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Out of Town Conference

4/23/2016

“The secret to leading a happier, more fulfilling life,
is to break those huge, seemingly insurmountable goals
into smaller, achievable ones, ” the keynote speaker
advised. “Do that, and you’ll be happy.” The audience
applauded as the man stepped away from the podium, the three-day
seminar concluded.


Angie gathered up her things, and weaving through the crowd,
heading for her room. Her plane didn’t depart until early
afternoon tomorrow, leaving her with one more night to
kill. She hadn’t believed her husband when he claimed
not only was attending out-of-town seminars not exciting,
it was boring and lonely. After two nights by herself, binge
watching TV in her hotel room, she had to agree.


As she headed for the elevators she passed that clothing
shop—again. The skirt was still there, calling to her.
Boy was it ever darling. Dare she splurge?


What the hell, you only live once. Into the shop she went,
and was soon assessing herself in it in front of a mirror.
She’d always been proud of her curvaceousness, and this
skirt showed it off better than anything she’d ever worn.
“Do you think it’s too young-looking for a 40-something
like me to wear?” she asked of the young salesgirl attending
her.


“Ma’am, if I were built like you, I’d do everything
I could to show off my figure, ” she said, looking Angie
over. “And it’s definitely not too young for you. Quite
the contrary, it seems made for you.”


Did she mean it, or was this simply a case of a polished salesperson
pitching her wares? “I’d need a top to go with it.”



“Follow me, ” the girl said, crooking her finger,
“I have just the thing for you.”


Twenty minutes later she was up in her room standing in front
of the bathroom mirror admiring her new outfit, hardly
believing her eyes. Or that she’d just forked over two
big ones to buy it. The skirt seemed shorter now than when
she’d first tried it on, and the ‘perfect match’
top showed off way too much cleavage. She sighed. “Oh
well, ever did tits attract the males.” She assessed
herself one more time. “Screw it! I’m keeping it!”
After all, how often does a girl get a chance to go out on the
town alone?


According to the young desk clerk the closest hotspot was
a place called the Amber Room, a hotel bar not far from here.
A knowledgeable taxi driver soon had her walking into a
nightclub alone for the first time since before she was
married.


The place was full, and the music blaring. Although a few
couples were up dancing, most patrons were sipping drinks
and chatting at their tables. Not wanting to tie up a table
by herself, she took a seat on a bar stool, ordered a Vodka
Tonic, and spun around to survey the room.


A tinge of guilt washed over her as she realized it was unattached
males she was looking for. That guilt lasted only as long
as it took for a hunky guy sitting with his friend to smile
her way. A tingling sensation washed over her in response
to his blatant flirting. God, it was like being single again.
She returned his smile, albeit only briefly, then spun
her stool a different direction, not wanting to appear
too eager. As she swung around, she let one leg drift to the
side, flashing a little thigh—a favored trick she’d
perfected back in her college days.


Pretending she was unaware of what she’d done, she stared
across the room—at a blank wall—doing her best to appear
enthralled with something, while in truth, what she was
really doing was trying to still her breathing.


A deep male voice startled her. It was him! How had he gotten
here so quickly? “I was wondering if you might join my
friend and me at our table?” He glanced down, first at
her exposed thigh, then at what she was sitting on. “I’m
sure you’d find a chair far comfier than that bar stool.”



She instinctively gave him a quick once-over, her gaze
settling on his left hand—or more specifically on the
gold band adorning his ring finger. There was a time seeing
a wedding ring would have set off alarms and sent her running
the other way. Now, with her being married too, it simply
leveled the playing field, giving all parties an equal
stake in the game. He was cute too—and tall. But then,
compared with her five-foot-one stature, everyone was
tall.


“Thanks the offer, ” she said, sliding off the stool.
“You’re right; this stool is miserably uncomfortable.
Whoever designed had to be way taller me.” She held out
her hand. “Hi, I’m Angie—Angie McMillan.” Good
God, she’d just introduced myself by her maiden name.



“Billy here.” He led her to his table. “This long,
lanky dude is Martin, but everyone calls him Cowboy.”



Billy had to be at least six feet tall, and ‘Cowboy’
looked to be several inches taller than him. She took a seat,
feeling like a child sitting amongst grownups.


They chatted over a couple-three more drinks. They seemed
nice, say nothing of polite, assuming you ignored those
stolen glances at her chest whenever they thought she wasn’t
looking. She hadn’t felt this feminine—this sexy,
in forever. She may have paid too much for her new outfit,
but at least it was paying dividends.


Learning that ‘she hankered’ from Monterey, California,
Cowboy asked if she’d attended its famous rock festival.



“I’m not THAT much older than you two, ” she spouted,
trying to act insulted.


Billy laughed, looking her up and down, the unabashed glean
in his eyes causing her groin to constrict. “I doubt you’re
older than either one of us. Hell, I’m 31 and Cowboy here’s
30. How old are you?”


God, they were 10-years her junior—something she definitely
wasn’t going to fess up to. “Suffice it to say I’m
older than either of you.” Billy started to say something
more, but she held up her hand. “Don’t even ask.”



An awkward silence ensued. Feeling she’d caused it,
she added, “My parents, good stoners that they were,
attended that first and famous rock concert.”


“Good stoners, eh?” Cowboy asked. “So you grew up
partaking of the weed?”


There was a time it wouldn’t have been politically correct
thing to admit such a thing, but times had changed. “Yea,
a time or two.”


“Stop beating around the bush, Cowboy.” Billy’s
gaze shifted from his friend to Angie. “What he’s trying
to say in his inimitable Cowboy way, is that we have a small
stash up in our room that we’d be more than happy to share
if you’re interested.”


Get stoned? It had been years. She looked at him, contemplating
her situation. First off, she’d just discovered the
two of them were staying here at this hotel. Secondly, two
men she’d only just met had just invited her up to their
room. And thirdly—and more importantly—she was giving
serious consideration to accepting their invitation.
“Let me think about it, ” she said, the twinkle in her
eyes hinting of her inevitable answer.


“In the meantime, ” Cowboy said, standing and offering
his hand, “how about a dance?”


Speaking of long-time-no-do. “I’d love to.”


Her head spun as she stood, forcing her to grab the back of
her chair to steady herself. How many drinks had she had,
anyway; three? Four?


“You OK?” Cowboy asked.


“I’m fine, ” she lied, weaving her arm through his.
“It happens sometimes if I stand up too quickly.”


He guided her to the dance floor. A western song was playing—hardly
her bailiwick. Dancing with this cowpoke would prove a
challenge. But Cowboy new how to lead, and guided her through
several complicated moves she’d never have guessed
she could follow. By the time the song ended she was actually
getting the hang of it. “Thank you, Cowboy. That was fun.”



The music changed, slowing way down. “Let’s do one
more then, ” he said, pulling her to him, cuddling her
close.


Standing more than a foot taller than her meant her head
was belly-button high on him. She wrapped her arms around
the small of his back, amazed by how taut his muscles were.
Cowboy was lean and fit. She leaned her head against what
was almost assuredly a set of six-pack abs.


Feeling something poking her chest, she glanced down—and
choked back a grin. Cowboy’s tummy wasn’t the only
thing about him that was firm. Judging from that bulge,
he was enjoying their dance even more than she was. Her heart
raced. ‘God! I’ve given him an erection. When was the
last time that happened with someone other than my husband?’
Feeling absolutely naughty, she pressed her boob into
it, trying to envision what the dong of a man his size might
look like.


He immediately looked down. God! He knows what I just did,
making it clear that both of them knew he was sporting an
erection. Oh well. She looked up, grinning. “I bet right
about now you’re wishing I was a few inches shorter and
that my head was flat enough to rest a beer on.” It was an
old saw, but being as short as she was, one she’d heard
many times—and always found funny.


Her wisecrack drew its intended guffaw. “It’s that
obvious, huh? Sorry, Missy, but sometimes there’s just
nothing a man can do about such things.”


She felt her cheeks flush. “Oh God, now I’ve embarrassed
you. I’m sorry—think of it as a bad attempt at humor.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I even said that.
I’ve definitely had too much to drink.”


“Hey, relax. There ain’t no harm in speaking the truth, ”
he said, pulling her even tighter.


She leaned her weight into it, peeking around to see if anyone
had seen her do it, feeling scrumptiously wicked. The fact
that only the thin material of her blouse and bra, along
with whatever he was wearing, separated her tit the man’s
swollen erection had her nipples tingling, particularly
the one touching his cock. Keeping her tit tightly against
it, she spent the rest of the song imagining what it would
be like if the two of them were dancing together naked.


The song ended and Cowboy escorted her back to their table
and pulled out her chair. She, however, was still feeling
flush and horny. Declining the offer, she looked first
at one, then the other, “Why don’t we go have that toke?”



‘What have I set in motion?’ she asked herself as they
rode up the elevator. She took a deep breath. Going to their
room to share a joint was playing with fire, but she wasn’t
particularly worried—she knew she was more than capable
of handling any situation that might arise.


Their room was comprised of a single chair in front of a dressing
table and two queen beds. “Where would milady like to
sit?” Billy asked with a dramatic bow and a sweeping hand
gesture.


“Given the plethora of choices, the lady chooses…”
she plopped down on the bed, “…here!”


While Billy fixed drinks, Cowboy retrieved his stash.
Soon the three of them were sitting side-by-side on the
bed, her in the middle, each with a drink in their hand. Taking
out his lighter, Cowboy lit the joint, took a hit, and handed
it to Angie.


Not wanting to appear to be a bumpkin, she took as big a hit
as he had. Her lungs lasted only seconds before expelling
their contents halfway across the room. “How potent
is this, anyway?” she asked through her coughing fits,
feeling every bit the bumpkin she’d just tried so hard
not to be.


“The best Oregon has to sell, ” Cowboy answered with
a grin. Recreational pot was now legal in Oregon and Washington,
but not here in L.A. “Its label boasts that it’s guaranteed
to stimulate the senses.”


Stimulate the senses! Weren’t those the very words Tommy
Mills had told her when he’d first introduced her to pot
in the backseat of his Ford. “Listen to the music, ”
he’d told her as the radio blared away. “Ever hear those
background instruments before?” She hadn’t. “Taste
this, ” he said, opening a candy bar and breaking off
a piece. She agreed chocolate had never tasted better.
“Now feel how soft my lips are, ” he said, pulling her
into a kiss.


God how she loved to kiss—and true to Tommy’s word,
this one seemed to surpass all of its predecessors—at
least it seemed that way in her current state of mind. As
did the hand groping her blouse, especially when it worked
its way inside of her brazier. Minutes later she was naked
from the waist up, and with her senses on overload, squirming
on the finger Tommy had in her wormed up her love canal, the
one that would soon make her explode. It was the first time
she’d ever let a boy get her off.


“Oh Tommy, that was wonderful, ” she gushed afterwards.
“You were right; pot does stimulate the senses.” Chewing
her lip, she gave him a pitying look, “But only mine, not
yours. I feel guilty.”


“Don’t be, ” he said, placing her hand on his crotch.



“What are you suggesting?” she teased, a twinkle in
her eye.


“Use your imagination.”


“Be forewarned, ” she said, reaching for his belt.
“have an extremely active imagination.”


“Prove it!”


Buckle undone, she went after his zipper, her fingers trembling
so badly she could hardly pull it down. Save for the little
boys she babysat for, Tommy’s would be the first cock
she’d actually seen or touched, which in her foggy state,
sounded like a fantastic idea. “Lift, ” she said,
tugging on his jeans.


With his hips raised, she was able to ease down his pants,
underwear and all. She pulled them down as slowly as possible,
hoping to build up his anticipation. Done, she looked at
what she’d unveiled. Wow! His cock was way bigger than
what those little boys had. She wrapped her fingers around
it and slid her hand up and down his length, amazed at how
hard and hot it was. Her other hand cupped his balls. Holding
him like this had her feeling all funny inside—and it
was a very, very nice kind of funny.


Sliding to her knees, she positioned herself between his
legs, still stroking his cock. “What I’m imagining
right now…” she said, leaning forward, looking him
in the eye, “…is this.” Extending her tongue, she
licked his crown, circling its surface the way the women
in the dirty movies always did. “You like?” she asked,
probing the slit at the center.


“Fuck yea, I like, ” came his hoarse response.


“Good.” Turning her head sideways, gently biting
his girth, she working her way down toward his sac. “Does
that hurt?”


“Are you kidding? It feels fantastic!” he blurted.



“Which do you like best? What is it you want me to do?”



“This, ” he said, placing a hand on the back of her head,
pulling her face to his cock. Parking it between her lips,
he pressed forward, and his cock slid into her mouth.


It didn’t require a rocket scientist to know what she
was supposed to do next. Bobbing her head, she rode his cock.
Things had somehow gone farther than what she had in mind;
but now that she had Tommy’s cock in her mouth, arousing
his lust, she was glad they had. Here she was sucking his
cock—giving her first ever blow job. She hoped he liked,
because doing it for him was making her horny as hell, very
nearly as aroused as she’d been earlier when he’d gotten
her off.


Tommy was clearly into it as much as she was, pumping up to
greet her every downward plunge. Deeper and deeper she
took him, bound and determined to take him in his entirety.
She purred when she finally accomplished that task. She
held him there, feeling him twitch, knowing what was about
to come—cum—but not caring in the least. After all,
he’d gotten her off—returning the favor was the least
she could do. The following weekend Tommy took her virginity.



Angie’s reverie ended, bringing her back to the present.
Why on earth was she reminiscing about blow jobs? Did she
think that was what Billy and Cowboy had in mind, or was it
simply because she was horny?


“Here, ” Billy said, handing her back the joint after
taking a hit. “I think you lost most of that last one.”



She took another hit, which resulted in a similar coughing
jag. But what he said had to be wrong. If it was true that she’d
lost most of the previous hit, why was her head spinning
so? How strong was this stuff anyway?


“Here, take a sip of this, ” Cowboy said, handing her
his drink, “it’ll soothe your throat.”


Fighting her dizziness, she reached for the glass. Missing
her grip, she spilled its contents on Cowboy’s shirt.
“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m such a klutz.”


“Not to worry, it won’t stain, ” he said, peeling
off his shirt.


Her eyes flared. Yummy! She had the right of it back on the
dance floor—Cowboy was totally ripped. Her gaze drifted
lower, eying the other body part that had occupied her thoughts
while they were dancing.


“I know a way you can take a hit without burning your lungs, ”
he offered.


“How?” she asked, tearing her eyes from his crotch.



“Like this.” Taking another hit, Cowboy held it in
his lungs. Then, pulling her lips to his, he released the
smoke into her mouth.


He was right; taking a hit this way didn’t hurt her lungs,
but with their tongues dueling the way they were, that was
hardly her focus. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she
ground her mouth into his, their lip-lock exchanging far
more saliva than smoke. She’d forgotten how great it
was to kiss a guy for the first time.


When the kiss ended, she dragged her fingernails down his
bare flesh, her gaze following their path. Down, over his
chest and rippling tummy muscles, stopping at his belt
because something was blocking her path. She smirked—she’d
made him hard again. “Does this mean you like me?” she
asked, dragging a nail along its length.


“That it does, sweetheart. That it does, ” he said,
pulling her into another kiss. A tiny alarm went off deep
within her; warning that things were getting out of control.
Choosing to ignore that warning, she leaned into the kiss.
It wasn’t until the kiss ended that she realized she’d
been rubbing his cock the entire time.


She jerked her hand away. Good God, I’m married—what
am I doing! She shook her head, hardly believing what she’d
done. “Oh God! This is so embarrassing, ” she said,
burying her face in her hands. She looked up at Cowboy, “I’m
so sorry.”


“I’m not, ” Cowboy said, “not in the least, ”
he added, pulling down his zipper.


“What are you…” Her sentence died unfinished. Cowboy’s
cock had expanded to the point that it almost reached his
belt. Her breath caught. No one was THAT hung. Unable to
resist his offer, she slipped her hand inside his fly, seeking
bare flesh. OMG, he is that hung she thought, finding it.
She looked up. “I have to see this thing.”


Undoing his snap, she parted his pants. He was wearing boxers,
not briefs. Reaching in, she wrapped her fingers around
his erection—barely. She pulled it out and started stroking
it—her hormones raging. “Good God, Cowboy, where
you sired by a bull?”


“No ma’am—and that’s no bull, ” he said, seeming
pleased with his clever wordplay. “You should now, however,
that where I come, when a lady plays with a man’s cock,
good etiquette requires that she kiss him.”


She ran her hand up and down his shaft, caressing it so gently
she was barely touching it. “I can do that, ” she said,
stretching up to kiss him. Without the pretense of exchanging
smoke, coupled with the fact she was stroking his cock,
made this the best one yet.


“That was a lovely kiss, Missy, ” he said when she was
done, “but the kiss wasn’t where it was supposed would
be.”


He wants me to kiss his cock! She eyed it, contemplating.
Why not? It wasn’t as if things weren’t already out
of control. Bending down, she kissed—and licked—and
chewed it, marveling at the size of his gargantuan tool.



“Hey!” Billy chimed in, “I could do with that kind
of kiss.”


She turned, looking him over. He was every bit as fit as Cowboy
and better looking to boot. If she was going to transgress,
she couldn’t have picked two better partners with whom
to do it. Since things had already gone too far—why not
go for the whole enchilada?


She furrowed her brow with false concern. “But you still
have your clothes on.”


“Not for long!”


While Billy removed his shirt, she went after what interested
her most. She jerked open his pants. Briefs, not boxers.
His cock popped out as she jerked them down. She looked up,
wrinkling her nose. “Mm-m, way better, ” she hummed,
as she bent down to give him the promised kiss.


Fingers and tongue exploring, she traversed his length.
He wasn’t as endowed as Cowboy, but then, who was? But
his cock was just as hot and every bit as hard. Here she was,
kissing and fondling her second one in less than a minute,
wondering if it were possible to be any hornier. Moaning,
she wrapped her lips around his cock and took him into her
mouth.


“It hardly seems fair that you’re still dressed, ”
Cowboy said, unbuttoning the back of her blouse. “Raise
your hands, Missy, ” he said, lifting her off Billy’s
cock.


As soon as it cleared her hands she reached back; unfastened
her bra; and tossed it across the room. Turning so both of
them could see, she arched her chest forward, caressing
her titties. “Do you like?” she asked with a sexy pout.



“Like, hell, I love ‘em!” Cowboy lauded, taking
one into his mouth.


“How about two mouths at once?” Billy suggested, dragging
her to the center of the bed. Laying her on her back, they
dove in, each devouring a tit.


“Oh God, yes! Bite them! Bite them hard!” Angie begged
as she lay there, eyes closed, squirming under their twin
assault. Fingers found the snap on her skirt. Once it and
her zipper were undone, they went after skirt and thong.
She lifted her hips, helping them strip her; wanting them
to see her naked; to observe firsthand how ready she was.



Hearing the rustle of clothing, she opened her eyes. They
were stripping—getting ready to fuck her. Fuck me! Dare
I let them? Hell, am I even up to stopping them, or do they
have me well past the point of telling them no?’


“That’s one fine looking pussy you have there, Missy, ”
Cowboy said, taking in her nakedness.


“Thank you, ” she said, for want of any clever retort.



“I hope it tastes as good as it looks, ” Billy chimed
in, lowering his mouth to her crotch.


He’d hardly touched her there before her pussy exploded,
her fastest climax ever. “Oh God oh God oh God!” she
yelped, her torso vibrating. Her thrashing only worsened
when his finger slid into her pussy, pumping in and out,
making obscene, squishing sounds.


“Hold her still, Cowboy.”


“Open Sesame.”


Her eyes popped open to discover Cowboy’s cock hovering
above her face. “Billy says to hold you still, ” he
said, rubbing the tip of his penis across her lips. “And
what better way to do it than this?”


That was fine with her. Grabbing him by his ass cheeks, she
pulled him over on top of her, wanting him to ravish her mouth—to
abuse it with his cudgel, not giving a whit about any discomfort
it might cause. After all, this was her night on the town—her
chance she’d to misbehave without husband or friends
any the wiser.


Having a cock in her mouth and a mouth on her pussy quickly
became too much to bear. Pushing Cowboy off of her she cried,
“You did it! I’m there again!”


Grabbing Billy by the back of the head, she loosed a keening
wail she could hardly believe came from her. She looked
up at Cowboy as she came, the two of them staring into one
another’s eyes while she orgasmed. It was the most sensuous
thing she’d ever experienced.


“Angie, if you ain’t the tiniest, sexist thing ever, ”
he said once she calmed. “Why, I bet a fella could just
lift you up, ” he said, hoisting her by the hips, “and
set you back down pretty near anywhere he wanted.”


He lowered her to the point that her love hole hovered just
above his cock. “Cowboy, no! We can’t, ” she pleaded.
“I’m married!”


“A married woman who moments ago was sucking my cock, ”
he said, lowering her onto his pole.


She was so wet from her climax that her flower offered no
resistance, easily granting him entrance. “Cowboy,
no-o-o, ” she whimpered as she felt him sliding into
her. “We can’t, ” she whispered as his gigantic
cock eased its way up her vagina, titillating nerve endings
she never knew existed. “No more Cowboy; no more!”
she gasped. “You’re too big.”


Ignoring her pleas, he held her there, panting above him,
as impossibly, even more of him slid into her. Was there
no end to that thing? Finally, he’d lowered her far enough
that her thighs were touching flesh. She’d done it; she’d
taken in that monster cock. Never had she felt so filled.
Resting her weight on her knees, she rose an inch or so, delighting
in the friction it created. She sank back down. Ecstasy.
She rose; then sank; and rose and sank, the feeling getting
better and better. “Oh God, Cowboy, do it! Fuck me! Fuck
me ‘til I beg you to stop, and then fuck me some more.”



Leaning down to capture his mouth with hers, she crushed
her titties into his hard pectorals and let her inhibitions
go. She’d worded things backwards, however—it was
her fucking him, not the other way around. Eyes closed,
she rode his erection, marveling at how impossibly good
it felt.


Lost in her euphoria, it was a shock to realize something
else had entered her too. Her eyes popped open. Twisting
around, she spied Billy kneeling behind her, pressing
his cock into her anus. “Billy!” she screeched, “What
are you doing?”


“I should think it obvious, ” he said with a grin. “I’m
fucking that sweet little ass of yours.”


“No!” she objected. “You can’t!”


“That’s what you told Cowboy too, and look at the two
of you now, ” he said, pushing himself farther in.


He was doing it—despite her objections! She groaned
as he sank even deeper, crying out at the indignity at having
two men fuck her at once.


“Am I hurting you?” he asked sounding genuinely concerned,
making no attempt to enter further.


“I…, ” resting on her arms, she tried to gather her
wits. “Not exactly.” Unable to ignore what was parked
in her pussy—and now her nether hole too, she rocked backwards,
forcing more of him in. Having him in there was starting
to feel good—very good indeed.


“Not exactly? What does that mean?”


“I don’t know!” she whimpered. “You two have me
so confused I can’t even think.”


“Try thinking about this then.”


Grabbing her by the hips, he thrust his cock the rest of the
way in. Crying out, she pushed back to greet his lunge, as
she did with every thrust he made after that.


What transpired after that remained somewhat of a blur.
At least that was her assessment sitting cold sober in the
airport the following day, awaiting her departure. The
phrases ‘do me’ and ‘fuck me you bastards’ came
to mind, but whether she’d spoken them aloud or merely
thought them was pure conjecture. The only thing she remembered
for sure was that she’d let two men use her as their pleasure
doll well into the night—and that she’d experienced
innumerable orgasms for having done so.


She’d awakened this morning in Cowboy’s bed, the two
of them still naked, her head resting on his shoulder. She
remembered her sense of panic when she saw the clock—she
had just over two hours to gather her things and make her
flight home.


Carefully extracting herself out from under his arm, she
scoured the room for her clothing. She took one last peek
at Cowboy’s cock. Even limp his size was impressive.
Unable to resist the urge, she leaned down and kissed it.
It stirred. Remembering the intense pleasure it had given
her, it took all of her willpower to abandon it—but she
daren’t miss her plane.


After dressing she gave the place a final once-over. Billy
was asleep in the second bed. What the hell. She went over
and kissed his cock goodbye too. Unlike with Cowboy, she
got no response. She couldn’t have that! She dragged
her tongue along its length until it stirred too. Good!
She hadn’t lost her touch.


Quelling her desire to stay, she walked over to the door.
She paused, taking one last peek at her naked, sleeping
lovers, knowing it would be the last time she’d ever lay
eyes on them. She sighed. It was late, and she needed to get
to her own hotel, gather her belongings, and get to the airport.
Stepping into the hall, she closed the door behind her.



Fortunately, she’d packed the night before, and foregoing
changing her clothes allowed her to get to the airport barely
on time. She checked her purse for her ticket. Gads! There
was the joint Cowboy had given her. How had it gotten past
her security check? “This one’s for you and your hubby, ”
Cowboy had said when he gave it to her, “as payback for
the loan of his woman.” The clear implication was that
she should get her spouse stoned and have ‘sense-stimulated’
sex with him—an idea she found appealing.


Hiding the joint in with her makeup, she took out her phone
and dialed her husband. “Hi Honey, ” she greeted.
Chit-chat about the conference ensued. “Yes, I’m
glad I came—I enjoyed it immensely, ” she said, biting
her cheeks at her double entendre. “Which reminds me;
I have a surprise for you when I get home. Two of them actually.
I bought myself a new outfit—a rather sexy one I think
you’ll like. I’m wearing it now.”


“The other one? I met this person at the conference—the
hippy sort. She gave me a joint.” She felt a pang of guilt
over lying about Cowboy’s gender. “If you really like
my outfit, maybe we could light up once we get home, and well…
you know.”


“I thought so, ” she said, laughing.


The loudspeaker blared. “Southwest flight 701 to San
Jose and San Francisco now boarding.”


“They just announced my flight. Got to go.”


Smiling, she closed her phone. It had been well past midnight
when Cowboy and Billy finally fucked her. If she did it with
her husband before that same hour she would have had sex
with three different men in a 24-hour period. She smiled.
The conference speaker had admonished them to “...make
your goals small, achievable ones, and you’ll be happy.”
Doing three guys in one day seemed not only doable, but a
desirable as well—and there was absolutely no doubt
that achieving such a goal would make her happy. Besides,
when would she ever have the chance to do it again.


Grinning, she headed for the boarding area.



Hope you enjoy my erotic fantasies. I welcome all comments, good or bad, and why.

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I enjoyed your story very much and think you should write a sequel for the lady when she got back home with her hubby....Keep writing and Thank You

4/24/2016

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This is a very well written story of one Hot threesome and one very Sexy Lady. Great writing....

4/25/2016

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Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it.



Hope you enjoy my erotic fantasies. I welcome all comments, good or bad, and why.

4/25/2016

Members can vote on this response!

Great reading, but I think you left a little "cut and paste" from one of your other stories in the middle

12/18/2016