This is part one of a story about a happily married wife who slowly discovers how much more there is to sex and arousal. This story has a slow build up, and is only the beginning of her long journey.
Six weeks was all it took! Not that she considered herself a finished product, but glancing in the restroom mirror while re-applying a little lipstick Camille couldn't help but be pleased with the results of her exercise routine over the last month and a half. Popping the lid back onto the gloss, she twisted left then right, letting her gaze take in her shapely hips, firm buttocks, and well-proportioned chest until her eyes met her own, and the confident hint of a smile now beneath them.
She found the woman she was scrutinizing to be pretty darn attractive for forty-six, and she was delighted with how she looked and felt in her dress: a silky thin, spaghetti strapped number that hugged her hips and butt before flowing easily and loosely down to just above her knees. The décolletage was accented with longer straps and a slight curvature providing an inviting view of her bosom while maintaining the class Camille would demand of any wardrobe selection. She looked good, and that made her feel good. Dave thought she looked great, and that made her feel heavenly.
Heavenly and naughty. Camille was working with a healthy level of arousal all evening. Between her husband's soft and hauntingly suggestive whispers in her ear, and the hand that spent the better portion of dinner tracing her knee and caressing her thigh, she was looking forward to the moment when the key would disengage their hotel room door.
She and David enjoyed what she thought to be an excellent sex life. A private person, with a principled foundation, Camille's sexual thoughts almost always focused on David. Oh sure, there was the occasional masturbation after watching a steamy movie or reading a particularly erotic chapter in a book, but her sexual energy was mostly saved for the love of her life. However, any creative eroticism for the couple fell solely on David's shoulders – like tonight, for instance. David had convinced her, after some sensuous kissing to her nape while getting ready this afternoon, to attend this brouhaha sans panties. He reasoned that here they were, at a boring but obligatory business banquet 2,000 miles from home, with 1500 associates whom he never met before and would never see again, so why not add a little spark? Besides, he grinningly explained, she wouldn't have to worry about panty lines. Her dress was plenty long, and her bare bottom would keep their thoughts throughout the evening appetizingly on each other.
Camille knew by the horniness and tingling she'd felt all night that David, as usual, had been right. Glancing once more at the mirror as she set the lipstick back in her purse she closed her eyes and stole a deep breath. She imagined David standing behind her in the hotel room, softly and carefully pushing her spaghetti straps off her shoulders, letting his hands follow them slowly down her arms until his fingers grazed her nipples. She sighed and smiled inwardly, realizing that in addition to having one too many Cosmopolitans, her erogenous zones were communicating to her that it was time to grab David, make haste, and head back to their hotel.
They walked with their arms locked together to the foyer of the moneyed, west coast country club where David slipped the valet a ticket to retrieve their rental car. He wandered over to an unused hallway, admiring the artwork adorning the walls, and beckoned Camille to come over and join him. Camille was wondering what he was doing as he began muttering about this or that artist, brushstrokes, composition, and other artistic matters of which Camille knew David didn't know the first thing. She quickly found out after following David as he calmly ambled farther down the deserted hallway. David reached behind her, turning her so that his back was to the foyer and hers towards the far end of the empty hallway, and pulled her in close for a deep, long kiss. Her senses exploded as their lips met and their tongues took turns exploring the other. David's hands slid down to cup her ass before returning to the small of her back. As they roamed down a second time she felt David's right hand drop even farther, then slowly climb her thigh, raising her dress and her excitement level with its ascent. David felt the soft skin of her thigh, and lightly traced all the way up until his fingertips brushed the outer folds of her bare womanhood sending a tingling shock through her core. In concert with Camille's barely audible moan, David gripped her ass – his left hand on her dress, and his right on her bare, exposed, left buttock. Their mouths parted, and with arms draped over David's neck and eyes staring deeply into his blue irises, Camille whispered "I need you in me." David smiled, relaxed his grip allowing her dress to fall back over her backside, took her hand and placed it against his groin so she could feel his growing penis, and laughed "definitely time to go."
**********
"The company is paying so why not?" David answered as they pulled away from the portico of the refined country club. Camille still wondered about the wisdom of renting a Mercedes SL550 Roadster. She worried how it looked for David and her to be cavorting about in such an expensive, sporty, 2-seat sports car.
"Look honey" David began, "the company doesn't care one bit about this. We're never going to be able to afford one so why not, just once, rent one? Just sit back and let's enjoy what this puppy can do." They had a healthy drive in front of them. Part of the panache of this affluent country club was that it was exceedingly private and remote. Ordinarily being forty miles away from civilization would be the kiss of death, but in this particular case it only added to the allure; an allure that David and Camille could do without. Of the 1,500 guests at tonight's function, a safe guess would place a minimum of 1490 staying on the property through the weekend. An invitation to this club was just as coveted as a weekend in the Lincoln Bedroom. That is, except for David and Camille. They wanted to be wherever the other 1498 people weren't. Ego stroking is not the stroking they envisioned. Just leave them undisturbed so they could suck, tease, nibble, and fuck however and whenever they wanted; weekends away were too precious to waste on glad-handing.
As they drove off into the night, trading glances, David began explaining what he was going to do to Camille at the hotel. Very softly he intoned that restraints, a blindfold, and feathers were involved. The journey was dark and desolate as they sped through the tree-lined road. As much as he was enjoying the handling, David was soon regretting this particular choice of rental. The high center console separating the bucket seats instantly became a major inconvenience as he couldn't see – let alone reach his hand onto – Camille's inviting thighs. Camille became equally frustrated. She had managed to twist her body and undo David's fly – finally giving some relief to his hours long hard-on. But because of the center console any chance of her being able to surround him with her lips, and tease him with her tongue would have to wait. She couldn't comfortably reach to take him in her hand either. David extended his arm, rubbed and lightly squeezed her breast, causing her spaghetti strap to drop over her arm, as it - much to her displeasure - had done many times through the evening.
"Masturbate for me sweetheart" David whispered just loudly enough to be heard over the purr of Mercedes' V8.
"David!"
"C'mon honey. I can't reach you. I won't even be able to see your hand, but I will be able to see your face. I want to think about your fingers rubbing your hardened clit, and glance over to see your eyes, face, and body respond to your touch. Do it, honey. Cum for me here so I dive this cock into your pussy the minute we get back."
The words, the passion, the cosmos...Camille needed no more coaxing as her hands easily slid her light, soft dress up her thighs. As her finger found her labia her wetness confirmed the arousal she already knew. Her juice was hot, and her slickened finger moved easily; slowly circling and massaging her already hard and pronounced clit. She quickly felt the familiar pleasures reverberate through her body's skin. Her head turned and relaxed on the headrest so that she could gaze at David and she mouthed the words "I love you". David looked at his wife, her cheeks reddening, her eyes shut, her mouth open, and watched as her right bicep methodically contracted ever so slightly, causing the soft, gelatinous tissue of her right breast to jiggle with every stroke. Left hand on the wheel, his right hand instinctively dropped to his waist, and, with his thumb on top and index finger beneath, began slowly tracing his fingers up and down the length of his six inches. Speeding around a corner, his index finger slid up over his cock's soft head to meet and spread the first drop of precum.
**********
"Shit" David suddenly exclaimed as he quickly began braking.
"Wha...oh my" Camille uttered as she snapped out of her amorous trance, thrust her right hand onto the dash to brace herself during the hard stop, and tried to focus on the road ahead.
David slid the stick to manual and downshifted, causing the engine to roar as the lower gear helped grip and slow the car. He quickly put the car as much off the shoulderless road as possible, and threw open the door to inspect the scene. A 7 series BMW had apparently lost control, spun, and skidded into a tree. Camille overcame the fear fluttering in her stomach, flung her door open and began running towards the Beamer. As she ran her boobs began fighting a battle with her dress that the delicate material would never win. Arriving on the scene of the accident, unbeknownst to Camille, her right breast had fully exited the dress using the fabric as a bustier of sorts.
David peered inside the car but no one was there. The damage was substantial, though not catastrophic. He saw no signs of blood, no torn clothing, or other signs of serious injury. Just as he was about to wander into the woods they heard a cheerful call from sixty to seventy yards up the road.
"My lucky day! I didn't think anyone would be coming down this road until morning" Seth Ducere shouted, without any hint of trauma in his voice. Walking briskly, briefcase in tow, he closed the distance fast. With David a half dozen paces behind her, Camille was steadily walking towards him, and as she got within 20 yards his handsome countenance and 6' 1" athletic body came into focus. This was not at all what she expected to see when they first stopped. Save for a slight bruise on his cheek, a rumpled suit coat, and dress chinos freshly torn at the knee, the strapping hunk of man looked like he just emerged from the August GQ cover.
A woman was emerging from the blur of darkness and Seth's attention was quickly drawn to a perfectly shaped breast gracefully rippling with each step she took. Entranced by the natural undulations that seemed to spiral around a taught, large, protruding nipple, Seth's thoughts were quickly shifting from relief to intrigue.
At five paces, his well-trained decorum restored, a relieved and natural smile easily spread as Seth held out his hand. "How do you do? Seth Ducere."
"Camille McKay" Camille replied, noticing this debonair stranger's eyes confidently and easily eying her body – particularly her chest – before casually extending his gaze over her shoulder to her arriving husband.
"And this is" Camille started as she turned "my husband David."
When David's eyes left the stranger and focused on her chest the instant she turned Camille immediately felt the heat of her cheeks reddening and the cool air of the night on her chest before glancing down to confirm her state of undress. While David and Seth were exchanging introductions she attempted as nonchalantly as possible to correct her wardrobe malfunction.
Seth was effusively thanking the two of them for stopping, and David was equally adamant how lucky Seth was to have escaped serious injury from the crash. Camille looked on, occasionally nodding and smiling, forcing the necessary words when need be, but her mind was drifting trying to reconcile her embarrassment and fascination at having given this handsome stranger a very clear view of her breast.
