The Road Journey - Sex Stories

The Road Journey

... said, “I guess you could say that,” answering the second question and letting my honesty get the best of me. I mean, I could have just said I was solo tonight, but that just wasn’t true. She cocked her head just a bit and probed. “Now that answer begs another question,” she said coyly. I sensed she genuinely wanted to know more, and I was beginning to loosen my grip on my “secret.” Just as I was about to respond, the familiar loud rhythmic thumps that signal the cattle call rang throughout the club. As if to rescue me, Simone gently took my hand and whispered to me. “Let’s continue this in private.” Rising smoothly from the lounge chair, she led me past a couple burly security professionals to an intimate VIP room in the back. Once seated, she covered the obligatory schtick regarding rates and number of songs. Taking a hundred dollar bill out of my money clip and holding it up, I proposed we just hang out and talk. Pleased with the no-frills arrangement, she accepted the bill and we settled in to continue the conversation. “So,” she resumed, “you’re own your own tonight but…” playfully trailing off to invite me to fill in the blank. I swallowed a bit and stammered, trying to find an approach. “Um, well, technically I’m not ‘on my own’ tonight.” I stopped to see if she would pick up my bait, and she did. Crossing her legs, as if to position herself for a game of Twenty Questions, she continued. “Temporarily,” she repeated, emphasizing as if interrogating me. “Let me guess,” ...

... she confidently announced, “you are here for a few hours while your wife or girlfriend enjoys some girlie girl fun like the spa?” She settled back, satisfied she had figured me out in two minutes. I suppose years in this line of work makes a woman both armchair psychologist and junior detective all at once. While not entirely offended, this lame assumption emboldened me and my smart-ass inner self began to emerge. Afterall, she doesn’t know Amanda. Losing my reservations, I matched her deadpan with a very direct disclosure. “No,” I informed her. “She’s on a date right now.” Leaning back a bit as if the fact whizzed by her ear like a bullet, she asked for further clarification. “A date?” she curiously repeated. “Like a date -- you know, meet for a drink, hang out, whatever.” “Like, with another man?” “Yes, another man." Clarifying further, I added, "A hot man.” Sensing there was something a little dysfunctional going on, she tightened a bit and asked if this was some sort of jealous retribution. Or maybe the first stop for an evening that wasn’t going to end well for someone. “No, no, no,” I hastily assured her, stepping back from the cool vibe we had going. “I arranged the whole thing. Really.” Returning quickly to ease, Simone was still a bit curious. “Is this some sort of hall pass thing?” she asked almost mockingly, as if the gig was up. No, I told her, this was a fantasy I had for a long time, and my loving wife was living it with me. She was a bit shocked at first, and ...