How lucky can an ordinary guy like me be? That's what I kept asking myself as I saw a few heads turning to watch me playfully caress the magnificent ass of this sexy hooker sitting next to me at the bar in a nightclub called Cuba Libre, in the Tropicana Casino in Atlantic City. But, even better, what they didn't know is that she was my wife.
It all started when my wife told me she was feeling ignored. She was right. I was ignoring her because I felt that I had been ignored too. We had gotten into a rut after 20 years together. So we set about recovering the fire that had made for a great marriage. To get things going, she gave me a book of coupons that I could redeem for different bedroom treats and activities.
I had been feeling really old lately as the end of another year approached. As I looked back at my life I found real meaning Mark Twain's words, "It's not the things you've done that you regret on your death bed it's the things you didn't do that can't be reconciled." So I told her that I had this idea that I wanted to play a little fantasy game one night. That's the sort of thing we used to do once in a while to spice up our sex life. Not that our sex life was bad, but just to make things interesting. It had been a long time since we had played around and so I was really ready.
I suggested that I'd like to redeem the "date with a hooker" coupon. "You see" I told her, "I've been a very straight-laced guy all my life. I've never once picked up a working girl for a night of meaningless sex." So my idea was that she would be my hooker. You know the type of girl I'm talking about; arm candy that draws attention to you just by being there by your side. Heels are high and morals are low; a whole lot of makeup and very little underwear; high hemlines and low-cut blouses. A good-times girl who has a lot experience and very little inhibition. A flirtatious slut who looks like she will do anything you want if the price is right. After all, even though my wife is fifty-three years old, I'll bet she could still make a good living as a hooker if she wanted to because she has the looks and body to turn guys on.
She is only five foot two, with small firm breasts that still don't need any help pointing up and out. She has a couple of extra pounds in her tummy but she still has a narrow waist. Her skin is still taut and that little bit of tummy actually looks quite attractive to me. She has a great well-shaped ass that still sticks out in the back. What the black guys call "back." Long dark hair cascades around her almond shaped eyes and Asian features creating an exotic look that draws lots of stares from guys whenever we're out.
I admit that I like to see other guys turn their heads to look at her so I always encourage her to dress provocatively. Usually she only wears her sexiest clothes when we are going places where she isn't likely to be seen by people who know us. That usually limits our opportunity to the few times each year that we travel to other cities or countries. Fulfilling my fantasy at a local casino was a risk. After all it could be embarrassing if one of her friends or co-workers saw her dressed like that. But she would be calling all the shots and could call it off at any time.
When my fantasy night arrived, I was ready for some fun. We took a room at the Tropicana so we didn't have to worry about driving home or how late we stayed up. This also would give her a place to change if she felt uncomfortable. It was still early when we arrived so we had a lot of time to walk about before our dinner. It always gives me a good feeling to walk around with this sexy woman on my arm. We spent the next few hours enjoying ourselves and playing slots. When evening came we showered together, washing each other sensuously as we often did and having a little early evening excitement in the shower before we went out. We had a great dinner and spent some time gambling while I waited with anticipation for my big night.
As the evening wore on she said that she was going back to the room to get ready now. She told me to wait for her at the bar. I wasn't going to be permitted to watch her dress. And I like to watch her dress, offering my comments on her choices of garments. She told me that first time I would see her in her hooker outfit was going to be when she walked into the bar where I was waiting. I was told that I should not act like I knew her once we met at the bar. I was told be waiting there in 30 minutes.
I killed some time walking around the casino floor. When the thirty minutes had passed I went to the bar. It was late on a Thursday night and the bar wasn't too crowded. This was good because we shouldn't run into anyone we know. There were a few couples sipping drinks at the small tables clustered around the edge of the small dance floor and a couple of guys at the bar. There was no band but a salsa tune was playing over the piped-in music. The place was fairly dark. A few recessed spotlights created pools of light at intervals around the room. The bar itself was lit by recessed spots so that the bartender could see. As usual, several of the women in this up-scale bar were really dolled up in their short skirts and tight blouses. I took a seat at the bar a few stools down from two other guys threw a fifty on the bar and ordered a Corona.
Then I saw her!
She walked in through the door and paused to let her eyes adjust to the light. She really looked the part. Her long hair was teased up, her makeup was overdone; full, bright red lips, eyes deeply outlined with a dark liner and eye shadow over the lids. She had big flashy dangling earrings and a choker necklace; cheap costume jewelry, I'm sure. She was wearing her candy-apple red high heels with ankle straps. The new ultra low-rise jeans she was wearing were cut lower than anything I'd ever seen her in before and were unbelievably tight. She was wearing a thin pink stretch top that peeked through her unbuttoned jacket. The top stopped a few inches short of her jeans exposing a sexy strip of sepia skin and a little henna tattoo she'd applied to her hip. I could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra under her jacket so I knew that her dark nipples would show through the thin fabric of the top. She had been visiting the tanning salon and the effect of her over all tan was dazzling. Her walk completed the advertisement of her profession. She swayed her ass back and forth as she strutted over to the bar. I had no idea that she was capable of walking like that. When she sat on the bar stool the hip-huggers rode down her magnificent ass right to the crack and exposed the little black string of her thong underwear. Man she looked hot!
She took a seat between me and the other two guys and ordered a mango rum on the rocks. As she sat on the bar stool her jacket fell open and I was sure by the look that the bartender gave her that he had just caught a quick glimpse of her rack. The two guys to her left both said hello to her. I smiled over at her and offered to buy her a drink. She ignored me and them while she made small talk with the hot looking Hispanic bartender. I ordered another beer and told him to set her up too. Finally she slipped off her stool and came over. She slid onto the bar stool next to me, introduced herself and flashed another smile at the bartender as he served the drinks. She casually placed her hand on my upper thigh leaned over and gave me a little kiss on the cheek to thank me for the drink. Her breast pressed into my arm and she hesitated before pulling away. When she leaned back her jacket fell open and I could make out the outline of a breast in the bar's overhead lights. Needless to say, I was aroused.
She breathlessly apologized for being forward and she explained that she was gambling with some friends but they had become separated. She said she was glad I was there because she felt self-conscious sitting alone. She asked me if she could be my date --she put a strange emphasis on this phrase. She said that she had lost all her money earlier and now she couldn't even afford another drink. The bartender was standing nearby cleaning nothing in particular and watching her out of the corner of his eye. I told her that I too was alone. I offered to keep her from getting too thirsty. She downed her drink and ordered another. I suggested that we kill a few hours together and hoped that we could have some fun. The bartender was now watching us closely. I know he heard our little exchange.
As we sat there talking her jacket sort of drooped back on her shoulders and I got a good look at the lacy top she was wearing. It wasn't much more than some flimsy gauze. I liked this top immensely. She was obviously aroused and her dark nipples were piercing into the gauzy fabric. I couldn't stop staring.
She took my hand and led me toward the dance floor. The place was still sort of empty but and a few couples were dancing. As we walked across the dance floor she put her arm around my waist and then let it slip so that she was grabbing my ass. I knew the bartender was watching all of this. I reached my arm around her waist and we began to dance. She leaned in close to me and started grinding her pelvis into my thigh while we danced. She hadn't done this since we were dating; it was exciting to feel her mound being pressed against me. I'm sure that the bartenders are trained to watch for prostitutes. I wondered what I would do if security showed up and asked her to leave.