NOTE: This is a long Loving Wife story. Knowing that, please don't complain about it being long. I hope you enjoy it.
*****
It had been a somewhat long day of travel for my wife. She had quite enough driving for one day. As she was getting nearer her destination, thoughts of showering up and having a decent meal were all she could focus on. Finally, she arrived. The hotel registration was mercifully quick. She went back outside to park the car. She hoped this would be the last time in the car until it was time to go home in a few days. She pulled two large suitcases and a back pack out of the trunk. She stared at them, then muttered a quiet expletive. She was accustomed to traveling with me. Having me around meant that she didn't have to lug her shit around. She could always go to the room, while I brought up the bags. Not today.
For the first time since we had been married, she was traveling alone. As if the bags weren't insult enough, as she closed the trunk, she was reminded that she still had to park the car elsewhere. Why did she take them out already? Now faced with the prospect of finding a spot in the parking structure then dragging the bags upstairs, she remembered me telling her, "You've got plenty of money for the trip. Don't scrimp." She smiled and whispered, "Screw it." She summoned a bellhop to take her stuff to the room and a valet to park the car. She thought to herself, "I'm not going to need the car until it's time to go home. I might as well let it be their headache."
She followed the bellhop up to her room. He unloaded her bags then explained some things about the room etc. She wasn't listening. She tipped him and closed the door behind him. She flopped on the bed for what should have been a minute or so. Instead, she started to sink into actual sleep. She bolted awake just as she was about to drift off for good. She still needed to unpack before she could relax. At some point she was going to have bathe and decide where to eat. She also needed to organize tomorrow's schedule.
After hanging things up, putting things into drawers, and littering the bathroom countertop with stuff, it was time for her shower. She savored the calm of warm water and the sensation of being perfectly clean. It was only after she was drying off that she noticed she had forgotten deodorant. Should she skip it tonight? Or should she just go get it now? There was no sense putting it off. She threw on sweat bottoms and an old football jersey of mine (her version of pajamas) and went out in search of deodorant. She felt a little self-conscious at the prospect of being braless but putting one on just for a quick trip to the gift shop seemed silly. She had changed her mind about going out for dinner tonight. Room service was sounding damn good at that moment. And that meant no dressing up, no makeup, and, especially no bra.
She quickly found a travel sized container of deodorant. It wasn't the brand she wanted, but it would have to do. Some yummy truffles caught her eye. There was no sense using the card just for one little item. Except for the cashier, the shop was vacant. She had her bag of stuff and was heading back to the room. The unease she felt of being braless began to subside completely.
She was the only one waiting for the elevator. The door opened, she slid in quickly, pushed the button for her floor, and waited for the doors to close. Before the doors could close, people appeared and started filing into the elevator. First an older couple, each with a bag, took up position. They told her which floor button to push. The doors started to close. A hand reached in and forced the doors back open. It was a guy about her age (that she would later describe to me as 'pleasant looking'). He seemed intent on pushing his own button rather than have her do it. Facing the rear of the elevator, he took up position between my wife and the couple. She was suddenly very self-conscious about being braless. The guy had noticed her condition. He wasn't glaring, but he glanced at her chest and it was obvious he noticed. He pivoted to face the door. As the door began to close, yet another hand was thrown into the gap. My wife said to herself, "Holy shit! Am I ever going to get back to my room?" The door yielded, and another older lady bulled her way into the middle of everyone. The door finally shut, and the elevator moved upwards. The latest arrival hurriedly reached for the floor panel. As she reached for her button, clutching her carry-on bag, a bit of a multi-vehicle collision ensued. The guy standing next to my wife was struck by the lady's carry-on bag. The force of it nearly bowled him over because it struck him square in his nether regions. He reflexively buckled and took half a step back. One hand was shielding his undercarriage. The elbow of his opposite arm sunk about two inches into my wife's left tit. Being self-conscious about being braless was pointless now.
Both my wife and the guy let out simultaneous groans of discomfort. The other passengers only noticed the guy taking a shot to the nuts. My wife thought it best to say nothing. After a few stops the other people had found their floor. My wife and the guy ended up being the only ones left. He quickly mumbled some type of apology, she reflexively said, "It's okay." The next floor was hers.
After getting back to her room, she finally got around to sending me a text that read, "Got here in one piece. All checked in. I've been here about an hour and already another man has touched one of my boobs Are you jealous?"
After a few minutes I called asking for clarification, rather than texting. She told me what happened. We both had a good laugh about it. I told her, "You do have my permission to flirt and maybe misbehave a little."
In a slightly coy tone she answered, "Oh, I know."
In a slower, deliberate tone I said, "I'm being serious. It's okay if you have a little naughty fun." She said nothing for a moment, so I changed the subject by saying, "You said you felt a little weird about being braless."
She said, "Well yeah. Plus, it was more than just a little embarrassing getting elbowed."
I continued, "But before that."
"Before what?" she answered.
I continued, "Before he elbowed your boob, you said that you were feeling awkward. Why?"
She paused before answering, "Because the fabric on the jersey is a little clingy, and he saw the outline of my breasts and nipples."
I asked, "Yet, it wasn't an issue when you first went down to the gift shop."
"Because it was a female clerk." she answered.
I paused again before saying, "But you didn't know that before you went down. Besides, you knew you would certainly encounter a guy at some point."
She answered, "Well of course." Then for a few seconds she said nothing before continuing, "I found him attractive. So, maybe that would explain my nipples doing their thing."
I repeated my earlier statement, "I told you that you can flirt and misbehave a little."
This time she made no protestations and only answered, "I'll think about it. Right now. I am hungry, so I am going to just order a pizza and call it a night." We exchanged some more small talk then hung up.
She got through about three slices of pizza before having enough. She brushed her teeth, got a drink of water, then climbed into bed.
By the time morning rolled around she was well rested and hungry. She eyed up the leftover pizza and shook her head 'no'. The convention didn't get rolling until after lunch, so she had a few hours before she had to be there. She thought about ordering room service but didn't feel like waiting. She showered, got dressed, got her hair just so, then applied her make-up. Even though she was anxious to eat, she didn't want to look like a 'dead mommy' while she ate.
The hotel had a complimentary breakfast buffet that was winding down. Most of the diners had already eaten their fill and left. She toyed with the idea of piling nothing but bacon onto her plate, but opted for some healthier options. She found a seat that faced the buffet line. While she was sipping her OJ and planning her day, the 'boob-smasher' entered and grabbed a plate. He started throwing a mountain of bacon on his plate. My wife reflexively snickered loud enough that he looked up towards her. She lifter her orange juice in toasting. He smiled back.
After he finished piling up his plate, he walked up to her table and said, "I see that we have both recovered from yesterday's little incident."
My wife smiled knowingly and said, "I was caught off guard by your elbow, but it looked like you took a direct hit from the bag. Are you okay?"
He answered, "Well, I was a little nauseated for a few minutes. I realized later that you probably..."
My wife interrupted him mid-sentence with a chuckle and saying, "I promise that I am quite all right. I am glad you are feeling better. You don't have to say you are sorry again."
Even though she had absolved him of his sins he still felt the need to offer contrition by saying, "I'm glad I bumped into you again. That way I can apologize properly."