The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

Meg got off the bed and stood in front of me. “Unbutton my blouse, Ryan.” She put her hands on my shoulders.

I started from the untucked bottom and slowly undid her buttons. She smiled, then bent to kiss my lips. As her blouse fell open I admired how lovely her bra looked, and the pert way she filled it.

A knock announced the arrival of room service with the champagne. Harold answered the door. I glanced at Marci who made no move to cover herself. Meg sat on the bed without closing her blouse.

As should have been expected, Chloe, the Forrest Gump of our hotel, pushed a service cart into our room topped with two ice-buckets holding the champagne. Being unfettered by a decorum of any kind, she looked languidly at Marci, fully exposed in the chair, then at Meg on the bed, whose blouse was clearly undone. Her unwavering stares were only broken when Harold asked if there was anything for him to sign.

She handed him a receipt contained in a slim wallet. He signed it and she left.

Marci and Meg erupted into giggles, like two high school girls who had pulled a prank, and Harold poured the champagne. As everyone was thirsty, and as it had been at least a half hour from our last drink, we drained our glasses and Harold refilled them. That took care of the first bottle.

Meg told me to stand in front of her. I saw no reason not to comply and, once firmly settled as instructed, my left side facing Harold and Marci, she undid the button to my shorts and pulled down my zipper. She opened the shorts and pushed them down to my thighs. My legs, being slightly separated, kept them there.

As she pulled down the front of my briefs, my erection escaped in a comical fashion and seemed to startle her. She released a small laugh and took it in her hand, gave it a gentle stroke and squeeze, and put it in her mouth. Her eyes closed as her tongue examined this new addition to her mouth. This felt lovely and warm and, as before, Meg simply savored it, slowly and gently.

When she released my cock from her mouth, she held it up with her palm and licked my balls, tenderly lifting each one, curling her tongue over them wonderfully. I heard Marci release an appreciative sigh.

Meg worked in slow motion. It was a technique I’d never experienced, and it produced an unfathomable tension that was making me delirious. My knees began to shake.

She pushed my shorts and underwear to the floor. I stepped out of them and removed my shirt as she stood to remove the rest of her clothes. Once done, she laid across the bed, slightly opened her legs and raised one knee. I got on the bed intending to reciprocate her oral overture, but she pulled me up beside her, half turning into me.

She was demonstrating there was no hurry. She kissed me gently, first on my lips, then my neck, then down my chest and up to my lips again. I gently felt her breasts, my fingers slowly circling her nipples, lightly pinching them, generally teasing them. She moaned and pressed her belly into my cock. I slipped a hand down between her legs and lightly fingered her pubic hair before drawing a fingertip along her slit. Her breasts heaved as her body undulated in response. I squeezed her ass and pulled her into me. She rolled onto her back, taking me with her, as her legs separated. We embraced, but gingerly, letting our erotic heat speak in subtle ways before releasing its full fury.

I repositioned on the bed to kneel between her legs. She raised both knees, spreading her legs even further. I dipped my head and licked around her slit, probing with the tip of my tongue. She moaned avidly as her back arched. I reached a hand to her heart as my tongue slipped inside. It explored gently, savoringly, as her musk filled my nostrils. She smelled heavenly. I licked around her center, drawing tighter circles, escaping here and there to taste her thigh, the fold between her vulva and leg. Her pelvis began a slow rhythm, gently rolling in response.

I kissed her delicate lips, then licked her clit. I felt the small bud quivering against my tongue. I circled it and she heaved into me, then began another rolling motion, which increased in scope.

“That’s it, Ryan! Oh, please!!! That’s it! Right there!!! Her body shuddered before going rigid, then she erupted in shuddering spasms. She pressed my head down as she rode the last of her convulsions.

We embraced. She smothered me in kisses. My cock slipped between her legs and into her invitingly warm silkiness. She heaved herself into my cock, gripping my buttocks, and we began a slow rhythm here too. It was like riding a small wave bathing me in bliss and warmth. She cooed in my ear. “This is so nice, Ryan. Just like this.”

I tried to savor it, but all of my instincts, now fueled by a nighttime of erotic fervor, couldn’t be contained. I started to thrust madly. She put her legs straight into the air and then over my shoulders. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she said. “Ryan! You’re fucking me!!! OH GOD!!!”

I lifted my torso and looked into her eyes. She smiled as her body shook beneath me and her pert breasts and nipples brushed my chest. Everything felt right about this union. I liked this woman. I knew this woman, and admired her, and now I was making love to her. Of course, it felt right. Why shouldn’t it? She was a woman and I was a man. We were equipped to enjoy each other this way and had removed the dogma that had kept our bodies separate.

We had freed ourselves from “thou shan’t” and with our spouse’s consent. We were acknowledging what had already existed between us