My husband and his family have long been fans of the opening weekend of Deer Hunting Season. People take a couple of extra days off work and make a social event of it. Sort of a last rite before winter. This has been a long-standing Mormon tradition. Most don't give a shit if they even see a deer. It's just an event all over the woods. If Bambi just happens to bounce into some crosshairs, so be it.
Also a tradition is the Deer Hunt Widows' trip to Wendover. Wendover is the Latter Day Saints root of all evil. Vegas is 500 miles away for most, but you can be in Wendover from Salt Lake City in an hour and a half. The hotels are reasonable and there is gambling, good food, good times, and liquor. Mormon's and liquor, you have to go to the next town to buy so people from your ward won't know you buy it. Who do you meet there? People from your ward buying liquor.
So, the guys are in the woods drinking beer and the women are in the bars and lounges in Wendover drinking and playing penny slots. This doesn't go unnoticed by guys in other towns. Some even drive up from Vegas or over from Reno or California to get in on the action. It sort of takes on a "what happens in Vegas" kind of tone only the surroundings a lot more tawdry. No rules apply for one long weekend in the fall of the year and nobody talks.
I was raised a Baptist and moved to the Salt Lake area when I got a job at the airport after college. When I met my husband I had to jump through a lot of hoops to marry him in the Salt Lake Temple. His family and my new Mormon friends asked why we hadn't started one of those families with six or eight kids named after people in the Bible or the Book of Mormon. My husband knew I wasn't interested in an instant family.
This brings us to Wendover and me with my four sisters-in-law and my mother-in-law in three hotel rooms. This was my third year in the family when the Deer Hunt Widows trusted me to tag along. It was kind of a dull rundown version of Vegas, but more noise and bright lights than I had seen in a while.
I figured there could be drinking, flirting and dancing with strange men. It was Thursday night and that wasn't what I wanted. What surprised me was what the rest of the ladies had in mind.
We hit the first bar in a group, the six of us. The first thing I noticed that there were several guys without females. Some alone and others in groups of two to four. Every time a female entered the room all eyes checked her over. Our group was no different. We got checked over, too.
We had no sooner settled at a table when a white guy in his mid-thirties came over to ask me to dance. It seemed awkward after the others had made the Wendover trip before that I was the first approached by a man. The others were encouraging me to dance with him.
"Come on Dixie. Show him what you've got."
The others were cheering me on. Dixie was a nickname they gave me because I came from Alabama to marry their son/brother. My mother-in-law was the most vocal as the stranger led me to the dance floor. When the dance ended he asked me for another. Looking back at the table they were motioning me to dance with him again. By then drinks had been served. And they were all sipping drinks with little umbrellas or odd glasses, church standards being disrupted
I turned back into the stranger's arms. I thought of my moistening vagina before thinking of my husband. Something seemed more sexual than when I danced with my spouse. His hand was lower on my back this time near my hips. His moves caused my nipples to brush his chest and arms. My nipples poked back at him. Thoughts of my husband began to vanish as my attention was on the growing moistness of my crotch
Something about me must have been telling him green light. Was he moving tighter towards me or was it me crowding closer to him? Either way my nipples were hard from brushing against him and my pussy was soaking my panties. I was on a dance floor with a man sporting an erection. Not the man with which I had shared my wedding vows. This must be what women are looking for on the Deer Hunt Widows' Wendover Weekend I thought.
In a panic I remembered the rest of my family group at the table. All eyes were on me and the stranger except for my mother-in-law. She wasn't in the group. I scanned the room finding her at a table with two black men. My stranger's penis was against my stomach as we danced closer. As a happily married woman why was I wondering how his cock would feel buried in me?
I broke away to return to my table. My stranger tried to keep me with him.
"I thought we were having a good time. You are leaving me in a condition."
He nodded to the obvious bulge in his pants.
"Sorry, it went to far. I am married. I love my husband."
"You are married and love your husband, but here you are in Wendover. Am I right?"
I felt like an evil cheating slut. Had I had been alone I might have let him take me to his room and do it to me. I looked around for my mother-in-law, half expecting her to be screaming in my ear about cheating on her son. The table where she had been sitting had just the one black man sitting alone. I didn't see her on the dance floor.
Jill and I were the two married into the family. She was married to my husband's brother Andy. I sat with Jill, using her between me and the three sisters. The older sister went over to the black man at the table and was soon dancing with him. Things between them got raunchy pretty fast as things heated up between Big Sis and the black man on the dance floor. Mom came back with her black man and sat at the table
My mother-in-law had asked Jill and I to call her Mom. It felt comfortable.
Shortly after that Big Sis and the other black man walked by Mom and her black friend. I could see Mom smile at the couple as they went into the lobby towards the rooms. Mom and daughter were sharing a room. The other two sisters were asked to dance. One man was white, one black. Jill and I were at the table alone when it dawned on me.
"Oh, My God! Did Mom and the black guy go to her room?"
"Those guys were here last year. Mom and Sis paired off with them a couple of times, then swapped partners with them in the room."
"They had sex? Oh, My God!"
"Mom's already got the first load in her. Sis is going for hers. Look. Mom and the other guy are dancing. Mom will have his cum in her panties, if she is wearing any."
"We've driven to Wendover to have sex?" I stammered.
"Get fucked! It's a long drive just to dance with a guy."
"How long has this gone on?"
"With Mom, probably twenty years. She first came with her mother and her sisters. It's a long standing tradition on opening weekend for the deer hunt season."
"What do the husbands say?"
"I don't think any of them know. Mine sure doesn't. They are too involved in drinking beer with their buddies in the woods and freezing their asses off in a tent, camper, or cabin to think the wives are doing any more than playing some slots and having a watered down drink."
"Yours doesn't? You mean you, too?"
"Yeah, me, too. It looked like you might have been doing the same thing a few minutes ago if you didn't think we were watching."
Jill's expression was laughing at me. I blushed.
"How many times?"
"It my third year. The first two it was eleven. I started slow, but finished fast. Took on four the first year, seven the second."
"Seven! You screwed seven last year?"
"That's nothing, you should see Mom when she gets going!"
"All of these women are here to cheat on their husbands?"
"Not all of them. Some like you just don't know about it yet. The facts show that room bookings double the opening weekend of Utah deer season. That's a lot of Mormon wives looking to get inseminated. When you look around and see that a third of the men hanging around are black it's easy to see the preferences.
"My God, Jill. Have you let a black man have you?"
