Emily - Meeting in Las Vegas

The other night, my wife and I decided to have a date night at a hotel, as a break from our usual routine with the kids. During our time together, we talked about one of my fantasies involving her friend and mentioned that I had started writing it as a story. My wife, being an avid reader of adult novels, encouraged me to finish it so she could read it. I hope she enjoys it. So, here it goes

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For years, I've enjoyed reading stories on this site and felt it was finally time to share one of my own. This story is inspired by a fantasy I've had for quite a while--about having an affair with my wife's best friend, Emily.

My wife and I have been happily married for 20 years and have a fulfilling sex life. Over the years, we've become much more open about discussing our sexual desires and fantasies. Around 15 years ago, we started playing a game of 20 questions, where we'd ask each other fun and spicy questions. One time, my wife asked if I had ever fantasized about any of her friends. I couldn't deny it, so I admitted that I had fantasized about her friend Emily. My wife was not surprised about it, even say she had an idea.

My wife and I first met over 25 years ago, and while there's a slight age gap between us, with me being the older one, it never really mattered. We met when she was still in high school, and I was wrapping up my time in college. We started off as close friends, and as time passed, with her going off to college, we eventually began dating and later married. During her high school years, my wife had a best friend named Emily.

When my wife and I got married, Emily was in her third year of college. Emily was about 5'6" with long, blonde hair and a natural beauty that always caught my eye. She was an athlete and had a toned body from her years as a swimmer in high school. Her body had just the right amount of curves in all the right places.

Emily had a great sense of style--whether she was dressed up or casual. She often wore form-fitting dresses that showcased her curves, paired with high heels that added to her confident, sexy presence. She also knew how to make simple outfits look amazing--like a pair of well-fitted jeans and a casual t-shirt. She had this way of dressing that felt both fashionable and relaxed, always flattering her figure, and her love for "Sex and the City" influenced her wardrobe choices. Emily was the kind of woman who could wear anything and make it look sexy.

While I love my wife deeply and consider her the most beautiful woman in the world, I can't help but find myself drawn to thoughts of Emily from time to time.

I'll have to write another story about the first time my wife and I played 20 questions, a game that started innocently enough but eventually led us down a path of roleplaying. What started as just playful curiosity turned into something much more intense, with my wife taking on the role of Emily, in a way that blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. It was an unexpected and thrilling experience, one that sparked a whole new dynamic in our relationship. But that's a story I'll save for another time, as it's one worth telling in full detail.

Now, let's dive into my fantasy. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do (though I'm sure I'll enjoy it even more as I relive it).

It was early spring, and I was gearing up for a three-day business trip to Vegas. The conference was your typical trade show setup--long days on the floor from 8 AM to 5 PM, followed by networking dinners and barhopping with colleagues. These events are always a mix of work and fun, and I enjoy catching up with old friends from different companies.

As I was telling my wife about the trip, Emily called her to catch up, which wasn't unusual for the two of them. They've been friends for years, and I often heard them chatting about everything from work to personal life. I could overhear snippets of their conversation, and then I heard my wife say, "That sounds like so much fun! You and Brad could meet up for dinner or drinks. He's always looking for excuses to use his expense account."

After my wife hung up with Emily, I asked her about the conversation. She explained that since Emily would be in Vegas for her education conference at the same time I was there, my wife had suggested we meet up for dinner. My wife mentioned that it might be fun, especially since Emily would have some free time after her sessions, and it would give us a chance to catch up. I felt a mix of curiosity and excitement, wondering how the evening would go. My wife seemed totally fine with it, and as we talked about it more, I could sense her eagerness for us to meet, which only added to my intrigue.

The first day of the event went as expected nothing out of the ordinary. I spent the day catching up with old friends and engaging in business talks, but I was just counting down the hours until I would see Emily later that evening. It had been a few years since we'd last met up, and I was genuinely excited to reconnect. We had agreed to meet in the lounge at the MGM Grand, near the front desk, thinking it would be the easiest spot to find each other. I was sitting in the lounge, sipping on an Old Fashioned, eagerly waiting for Emily. My wife had texted me a couple of times asking if I'd found her yet. I replied, saying I hadn't yet--our plan was to meet at 7:00 PM and it was still a few minutes before then. Just as I finished responding - I felt two arms wrap around my neck from behind followed by a friendly kiss on my cheek. As I turned around, there she was--one of the most stunning women in Vegas. We were both so excited to see each other after all this time. For a couple minutes we were talking over each other, both eager to catch up and share everything at once. We finally settled down and I was able to give her a proper hug and told her how great it was to see her. She returned the sentiment and we both took a seat. I flagged down the server and asked Emily what she wanted to drink. She ordered a glass of wine though I wasn't entirely sure what kind as I'm not much of a wine guy. All I knew was that when it arrived, it was a red.

Emily started talking about her kids, her husband, and all the exciting adventures they've been on. It was very clear how happy and fulfilled she is. But as she's speaking, I can't help but notice just how beautiful she looked tonight. Her makeup is perfectly applied--just enough to enhance her natural beauty without overwhelming it and I find that so appealing. There's nothing less attractive than when someone wears too much makeup. Emily has an effortless look of beauty that is a breath of fresh air.

Her blonde hair is styled perfectly, cascading down in soft waves. She's wearing a pink floral dress that complements her figure perfectly and was paired with matching pink high heels that immediately caught my eye. The heels are a huge turn-on for me. Especially since my wife doesn't wear heels often. To top it all off, she's wearing sheer tan or nude stockings that accentuated her toned legs. The shimmer of the stockings was catching even the faintest of light in the lounge. The way they gleamed with every movement adds a subtle, yet undeniable allure to her overall look.

I have a strong attraction to stockings and similar hosiery, including pantyhose, tights, and thigh highs. When my wife wears them, it gets me in the mood. I find them especially attractive and captivating.

I also noticed that Emily has stunning cleavage and a beautiful figure. I remembered that after she got married and had kids, she became self-conscious about her breast size, even though she looked great before. Eventually, she decided to have a procedure to enhance them, and I have to say, the results look fantastic!

As Emily talked, I can't help but notice her legs. I try to keep my thoughts in check, reminding myself that she's my wife's best friend and happily married with a family. Still, there's something about stockings that has always captivated me. As she chats about her son's baseball team, my mind begins to wander. I find myself wondering--are they stockings with a garter belt, clipped in place beneath her dress? Or are they stay-ups, hugging her thighs with lace? Maybe they're pantyhose, seamlessly covering her legs from waist to toe.

I tried to stay focused on the conversation, but every subtle movement distracts me--the way she crosses and uncrosses her legs, the soft, unmistakable whisper of nylon brushing against itself. My eyes follow the graceful curve of her legs, imagining the smooth texture beneath her dress. Then, she absentmindedly runs a hand along her thigh, adjusting the fabric of her dress slightly, and it sends my mind spinning further.

I caught myself, shaking off the thoughts. What am I doing? This is my wife's best friend. She has a family. I forced myself to snap back to reality, but the allure of stockings and the way she carries herself made it nearly impossible to ignore.

Luckily, my phone reminder went off, alerting us that it's time to head to our dinner reservation. I call the server over to close out the tab, and after a few moments, we settle the bill. Emily and I rise from our seats and began making our way toward the restaurant.

As we walked, I deliberately slowed my pace, reaching back toward the table to create a brief pause--just enough to let her step ahead of me. I can't help but admire how her dress hugs her figure and how her stocking-clad legs move gracefully with each step. Just as I'm caught in the moment, she glances back to see where I am. For a split second, our eyes meet, and I swear she notices where my gaze had been. A subtle, knowing smirk appears on her lips before she turns back around, leaving me wondering if she had caught me in the act.

I caught up to her, and we continued toward the restaurant, chatting casually and enjoying each other's company. As we passed the casino, she mentioned that she had never gambled before and was curious to try blackjack and craps. I told her that after dinner, we should play--both are my favorite games, and I'd love to teach her.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we were seated at a cozy booth--probably because the staff assumed we were a couple. It made sense; we both wore wedding rings, and with the way we were playfully flirting, there was no reason for them to think otherwise. We ordered another round of drinks, and as soon as they arrived, we clinked our glasses together, both grinning as we said, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," before taking a sip.

I could tell she was getting tipsy, and so was I. The lighthearted flirting between us felt natural, just the kind of playful energy that tends to surface after a few drinks. Sitting side by side in the booth, I couldn't resist the opportunity to feel the smooth texture of her stocking-clad leg. Seizing the moment, I casually dropped my napkin onto the floor. As I bent down to retrieve it, my hand lightly grazed her leg, the sheer fabric of her stockings felt soft and silky against my fingertips. The sensation sent a jolt through me, stirring something deep inside and my cock began to come to life.

Thankfully, the table provided some cover as I tried to compose myself. I took a steadying breath, forcing my mind to refocus on the conversation. I needed to keep my thoughts in check--after all, this was Emily, my wife's best friend.

By the time we finished dinner, it was around 9:00 PM. I asked Emily if she still wanted to try the casino tables, and she was all for it, mentioning that her first session tomorrow didn't start until 11 AM--meaning she was free to stay out as long as she wanted.

We made our way to the casino floor, scanning for an open table. The first available spot for two was at a blackjack table, where two young women and a married couple were already playing. We asked if we could join, and they warmly welcomed us. As we settled in, the others naturally assumed Emily and I were a couple, and rather than correct them, we just went along with it.

I pulled out a chair for Emily, and since these were high stools, she had to step up slightly to sit down. As she did, her skirt rode up just a bit, revealing more of her sheer, nude stocking-covered thigh. I quickly looked away, trying to stay composed, but I couldn't shake the thought that she hadn't adjusted her dress after sitting down--maybe on purpose.

We exchanged cash for chips and got started. As the game progressed, I guided Emily through the basics, helping her understand when to hit, stand, or double down. The others at the table seemed to enjoy our dynamic, even commenting on how we made a "cute couple." The two women next to Emily struck up a conversation with her, and before long, the three of them were chatting like old friends.

As the drinks kept coming and the mood grew even more relaxed, I felt a surge of confidence. Emily was engaged in conversation with the two girls at the table, so I decided to rest my hand lightly on her thigh, giving a small squeeze whenever it was her turn to play. The smooth silky feel of her stockings, combined with the warmth of her skin, sent a subtle thrill through me. To my surprise, she didn't seem to mind--if anything, she welcomed it. Each time her turn came around, I would gently pat or squeeze her leg as a playful reminder, and the two women beside her found it endearing, commenting on how sweet it was that I was taking care of my date. The night continued like this--good company, great energy, and the thrill of the game keeping us entertained. It was shaping up to be a night neither of us would soon forget.

Throwing caution to the wind, I let my hand rest on her thigh a little longer before slowly moving it up, tracing the smooth silky fabric of her stockings until I reached the hem of her dress. I fully expected her to stop me, maybe shoot me a look or whisper, 'What do you think you're doing?' But instead, she simply glanced at me with a knowing smile before returning to her conversation with the women beside her.

Emboldened by her reaction--or rather, her lack of resistance--I let my fingers wander just beneath the fabric of her dress, enough to realize she was wearing sheer-to-waist pantyhose rather than thigh-highs. The sensation was intoxicating--her legs felt so smooth and silky, the delicate material gliding effortlessly beneath my touch. My mind raced, and I knew that later, back in my room, I'd have to find a way to release some of this tension.

As if responding to my touch, she subtly parted her legs, a small yet unmistakable gesture that sent a jolt through me. Was this really happening? For years, I had harbored a quiet attraction to Emily, and now, here she was, offering this moment of unspoken connection. My fingertips ventured higher, and just as I reached the smooth nylon of what I assumed was the soft cotton panel covering her pussy, I caught the faintest hint of a devilish smile playing across her lips. I slowly grazed my finger over the cotton panel and ultimately felt the warm of her pussy.

I am totally blown away with what is happening. For 20 years I have wanted this girl and here she is letting me access to her stocking covered thighs and now her pussy! She is wearing nude pantyhose and heels which has been a major fantasy of mine. How am I going to make it through the night?

Before I could completely process what was unfolding, the dealer dealt both of us blackjacks, sending the entire table into a frenzy. Cheers erupted around us, breaking the spell. I instinctively pulled my hand back as we laughed and celebrated, the energy between us shifting but still charged. The two women beside Emily, caught up in the excitement, turned to me with playful grins and insisted, 'You have to kiss her to keep the luck going!'

For a moment, the thought flashed through my mind--Emily was my wife's best friend - a married woman and I a married man. But then another thought followed just as quickly: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Without hesitation, I leaned in, brushing my lips softly against hers, savoring the warmth and the unexpected tenderness of the moment. I let the kiss linger just enough to gauge her reaction. And then, she kissed me back--slow, deliberate, and mutual.

We continued playing blackjack, and before long, my hand found its way back to Emily's thigh. Each time she hit a blackjack, I leaned in and kissed her--a playful tradition that quickly escalated. With every win, the kisses grew more heated, lingering just a little longer each time.

As the night stretched on, the energy at the table began to dwindle. By 1 AM, the two women and the young couple we had been playing with decided to call it a night, leaving just Emily and I at the table. The once-lively atmosphere had quieted, and with it, the charged momentum between us seemed to settle.

We both laughed about how much we had been drinking and agreed it was probably best to head back to our rooms. After all, we still had two more nights in Vegas--no sense in spending all our money and energy on the first one.

Emily was staying at Paris, and I insisted on walking her back--after all, the Strip isn't exactly a place for a woman to walk alone at this hour. We grabbed another drink for the road and set off, falling into easy conversation once again. We talked about everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company as the neon lights of Vegas flickered around us. The walk felt too short, and as we arrived at her hotel, disappointment hit me--I didn't want the night to end just yet. We lingered in conversation as we made our way through the lobby, and before I knew it, we were standing at her door. A quiet tension settled between us. We were both married, both aware of where we were and what this moment could mean.

Breaking the silence, Emily gave me a knowing look and asked, 'Would you like to come in for one last drink before heading back?'

There was no hesitation. 'I'd love to,' I said, following her inside to her hotel room.

Once in her room - I walked over to the mini fridge, grabbed a beer for myself and a glass of red wine for Emily. As I turned around, I saw her settle onto the couch, tucking her legs up beneath her while still wearing her heels. There was something effortlessly elegant--yet undeniably alluring--about the way she sat. Her pink heels against the soft glow of the room, paired with the sheer nude pantyhose, created a sight I couldn't look away from. I felt like I stood there for minutes just taking it in, though in reality, it was only a moment before I made my way over to sit beside her.

We clinked our glasses together, echoing the phrase we'd been repeating all night: 'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.'

Blame it on the drinks or the moment, but I finally spoke the thought that had been lingering in my mind. 'Emily, I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way, but I can't stop looking at your legs. They're stunning. Absolutely beautiful. I've always had a thing for pantyhose and heels, and yours are... well, they're perfect.'

I felt my face flush as I realized how openly I had just admitted that.

Emily smiled, her expression playful yet knowing. 'I noticed,' she said. 'Back at the lounge, I caught you sneaking glances at my legs more than once.'

Feeling emboldened, I asked, 'Would you mind if I gave you a foot rub?'

Without hesitation, she stretched out her legs, resting them across my lap. My breath hitched slightly as I carefully removed her heels, revealing her pantyhose-covered feet. They looked delicate, the sheer fabric shimmering softly under the light. I am not usually one to be fixated on feet, but at that moment, the sight was captivating.

I placed her right foot gently in my lap while bringing her left foot into my hands, slowly massaging it. The silky texture of the pantyhose against my fingers was almost unbearable. As I worked my way up to her calves, completely lost in the moment, I barely registered the quiet sigh that escaped me--until I realized Emily had begun subtly pressing her other foot against my crotch. She began to slowly massage my now hardening cock with her right foot. It felt amazing and all I wanted was more. I had fantasized about this girl for 20 plus years and now I am sitting in a hotel room in Las Vegas with her.