This is one of those, "I never thought it could happen to me" confessions. Actually it's more like two of them. One is I never thought something could make such a dramatic difference in my sex life with my husband, Jim. The other is the actual activity that caused the change.
To begin, my name is Claudia. I've been married to Jim for 26 years; we are both 48. We married right out of college when I discovered I was pregnant with our only child, a daughter. Jim is a midlevel executive with an oil company. For 25 years, I was a high school English teacher. I retired last year, and have taken a part-time job teaching a remedial class at the local community college.
Jim travels about once a month for work and I'd always wanted to go along with him, but almost never could because of work or motherhood commitments. Now, with our daughter off on her own and work responsibilities reduced, I looked forward to some adventures with my husband.
I guess I'd always romanticized Jim's trips, and often imagined some pretty wild and erotic things we would get up to. These fantasies would be used to supply needed relief when Jim wasn't around or if he was just too tired. The frequency of our sexual activities had really declined over the last 5 years or so.
I really thought things would improve once the classroom didn't drain so much of my energy. What I didn't realize was that Jim suffered from reduced libido due to stress and lack of energy as much as I did. So, although my sex drive has returned, and maybe even increased in the last year, that doesn't seem to be the case with Jim.
Moving along, the "incident", as Jim and I have come to refer to it, happened exactly 4 weeks ago. We flew to Washington D.C. and stayed at the J. W. Marriott Hotel. Jim managed to get our tickets upgraded to first class, and I was in a very good mood.
Since our other trips had left a little to be desired romance-wise, I talked Jim into staying over Saturday night so we could see a bit of the museums on the Capitol Mall and not have the pressure of Jim needing to attend meetings the next day.
Things were going really well. The hotel is beautiful and located right next to the Mall. We got back from the Smithsonian about 4:30 and took a nap before dinner. We ate at the hotel, finishing about 9:30 pm. Jim was feeling great and suggested we stop by the lounge for a couple more drinks.
I told Jim I'd rather go back to the room and attack him. Plus, I was worried if he drank too much, he wouldn't be able to perform. But he was insistent, so we stopped in.
The tables were pretty full with couples and small groups while the seats at the bar were virtually deserted. We sat down and as the bartender approached for our order, I thought he looked really familiar but couldn't place him.
He was very tall, about 6'6", well built, maybe 25-to-30 years old, and black. After he'd gone to get the drinks, I asked Jim if he remembered the man. Jim said he didn't, but I was sure I'd seen him before. Jim made a crack about me having a secret life.
"Only a fantasy one," I shot back, thinking that this young black hunk was soon to be included in it.
When my newest imaginary lover returned with the drinks, I saw his nametag, and everything clicked into place.
"Franco!" I exclaimed, "It's been a long time."
He looked at me, puzzled.
"I'm Claudia, Jamie's mother."
It took about five seconds, but the realization finally came over his face.
"Oh my God," he smiled broadly, "How long has it been?" He extended his hand.
I shook it and re-introduced Jim, who was, of course, still puzzled.
"You remember Franco, don't you Jim? He dated Jill for a couple of years in college." Jill had been Jamie's roommate. "He was over to the house a couple of times for parties with Jamie's friends, weren't you Franco?"
"I think so. It's really been a while. What's it been three or four years? It's good to see you again. And don't worry about the drinks, they're on the house tonight."
Franco paid us as much attention as he could, but drink orders for the tables kept him pretty busy. For a while, he talked to Jim about basketball. Franco had a scholarship at college, but wasn't good enough for the pros.
As they chatted, my mind began to wander to a fantasy I had for a while. OK, it's not too hard to figure out, older white wife, young black stud. You get the picture. And, since I was already determined to get some action from Jim, the mental pictures I was now having were creating quite a juice flow in me.
The fantasy had begun one time when Franco was at a party at our house. Jim and I tried to stay out of the way, but as I was bringing out more refreshments, I overheard part of a conversation two coeds were having as they hungrily eyed Franco dancing with Jill.
"I heard he's proportionate," was all I heard, but it was enough initiate secret thoughts, secret fantasies.
At the bar, I eyed Franco, and wondered if he could tell what I was thinking. I flirted with him a bit, showing the cleavage I'd prepared for Jim's benefit. A couple of times, I let the hem of my skirt ride up so the tops of my thigh-highs were visible.
I don't know what effect it had on Franco, but it got me hotter and hotter. I pursed my lips when ordering, and slid my tongue slowly across my upper lip after sipping my drink keeping me eyes fixed on his.
We were finishing our third round around 10:30 when Franco came over and said his shift was over. He wished us a good night.
"Mmmm," I said, wrapping my arm around Jim by way of saying goodbye to Franco, "I've got to get old Jim upstairs. I promised him a wild night." I was talking about my husband, but I was still flirting with the black man.
"Why don't you come up to our room for a night cap?" Jim asked.
I was flabbergasted! I was ready to hump a beer bottle, and here Jim was asking this guy back to our room! Hopefully, he'd say no.
"Why not?" asked Franco. So we all went upstairs.
