Good thing I slept with a box of tissues next to the bed, because I woke up often that night, and every time I woke up I was horny, and had to do something about it. I wasn't thinking about the morality of all this, you kidding? It was lust, pure lust, premium grade. I wouldn't even let myself think of Sam as my wife, but my mind was firmly locked on the image of her delicious body spread wide on a bed, with some stranger pounding his hard cock into her over and over as she screamed out in ecstasy, and, let me tell you, folks, it just excited_the_HELL out of me. Must have used up half the box.
The next day just dragged on. I could hardly keep still. I could hardly keep soft. Then dinner with my class mates, more being 'open and honest' and more 'really communicating'. Big deal. It was probably great, but I was greatly distracted, big time.
6:30 came, and I ran to the room. Sam was waiting, in bed, wearing just one of my ties like Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman". "Come here, big boy. Tell me all about this hooker fantasy of yours."
It looked like she had the same frame of mind I did. I wasted no time getting into bed. We banged into each other, grunting like animals. I wasn't being fair, though. I knew her too well, and I knew how to bring her to the edge of organism, hold her there, but not offer that last instant of release. Finally she asked what got into me.
"Here's the deal, Sam. I'm going to see if Bill, this guy I met, is around. I'll have a drink with him in the lounge. You come in, and I'll introduce you as this woman I met from Ohio, and after a while, I'll leave. He thinks you sometimes get off on vacation by picking up someone.Oh, and he thinks you are very uninhibited, too. I really built you up. You, Little Ms Hooker, will then be on your own. Let's see just how much the open market will pay for your twitching, bewitching body."
"Don, I know you're making this up. You're making all of this up as you go along. I thought the sex we just had would have settled you down. If you're joking, you lose the bet. That's 300 bucks, pal. Wanna call it off, now? Okay, buddy, I'll play your little game, I'll give you a half hour head start before I come down. I want to shower and change clothes, anyway. Oh, and, hundreds are ok, but I prefer twenties."
I placed a room to room call. "Bill, it's Don. Glad I caught you in. If you are up to it, I think I owe you a drink. Want to meet me downstairs in a couple of minutes? Great, see you there!"
Sam, listening, was laughing. "I think you were just talking to a dial tone, cowboy! Com'on, 'fess up!"
"See you soon, baby, and for the next couple of hours I won't be thinking of you as my wife, but as what we managers call a 'performing asset', . . oh, with emphasis on the 'ass' part!"
I saw Bill at the bar, signaled for a martini, and a refill for him, and we started talking about the differences in the seminars we were attending. Bill seemed a little distracted, though.
"Hey Bill, I'm here, among other things, to learn to be 'a perceptive, good listener'. So, what's bothering you?"
"Ah, the usual. Lackanooky. No cure in sight, either."
"Well, you'll be home soon."
And that, boys and girls, is what we professional salespeople call a put-away close. A slam-dunk.
"Not soon enough. I can't even roll over at night, my cock's been like a damn kick stand lately."
A few minutes later Bill excused himself - "Need to find the head".
I watched him leave, and saw Sam standing at the doorway. She waited for him to pass, then walked over to me. She looked great: a dark, fairly long, full skirt that outlined her legs as she walked, short sleeved cotton blouse. Fairly high heels.
And, yes, she did still turn heads, not that she noticed.
She'd have turned a lot more if anyone had any idea of what we had been talking about and planning.
"Is that the guy you were telling me about - and think fast, Don, because if it is, why did he just leave?"
"Yes, he's the one. He's gone to the men's room, but he'll be back in a couple of minutes. God, you look great. How much for a night's fun, baby? What's the going rate?"
"Well, sailor, for you, $2, and then $298 because you'd lose the bet, too."
"What do you think of old Bill?"
