Mie & Lucy’s Anniversary Adventure

(Part of a larger narrative. More to come.)

It had been a fairly spur of the moment decision.

"We should do something special for our anniversary?"

"Special?"

That glint in her eye as she said it ...

"Yes, special. Get dinner somewhere. Few bars, maybe go clubbing even. Make a weekend of it."

"Get a nice hotel."

"Oh, most definitely get a nice hotel."

"With a big bed."

"That sounds promising ..."

And so we'd planned an anniversary weekend away, booking a beautiful boutique hotel in the city we'd met more than a decade ago. The hotel's enormous beds were highlighted in both the description and the reviews, as was the large, walk-in shower in most rooms; "big enough for three" said one review.

Dinner took some organising. The Michelin-starred restaurant we'd eyed was booked out for the next four months but we found another classy venue in the heart of the city's gay quarter with a four-course tasting menu that everyone seemed to rave about. Alongside the amazing food and intimate vibe, the friendly and exemplary service was also a highlight.

We planned to hit some of the old haunts we'd had a lot of fun in before we got married. Gazelle, one of our favourites, was a laidback and raunchy gay club with a brilliant dancefloor, and conveniently just around the corner of our hotel. A few other familiar bars still seemed to be thriving. I was starting to feel nostalgic.

Out of us both, Lucy was definitely the one getting more and more excited as our weekend away loomed closer. We'd always been quite open about our fantasies and desires, even more so now, but Lucy was keeping uncharacteristically tight-lipped about her plans for this weekend.

All that and more was going through my head in the days leading up to the Friday morning when we packed our bags.

On the bed, Lucy had lain out a couple of dresses. Each was beautiful. And each was a big statement about what she had in mind for the next 48 hours or so. She offered no further clues, and just looked at me with her sexy, coy smile.

"What?" she asked with faux innocence.

In front of her was the long, deep red dress, figure hugging, low cut to her chest, high cut on the side up her thighs. It fitted her perfectly, and showed off and accentuated her curves and cleavage. Sexy, classy, elegant, she could wear it to a posh ball or a cocktail party or out clubbing. Or all three. The last time she wore it she'd been on all fours while I watched another man fuck her.

Next to it lay a bright emerald green mini that was, frankly, indecent. Thin to the point of see-through, it was low-cut and short. Lucy called it her slutty-fuck-me dress, and I'd been nagging her to wear out for several months now, though she'd only ever worn it for me in the house. Last time she'd worn it was a few weeks back, when her sex-crazed friend Gaby had been over. I'd pushed it up around her waist and pulled it down from her breasts while she rode me, hard. As she collapsed, breathless, on top of me, my cock still throbbing with my own orgasm, Gaby had whispered over, "I fucking love you in that dress you sexy bitch."

Lucy in either of these dresses would turn heads, a thought that made my cock swell. I raised my eyes at her and gave her a questioning look.

"Let's just see, shall we."

Then she opened the drawer where we kept our toys and pulled out the largest of our dildos. A red 10" monster we'd already got some mileage out of. She flopped that onto the bed too, along with a tube of lube.

I did not see that coming, and coughed in surprise. So that was why she hadn't wanted to fly ...

"Just in case," she said.

"Just in case, what?"

"Let's just see, shall we."

***

On the city train, as the miles between our home and hotel grew in number, we both grew ever horny. Her fingers grazed the inside of my leg, pressing into the denim holding in my swollen cock. Then she pressed more firmly, flitting between a glance and grip. This teasing went on for miles, taking me close to an orgasm then easing off as we slowed down then stopped at stations, but resuming once everyone had settled in their seats again. It was torture and I loved every second of it. In response I glanced my fingers along her thighs. A sly pinky flicking up and over her lips, the fabric of her pants damp. I wasn't sure whether the the middle-aged couple sitting across from us could have noticed? Possibly. Did we care? Not at all.

We took a taxi to the hotel, but sat at either door. We might have looked cold and distant to the driver, but we were anything but. Lucy was soaking and I was trying to get my erection to subside. Alighting from the train had been a little bit awkward.

A 20-something attractive receptionist checked us in, passing over the keycard and pointing to the lift to our floor. "Fourth floor. You've got a nice view. Enjoy your stay," she said after us as we rushed to the lift.

The lift up was mercifully quick, but still enough time for me to plunge three fingers into my wife's sopping wet pussy and for her to bring me to the verge of exploding by desperately going for my cock through my denims. The doors lurched open and we fell towards our room, the door burst open and our clothes were torn from each other before the lock had even clicked shut. We both came on each other's hands in about 60 seconds, lips tingling from the hard, hard kissing while I pinned her against the wall.

We didn't get dressed until the next morning, calling up room service after we'd fucked each other's brains out. It was the sexy receptionist who brought it.

"Enjoy," she said knowingly as she passed the tray over to me, clad only in my loosely tied hotel dressing gown. "Just call if I can help with anything else."

She was definitely flirting. I stored that thought for later.

We ate, and finished off the Prosecco, and Lucy then said to me, "Let's shower."

I soaped up her lithe body, rubbing the gel into bubbles over her arms and shoulders, her breasts and bum. Fingers gliding over the swollen lips of her puss, my cum leaking from her.

She did the same back. Clenched my cock and rubbed it back and forth. Back and forth. Her hand continued on its journey, caressing my balls and round my back, pausing as her fingertips brushed between my ass. Soaped up and wet she pushed a finger in easily. I pushed back and rested both hands on the wall. She moved round to stand behind me and took my cock in her hand and pushed into me harder. I was instantly rock solid, again.

"You like that, don't you."

"Oh my god I love it."

"But I know what you really want."

"Tell me."

"You want a big hard cock there don't you."

"Oh god yes."

"You want to be fucked hard from behind don't you."

"Yes. Oh god yes."

"I'm going to watch you get fucked tomorrow night, you know that, don't you."

"Yes."

"We'll go to Gazelle. I know you always liked going there, and I'm going to find you a good looking man and we'll bring him back here and I'm going to watch you suck his cock before he fucks you hard in the ass."

"Oh god."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, you fucking slut."

"Yes ..."

I felt her stretch me.

"That's four fingers your dirty slut."

I was in heaven. Lucy's hands worked her magic and her filthy whispers in my ears were driving me nuts, but I still managed to gasp out, "And what about you? What will you be doing?"

"My turn to watch. I'll sit on the chair with my legs wide open and finger myself as you get fucked. Maybe I'll use our toy. You can watch me plunge that big dildo into my wet cunt as you get fucked hard by another man."

A pause.

"Or maybe I'll ring down for room service."

With her sexy voice in my ear, and the hot water, soap and steam, with her fingers probing deep in my ass and her hands working my the length of my dick, I couldn't contain myself any more and my cock exploded, my cum spraying into the cascading water of the hot shower.

I turned to face her and watched as she lay back against the wall, her feet apart, as one hand rubbed between her legs and the other cupped and massaged her breasts, fingertips squeezing and twisted her nipple until she too, with a deep moan and an arch of her back and curl of her lip, jerked into climax too.

***

The next morning we got dressed and went down for breakfast. The cute receptionist wasn't around. We had a decent feed then headed out to explore the city that we'd once known so well and which had, like us, undergone some small and fairy major changes over the past decade or so.

Lunch was a sandwich and a stroll through the botanical gardens. We lay on the grass in the sun reliving our wild youth, those intense yet carefree days when we were just becoming boyfriend and girlfriend. We lay by the tree that, not long after we'd started going out, Lucy had ridden me in the dusk. She'd released my cock from my trousers and sat over me in a long maxi dress, pulling her pants to the side. We'd definitely been watched, and hadn't cared. Even back then Lucy had hinted towards an exhibitionist side.

Back at the hotel, despite the tension, we kept our hands to ourselves and with the exception of the occasional kiss, glance or caress in passing, we refrained from fucking each other's brains out again. It went unsaid but we both knew what each other was thinking: we were saving ourselves.

We took showers separately. Shaving and cleaning alone this time.

I came out of the shower, the towel round my waist to see Lucy standing in front of the long mirror, clad in a too short towel, alternating the two dresses in front of her. Dark eye-liner brought out her eyes. Her makeup made her look even more beautiful and sexy.

"The short one gets my vote, every time."

"I don't know. It's really short though. And really shows off my boobs. Maybe if I was still in my 20s."

"You still look like you're in your 20s. You can carry it off. Trust me."

"Everyone will see what I'm wearing underneath."

I grinned.

"Simple solution to that. Wear nothing."

"You're terrible. You'd have your wife go out, in this short slutty dress, practically see-through, with no underwear on."

"Proudly."

"I don't know know. I'll have a think."

"You look stunning in that other dress too you know. Fuck me, you look stunning in that towel. Whatever you decide, I've lucked out."

"And don't you forget it."

I was easy. Fitted shirt and tight trousers and smart shoes. I looked dapper. Lucy still stood undecided.

"Do it. You want to. If you didn't you'd have put on the red one by now."

And so she did, though she drew the line at wearing nothing else, putting on a cream silk thong that didn't do much to cover her. The dress cupped her large breasts beautifully, pulling them together and displaying them outwards and upwards to form an eye-catching cleavage that drew your eyes away from the obscenely short hemline of her dress.

She grabbed her small bag, "Ready?"

"Ready," I replied, and followed her out of the hotel room, mesmerised by her beautiful form, and butterflies over the thoughts of what this night might bring.

The sexy receptionist, back on duty, did a double take as we passed. Her eyes on Lucy, then an embarrassed smile,and her demure eyes ducked down as she caught me watching, then she cautiously flicked her eyes back up and we shared a guilty smile. Yes, we were going out like that. Yes, my wife looked stunning. Yes ... you do have a chance.

***

The restaurant was small, dark and intimate. Perfect. The waiter, a young handsome man who oozed professionalism and charm, led us to our table in a quiet corner and didn't bat an eyelid at Lucy.

"He's cute," Lucy said to me after our waiter had brought over our drinks and left with our order. Was that flirtation or professional friendliness, I wondered, as we shared a bit of easy banter. It was hard to tell.

At first Lucy kept adjusting her dress. Nudging it back up over her breasts; inching it down in a vain attenot to cover a little bit more thigh. From where he stood when he brought our food over, I reckon our waiter - Lucy in an overt bit of flirting found out his name was Ali - would have had a very good view down her elevated cleavage.

By dessert, we'd nudged our chairs closer and hands had gotten a little bit looser as the few drinks we'd had eased our inhibitions. The couples around us, wrapped up in their own relationship dramas, seemed not to notice my hand high on the inside of Lucy's thigh, her legs a little apart. Resisting, but not really.

"You're terrible."

"What?!"

"You know what."

The waiter, with impeccable timing, came over. I took my hand back.

"Can I get you anything else."

"Mmm, what else is there?"

"I can show you our extensive cocktail list."

Was it my imagination or had he emphasised the word cock?

We settled on a couple of shorts and knocked them back quick. Lovely as this place was, we were keen to move on.

"Anything else?"

I got the sense, and Lucy later agreed, that Ali was paying more attention to our table than to the others around us. Flattering really, he was a good-looking guy.

"Just the bill I think."

"Of course. I hope you two enjoy the rest of your night."

"Oh we will. Thank you, that was fabulous."

I settled up and left him a decent tip. A very friendly smile from him as he held the door open for us. The streets outside had got decidedly busier since we'd gone in for our meal. Music throbbed from bars and cars, and cheerful couples and groups swayed by. The noise and bustle of Saturday night. It was sexy and exciting and intoxicating and we snogged like teenagers in the middle of the pavement to the accompaniment of wolf whistles. My wondering hands brushed over the hem of her short dress, which had risen up slightly revealing her ass and her cream thong pants, and cupped Lucy's beautiful ass.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

We'd planned on hitting old haunts from our uni days. The gay club Gazelle had always had an awesome dance floor and DJs who'd played sexy, throbbing dance music. They'd done a straight night back in the day, but the gay nights had always been better. We'd loved it back then, both the music and the vibe, and we'd both enjoyed flirting with our wilder sides though nothing had ever come of it. It was free and easy and joyful, with a reputation for debauchery in the later hours. We both hoped it hadn't changed much over the years.

But first we dived into Striped for a couple of cocktails. The place had had a serious makeover. Gone were the tired leather seats and shoddy gantry. Now it was soft furnishings and intimate booths with backlit lighting and vintage portraits and mirrors. Glass shelves of expensive whiskies and craft gins, tequilas and rums. Aged and distorted mirrors opened the space up, giving it a trendy vintage feel, and letting you look around without it being too obvious. A stab of nostalgia hit us but it was such a sexy venue now that we loved it even better.

We sat in one of the dim booths, perfectly positioned for privacy, though a couple of mirrors gave us insight into other booths. And vice versa.

Lucy's hand lay on my leg as my arm reached round her back, my fingers gliding up and down her side.

"So..."

"Still up for this?"

"Yes. You?"

"Definitely."

"We'll just let what happens happen."

She smiles. "Oh it's definitely happening."

"We'll see honey."

"He was hot."

"Who?"

"Ali."

"Was he?"

"You know he was."

At that she runs her hand higher and squeezes my swelling cock through the denim.

"I can't wait to watch you get on all fours and get fucked by another man. God, the thought of it is making me so wet."

I just grin at her.

"Here. Feel."

She pulls her hand back. Takes an innocent drink from her espresso martini then drops her hand below the table and between her legs.

An intake of breath.

A moment later two wet fingers are between my lips.

"See?"

I suck on them.

She pulls away. In one of the mirrors I can see a couple watching but can't figure out from where.

"I can't decide if you'd prefer that to be a big, hard cock ...

"Or?

"Coated in cum."

"Do I have to decide?"

"Let's just see what happens darling."

We reflected on the meal, old times, new times, and once again replayed those nights at Gazelle where something could have happened but just didn't. It felt very, very different this time around.

Fragments of the mirror showed us bits of other couples. Some were watching. Others chatting. One was making out. Lucy sidled right up to me and I pulled her closer and kissed her hard. We could probably have had sex there but we held back, chests heaving, lips tingling. Swollen. Faces flush. My cock hard. Her pussy wet.

"Let's go dancing darling."

***

Music hit us as we entered Gazelle and Lucy swayed straight for the dance floor, her hips swinging and bare arms reaching up. I went to the bar and got us a couple of drinks. We were a bit tipsy by then.

The bar and dance floor were in the same place and the venue itself had been given a lick of paint, but aside from a bit of extra neon it seemed little had changed. Much darker than before. It felt like they'd turned the lights down further and upped the throbbing strobe. Dark corners of the club momentarily lifted from the gloom, revealing snapshots of limbs and heads and bodies before they vanished again into darkness. On repeat. Low cut and short dresses. Gooen bikini tops. A few men topless. There was quite a bit of flesh on show. I was already horny but this notched it up a level. It was incredibly arousing.

Tall drinks in each hand I went to look for my wife on the dance floor. There she was, dancing between two men when I got there. Not too close. Not too sleazy. Just dancing and big smiles all round as I joined the group and moved in. Not muscling in, just part of a mass of seething bodies. She put her arms around me and ground herself into me.

"Oh god I'm so horny," she shouted in my ear. "I'd fuck you on the floor right now if I could." Whether anyone heard or not, no one cared. We weren't the only ones grinding against one and other, then breaking up and revolving round the floor with strangers who for a moment or two shared an intimate smile, an intimate touch, and a happy grin.

Time moved on and we took a break by the booths, standing next to a group of women who definitely had eyes for Lynn. One had come onto her in the toilets she'd said. Smiles skirted between them.

Lucy's dress was turning heads though in this place it was far from the most outrageous outfit. She oozed class, though we were both starting to feel over-dressed. I didn't remember Gazelle being quite this openly sex obsessed. Times had changed a touch. i be loved it.

I tried not to look when two of the women near us started making out on the corner, hands everywhere while the other two in that quartet just chatted nonchalantly as the other two kissed passionately next to them. Hands cupped breasts and ran between legs. The other lady rocking forward as she rubbed herself on her partner's hand. Occasionally they'd come up for air then dive back down. I had to drag my eyes away, though I wasn't the only one watching. Lucy was transfixed. It definitely had the air of a performance.

"Let's get a drink," said my wife after a while and we snaked our way back to the bar.

As I ordered, I heard my wife shout, "Oh hi!", and when I turned around I saw her arms round the neck of the waiter Ali, who'd served us earlier in the evening. He'd shed his whites and was now standing in a tight shirt and next to another handsome man, who like Ali was about 10 years younger than us. Lucy's dress had ridden right up again, revealing her round ass and the silk thong that rose up the centre of her cheeks, slicing her perfect ass.

"Hey," I said and we all gave hugs as if we were best friends. Ali's hand lingered on my side. My hand rove over Lucy's now bare ass. Neither of us bothered to pull the hem back down.