wants to see can."

***

So, I was walking behind my wife, admiring the view of her hips swaying as we entered one of the bars in our hotel after returning from a show on the strip. She was dressed to the nines in a form fitting strapless sheath with no back that ended about mid-thigh. The whole thing was held together by laces that crisscrossed her back that I had tied myself, and which I looked forward to unlacing up in the room shortly. I hadn't actually seen her pull the dress on so I didn't know what she was wearing south of the border, so to speak, but knowing which dress she had chosen to wear, I had elected to go commando for quick action when the time came.

I grabbed her hand as she stopped and we surveyed the room, looking for an empty booth where we could have a nightcap and people watch, betting on which hook-ups would happen and which wouldn't. I leaned in next to her ear and said, "One drink. Then I'm taking you back to the room and you're paying off on that window thing."

"There's a booth back there," she said, pulling me in that direction. "That window thing was just a ploy to get you say `yes', you know. You were supposed to forget about it."

"Yeah, like that was going to happen. Be ready baby."

"Mm hm," was her only response as we arrived at the booth in a fairly dark corner she had spotted.

It was a short wait before the waitress came over to take our orders. I ordered a double Glenlivet rocks and April a lemon drop. While we waited we looked around the room which was lit to provide privacy to the patrons; which is to say mostly dark over the tables with little spotlights to show the way between them. Not too much going on this late at night, it was eleven-thirty, and most of the tables were occupied by couples obviously on the same mission as April and me. That is, a nightcap before going back to their rooms. So, we amused ourselves by guessing which pairs would be going to bed for sex and which pairs would be going to bed for sleep. Or, as in the case of one couple where the husband (or boyfriend, I guess) sat downcast and the wife/girlfriend sat with her arms crossed, pointedly not looking at him. They would be sleeping in separate parts of the suite; bed and couch I guessed.

I pointed at the couple and said, "That's what happens when you think you can beat the house. Systems do not work. Ever."

"I wonder how much he lost," April said as our drinks arrived.

It was at that point that April and my lives changed forever.

"Your lady friend at the bar has bought your drinks," the waitress said.

April and I looked at each other as I stammered, "Oh, thank you. Could you point her out?"

"The lady in blue at the end of the bar," she said.

"Oh, yes, of course," I said. Once the waitress had left, we lifted our glasses to our new friend who returned the gesture with her margarita, picked up a handbag that matched her dress and started our direction. Like my wife, her dress was a sheath, but hers plunged in front low enough to reveal a pierced navel adorned by what appeared to be a diamond that flashed as she walked. I wondered how it stayed up. As far as I could tell, the diamond was the only jewelry she had on. Her dress was longer than Aprils, ending just below the knee, but with a slit up the side to her hip providing a flash of well-toned thigh with each step. She might as well have been naked, painted in electric blue that shimmered - tiny sequins maybe? - as she passed through the pools of light, weaving between the tables. To April I said, "Do you know her?"

"You mean you don't?" April sounded mildly cross. "She looks like your dream girl."

"Who?" Then I remembered Izzy. She did look like her, sort of, with the blond hair, but a slightly fuller figure. Tiny waist though. Not enough that I'd say she looked like her, except maybe in the mouth. Yeah, I could definitely see a resemblance there. Like my wife, a knockout to be sure, but to confuse her for the Izzy chick? "Nah. No way."

"Don't worry," the woman said with a slight southern drawl - not native born, but there -- to my wife when she arrived at our booth, "your husband doesn't know me. And neither do you, so you don't need to wrack your brain." She sat down without being asked. "I told the waitress I knew you so she wouldn't wonder."

"Wouldn't wonder what," April asked.

"Why I would buy drinks for total strangers."

"And why would you?"

A perfectly reasonable question, I thought. There was only one answer I could think of, but that just didn't happen. I sat dumbstruck when she answered.

"Well, I want to fuck your husband, of course." She casually sipped her drink through her straw as if she had asked April where she had bought her dress.

I expected April to pop a blood vessel, and though there was an edge to her voice, she surprised me by keeping her cool, "And what made you think that was even a possibility?"

"I watched you two come in the bar," she said. "You were holding hands, clearly attached to each other, even in love, but you sort of take each other for granted. Not in a bad way, but in a married-ten-years sort of way. When you sat down, you sat together, not across from each other, clearly talking to each other, but not looking at each other. You were looking around the room instead, checking out the other couples; did you notice the couple who won't be sleeping together?" We didn't answer so she continued, "Anyway, I figure you've been out to a show and came in here for a nightcap before going up to your room for a mildly adventurous if predictable romp. Am I right?"

"Well, not too predictable," I mumbled, which got me an elbow to the ribs.

The mystery woman smiled smugly, "Shall I tell you about my first trip to Vegas?"

"Who are you, first," my wife interjected.

She held out her hand, "Cinderella. You can call me Cindy." Neither of us took the proffered hand. "You shall be Jack. And you're Jill. So, do you want to hear?"

"I can't wait," April said sardonically.

Cindy looked at me, "Do you want to hear?"

I shook my head and shrugged, "Sure. Why not?"

Cindy smiled, "First, I don't live here. I live in a city a long way away from here. You don't need to know which one, but if you were to run into me there, you wouldn't recognize me. I don't dress like this, I don't wear this makeup, I sure don't approach strangers like this. I never went anywhere or did anything. On an impulse five years ago, I decided that I needed to do something. Something that was totally out of character for me, something that nobody would ever expect. Then I was reading the Sunday paper's travel section and there were these incredible deals in Sin City. Someone as conservative as me would never be caught dead here. I booked the trip the next day. I was so excited; I went out and bought the sexiest clothes I could muster." She looked down and blushed a little. Despite myself, I found it endearing. I snuck a glance at April to find her listening intently which surprised me in and of itself. "Though nowhere near this. I've progressed some.

"Anyway, soon I found myself here and I loved this place. You could do anything you wanted here, be anybody you wanted and nobody would judge you or care. About halfway through that first trip, I found myself in a bar much like this one, dressed provocatively I thought, and ordering a drink late at night. That drink was bought for me like I bought yours."

"And that was all it took," my wife interrupted.

"Well, you have to understand," Cindy said simply, "I was ready for it. Back home, like I said, I'm very conservative. I don't really date. Guys come on to me; sure, even though I dress down from this, you can't really hide it. So guys come on to me, but I very rarely go out with them. I know they only have one thing on their mind, and I wouldn't want it to get around that I'm easy or a slut or anything, so I don't go out."

"So you're just a slut here, in Vegas." Ouch. Who knew that April had such a rapier side to her.

"I don't know if I'd call me a slut; I am selective, but I do let my hair down when I'm here."

"We should be flattered that you want to fuck my husband then. Tell us about the guy who bought your drink." I suddenly realized that I was no longer part of the conversation, except as a piece of meat. When did that happen and how did I feel about it? I didn't know and the fact that April hadn't just dragged us away from this harlot had an erection growing in my pants so I guess I was okay with it. Sure as hell, I was going to slam her hard when we got up to the room. At this point, I was sure that was how the evening was going to end. Up in the room with April pretending to be Cindy, that's all.

Cindy continued, "He was gorgeous. I knew what he wanted and decided that I was okay with that; I was more than ready for it myself. When I invited him over to my table, I noticed a tan line on his ring finger and he saw me looking.

"'What happens in Vegas -` he started and, of course, I finished, ` - stays in Vegas.'

"But, of course, I didn't care if he was married. I was never going to see him again and he was going to cheat that night anyway so it might as well be with me. Back home he was the kind of guy that never asked me out - because of the vibe I put off or the way I dress, maybe - but also the kind that push all my horny little fucker buttons so I let him take me up to his room. After we finished our drinks, of course. I was scared to death. I'd never had a one night stand before and I needed the courage to go through with it. By the time I had finished the drink, though, I'd decided that I was going to fuck him like I'd always wanted to fuck a man, but didn't have the guts to back home. Wouldn't want it getting around, right?"

"Heavens," was my wife's oily response, "what would the neighbors think?"

Cindy reached across the table, laughing as she touched April's hand, "Exactly. Anyway, he was either very well off or had a wonderful expense account, because it was a very long ride in the elevator up to his floor. I'd had boyfriends in college, but as I said, I've pretty much repressed my urges since then. I didn't realize how much until my nipples got hard just from him pulling me back against him and kissing my neck on the ride up. We were alone in the elevator and I could feel a bulge against my back so I turned around and stroked what felt like a very impressive dick through his pants. By the way Jack, how big is yours?" Then before I could answer, she reconsidered and said, "Maybe I should ask you Jill."

"Not that you're likely to find out," April said with a syrupy smile, "it fills me up nicely."

Cindy got a dreamy look to her face, "Mmm, we'll see. Anyway, by the time we got to his floor, my blouse was open and my bra pulled down, exposing my tits -- poor bra never was the same; I had to throw it away. So the doors open and he grabs me by the hand, pulling me out.

"'Wait,' I said, `someone will see.'

"'Let them,' he replied. `It's not far.'

"At that point we were in the hall - empty, thank God - and the inherent unfairness of the situation struck me. I mean, here I was, going to fuck a total stranger like a common whore with my tits exposed for anyone who might open a door to see and he was fully clothed. Just then an idea formed in my head and I surprised him by yanking on his hand and pinning him against the wall.

"'I'm not the only one who's going to be naked here,' I said as I pulled down his fly." She stopped with a pensive look, "Do either of you watch porn?"

She smiled at our reaction to the non sequitur. April and I both jerked a little, torn from the Scheherazade-like spell she was spinning, and looked at each other with no answer.

"Oh, come on," Cindy chided, "you must have seen some. Maybe even watched it together, for an idea here and there. Purely medicinal reasons, only."

I weakly piped up, "I've had occasion - bachelor parties and the like -- though, not recently."

"Me too," April agreed.

"Good," Cindy said, seemingly satisfied. "Then you'll know what I mean when I tell you that I always thought that the men in those flicks looked big because the women were small, you know? Small hands, small mouths, small pussies; a guy's cock would have to look big in comparison, right? Let me tell you, the cock I pulled from those pants that night would have made this guy a star. It was huge! By far the biggest I'd ever seen. He grunted a little because I sort of had to yank it to get it through the opening. I suppose I bent it some."

"Ow," I said.

Cindy laughed, "Really. Suddenly, I forgot that we were in a hallway. I couldn't help it; I sank to my knees so I could be on eye-level with that monster. Where was I going to put it? My hand would barely close around it. I had intended to use it as a handle. You know, take control of the situation by leading him to his room with it - not that I knew his room number or anything - but here I was, using that hand to pump his cock in a public hallway, juices beginning to flow from my cunt, my mouth just inches from its swollen head. A gentle nudge to the back of my head by his hand and suddenly that head was in my mouth, and then some of the shaft. I hadn't given many blowjobs at that point in my life, but I wanted to give this one. I knew I wasn't going to give a good one though, he was just too big, I wouldn't be able to take enough of him in my mouth. I made a valiant effort, though, looking up at him for approval. He still had one hand on the back of my head, his hips starting to rock back and forth with his eyes closed, so I guessed I was doing okay."

Without looking away from our story teller, I dropped a hand below the table and let it rest on April's thigh. She spread her legs a bit - also without breaking eye contact with Cindy - and I slid my hand up her leg, past the top of her stocking, pushing the hem of her skirt up so I could tickle the very sensitive skin at the top of her inner thighs. She was, by the way, wearing some sort of underwear - dammit! Damp underwear, I was surprised to note.

"I kept that up for a few minutes," Cindy continued, "frustrated that I couldn't take more of him in my mouth. I'd never learned to deep throat - " she looked at me pointedly " - I've gotten better at that. I couldn't take him all in my mouth, maybe, but I had another, very moist hole, that was crying to be filled and that I thought could accommodate him very nicely.

"I broke off and stood up, never stopping my hand's stroking and kissed him with the passion of years without real sex.

"'Where's your room,' I asked.

"His voice was husky when he said, `Just down here,' and led me in that direction.

"I wasn't wearing pantyhose, so that was good, but I was also not wearing sexy underwear and that somehow made me disappointed. Just normal cotton things, but I thought I could find an erotic way to get out of them. It was then that I noticed the security camera pointing down the hall where we had just been and was mortified.

"I leaned against the wall covering my face and he stopped, asking me what was wrong?

"I couldn't say anything but just pointed.

"He looked and laughed. `Well, someone got a good show," he said. `If you really want to make their night, flash them your bush.'

"'Flash them my bush,' I said, incredulous.

"'It's late,' he replied, `how many thrills do you suppose those poor bastards get. Let `em see what they can't have.'

"We were at his door and it sort of solved my granny panty problem. So, I reached up under my skirt and quickly stripped them down and into my purse before I turned my back to the camera and bent at the waist. He took the cue and pulled my skirt up. So now my tits were hanging out and my ass had a breeze blowing on it. He spread my cheeks and I felt a finger slip into my cunt.

"'God, I can't wait to tap that,' he said.

"'I can't for you too either,' I said standing up, `but you're going to have to use something bigger than your finger, so hurry up and open the fucking door!'

"A slide of the card and a click of the lock and he pulled me inside. When the door closed, he mashed me against it and kissed me hard, like he was trying to swallow me. His hands were all over my body, getting rid of my blouse and bra, playing with my tits, running up my back, finally settling on my ass.

"Not that my hands had been quiet, pulling off his shirt, undoing his belt and pants, massaging his prick. When his hands stopped at my ass, I lifted one leg, wrapping it around his waist and he pressed against me. I was stuck to the wall like a butterfly, so I lifted my other leg and he lifted me over his cock. I almost came right then, anticipating being impaled in such a vulnerable position, my cunt was just gushing, but I still had my skirt on and it got in the way. So close!

"`I need you in me,' I whined.

"Then his hands left my ass for a moment, bunching my skirt around my waist, before once again raising me up above his cock and this time, sliding my cunt down onto his member slowly, giving me the opportunity to savor being split in two by that massive rod. I remember being impressed that he was able to control my descent and then lift me again and again, but it really didn't matter, I was cumming before I bottomed out that first time. I can't even describe it. It was a life altering event, cumming that hard and for that long. Every time he lifted and lowered me, my clit would mash against him and I'd cum again. It was incredible and if I had my way, I'd still be riding his pole, but my body didn't have endless reserves and soon my legs started getting too heavy.

"He fucked me like that for quite a while, though, until I let my legs drop out of exhaustion and he pulled out of me. God, I felt sooo empty! I saw a couch further into the room and I led him to that on shaky legs, shedding my skirt on the way. Now all I was wearing were my stiletto heels, which I thought he'd find a turn on.

"The end of the couch faced the window and I knelt on the cushions, resting my arms on the armrest, looking up the strip towards The Stratosphere as he positioned himself behind me and plowed into my cunt, filling my void with one merciless thrust that knocked the breath out of me. I felt so - "

"Violated?" April murmured; my fingers had located her clit through the thin material of her panties and were moving it in little circles. I was wondering why she had let this story go on this long. Did she find it as erotic as I did, listening to a total stranger weave a tale of anonymous sex? Or was her plan to get me worked up to the point that I'd drag her up to the room and fuck her blind? I didn't know but I was enjoying myself, so I wasn't going to argue.

"Validated," Cindy corrected, "sexy beyond my wildest dreams. I'd never felt that way before, never allowed myself to feel that way. Here I was, the object of pure lust, picked up in a bar by a man that an hour before I didn't even know existed, making those little sounds you make when your pussy's really getting pounded - by the way, Jack, are you playing with Jill's pussy?"

My hand froze and April's legs clamped shut.

"It's okay if you are," Cindy said, smiling. "It's just that Jill's eyes are sort of glazed over. If you can make her cum before my story's finished, maybe she'll let us play."

I expected that to put an end to this little diversion, but to my surprise, April spread her legs again and actually slid forward on the seat to give my hand access to the rest of her sopping pussy. What did that mean? And I felt sorry for the next people who sat in this booth.

Cindy continued, "So, there I am, looking out at the city, getting fucked from behind, another of a long line of orgasms building, when I notice our reflections in the glass. I could see my ass over my back and every time he pumped into me, I could see my cheeks jiggle. I found it incredibly funny and started laughing.

"He stopped and said, `What's so funny?

"'Nothing,' I said, `I saw our reflections in the window. Just fuck me harder!' To emphasize the point, I pushed back onto him.

"'I'll give you something to laugh about,' he said. I think I offended him a little because now he started fucking me like there was no tomorrow. I pushed myself up off the armrest and watched us in the glass. He was fucking me so hard that my tits were jerking back and forth and that made me laugh some more.

"Well, that spurred him on like a hot poker was slapping his ass, sending me right over the edge of that orgasm that was building. I'm pretty sure I screamed, but you'd have to track him down to be certain. I do know that my arms collapsed and I hugged a throw pillow as I let the waves of pleasure wash over me.

"He was still fucking me as hard as ever as my mind returned to my body, but his breathing was getting a little ragged from maintaining his frantic pace. I thought about telling him to slow down, but his rhythm kept setting off little explosions in my cunt and I was just enjoying it too much.

"Not long after that, he said, `Oh fuck! I'm going to cum.'

"Now, like I said, I wasn't that experienced at giving head. Certainly, on the rare occasions that I had, it was only as a precursor to fucking and I had never tasted, let alone swallowed a man's cum. It always ended up in my cunt. But during this little fuck-fest, I had cum more than I think I had in my entire previous life. I wanted to reward him and thank him, so I pulled off of him and rolled onto my back so that my mouth was right below his cock and said, `Then cum for me. Cum in my mouth.'

"The confused look on his face broke into a smile and I watched him pump his cock from below until it began to jerk in his hand and the first shot from the end of it landed on my chest. Then it was in my mouth and I was swallowing rope after rope of salty, but also sweet cum. I didn't realize until my chin felt his pubic hair that he'd also been pushing it further into my mouth than I'd ever taken a cock. It was actually lodged in my throat and he was cumming practically straight into my stomach. It was such a turn-on that when he reached down and played with my clit, I came again! I hadn't even gagged!"

April brushed my hand away from her cunt and said, "And then you put on your clothes and walked away, I suppose."

"Oh, no," Cindy said. "I spent the night fucking him. He ate my pussy and I sucked his cock some more. I couldn't get enough. The last time was with him sitting in a chair facing the window. I was facing the window too, riding up and down on that marvelous cock as we watched the sun rise over the city. It was glorious. He left for home the next day and I spent the rest of the week letting myself get picked up by men I found attractive. I fucked anything with three legs. One time a guy picked me up and asked me if I had a girlfriend for his buddy. I looked his friend over and decided I liked what I saw and said, `Why not me?'

"That was fun," Cindy said, once again touching April's hand, "you should try it some time."

My wife had returned from wherever she had gone in reverie during the story and wasn't about to back down from this vixen, "And so, for the price of a drink and a story, you expect me to let you take my husband off somewhere and add him to your tally sheet? Where is the upside to this for me?"

I have to say, that surprised me. It almost sounded as if April was negotiating with this woman and I was, once again, just a slab of meat. Cindy's answer surprised me even more though.

"Well, you would come with us, of course. Who said anything about taking him away?"

"Come with you to what, watch?" April was dubious.

Cindy laughed, "Well, you can if you want. It's much more fun if you join in though. I could tell you the story of my third trip here when it was a woman who bought me the drink, but I'd much rather show you what I learned."

Okay. That's going to be it, I thought. I started to slide out of my side of the booth so April and I could leave when I saw her go rigid and her cheeks color brightly. Then she gave a small shudder.

"Jill, baby," Cindy said smoothly, "you're absolutely drenched." And then to me, "Good job Jack!"

I stopped moving, knowing that Cindy had a foot buried in April's crotch; surprised that she wasn't screaming bloody murder. Cindy opened her handbag and pulled out one of the hotel's key cards. "Tell you what," she said, "let's do this. I'm in room twenty-four ten. Where are you?"

April still sat in stunned silence, so I said, "Several floors above that, suite twelve."

Cindy smiled confidently, "Noncommittal to the end, Jack? Okay, suite twelve, so you know which way to turn off the elevator. This is the key to my room. I have another. If you decide to have a Vegas adventure you're not likely to forget, let yourselves in. Otherwise, just slide it under the door and I'll find another way to amuse myself. There's a room service boy that's pretty reliable."

She stood to leave, the card glaring at us from the center of the table, but April stopped her, "Wait. You never really said; why us?"

In answer she leaned across the table, kissed April on the cheek and whispered in her ear. It took a couple of seconds and then she stood up and said, "You two talk it over and let me know. I'll wait a half an hour before I call room service. I hope you'll use the card." And then she walked out of the bar, heading for the elevators. Fucking nice ass. And I saw how the dress was held up: a small strap across her back that fastened like a bra.

I sat there stunned, staring at the card, the white elephant in the room. I picked it up, tapping a corner on the table. I put a finger on the opposing corner and flicked it with a finger so it spun. I slapped it down on the table. I downed what was left of my drink. I didn't know what to say. I didn't even want to think about what was going on in my pants. I knew I couldn't very well stand up at that moment.

April quietly broke the silence, "I came."

"What?!"

"At the end there - you know she used her foot, right? You had me close with your fingers - that was so erotic, you playing with me in a public place - but it was her toe that put me over. You know I'm not - but I came." I was staring at her stunned and she turned to me, "You want to fuck her, don't you?"

Yes. "Nooo! After that story, though, I'm going to take you up to the room and make you forget your name. You will think your name is Jill."

I felt her hand grab my cock through my pants, "You say `no', but this says `yes'." I didn't reply.

It was April's turn to play with the card. I could see the wheels turning in her mind. "We have played at it though," she said thoughtfully. "But with the dildo, it's like me with two men, not you with two women. I thought if it ever happened, it would go that way, you know?"

In a joking tone of voice I said, "Tell you what, tonight we fuck her; tomorrow night we'll find a guy to help me fuck you."

"I'll hold you to that," she laughed. But there was a seriousness to her comment that I found intriguing.

Changing the subject, sort of, I said, "Come on. Let's get back to the room. I may do you in the elevator on the way up. I'm sure as hell going to pin you to the inside of the door when we get there."

I stood, holding out my hand, studiously ignoring the tent at the front of my pants. April didn't choose to ignore it though, staring at it and licking her lips. "Can't wait," she said, taking my hand.

We left the bar and went to the elevators. I couldn't keep my hands off her, stroking her back and grabbing her ass which didn't get the expected protest. We were alone, after all.

While we waited, I said, "Hey, what'd she say when you asked her about why?"

"She said, and I quote, `Because, the moment I saw you two enter the bar, my nipples got hard and my pussy got wet,' end quote."

"There was more to it than that," I pressed, "what else did she say?"

April cleared her throat, looking straight ahead at the doors, refusing to make eye contact with me, her cheeks turning a bright red for the second time that evening. I waited, wondering what could be so embarrassing.

"She said," April weakly began, "'I can't wait to taste your pussy while your husband fucks me.'"

We were silent for a little while, waiting on an elevator that seemed determined to try our patience. April broke the quiet, still without looking at me, "I'm not - you know - but the thought of that has me so horny that I may not let you make it to the room. Where is this fucking elevator?!" Then the doors opened and I sort of sleep walked into the cab ahead of my wife.

When the elevator doors closed, my hand went to the string holding her dress together and a little tug pulled the shoelace bow I had tied apart. With nothing holding it in place, the front fell away from her breasts, which was just fine with me. I moved behind her and slid my hands between skin and dress, caressing her tits and pinching her nipples while I planted a lingering kiss at the base of her neck. I pulled her ass back against my cock to remind her exactly what was going to happen when we got to the room. Keeping the fire stoked, you know, because frankly, the thought of Cindy eating my wife's cunt was making me want to bend April over right then and fuck the living daylights out of her. I wondered if I just pulled her dress up, would April just naturally do it.

She had just turned her head so that I could kiss her mouth when the bell rang. We both looked, disappointed to be interrupted, and I saw we were at the twenty-fourth floor.

"What's this," I said surprised.

April held up the key card. I hadn't seen her grab it and thought that it was still on the table down stairs. "We kind of said we'd return this. One way or the other. Come on, it'll be quick."

We found the door quickly enough. I expected April to just bend down, slide the card through the gap and we'd be on our way. But she hesitated. To get her mind straight, I pulled her right tit out of the top of her dress and bent down to suck its nipple. Saying, "Come on. Let's go. We have fucking to do," without in fact using words, you know. Not wanting Cindy -- who was, after all, just on the other side of the door -- to know we were there.

Still, April hesitated. She looked at the door, at the lock, at the card in her hand, at her own exposed tit and then at me. "Oh, what the fuck. Why not?"

And then to my amazement, she pulled down my fly and fished out the steel pole that was my dick and, holding it like a handle slid the key card in the lock. She looked me in the eyes as she opened the door, "It's my turn tomorrow."

Cindy was seated across the room, with her legs crossed, smiling when we stepped through the door. When she saw April's bare breast, she said, "Oh, you've started without me."

To be continued --