Getaway to the Spa – Part 1
My name is Diana. My husband, Brian, and I have been married for nearly 20 years – getting hitched a month after college graduation. We weren’t your stereotypical “fell in love and lost our virginity couple.” We met our senior year after years of playing the field and living the most sexually adventurous lives. We clicked right away and left no classroom building or landscaping feature of campus unexplored, so to speak. We fucked all over campus in every way imaginable. But those stories are for another day.
He majored in Chemical Engineering and I majored in Marketing. Good jobs were waiting for us after graduation and then two kids came along pretty quickly. On some advice from my mother, of all people, we always made time for each other. It would horrify my poor mother if she found out that we have kept our sex life spiced up with overnight and weekend getaways, some playful BDSM, and sojourns in to swinging. Those stories are for another day, too.
Most of our swing play was MFM that Brian would arrange as he loves it when I cum. He says it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever experienced. Who am I to doubt his word? He is by nature a generous person and that flows over to him being such a generous lover. He is constantly trying to get me to play the hotwife and have fun without him, but I never had the nerve: safety was one concern and worry over how he would truly feel afterward was the other.
We both stay in good shape as we were DII athletes in college – he played point guard and I was a libero on the volleyball team. Brian runs and lifts, I indulge in yoga, and we both adventure outdoors for kayaking, hiking, and backpacking. I’m 5’2” and 107 pounds with a great 34C rack and legs to die for. Brian has a mad foot fetish and will spend hours making me cum from worshipping my size 5 ½ feet alone, although my neck is the direct path to my clit. Brian is 6’1” and 175 pounds with a tiny 28” waist and a slender 9 ½” cock that never seems to quit.
My work schedule had gotten crazy and my 40th birthday was quickly approaching, so Brian bought me a long weekend getaway at a hotel/spa/convention center out of town so I couldn’t be distracted by the responsibilities of home life. Truth be told, I was dreading this trip. Well, maybe not dreading it, but I was at the very least ambiguous about leaving home for this long. It was usually my husband who went on business trips while I held down the fort. I knew that I would miss him and the kids, but when I first had the opportunity to stay at a spa and pamper myself, it sounded great, so I said ‘yes’.
But then, a couple of weeks before I was supposed to leave, the kids got the flu and then my husband did, too. We had spent most of the last ten days dealing with sniffles and sneezes. And not much sex. The throbbing in my pussy would get nearly unbearable at times. I need sex pretty much daily. Need it. I would sit at stop lights in my car and try to wriggle enough to press the seam of my jeans onto my aching clit. I needed head, I needed dick, and I hadn’t gotten much of either lately.
So when I got to the airport and found that my flight had been delayed I was tempted just to head home and deal with my responsibilities, and maybe, just maybe, if Brian got well soon enough, I could get enough. I called my husband to let him know that I was on my way back home. Brian told me to stay the course. So I sat down to read a bit. That’s when Devon happened by.
He was dressed for business in a nice suit, jacket slung over one shoulder, the arm holding it bulging against the tailored shirt. He was fit and loaded. In more ways than one. I caught myself checking out his package, which nicely filled the front of his pleated trousers. I was embarrassed at myself for even checking him out and more so for noticing the outline of the head of his cock. He was nicely hung. And I was far hornier than I ought to be. Especially with Brian at home and my nasty thoughts here with this stranger.
I had let Brian help dress me before I left and I was now regretting it. I was wearing a black, flowing nearly sheer crepe skirt and a form fitting silk top, braless. The good news was the top nicely framed my breasts, showing just the right amount of cleavage, and showing off my awesome back muscles. The bad news was that I felt the skirt and top combined to make my ass bulge out in the back enough to make me look frumpy. Brian said I looked sexy, but I couldn’t trust him – he thinks I look sexy in burlap sack. He told me that I looked hot: hot enough to get laid at the airport. I laughed it off like I always do, and then he added his signature tag line, “Well, if you do, just let me know – and try to get pictures!”
Right now I wished I looked a little bit hotter so this guy would notice me. He was about 10 years younger than me and I could use an ego boost about now. I couldn’t help but think that the whole reason for pleated pants was to give a little more room in the crotch. As he turned to sit down across from me, I couldn’t help but notice how nicely his ass filled those trousers, too. His butt had those cute little indentations on the side. His ass was tight and for a moment I could see those cheeks tighten with every thrust… Boy, I was getting wet.
Then I noticed his hands. Long, full fingers, strong, but smooth. For a moment I could feel them on my hips drawing him into me…”What was I thinking?!” This behavior was so out of character for me! I was thinking like a slut without my husband present and gushing fluids like a juicer! I had to get a grip. Then the stranger turned to me and spoke, “This wait is a pain, but what are you going to do?” He laughed and then settled in to get comfortable. His eyes were a deep, iridescent green framed with lashes like a camel’s. I smiled back, peering deeply into those emerald orbs, and pouring myself into his soul. He smiled, extended his hand, and said, “Devon, and you are..?”
Almost too entranced to speak, I just reveled in the gentle grip – I was right, that hand would feel exquisite on my hips… “Diana. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Are you on business?” What a stupid question! What was I thinking and why was I trying to have a conversation with this guy? I had reading to do, I had music on my phone, and a husband at home. But Devon’s full, red, juicy lips replied, “Business, unfortunately, and now I’m going to arrive so late tonight, tomorrow’s gonna be a tough day.” I remained held in the trance by the movement of his lips, catching a glimpse of his tongue moving so gracefully in his mouth. It was pink and narrow at the tip, just like his cock…. Okay, time to step out and get a hold of myself!!
I shook my head and excused myself. As I stood up I got self conscious. I thought to myself, “ I really wish I had worn something that showed off my figure more. I work hard to take care of this body.” For some reason unknown to me I really wanted the pleasure of feeling his eyes burning sexually on my body. Then I turned and caught him checking me out. He had a sly look that bespoke of dirty thoughts – and that felt nice. I was still self-conscious about how I looked, but that look of his did feel good. My pussy was dripping wet and I could feel my sex on my thighs. Thank goodness I was wearing a flowing skirt! Devon called out to me, “Diana, I’ll watch your things for you.” His eyes went from my eyes, to my tits, to my ass, to my carry-on. I said, “Thank you for that”.
“My pleasure.”
‘Oh yes, his pleasure. I would love some of that.’, I thought. Oh my gosh! I was acting and thinking like a school girl in heat. I’m married, I have children, and I am flirting with a stranger in an airport! Time to take a walk and cool off!
I headed to the bathroom. Stepping into the stall, I pulled down my skirt and panties. I could not help but notice that my panties were absolutely soaked! I don’t think I had never been this wet before and there was no way those panties were going back on me for a while. I wrapped them in tissue to help them dry and stuffed them in my purse. I decided that I’d better take care of things, so I slid my skirt off and hung it on the back of the stall door. I slipped my sandals off, sat down, placed my feet on the door, and spread my legs. As I closed my eyes, I found my left hand wander onto my belly, gently massaging my wanton flesh, slowly gliding up to my breast. I cupped my right breast in my hand as my right hand slid down my waist to my clit. My middle finger easily found my swollen nub and I pressed down on it as my index and ring fingers gently squeezed it from the sides. I shuddered with pleasure. This would not take very long.
I envisioned Devon’s gentle hand on my breast, tweaking the nipple, gently twisting and pinching it. I tried to put Brian in my mind, but Devon kept showing up, so I just let it happen. I figured that the sooner I got him out of my system the better. So, soon it was Devon rolling his tongue on my swollen, pulsing clit, not my fingers. It was his tongue sucking my clit between those lips, not my fingers gently tugging upward before my finger rotated down. I could feel the burning building within me, that electric feeling that makes my legs tighten and my back arch. I took my whole forearm to grasp my entire breast, my lips pursed, my tongue ached, and I felt the spasms start. They flowed through my back, out my legs, up to my chest and then out through my abdomen and clit. I exploded with a powerful orgasm that left me shaking, rattling the stall door. Embarrassed and exhausted, I remained in the stall, letting my tired legs slide down the door to the floor, easing my head against the wall.
After masturbating in the bathroom of the airport while fantasizing about this stranger, Devon, I tried to regain my composure, rising to a shaky stand on my drained legs. Standing in the stall naked from the neck down I was totally embarrassed by my lack of self control. My pussy and legs were drenched with my sex and I realized that I must look a mess. At that moment I remembered my promise to Brian, so I took out my cell phone and snapped him a picture of my dripping vagina with the caption “Priming My Pussy for an Airport Stud”. I hit send and then quickly turned off the phone. “That should give him a grand jacking off,” I thought. Oh, how I loved to watch him jack off. The thought of the square head of his cock sliding slowly in out of its trimmed foreskin, precum oozing out the tip. How I loved to take my tongue and draw the precum from that head, sucking it into my mouth, and then slide the entire length of his shaft into my mouth, across my tongue, and down my throat in hopes of a creamy, sweet and salty treat…
Okay, time to get my thoughts back on track of something besides sex. I slipped my top down and pulled my skirt up after I cleaned up a bit. Sliding into my sandals I headed to the mirror. “What a mess!” I thought. I looked like I’d just gotten laid by the whole team. “It was one hell of an orgasm, but not quite like the ones that Devon could really give me. Damn! There I go again!” I was silly out of control. I made the decision then and there to act like an in-control grown up, not a sex-crazed teen. I brushed my hair, looking into the mirror with the nastiest Dragon Lady expression I could muster. I tried to get my nipples to calm down. They had been hard before, pressing against the thin fabric with no bra to pad their condition. Now, the areola was fully engorged with heat and there was nothing I could do but wait.
Grabbing my purse, I headed to Starbucks for a coffee and something sweet. “Okay, not sweet – that will probably just get me riled up again,” I thought. So a plain bagel it was. I headed back to my seat, a little embarrassed, a little drained, and a little curious to see what my reception would be. Devon was glad to have me back. I was smiling and he was smiling, peering into my eyes almost as if he knew what I’d been up to. “Plain bagel?” he asked.
“Yeah, can’t afford the calories.”
“It pays off. What do you do stay in such terrific shape?”
He just won major points with me: credit for noticing that I worked out and credit for telling me that it paid off. “Yoga.”
“Wow. Yoga. I never thought something like yoga could produce such great results. You look fantastic. Great muscle definition.”
“Thank you.” Now that was amazing. Brian’s been working for years to get me to say ‘thank you’ instead of pointing out one of my forty-year-old flaws. It finally paid off and he’s not here to witness it! I laughed at myself for the thought and the Devon brought me right back to him. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you by noticing. Please forgive my forwardness.”
“It’s quite all right. I appreciate that my hard work is paying off. You obviously stay fit as well.”
Now I’m flirting back! So much for my Dragon Lady glare. He was clearly staring at my neck as it flushed, which made it flush more. My neck is my weak spot and it likes to advertise that. Brian found that out our first night together and if I don’t get a grip, Devon will figure it out, too.
“I run three days a week and play lots of lots of tennis, thank you.”
I curled my legs up in the seat and pulled some work out of my carry-on. I had brought some reading for work with me and this was a perfect opportunity to get something done as well as get my mind together. Maybe if I ignored him, this whole thing in my mind would just go away.
Devon rose to get some coffee as well and I could clearly tell that I was on his mind. And that he wore briefs, not boxers. His hard-on was growing nicely, squaring out the front of his pants (with boxers, the cock stands more straight out or straight down, you know). It was as long or longer than Brian’s but perhaps slimmer, with that cute little pointed head. I’d never sucked on a cock like that before. I wondered what that head would feel like under my tongue or sliding down my throat. Would his cum be more salty or more sweet… There I was going again! What in the world was the matter with me? I thought about calling Brian to have some phone sex to get this out of my system, but I was afraid that I might call out Devon’s name. I dove deep into my reading and quickly became bored and engaged in that dribble. Devon returned, but I did little to notice him, except to see that the squared bulge was gone. I wonder if he stopped off at the bathroom…?
After a couple of hours of reading and periodically shifting my position, the announcer let us know that the flight would be delayed a bit longer. I had been sitting there trying to get comfortable, trying to ignore the want in my pussy, and trying to ignore the man just three feet away. He was busy on his phone dealing with the business of the day or on his laptop preparing for his presentation at a meeting tomorrow at a convention center. My reading approach had worked for the most part to divert my attention from Devon, but I was tired, horny, embarrassed, fed-up, wet, and ready to get in the air. Devon rose, and stretched, rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie, and generally, looked ready to get comfortable. “Diana, how about some dinner?” I had left home after breakfast, arrived at the airport an hour later, stood through line after line for two hours, waited for an hour at the gate before being told my flight was delayed. I now had been reading for two hours. I couldn’t believe it was dinner time. I looked out the window and it was nearly dark. “Wonderful. Where do you want to go?”
“My hotel, but how is Houlihan’s?”
“Great” All these superlatives. So flirtatious. Even after his hotel reference! We gathered our things and headed down the concourse to Houlihan’s. He ordered us martinis (How did he know? Did Brian set me up?) and we engaged in light conversation about what we did for a living. He was fascinated with my marketing work in the arts and I was intrigued by his brilliance in business where he served as a corporate analyst, helping companies increase their productivity and market. It was obvious from his clothing, watch, and tasteful jewelry that he was very successful. He was also modest. And well-hung. And well skilled in the mouth. The more he talked, the more I was mesmerized by his mouth. I longed for him to kiss me and taste his tongue. I longed for his tongue to caress my neck, down to my breasts, roll down my belly, across my thighs, and delve onto my clit. I was getting soaked again. I had long before neglected to notice what he was saying.
He smiled and asked me if I was okay. I faintly said, “Yeah, just tired, I guess. Sorry if I spaced out. You are a fascinating person. Very kind and gentile.” Now that was flirtatious! I was letting my clit get the best of me. With that comment, he rose and excused himself, clearly erect again. I looked down in my martini glass to notice that I had sucked the pimento out of my olives without eating the olives themselves. What was I doing? Why was he turning me on so much? I pulled out my cell phone, snapped a picture of me holding an olive between my lips, and sent it off to Brian with the caption “Sucking on a Juicy One”. I figured the best thing to do was go with it, turn this into a game, and then bang the hell out of my husband upon my return.
Devon returned to the table, still clearly boasting an erection, and that got my juices flowing even more. “I’m sure he can smell me,” I thought. Our eyes locked for a moment before he pulled out his seat. Just then, the announcement came on that our flight would be boarding momentarily. “Thank goodness!” I thought. I’d get on the plane, sit next to some old couple and get my mind back where it belongs. Still, it had been fun. I hadn’t flirted like this since college and I had never felt this sexual with a stranger in my life, even when having an MFM threesome. “Let’s keep it for pillow talk – good for some major head at home,” I said to myself as we gathered our things and headed for the gate.
