Susan didn’t exactly dress conservatively, but she wasn’t out to show off her goodies either. I would describe her attire as classy. Form fitting, but never tight. Maybe a hint of cleavage for a night on the town. Just enough to leave no doubt that she was all woman.
The Susan that I escorted the pool was ready to give me my own private show, so what if the other hotel guests were around to see. She stood right in front of my lounger when she peeled off her swim cover to reveal one of the tiniest white bikinis I had ever seen. Her top wasn’t a string bikini and she wasn’t wearing a thong, but there wasn’t much difference. And with the gold rings stretching to hold the fabric on her hips and baring her ample cleavage…. well she looked… just hot. Very hot. With her gold choker necklace, gold hoop earrings and round tortoise shell sun glasses and pink pouty lips glistening with a shimmering gloss she may not have been ready for the runway, but she would have fit perfectly in the pages of Playboy.
She looked right at me the entire time she was smoothing sun tan lotion all over her body. She had clearly been secretly working on her tan before we had arrived. She would turn directly to me and run her hand around her neck then lightly trace the line of her cleavage with her fingers. When no one was close, she would open her legs to show me that her outfit was barely keeping the lips of her pussy contained.
Her new bikini must have been uncomfortable, because it seemed to be in constant need of adjustment. Gently pulling the fabric away from her body, showing just a little extra skin and then replacing in just the right position. It must have really been bothering her that one time, when she pulled her bikini bottoms into her crotch with both hands while straddling the end of my lounger. I knew because her eyelids were fluttering. And then there was her need to turn her back to me and re-adjust her bottoms so that they wouldn’t ride up the crack of her ass. A single finger pulling the offending garment back into place was all it took. My personal favorite was the particular challenging adjustment that required her to lean over her chaise ever so slightly holding the top of her chair with one hand while turning her face to me over her shoulder with her teeth gently biting her bottom lip. That one took a long time.
We weren’t trying to get sloppy drunk, but we were sipping cold drinks the entire day. And the whispering. Susan didn’t let up the entire day.
“Is that hard cock for me, sweetheart? Are you going to let me play with him?”
“I love your big, hard dick, David. It stretches me in all the right places.”
“I don’t think I’ll look for a job in Chicago, David. I think I’ll just be your full-time sex slave. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Honey, are you planning on shoving your cock down my throat when you fuck my face? I just want to know what I should be ready for.”
After an afternoon of swimming, sunning and drinking we wandered back up to our suite, and Susan told me to hop into the shower. After I rinsed myself off and re-dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, I wandered out of the bedroom, where I found Susan waiting for me with a cold beer and the remote.
“Sit down and relax, honey. I am going to take a quick shower myself. Pick out a movie and when it’s over, come join me in the bedroom.”
With a quick peck on the check she was off, leaving me alone with the hotel’s adult movie PPV menu on the giant flat screen. Porn. This was new. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that “Slutty Nurses #7″was the current selection, so that is the one I chose. After 55 minutes of cinematic genius I made my way to the bedroom. Again Susan was waiting for me, this time in a black cup-less corset, black thigh high stockings and black high heels.
“It is time for you to use me, David. I am here as your own personal porn star. You should use me any way you want, for as long as you want. There is only one requirement. Before you are finished using me, you have to take this bottle, lube up your cock and fuck my ass. It has never been used before, David. Well except for my fingers and the dildo I have been using to prepare myself for your massive tool. But it is yours, and before we finish, I need you to fuck the shit out of my ass, claim that virgin territory, and let me know I am yours, forever.”
Our week in Las Vegas quickly fell into a routine. Gentle lovemaking first thing in the morning, a long afternoon of playful teasing, and wild uninhibited sex every night. Well except for the last day of our trip when we chose to live as nudists for 24 hours until it was time to take the cab to the airport.
We continued our routine at home for several months. Gentle and slow, before heading to the office. Fast and hard before bed each night. We even kept up our nudist tradition on weekends every once in awhile.
Outside the bedroom, my Susan was the same loving, caring, considerate friendly person that she was before we married. But in the bedroom, or any other time we were alone, she was a wild women. When we talked about the change, she said I had earned her complete trust and, as her husband, I was entitled to everything she had to offer both inside and outside the bedroom. It made a lot of sense.
My favorite couplings were the times when it seemed we just couldn’t get enough of each other. Looking into each other’s eyes, passion blocking out everyone and everything but us and our time together. Just Susan and I together. Nothing else mattered. Those were special times.
My wife’s teasing ways continued. In public, she was always finding opportunities to flash me her goods. At home, she just let it all hang out, rubbing her body against me as if the only path across a wide open room was right next to me. Blatantly dropping whatever she was holding so she could bend over, legs straight and wiggle her ass in my face. She said she loved to get me so worked up that I couldn’t control my lust. I frequently just stopped what I was doing, bent her over wherever she stood and fucked the shit out of her. She said her favorite time was when, after she had slowly brought my passion to boil over a long day of yard work, I picked her up and ripped her panties off. She was holding on for life with her arms and legs as I basically dropped the full weight her body onto my cock until she came. Then I finished by backing her into the wall of the house and pounded her pussy until my orgasm overtook my senses. By the time we were done, she said she felt like her pussy was leaking like a sieve.
Everything else was great fun, too. As the years went on, we became more and more comfortable about sharing our fantasies. Really sharing, we would talk about them. Why they turned us on, where our thoughts had originated, the little details that would make them seem real. This was the one area where Susan made the ironclad rule. We could act out any role we wanted, Susan the high priced call girl or David the delivery boy, but we would never pretend to be someone else and never ever pretend to be another real person. That was fine with me. Susan was always my fantasy girl.
And so every couple of months, one of our fantasies would come to life. Susan’s fantasies seemed to focus on her as the seductress: her teaching a young inexperienced man how to make love to a woman, seducing the married business man at a hotel without exchanging names, the naughty school girl fucking her professor for a better grade. Mine were all over the map: being Susan’s sex slave for the day, Susan as a French maid, Susan the slutty babysitter, Susan the harsh schoolteacher.