Author's note: All characters are of age and this is strictly a work of fiction.
I had to go out of town for a conference and my wife Julie decided to come with. We were heading to a large town about six hours from our home, a town which we had been to a few times and always had a good time. Unfortunately I was going to be locked down in meetings all day long and on the third day we had a golf outing that I needed to attend. We had the evenings together, but she would be by herself during the day. Which for her, was not a problem. She is very outgoing and could meet people anywhere and she also liked lounging around the pool and soaking up the sunshine.
The first two nights were uneventful. We dressed up and went out dining and drinking and had a great time at a couple of different clubs. The third night was a little bit different. When we are out of town, she loves to dress more racy. We are in our mid fifties but look much younger and when we go out, she definitely turns heads. She is about five seven, 145, with very toned long legs, a tight ass and nice C cup tits and a pretty face with shorter hair. Not that we are swingers, but we have agreed that if an opportunity presents itself, take it, after all it's just sex.
As I was in the golf outing, she texted me and said, "Remember that new yellow mini dress I bought that you didn't get to see me in because it got ruined when I got a flat tire? I ordered a replacement and that is what I am going to wear tonight. I will be heading down to the hotel bar and you never know who might be there. Might want to hurry back afterward. I saw some really cute guys at the pool today. Maybe they'll be in the bar..."
I remember she told me it was a skin tight yellow mini dress, mid thigh, tube top that was really thin and you could see her areolas through it. In fact, it barely covered her nipples, according to her. She had matching yellow three inch heels.
She had accidentally bought it a size too small, but was able to get it on. It barely touched the tops of her thighs and really pushed her boobs up and put them on display. And because it was a size too small, if she raised her arms, her tits would come out and she had to take it off and pull it back over her head to get her boobs back in. That was how she described it to me.
After the golf outing, I got an uber and texted her. "Just got in the uber. Should be there in a little bit. Send me a pic so I know what you look like. Can't wait to see you."
She responded with a video she took as she was entering the bar. "Looks like a good crowd and I see several single guys sitting around. I wonder if I will turn any heads as I walk across to the bar with this outfit on. Doesn't really leave much to the imagination. In fact, I couldn't even bring my purse or credit card, so I hope someone buys me some drinks while I'm waiting for you."
"Send me a pic of your outfit," I responded.
She sent me a selfie of just her face. "Here you go. I can't believe you forgot what I looked like." She finished it off with a winkie face emoji.
I texted back, "I want to see your outfit."
No response.
The uber driver said, "It's just after five. The traffic is going to get really bad. I hope you're not in a hurry."
After about ten minutes, she texted, "I just got my first free drink put in front of me. I wonder who sent it? Was it the younger looking guy with the nice hair? Could it have been the black guy with the really nice eyes who I talked to at the pool? Or maybe the traveling salesman in the corner pretending to work on his laptop who keeps devouring me with his eyes?" She knew this type of flirting would get me wound up.
The traffic slowed to a crawl and I asked the uber driver, "Do you know any local short cuts? I'm kind of in a hurry."
"Nope. Even though we are moving very slowly, this is still the fastest way. Based on how far we have to go, it's probably another forty five minutes. Sorry."
I texted her that and she responded. "That's too bad. I may be gone by then. By the way, I figured out who bought me the first drink. But now, I have a second drink in front of me. Whatever will I do? How will I pay them back for the drinks?" She knows how to tease me and get me wound up.
After another ten minutes of sitting in traffic. Bing. Another photo was coming through. It was a photo of her sitting on the barstool. She was sitting with her legs crossed nicely, they looked soooo tan in comparison to her yellow dress, and you could tell that it barely covered her ass as she sat on the chair. I could clearly see her areolas through the dress. To say she looked gorgeous would be an understatement. I could see why she was getting free drinks.
I texted, "WOW! You weren't kidding when you said you looked great in that outfit. Who took the picture?"
No response.
After about five minutes, I texted, "Seriously. Who took the picture?" She knew she was driving me crazy by not responding.
Bing. Another picture was coming through. She was still sitting on the barstool, but now she had a guy on each side of her. It was the black guy and the one she described as the sales man. "The bartender took the pics. Sam gave us a great bar to go to later. That is, if you ever get here. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold these guys off. They're getting pretty touchy feely and I'm really liking it. I think they want me to "pay" for my drinks."
"Still stuck in traffic. Not moving very fast."
Bing. Another photo. This time, the two guys had their hands on her upper thighs. "Too bad. Moving pretty fast here," as she was holding another drink in each hand.
The traffic started to loosen up and we started to move again. Not quite at high speeds, but at least it wasn't slow anymore. "Moving fast now. Won't be long," I texted.
No response.
Another five minutes went by. Bing. The photo came through. It was a picture of her bald pussy with a finger in it. "I told you it was moving fast. We're now at a table so it is a little more discreet. This feels soooo good."
"Who's finger?"
No response.
Five minutes later, "Sorry. Not mine. I had to finish riding out an orgasm before responding. I'm having fun, but I think these two may need something in return. Hope you get here soon and rescue me before I..."
I asked the driver, "how we doing on time?"
"About ten minutes out. Won't be long now."
Bing. This time it was a photo of her face with a rather mischievous grin on it. "I wonder if they will be ok with hand jobs under the table? Or, I wonder if they are expecting something else. Possibly..."
Right after the driver said about ten minutes, we came to a complete stop in the downtown district. "Uh oh. Looks like there is an accident up ahead. Might be here for awhile."
"How far are we from the hotel? Could I walk it?"
"Yeah. It's about six blocks straight ahead, but I can't give refunds."