Why did I agree to accompany the young salesman to his hotel room? Over the previous four years, in many hotels I had received countless similar propositions but every time had left rejected suitors behind, including several both better looking and more persuasive than Richard, my companion for the night. Was it because Richard seemed relatively inexperienced compared to the majority, was it because I had perhaps grown sexually frustrated at home or was it simply because when my husband had spoken the two words, 'I'm easy', I decided that I would also be easy but in my own way.
I've been married for eight years. John my husband and I were working for the same firm when we met but as there was a strict no fraternisation between staff rule contact had been limited to casual conversations. But then we bumped into each other in a nightclub when we were both in an inebriated condition, at the end of which I finished up on my back on the rear seat of his car. From then on we were an item but for a time we had to keep this fact very discrete. Maybe due to this restriction we got married very quickly, at which point the firm came up trumps by both laying on and paying for the reception.
John was in many ways the dream man, tall dark handsome and very intelligent. Also at the start he was a tiger in bed, making up in boundless enthusiasm for what he possibly lacked in skill. I must admit that that I had been a bit wild, especially at university, so I was not lacking in experience but I always suspected that my hubby had enjoyed less exposure to the opposite sex. I had been with better hung men and although this was one respect in which John was less than perfect, he still had more than enough to work with.
I think that the boss Tom developed a soft spot for the pair of us although he never said anything overtly. John and I both progressed until after four years we were both head of our own departments. Although this resulted in a handsome combined salary there was a downside in that we both now needed to travel to liaise with different clients. I tended to average at least two three day trips every month with John doing about the same and as these away times seldom seemed to overlap we often spent over a third of every month apart. Even though this routine began to leave me feeling sexually deprived, despite the constant opportunity, I never dreamed of cheating because I loved my husband too much.
Even at home things started to deteriorate. We had built up a wide social circle and the reciprocal round of entertainment ate into our already limited together time. John had become a golf fanatic and played every Sunday. I didn't mind that but he invariably stayed too many hours in the club house afterwards, to eventually stagger home good for nothing except sleep. Add in extra hours put in at work and we were making love no more than once a week and even then I felt that John was only doing his duty because he seemed to get very little pleasure out of it.
The Ideal Homes Exhibition at Earls Court was coming up and the firm always had a major presence. This year it was my job to go down several days in advance to get everything set up with the rest of the sales employees following at the end of the week. There was a general meeting of all staff to discus aims and objectives at the end of which, when the others had left, Tom looked at John and offered, "You can go down with your wife if you like. Do you want to or would you prefer to travel down with the others?"
I immediately saw that Tom was throwing us a gratuitous perk because with John and I spitting the work, it would leave time for sightseeing, not to mention the chance to take in some West End shows. It could easily be made into a very pleasant romantic holiday in which to re-establish contact between us. I had to suppress a smile at the thought of my husband leaping at the chance. Instead, to my amazement, he just shrugged his shoulders and said, "I'm easy, whatever you think."
I saw the puzzlement on the boss's face as he asked, "What have you got on to keep you up here?"
"I was planning to tie up the Bowyer contract early."
"But there's no urgency on that," Tom protested, "I fact it's one of the few contracts where being a bit late doesn't matter. "
"I know that but I wanted to clear the decks ready for that Hatton project next month," John explained sufficiently to end the exchange.
I was seething because I knew that was a very threadbare excuse and I was sure that Tom was equally aware of that fact. Despite this I said nothing to John after the meeting and we carried on with a semblance of normality until I travelled down to London alone on the Sunday night. It was the following night that I found myself following Richard to his room. It is only fair to point out that I had enjoyed other mini encounters over the years. I had found that dancing the slow ones in a close embrace and even a bit of kissing helped rapport and created an ambiance for the evening but I always slept alone. Now I was about to break my rule.
I had gradually come to accept that my marriage was on the slide, either because my husband no longer fancied me or because he had found one or more others that he fancied more. His turning down the chance to spend a week alone with me in the capital seemed the final confirmation. However, even though I had resigned myself to the fact that John was cheating on me, when I went down to the bar to relax on that Monday night, I had no conscious plans to pay him back in his own coin.
I am 5' 6" tall with medium length, wavy, mid blonde hair. I have pretty decent legs and tits but, like most women I think my bum is too big. In the early years John used to think the opposite, insisting that it was my best feature, saying how much he loved the thrusting roundness especially in high heels. From the attention that dance partners give to my bottom and the lustful glances of many men, I don't think he's alone in that opinion.
Richard was about 5' 10 tall with a chunky build, thick, brown curly hair and a pleasing face. What attracted my attention was that although he looked to have a lot to offer he didn't have the stamp of a player. He and I were both sitting alone at adjacent tables, sipping our respective drinks. It must have been nearly twenty minutes before he spoke and then only because he caught my gaze upon him. That fact alone confirmed my opinion that he wasn't active in the hotel scene.
Although I now had suspicions, I had long thought the same of my husband. He was as straight as a die and I used to believe that he was incapable of lying and that was one of the main things that made me love him so much. Unfortunately as an experienced observer of lonely people in weekday hotels, I could see how constant exposure to temptation could have eroded that element of his character. There were always fun loving young women who calculated that more mature men on expense accounts offered more prospect of a good time than poverty stricken fellow students. Then there were the attractive hookers touting for trade, not to mention the wives with husbands lurking nearby. Voyeuristic partners who got some sort of thrill watching their wives dirty dancing and being groped by other men, and even sneaking up to hotel rooms for a carnal interlude.
Richard and I conducted a remote conversation for a few sentences until he spontaneously got up and moved to my table, politely hesitating for permission before sitting down opposite me. A few sentences later I returned the favour by moving to the chair next to his when a sudden surge in volume from the adjacent ball room made it too hard to hear. A short while later, after sitting with heads huddled together; we gave up the fight and joined the dancers next door. Fortuitously, the moment we arrived, the band switched to a long sequence of much quieter slow tempo tunes. I melted into his arms and immediately felt that I belonged. It was obvious from the first moment that he was already highly aroused from the hardness pressing against my thigh but it wasn't until I felt my own corresponding wetness that I first realised that I intended to fuck him.
We shared two full sets of three tunes each. During that time there was no actual kissing or unnecessary touching, but I think that from very early on we shared an unspoken acknowledgement of how the evening would end. When the band went back to disco beat we left but instead of going back into the bar, Richard headed for the stairs, with me following a discreet few paces behind. Walking down the long corridor leading to his room, I was filled with anticipation and intense excitement, knowing that I was about to have sex with another man for the first time in nearly ten years. I kept the hair on my pussy closely trimmed, preferring a sparser look to a thick bush but for the past two years it was hardly worth the effort, now I was very glad I'd taken the trouble.
The moment that the door closed behind us we were in a passionate embrace, complete with open mouthed kissing but both of us knowing that this was not what we were there for and started ripping off each others clothes, although to be accurate it was more a case of him unwrapping me than me than me undressing him. As soon as I was nearly naked he released me and I took a step backwards, only to impact the edge of the bed with the backs of my legs and fall backwards onto the covers. In a flash Richard's head was between my thighs, seeming to have made my remaining panties disappear as if by magic. However, what magic there was in that room that night resided in his tongue because I had never felt anything quite like it. I think that I had my first orgasm within a minute but it is hard to remember because so many were to follow.
I used to think that John was particularly good at this and he actually declared many times that with me it was his favourite sexual activity. Sadly, prior to this night it was a full two years since he had last eaten me. I think it was that which marked the start of our sexual decline. Now I was ending a two year drought with the joy of a master class in cuninglingus from Richard. As the night progressed and he proved to be an expert lover in almost every aspect of sexual activity, I began to doubt my early belief that he would prove a relative novice at the lovemaking game. It was impossible for him to have become so practiced without a great deal of experience at the seduction game.
The moment that Richard eventually paused for breath I quickly squirmed around, almost getting my legs tangled in my eagerness to reciprocate. I used to love having a cock in my mouth, the taste, the texture, the throbbing excitement and the knowledge that I could have a male under absolute control awaiting the whim of my tongue. Semen was a different matter, sometimes it was delicious other times somewhat less so and it was one of the misfortunes of life that my husband fell into the latter category.
