Stacy walked into the bar with a sigh. It wasn't a busy night, and she almost turned around to go back home. Home. The word held different meaning these days. Things had changed. She had crossed an invisible line, and knew she couldn't go back.
It was that convention last year in Philadelphia. She hadn't wanted to go. She wanted to stay home with her husband Bill, but her boss insisted she represent the company this time. She had begged off the previous three events that should have been her turn. It wasn't her fault, though! She had to stay home last June, it was her daughter's wedding weekend. And the September conference in Cleveland conflicted with the trip to Maui her husband had been planning for a year, an 35th Anniversary gift to them both. Then there was the October sales meeting in Dallas when Bill had just broken his arm, and she had asked to stay home to help him cope. Philly was on their actual anniversary, and her boss just raised an eyebrow when she asked to be excused. She got the hint, and took the trip.
Stacy ordered her go-to cocktail, a margarita and scanned the room for prospects. Too old. Too fat. Too bald. Too in love with the woman he was with. She sighed again. Perhaps things would pick up. It would be a shame to go through all the trouble of dressing up, fixing her hair, and making herself up, and then spend the night alone. She missed Bill's company when she was on the road, and her thoughts turned back to Philadelphia.
She went to the conference. She represented her company well, and signed several new clients. She grinned remember how she had felt knowing there would be a handsome commission check that month. She wanted to celebrate. She called Bill, but remembered he had gone to their son's college to visit on parents' weekend. She celebrated alone in her hotel's bar. She wasn't alone long.
His name was Alexander. He went by Xander. She remembered him as "Philadelphia.' She was coy when they met. He asked to join her at her table for one, and she didn't agree readily. He was polite, and charming and she played hard to get, while he played get it hard. Her flagrant exhibition of her wedding ring didn't slow him down. Her declarations of 'having never done this before" didn't slow him down. Her admonishments that she couldn't do this to her husband met with indifference. Her concession to his determination was accompanied by the condition that he only stay for a short time was quickly agreed to.
Once in her room, he took her into his arms and pressed himself to her while invading her mouth with his tongue. She relaxed into his embrace, but secretly lamented there husband's gentle touch. She was celebrating her success on the night before her anniversary with a handsome and obviously virile stranger, and could think of nothing but Bill. But her lover had no idea of her melancholy, and as he quickly stripped them both, Stacy's thoughts of Bill faded into nothingness.
What "Philadelphia" lacked in finesse he compensated for in physical strength. Stacy found herself losing reality, and getting lost in the sensual feast she was feeling. The cock that her lover wielded was welcomed deep into her mouth, a pleasure she rarely afforded her husband. She found herself making love to a cock. She had felt no connections to the man. And could have cared less how he felt, but she was keenly in sync with his splendid penis. Every twitch was met with a subtle chance in pressure from her lips, or a delicate flick of the tongue along the glans that couldn't miss coaxing another moan from the man attached to the meat. It felt like the cock was in her mouth for hours, and for all she now knew it could have been. His slow, long thrusts were delicious, and she savored it with all her senses. She savored the taste, and the way it varied across the length of the organ. She craved heat of the man, the way his wiry pubic hair tickled her face as he bottomed out in her throat. The way the cock filled her throat was consuming, once she accustomed herself and relaxed in order to negate her gag reflex. His musky smell engulfed her.
Then he fucked her. He was bigger than Bill. Not longer, but his girth fascinated her. The way his cock stretched her reminded her of the way Bill would use his hands to stretch her out while licking her so lovingly. Thoughts of Bill swam together with the sensations of her lovers powerful thrusts, and she came. "Philadelphia" took this as a sign of his superior skill, and his thrusts became frantic. Stacy felt her body take over completely, and soon she was fucking back just as hard. She came again, and again.
"Philadelphia" was insatiable. He rebounded so quickly, Stacy wasn't sure she ever stopped fucking. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, she fell asleep with a faint thought slipping through her mind.
"It's after midnight. It's our anniversary."
She woke up with a start, thinking she should call Bill. But it was late. "Philadelphia" was sound asleep, gently snoring beside her. She couldn't bring herself to talk to Bill in the presence of a lover. She would call in the morning.
Stacy missed her morning. She woke to the feeling of the previous nights' thick cock pressing against her asshole. She had never allowed anal with Bill, or with any of the lovers she had known before marrying. She pulled away with a start, and asked him to leave.
"But last night was beautiful! Let me love you today too. Wait, I'll call room service and order lunch. You'll feel better after eating."
"Lunch! What time...! Shit! I slept until 1:00! I have to call Bill! And you have to go!"
"You can't just leave me like this!"
She detested whiners, even naked whiners with attractive erections. She informed him under no uncertain terms that she had offered a quickie, and had fulfilled that promise, and it was time for him to go.
As he left, she turned her phone on. "Shit! 5 messages from Bill last night after midnight. 12 messages this morning. The 5 he left at noon were followed by a simple text. "Happy Anniversary?"
She quickly tapped out a return text. "Happy Anniversary, Honey! Can you talk now?"
No answer. She turned the sound up to full and dashed to the shower. No answer. She quickly washed away the evidence of last night's debauchery, and dried off while looking at her text screen. No answer. She brushed her teeth, and then her hair, and threw on clothing, then raced downstairs to meet with her prospective clients.
Her late morning cost her two such prospects. While she was sleeping off the effects of her all nighter, two prospects committed to a competitor. Worse yet, the conference was closing down after morning sessions. Who knows how many additional contracts she might have delivered. She still had enough to make the trip a success, but...no...it wasn't. She had slipped up with Bill. He loved wishing her happy birthday, Merry Christmas, even happy 4th of July at the stroke of midnight. What must he be thinking?
No answer. He never failed to answer a text from her within an hour, and it had been two. Sadly she packed her belongings and joined the exodus of conference attendees in the courtesy busses heading to the airport.
She tried to call. She tried to text. But there was no answer from her husband. Suddenly she her marriage might not survive, and she felt the weight of her guilt heavy on her shoulders. She arrived at the airport, only to find out there were delays nationwide due to a storm down south. Her plane was stranded on the tarmac in Tampa, waiting for strong winds to subside before continuing shuttling its human cargo first to Charlotte, then to Philadelphia where she would bore the home leg to Boston. Text after text, call after call, she longed to hear his cheery voice with an anniversary greeting. Finally, defeated, she sulked to the terminal bar to drown her in a little scotch and a lot of regret.
She was no sooner served than she felt a presence and was aware of a man sliding onto the stool beside her at the minuscule cocktail table. She hadn't looked up before his hand slid a small box in front of her. She looked up to see her husband's smiling eyes. The box held a beautiful locket with their wedding picture and an inscription that read "Forever."
"Happy Anniversary Stace."
Astonished that he was here, she flung her arms around him, feeling the guilt-weight vanish. He had heard about the storm on the news earlier in the day, and when they started talking about delays, he had hopped the southbound Acela from Boston.