Jersey Excursion Ch 01

This is a story of a woman trying the bounds of her comfort zone after encouragement of her husband and a friend.

*

Lynn's outlook had changed over the years. Once happy and fulfilled in her marriage, after having kids she found her life not just lackluster, but lost. As a full time homemaker and stay at home mom, she likened herself to a saddled horse with different riders climbing on and off virtually every conscious moment.

With her husband's business eating away more of his time and his interests turning to watching sports instead of watching her, Lynn felt worse than isolated. She felt forgotten and unloved. This had come up before, but both her and her husband's attempts at sustained intimacy waned long ago, especially after his lack of interest made it appear he wasn't attracted to her anymore.

When they did have sex, it had become a brief work out for him, leaving him spent and breathless and her wishing that time back for sleep or reading.

'How could he be so big, muscular, attractive; clearly testosterone driven, and have no interest in me anymore? I'm actually still quite the looker...' she correctly romanticized staring at her heaving breasts with large areola -- nipples piqued straight out -- flat belly and freshly shaven fountainhead above her still un-birthed and virgin tight vagina.

While she didn't have a choice in the matter she thought, 'everyone should go the C-section route, a look of bemusement crossing her face. The slight remaining scar from the procedures almost winking, an inviting smile luring attention lower - if only anyone were around to notice.

She thought this would be a waste of time and money but had purchased some attire to heighten her natural voluptuous beauty: to stand her 5'1" frame taller and straighter, to accentuate her natural curves to call out as they had in her younger years.

There was a time when Lynn could have anyone she wanted, anytime she wanted. Her build was perfectly adorned to attract and capture prey. She carried large round breasts with attentive large, dark pink nipples. Just enough hip to grab onto, as a high school girl might. Slender, sleek, the strong muscles in her arms still betrayed the "triceps wing" most of her friends complained about.

Shaking their arms accentuating the sag that had developed as time will bring, admonishing the appearance of something that actually flaps on their bodies, asking,

"What the hell is that? Where did that come from? Will I be able to fly in a few more years?"

At 41, Lynn was still tight as a drum. She was toned and displayed an 8 pack even though she did little to work out. And for whatever reason found herself not just longing for days gone by when she could buy a boy anytime she wanted; but now finding her sex drive was building as she grew older. She had talked with her husband, Jim, about this recently.

As always, he was attentive and loving and apologetic, promising he would try anything to make her happy. Assuring her she was more beautiful than the day they married, and she was the only one for him. Tonight of course, wasn't a good enough time, but it wasn't like it was the first 'not good enough time. '

This was different though. They had just had this talk. They were finally alone without the kids, in a faraway place, and instead of taking advantage of his promise he had excused himself to the bar to watch football. His fantasy team had made the playoffs.

Lynn tried to ignore the heat between her legs, the small knot just below her ribs that had been gnawing all day thinking of tonight. She had been anticipating Jim's...not suggestions really...but about things he had on his mind sexually after she opened the door to this conversation.

Though she had never experienced or fantasized about the kinds of things he brought up she found them intriguing. In its way it was stimulating that he thought about this unknown territory in his secret mind...and she really wanted tonight to be the night to try a new thing or two, regardless of who held the agenda.

She tried to keep in mind Jim's explanation of the build-up, how delaying and giving time to tangential fantasy might create stimulation and release beyond what they've experienced previously. But Lynn had become accustomed to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it, and there was no telling when the build-up might end.

'He could be down there for 6 hours,' she thought to herself, knowing two games were on tonight and they took about 3 hours apiece.

'What's a little hot wife to do with all that time?' She went on in her head not even realizing her hands were slowly kneading her breasts, rolling and tweaking her protruding nipples.

As she watched herself in the mirror her right hand slid slowly down her belly, coming to rest over her mons. She began to lightly stroke up and down over the soft flesh, for the first time appreciating for herself the look and feel of how young and fresh her newly bared area felt.

'Maybe I can't pass as a high school girl anymore,' she thought, 'But with a little makeup and the right clothes I could easily bring off a 20 something.' After all, she was carded all the time to see if she was old enough to enter certain venues.

This thought heightened her arousal and she watched as two fingers slipped lower, making a V over her clit and spreading her folds. It was then she realized how wet she was, almost dripping. And hot. The heat from her loin radiated, warming her hand which set off a chain reaction.

It rose slowly, throbbing up her arm and into her shoulder, curving down her torso - meeting the same sensation that had begun climbing up her belly at the same rate -- meeting just there -- at that knot just below her chest, at the top center of her stomach.

She was becoming even more aroused and had to make a decision then and there. She could finger herself to let off the tension and wait to see if her husband had any desire to give her more when he finally came back, or try to get out for some other kind...the kind she used to receive as easily as flipping a coin.

But that was not without its dangers. She was basically stranded at this New Jersey hotel in the dead of winter once again. She didn't have much choice to leave as this would greatly disturb Jim once he discovered it. She also couldn't get dolled up and start flirting with the bar crowd in the lobby.

No doubt she would receive whatever she wanted, but Jim was down there and, given his nose, he would run across her flirting in her effort to satisfy the same thing he said he felt was lacking in their relationship, spice. It wasn't that she had any desire to cheat; she just wanted to feel wanted and sexy. Her bad girl underneath, buried for so long, to be sniffed out and chased.

It had almost become a matter of amusement to her that her otherwise perceptive husband had never detected this darker side of her, at least that he let on.

Lynn decided on a compromise made easier by her husband's jaunts and suggestions on this subject. She could spice things up on her own. Find a more public place in this hauntingly quiet hotel to further her body's clear, expectant and wanting ambitions.

Much to her surprise, in their recent discussions, Jim had confessed that it turned him on to think of her more openly displayed in public. He simply stated that she was a really hot "MILF" and that having other men desire her charms set off a spark in him...that he would like to see other men pining after his beloved and sexy wife.

He went on to describe experiences in which he indulged that invited such voyeurism, safe but still with inviting possibilities, sometimes of being caught. In his travels there were times he would masturbate in front of a window, or on a balcony, sometimes with people close enough he could make out their conversations. But, he qualified, in his thoughts Lynn was always there with him.

While he couldn't explain exactly why, he made a point of the extra charge that brought. He suggested there was nothing wrong with heightening an experience this way, that it may not be for everyone, including Lynn, but a little danger, if only perceived, can heighten the experience.

Lynn went to her case and dug under the usual rigmarole pulling out her new surprise. She had plenty of sexy lingerie but bypassed all of that for the boots that arrived last week. As she pulled out the red, thigh high, faux suede 5" stilettos she remembered the only time she had tried them on -- the day they arrived.

The kids were in school and husband at work. She was surprised at how they felt and looked. They were tight at the ankles and calves and loosened higher. They perfectly matched the ruby lipstick that accentuated her plump lips, not that she remembered why she had put that on after the package arrived.

The material that rose above her knees brushed across her skin. It gave the feeling she was wearing pants that were pulled down over her thighs, without constricting the movement, especially the opening of her legs as other attire would.

She was nude except for the new "fuck me" boots and lipstick. Before she knew it she was arch backed on the bed, admiring the slenderizing and lengthening affect the boots gave.

She was shoving a vibrator inside her fast paced, remembering how easy it was to get a young, fat cock between those legs many years ago. Indeed, sometimes so hurried the clothes didn't come off, just bunched up or down enough to...

Bam.

Lynn shuddered at the recollection, not helping matters any. She needed to get on with the plan or just have at herself and get it over with. But she did notice this: over the last 30 minutes as she held off bringing on climax, the knot was growing bigger.

Her dampness had not waned - she was forming a spot on the chair in front of her suitcase. And her longing for release was increasing.

'Maybe this is worth trying,' she thought.

'But I can't leave the room in lipstick and fuck me boots and I'm in no mood to lose this feeling spending an hour deliberating on clothes to sneak out in. Where can I go anyway?'

Lynn and Jim frequented this hotel every year over Christmas. There had to be 200 rooms but this time of year there were rarely more than 10 occupied. They always got a great deal, the reason they could afford a $200/night hotel for a whole week.

"I'll just find a place close so I can get back here quick," she ruminated out loud, noticing the hand cupping her crotch was now collecting the drops of nectar escaping her.

In executive fashion she proceeded at rapid pace. She tore open a new container of black panty hose; nothing fancy, but enough to keep the tops of her legs left exposed by the boots warm for a short jaunt out into the drafty halls.

No need for panties her mind told her. No time for panties her wet pussy added.

The hose felt snug and warm as she quickly pulled them up over her legs and hips, snapping the waist band close to her navel.

Lynn had gone out in "less than appropriate regalia" in the old days. Leaving easy access and unobstructed views in certain ways. This gave her suitor a glimpse or brushed feel but she would recoil nonchalantly and immediately, forcing him to salivate over what opportunity he may or may not have in the near future.

That was the best. Making him crave it, dance for it, buckle for it.

If her chosen toy would merely do that, it would make her so hot she would almost always give in. Even if he were stubborn, taking notice but then taking control of her inadequately veiled efforts at being hard to get, sometimes that was even better. But if he battled, playing the same role tit for tat, screw that. Mind games. Next!

Passing off this hypocrisy as a woman's prerogative, Lynn hated mind games and "next" was only a hello away if she wanted it back then.

The boots went on directly over the hose. In a hurry she grabbed her husband's leather jacket which dwarfed her. He'd left it not needing it to go watch football.

It was soft and warm inside, the outside leather supple after 20 years of breaking in. As she stroked her breasts again from over the coat she noticed, as luck would have it, it came down to almost where her new boots ended when she stood upright.

She quickly traced her eyes with heavy eyeliner noting that with the red pliable lipstick she could easily be on the hunt, prey falling at her feet within the half hour.

With that she grabbed her key and made out of the room. Sans consideration she followed the path a friend once told her about for such secluded but public self relief -- if one is feeling randy - the stairwell.

Lynn honestly had no idea that her best girlfriend, Suzie, would chime in on her husband's side after relaying what he had mentioned. She rather expected Suzie to enjoin in a behind the scenes reprimand Lynn had concocted after hearing the ridiculous notion of outing herself for a thrill.

In real time and retrospect, Suzie was excited by what her husband spoke of. She not only agreed, but gave several examples of her own; including manipulating herself aside walking paths in the woods, slow amusement park float rides, and even in an alley behind a porn shop...almost hoping to be caught and used in her obvious situation by some derelict appearing from the store.

Lynn was aghast at hearing Suzie's confessional. She could hardly believe her ears. Was her friend a slut wanting to be taken by strangers in alleyways? Suzie assured her it was just fantasy, but she wouldn't mind her husband finding her like that sometime.

"But then again," she added, "if my husband were OK with it and no one were the wiser..."

Later Lynn found herself thinking of her husband's general suggestion, pondering her friend's specific fantasies, and rubbing her pussy harder and faster than she ever had, resulting in a release stronger than she had ever felt.

Her mind glimpsing this memory she re-focused on the task at hand...making it down the hall to the stairwell.

Her sharp heels were silent on the carpeted hall. Unused to this kind of shoe she dragged a hand along the wall in case she stumbled.

She went a little slower than usual and did not falter. In the hundred feet or so she started to feel her body studded upright and out.

Her nipples were lightly rubbing against the soft lining of her husband's coat. They were rock hard with the combination of cool hall air and thinking of what she just had.

Her pussy had not stopped crying, moistening her new panty hose.

Out of all her ruminations Suzie had explained nobody goes in stairwells anymore except kids and security making their rounds. They don't put cameras in there because it it's an expense without reason -- anything they mount shows whoever is coming out or going in...if they even have those in the halls and most hotels don't.

Well, this would be the perfect place and time of year for that. There are no kids on the 4th and top floor in the smoking wing. In fact there is only one other room occupied down the hall and this place doesn't even have internal security.

Lynn had not told Jim about everything Suzie had said, but she did mention unused stairwells and Jim had no objection conceptually. He suggested they get together in one sometime.

"Sometime." That was a word Lynn had grown to hate. From their conversation about what was to happen tonight, Lynn knew this thought impossible, but wished she would enter the stairs to find Jim waiting there for her.

Lynn had to use all her weight to open the solid steel door to the stairs. There was a small balcony and it was dead silent aside from a low hum emanating from the hotel. A little better lit than she would have liked but still kind of dim, a calming luminescence to the eye.

Thin blue carpet covered the 6 X 10 landing beyond the door. A fire extinguisher was mounted on the wall, a curtain drawn over the winter dark windows facing the parking lot, and no cameras anywhere.

It was colder in here, not receiving direct heat, the hotel center three wings away. No one ever used these things anyway so it made sense the hotel wouldn't pay to heat them. Her nipples tightened even more with the draft upcoming beneath the over sized coat.

But the change in climate was more than manageable. Her high suede boots, hose and heavy coat were far more than necessary to withstand a 65 degree stairwell. She could probably play in the snow with this outfit as long as she didn't get wet underneath the jacket.

Then she noticed the rail.

It started affixed to the brick wall on the left, encasing the landing and winded down the stairs to the right. She hadn't thought of this but having something to hold onto in heels that raised her height so, something that would take time to learn to balance in, would come in handy.

Now comfortable she was in public without being in the public eye, she forwarded to the rail told her mind not to think. She grabbed the rail with her left hand and glazed each nipple with her other palm under the coat. They were so hard they were almost rough to the touch. So sensitive her light caresses were almost painful.

She could feel the heat being trapped and immediately cooled in the nylon between her legs, sending waves of alternating sensations directly to the now melon sized clench in her belly.

As her right hand slid down to the top of the pantyhose, she thought perhaps she should have brought a toy with her.

'Maybe next time,' she thought. Suzie didn't mention bringing a toy anyway.

She rested her left forearm perpendicular on top of the rail and rested her head on it. Bent over like this, her legs automatically straightened and spread, as if her pussy was sending silent orders without her consent. Her other hand worked beneath the waist band of her hose.

With the heels jacking her legs up - this position was ideal. The lightly echoing hum of the hotel became hypnotic as Lynn relaxed into her stance. Within seconds her hand was slowly rubbing over her engorged folds.

'You're teasing me,' she thought, imagining a faceless, vulnerable youngster - just drawn from his pack, into this vacant place.

Her hips began to sway...she was using the heels like swing levers. Just as a slight moan escaped her lips the door only a few feet behind her sprung open drawing a gust of chilled, stagnating air up the well.

It quickly swathed her warm body, filling her dangling jacket and flowing over the now wet hose, the only thing covering her precious delights that she herself decided to display in this way.

The door slammed shut on its tense hinges and Lynn froze. She could feel someone behind her, but was comforted that from behind, the coat covered what she was doing. Lynn went silent and formulated the quickest of plans to be quiet and feign illness if a word was spoken. Hopefully the interloper would move down the stairs and she could dart back to her room.

To be continued...