We batted it around, Louie and I did, as to where we wanted to go for our spring break. I know that term is overused, but a spring break from office and business stress can be a good thing. We are not kids, but we had been going every April to Naples, Florida, where my mother has a fine home. But Florida, at least Naples, is boring. Once past the beach, there's nothing there. They have no cuisine, no olive oil, no wine – everything is imported. The good restaurants are $100 a plate, you'll get a ticket at the beach if you have an out of state tag, and all in all, that sucks. For food pilgrims who are wine drinkers, Naples, Florida is a bust.
On the other hand, sleeping with Louie in the guestroom of my mom's house, with my mother's permission, was different. My previous husbands had been there with me. But Louie and I, we weren't ever....married.... never had the arrangement licensed...so he never married me, so what...we went to Catholic church together and everyone knew me as his wife, and he was my husband for ten years. Legal records didn't reflect it, that didn't matter. I had his gold cards in my purse. A few states, including Texas, still recognize common law marriage.
That was the longest I've lasted with anyone. Three licensed marriages, three long term live together unions, and my relationship with Louie was the longest ever. When we started out we were each married to other people, all the signs were against us lasting at all. He was a big guy, 6'2, muscular and toned, 190 pounds, with movie star good looks, broad shoulders and a square cut Italian American jaw. I'd wear heals whenever I could, so that he would not tower over my 5'5 thin frame. Louie had a physical presence about him, a personal magnetism, he would attract attention whenever he entered a room. And that means the attention of every good looking woman. He was charming, he had charisma, and as a lawyer he knew what to say and when to say it.
After some thought, we focused on visiting Texas. We could have gone wherever we wanted to go, Greek Isles, Argentina, hell we went to Europe eight times. Well...why Texas? It was my pick. I had work connections there, in San Antonio, and I could write part of the expenses off. If I had 'meetings' with our Texas associate, our company would pick up the cost. As we insurance people say, it became a win – win. I scheduled meetings with the Texas insurance guy, Lamar Scott, to discuss the Texas 'school pool'. Pooling means grouping and brokering, enough of that. Plus Texas is the beginning point of the southwest cuisine of America. Texas has excellent wine, and great unique food, food that blends its base on the variety of people who have settled there. To us, Texas offered a lot more than Florida. But before you read much further I need to add that Louie went online with Texas types, where to go, what to do sort of stuff. We were advised, in advance, that the Texas beaches were the absolute worst of the entire Caribbean gulf coast. That's what Texas people told us about their state, but we went anyway.
The plan was to fly from cold Ohio to hot San Antonio. For that to happen, three ups, three downs. All the hazards of flying multiplied. At the time, our no frills airline was advertising that passengers could carry on their own picnic food, which for us meant a few bottles of Chardonnay, some cheese, some French bread. They didn't throw us off the plane, but they had a whatever when we opened up our own wine. They wanted to sell us wine, at $$ per glass, not let us drink our own carry on.
Finally, after stops in bars at the St. Louis and the Houston airports, we made it to San Antonio. I had booked a fancy suite at an airport hotel, the kind of place that has its own airport taxi. It was late when we arrived, and the noisy aircraft were overhead, but we were there, finally there. It was after eleven when we checked in, over ten hours out of Ohio. After tossing our luggage down, we checked out the pool and the hot tub, which was right outside our room.
"Louie," I said, "let's get changed and enjoy this hot tub. It will help relax your back. Turn the jets on and the heater up. It's been along day."
"Sure," Louie said, as he cranked the timer up to the maximum half hour.
We went back into our hotel room. Never one to dispute my decisions, Louie slipped on his trunks as I slipped on a black bikini - one of the three suits that I had brought along. In a minute, we'd gathered big hotel towels, a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses. Louie slid open the sliding glass door and we stepped toward the hot tub. That late, the pool was dark and technically it was closed, but we didn't care. That suite was expensive, one of those 'with kitchen' deals, and I paid. We each eased ourselves into the steaming, swirling water. Louie poured out glasses of wine, and we attempted to unwind after a long day.
Ten minutes or so later, another couple approached, and asked us if it was OK for them to join us. I looked at them, Louie looked at them. They were a very attractive couple, thin, slim. They had their hotel towels and they had their bathing suits on. I sipped on my wine as I checked them out.
"No one has bothered us yet," Louie said. "So, by the power of the Senate and the people of Texas, we are declaring this hot tub to be open for guests of this hotel. It's a little hot, be careful."
The guy was tall with blond hair, mid thirties, and the gal – younger than I am, no doubt - was an attractive brunette. She had a nice top, a firm waist, and long legs. Her long brown hair crossed her chest as she stood in the flickering light from the adjacent guest rooms. Those lights cast reflections across the water, lending a surreal air to the dark evening hour. The tub had reclining steps, which some people descend as they get used to the hot water. First the guy tossed his towel and slid right in, up to his neck, and sighed. But the lady, after tossing her towel, she chose the long slow descent. The water framed her legs like a pair of thigh highs as she stepped in; her tight bikini bottom was balanced a foot from my face.
This couple - no names - said that they were from somewhere in Oklahoma, that they had also just flown in, and they were in San Antonio on a business trip. Neither wore a wedding ring. We didn't make a lot of small talk, my hunch is that they were equally as tired as we were. Louie and I had another glass of wine. After a few minutes of sitting there, relaxing, the gal whispered something to the guy, and then she spoke.
"Do you guys care if we take our suits off? This will be more comfortable without this tight suit pinching on me."
There was no light in the hot tub, and we four were only bobbing heads at chest line above the water. It was dark outside, we couldn't see much anyway. I certainly didn't care if they wanted to shed their suits.
"Sure, no problem," Louie said back to them.
There's something about watching another couple, especially a couple that are complete strangers, take their bathing suits off. We leaned back and watched. They each did it under water, but the fact that they were doing it with us there was really exciting. The guy was naked in seconds, but the gal squirmed and tugged, all underwater, and managed to free herself of her suit without exposing so much as her nipples. Instead of flopping their suits on the concrete, they kept them in the water. In the dark, no one could see that they were nude.
Louie looked over at me, and he didn't need to say a thing. I started stripping. We each quickly removed our suits...but...I had to be better at being exciting...I had to better the younger woman...so I sat up a step....so that my boobs, my perfectly matched, childless, natural 36C boobs, were above the water line. I was challenging the younger woman, showing off my body rather than hiding myself under the water. Louie moved over and wrapped his arm around me, he thanked me for being me.
We still hadn't had much conversation with the other couple, even though we were all naked together. They stared at my boobs as if they didn't care, they really were relaxing. The scene was tranquil, much like a European nude beach where sexual tension is not an issue. With the warm jets circulating, I let my open legs float to the top of the water, hoping that the other couple would like looking at me. Louie slipped his hand over to my vagina, but I have never enjoyed being finger fucked in chlorinated hut tub water at a hotel. A private tub, maybe, a beach, OK, but I try to avoid Clorox on my clit. Then I thought that I noticed that the other gal was giving the guy a hand job under the water; she leaned that way, her arm was in motion, but his penis was not visible. Yes, I could see it. I could see it in his face and in his posture, she was working him under the water. Maybe she saw Louie cup my puss, she could have, I was visibly exposed for them. Then she looked our way and spoke.
