Sharon's Tale Chapter 1: Beginnings - Sex Stories

Sharon's Tale Chapter 1: Beginnings

I'm propping up the hotel bar in my short, shoulderless dress, showing more flesh than I thought possible, pondering how and why I am here.

Ken. My husband. It is his fantasy that I am living out.

He wants me to pick up a stranger and have sex with them, easy! However, that's only the beginning; his true fantasy comes later when I have to tell him exactly what transpired between myself and my temporary lover. Ken wants to hear all the gory details.

It took me several months to come to terms with his strange request. I needed a lot of convincing and reassurance that he still loved and wanted me. Eventually, accepting his need, leading to tonight. This is the fourth time we have tried to get me picked up, and it is by far the smartest hotel we have been in. Perhaps quality will tell, that the lack of clothing covering my body. My dresses have got shorter every time I try.

This guy suddenly interrupts my reveries.

“Excuse me, I do hate to see a woman drinking alone; I trust you are alright?” he charmingly asks.

“Yes, I’m fine, thanks," I politely reply, turning toward him and then back to the bar.

He pulls up a barstool and sits beside me; as I glance at him, he smiles. “Sorry, I can’t leave you by yourself. I’ll sit here till your husband comes down.” I return his smile.

"Hubby won't be here till after ten o'clock; he got held up in a meeting and missed his train," I complain.

“I'm sorry to hear that; what does he do?" He is pleasantly persistent and ...

... also quite good-looking. "My name is Colin, by the way."

Being polite, I turn toward him, and our legs touch, sending a thrill up my leg.

”I’m Sharon, my husband is Ken. He’s a corporate lawyer and got caught up in some late changes to a merger contract,” I waffle.

Colin signals the barman for more drinks.

“Been there myself, can’t be helped sometimes,” he chuckles.

The drink is soon delivered. “To absent husbands,” he toasts jovially. He spilled some drink on his hand and accidentally touched my leg when wiping it on his trousers.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” Colin mumbles. Like hell you didn’t, I grin to myself.

As I said nothing and did not move my leg away, he felt emboldened, putting his hand deliberately on my thigh and gripping it firmly.

“That’s what I meant to do,” he grins. I smile back.

“It’s a nice, firm grip you have,” I purr.

His hand moves slowly up my leg, his fingers circling gently, caressing and teasing. Moving ever higher.

I smile. “Absent husbands.”

"Let's sit over there," Colin points to a sofa in a darkened corner. "It is a little more private."

He sat next to me, our legs touching. “Now, where were we,” he says, as he places his hand high on my leg, pushing under my dress onto my bare flesh. “Yes, about here, I think,” he grins lasciviously.

I look into his eyes as my legs part of their own accord.

“Feels about right,” I huskily reply.

I twist around toward him, presenting him a better line up ...