My Night

He was always telling me to try it. “Just go out on your own,” he would say. “I bet all kinds of guys would hit on you,” he chided. I did not believe him. Not for a single moment did I believe him. Confidence was the trait that always failed me except when I was with him. Over the years my fantasies and interests had, admittedly, evolved. I fantasized about being with others We each had changed over the course of our marriage. We were different people today but still loved each other. We had discovered that maybe we needed more than just us to appease our sexual appetites. I was uncertain, lacking in confidence. But we had come to an agreement. I was to have “my night.” The plan was simple. I was going to a completely new city and flirt. I was to make myself available to whomever I was attracted. He assured me that it wouldn’t take long before someone picked me up.

“What then?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” he said bewildered.

“Once I get picked up what should I do? You won’t be there. It’s too risky. Too scary!” I couldn’t imagine just going to some man’s hotel room by myself like that. After all, my husband and I had been together nearly all my adult life. I just could not imagine it. Yet, when I did imagine it, I imagined having the confidence to walk with a handsome stranger to an upscale hotel room for a night of sensual fun. Inevitably, the fantasy required that I masturbate. I came imagining the feel of a different cock inside me and the scent of another man. I wanted to hear the sound he made when he came. Occasionally I imagined another woman, though my experience there was deeply lacking. I didn’t really know how to fantasize about it. Porn sort of helped, but I simply did not know what the experience would be. Still, I would climax thinking about some anonymous woman and I being together without the benefit of any details of what was happening. She was just a phantom in my mind that overtook me, and I would cum with her surrounding me.

In the days leading up to “my night,” my husband and I had some of the most amazing sex we had ever had. He was like a wild man imagining someone fucking me. We would share our fantasy while having sex and would cum when we imagined the climaxes of the strangers we had conjured. At times we did not even make it to the bedroom when we talked about what might happen. He fucked me on the couch. He bent me over the kitchen sink. He took me on the stairs. I coaxed orgasms from him telling him how badly I needed to feel another man’s cock. When he came, so did I. Clearly, we both were excited about the possibilities. I just hoped that I could go through with it. I hoped not to disappoint either of us.

As the day of my flight approached, I found myself in a constant state of arousal. Always turned on. Never able to concentrate on more than one thing at a time. Hell, I didn’t even know where he was sending me. My husband had planned the whole trip for me. He had arranged the hotel and transportation. All I had to focus on was packing the dress that clung to my tits and rode dangerously high up my thigh. I packed the red lipstick that matched my new red heels. I had my hair done the day before so I could boost my confidence. I was nervous, excited.

When I arrived at the hotel that early afternoon, I found a note from my husband in my suitcase. He told me that he loved me and that he wanted me to have fun, even if things did not work out as we had fantasized. This was a relief. But my studious husband had given me all the opportunities he could to improve my odds. He had found a hotel where a business conference was taking place. Apparently, there’s a lot of horny people who might be willing to hook up at those. I would not know, but I realized that my husband traveled to a lot of conferences. I wondered if maybe he knew something, or had experiences, that I had not known about. In my husband’s note, he stated that he had been to this hotel before. He explained that there was a ballroom in the lower level of the hotel and that there was to be a huge event for the conference the night I was there. It would be full of business people. All I had to do was go and flirt.

I checked my dress a hundred times if I checked it once. I redid my makeup several times. I felt my stomach twist as I walked toward the elevator My legs shook and I was certain I was going to be sick. I sent him a picture and texted him to tell him that I was going to vomit. He replied that I looked stunning and the night would be great. I shook my head. Confidence, again, wanted to doom my evening. I nearly turned back to my room when the elevator door opened. It was filled with business suits, elegant business dresses, and a mix of cologne and perfume that made me want to bite the neck of every human in the tiny space. I love good smelling people. It’s a weakness. As they got off the elevator on the ballroom floor, I followed. And when they entered the ballroom, I veered to the adjacent lounge. I couldn’t go in. Not yet. I needed liquid courage.

With a drink in hand, I sat at the lounge bar. I knew it was false confidence I was drinking, but it comforted my anxiety. I allowed my eyes to wander the bar, just as my husband and I had fantasized. I eye-fucked a few of them as I sipped my drink. The bartender gave me a drink I had not ordered. I looked at him bewildered. He smiled and said, “Compliments of some admirers.” He didn’t point to them. He left the glass and went back to work.

My eyes wandered, curiously, around the room. My grin was turned into a smirk as I explored the room. I noticed two men in a corner booth but rejected the thought that it was them. Surely, they had not even noticed that I was there. I pondered the possibility that the drink was from the tall, gray, and handsome man at the end of the bar. He would be perfect if he had been the gift-giver. But he never made eye contact with me. As my eyes explored the room I felt on display. I became aware of how many people were looking at me, almost admiring me. I felt my confidence grow some.  It had been too long since I had felt the center of another person’s admiration, their interest. I sipped the complimentary drink allowing my lips to linger. I searched for the person who may have given me the drink but saw none of the men returning their glances as evidence. I sighed and worked to finish the drink. It was probably time to just go back to my room.

I was nearly finished with my drink when I felt a presence behind me. I smelled a light perfume and the press of a curvy figure at my back. I froze. I let the touch of another person give me hope I couldn’t turn around though. I was stiff, lacking the confidence to turn around…..