The Hotel Ch. 01 - Sex Stories

The Hotel Ch. 01

... dunno."

A very interesting turn of events happened then and I thought I heard a sob from Emily. My, that was some good acting! One of the women put her arm around my wife. "It's ok. We understand."

There were some muffled sounds as they moved a little and Emily's handbag was squished between her and the woman. The next 5 minutes were irritating to me; they were talking but I couldn't make it out. The odd word came through but made no sense and I couldn't formulate anything. Even their body language and facial expressions were hard to read. One minute there was a smile, then a frown. At one point one of the women put a hand on my wife's arm. Emily looked down at it, I wonder what was said to make that happen.

What story was she spinning for them? Was she telling them that I existed or that I was a bad husband? She just told them that she needed money but, if they were astute enough, that wouldn't hold up for long. It was so annoying that I couldn't hear what was going on. My mind was running wild with pointless possibilities. She had so much crap in that little handbag that I wasn't surprised that it's caused a problem.

Luckily, I didn't have to stew for too long as Emily turned and headed back towards me, appearing up in the room a few minutes later. She looked a little lost and confused. She though I'd heard almost everything, she couldn't recount most of it when I asked. I think she was nervous because it hadn't gone as planned but she did say that they were ...

... nice to her. I wasn't sure I fully believed that last bit.

Her blown visit to the street kinda put a kibosh on the rest of the night, she didn't want to talk about it much. I could tell that she was planning something though, but she expressly didn't say that she wanted to come back. We watched for a little more but didn't end up fucking as it had all started to feel a little weird.

4 Preparation

It was exactly one week after our first hotel room booking and we were back in the same room. It was Thursday evening, 10 PM, and my wife stood in the bathroom door facing me, dressed differently to how I'd ever seen her. She had very high heels on, cheap plastic white ones. Her short skirt was tight over her hips, and I mean really tight. It was a thin light blue material that came to about mid thigh; not hooker short, but so different for her. It made her legs look strong and long, and I liked that look a lot.

Her top was a white, fitted, knit jumper. This was the item that she had the most internal debate about. It was her size but was made to fit someone with a normal chest. As such it was a good fit under her boobs, but soo tight across them. It really made them stand out more than usual, which was saying something. I loved it, but she was very conscious that it's all people would see. I nearly said, 'exactly' but bit my tongue.

She was a perfect woman, with long muscly legs, wide flaring hips, a nice waist that wasn't silly small, and some of the biggest tits you'd ...