Finally, a weekend for the two of us. My wife, Carla and I alone for the first time in almost five years. We convinced her parents they could take care of our two kids for the weekend.
Here we are a weekend for the two of us, and what are we doing, driving halfway across the state for one of Carla's friends birthday parties! We should be celebrating her new job rather than driving to some person's party whom I don't even know!
"So when does the party start?" I ask as we approach town. "Oh, not until 7 tonight, but we need to check in to the hotel and get cleaned up first." she says.
That's the bright note in this weekend trip, a night alone with my wife in a hotel room. No fear of the kids hearing or walking in. The object of my desire, my wife of nine years, a tall (5'11") long-legged (36" inseam) red-haired beauty. At 40 we have both aged rather well, her 34DD breasts, while desirable by many men, trust me I have seen the looks, are nothing compared to her long legs and in my opinion, her perfect ass. Since having two kids her hips have rounded out making her ass and legs the objects of many of my sexual desires.
So yes, a night alone with her in a hotel is making the whole trip worthwhile..even if I have to suffer through some birthday party.
"Turn in here" Carla suddenly asks, breaking my thoughts. It's a mini-mall with a liquor and discount store. She didn't say we needed to bring booze to this thing, I should have guessed. "We need to get our evening 'attire'" Carla notes.
Wandering down the aisle of the discount store I expect us to head to the womens section, rather we end up in bedding. "What's this all about?" I ask. Carla responds by picking up a king size low grade fabric sheet. "Pick out the sheet you want to wear" she says. Then she enlightens me, "Oh that's right, I forgot to mention. Tonights party is a toga party."
Toga party! Oh hell, I haven't been to one of those since college. We grab our respective sheets and off to the hotel to check in and 'wrap' ourselves.
"Why didn't you tell me this party was a toga party?" I ask. "Because, I wanted it to be a surprise to you. Not to mention I didn't want you all worried about other guys seeing me in a toga." she says. Which is right, guys are always looking at her, now it will be easier.
Checking in at the hotel my mind races with thoughts of wrapping Carla in her sheet, or rather unwrapping her. Before I even get the bags in the room Carla notes, "Now before you get any ideas, we are already running late and we need time to figure out how to wrap these damn sheets."
Carla's toga wraps around her curves deliciously, modesty has her wearing one of her sport bras. Mine drapes nicely over my arms and covers me.
I have to admit it is a bit embarrassing crossing the hotel lobby dressed like a Roman senator, but watching the other men looking at Carla makes it all worthwhile.
The drive to the party is sadly uneventful, my caressing hand is held at mid-thigh by your hand. Arriving at the party I am happy to see that we are all suitably dressed and looking rather ridiculous. But then, some of the ladies do warrant a second look.
This is an opportunity for me to meet some of the people you work with while marketing this side of the state. Finally a face to place with the name.
The birthday boy, Jim, offers me a drink and tour of their home. Carla mentioned to me that she think they are 'swingers', which I must admit has me somewhat intrigued. How does one ask that question of another without feeling too out of place?