Time Out Tuesday

It had been just three short days ago when Julia, Trish, Donna and I had met for our weekly session of Time Out Tuesday, our one hour a week get together to escape the doldrums and stresses of life as a stay at home parent. My efforts to teach these lovely ladies the fine art of work life balance had taken an interesting and unexpected turn during the past seven days.

"Work hard, play hard," I had told them in one of our earlier get-togethers, "That, my friends, is the secret to enjoying life to the fullest."

Little did I know when I offered those words of wisdom a few weeks earlier that I would end up center stage in the "play" portion of that cliché. Playing "hard" took on an entirely new context this week when I read each lady's response to my offer to fill the void their husbands had chosen to neglect.

I had given the girls an opportunity to discretely express their interest in allowing me to take them to the heights of pleasure they deserved and secretly craved. Three offers extended, three offers accepted.

I had promised each lovely lady that if they were interested, I would help them play out whatever sexual fantasy they desired and take them to a world of pleasure that neither their minds nor their bodies had experienced in many years. On Wednesday, Julia and I had taken that journey together to "Pleasure Island", and after a full day of incredible sex, we were both spent and exhausted, but at the same time, completely satisfied that we were indeed living life to the fullest.

It was a good thing I had planned a day off between adventures with the ladies. That extra day was essential in allowing my sore muscles to recover and my balls to replenish the warehouse of semen that had been 100% depleted in the multiple rounds of sex that Julia and I had relished in.

That was Wednesday. Now it was Friday and it was time for Trish to explore those forgotten adventures into the world of uninhibited euphoria. It was her day to forget about the monotonous routine of parenthood and for a heavenly six hours, blend the world of fantasy and reality into an indistinguishable blur, pushing her body and soul to the trembling heights of her wildest dreams.

Trish had requested that we meet at a hotel for her one on one adventure. I could hear the nervousness in her voice as she made the suggestion for what she called "the least risky option."

I had never booked a hotel room with the intention of arriving in the morning and checking out the same afternoon. The first thought that went through my mind when Trish made the suggestion was the thought of one of those run down roadside motels that are notorious for renting rooms by the hour for the sole purpose of discrete encounters. That was not even an option to consider.

The list of hotels displayed on my screen from the Expedia website was quite lengthy. Obviously I couldn't book a room online and risk having the charges for a local hotel show up on my MasterCard statement, but the website could certainly help me narrow down the possibilities. Even by specifying four star and above as the filtering criteria, the list of options was pretty long.

Hilton, Hyatt, Marriott, my usual choices for accommodations during the era of my business travels were all on the list. As I considered each option, my mind drifted into fantasy mode as I imagined the wild and erotic pleasures lying just beyond the veiled entrance to each room.

As I hit the "Show Details" hyperlink on the website for the Hyatt Regency, my mind raced ahead of the computer before the details could be displayed on the screen. Long before the next page appeared, my imagination was already picturing the king size bed in the middle of the room, sheets and pillows thrown carelessly to the side and Trish lying naked, sweating, and smiling with the unmistakable gleam of a woman who was still tingling internally from a blissfully satisfying orgasm.

The description on the Marriot website of the Jacuzzi suite pushed my mind into overdrive and my cock into full throttle as visions of Trish and I playing water games rapidly fired through the neurons of my brain, accelerated by the testosterone that was actively working in my balls to replenish the stock of sperm that had been lost in my encounter with Julia.

The vision of Trish sitting on top of my reclined body with my pulsing cock buried between her athletic and toned legs, caused my cock to go from hard to brittle. Her glistening body rose with each upward stroke, exposing my rigid shaft that connected our hungering bodies. As her trembling arms gripped the sides of the tub, her firm and perfect ass splashed into the bubbling water with each downward thrust. I could see the jets of the Jacuzzi pointed directly toward Trish's most sensitive spot and with each rise out of the water I could see her swollen clit begging for the downward stroke that would position it back in direct contact with the tormenting water stream.

After considering the options and snapping my mind back to reality from its venture into the fantasy world of erotic adventures, I finally settled on an Embassy Suites. Trish had seemed pretty nervous about this whole thing. Walking into a hotel suite that felt more like an apartment might help her relax a little better than walking into a room where her first sight would be a king size bed.

We had agreed to meet at 8:30. I had sent her a text message after I checked in to let her know I was in room 1132. I must have looked at my watch at least once every thirty seconds as I paced nervously back and forth between the door and the window. I felt like one of my kids on a long car trip asking every two minutes, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

The last glance at my watch told me it was now 8:50, twenty minutes past our agreed meeting time. Was Trish simply running late? Did she get cold feet and back out? Did somebody intercept the text message I sent her? All of those scenarios were racing through my head at a hundred miles an hour as I continued wearing a path in the carpet from my pacing. I checked my cell phone to see if she had replied to my text message. Nothing. Should I call her? What if her husband had somehow intercepted my earlier text message?

My cell phone jumped to life as the incoming call triggered the display to glow and the ring tone to begin its electronic version of the classic hit, "Blackberry Ring Tone #3." Trish's name was prominently displayed on the screen as I picked up the phone to see who was calling.

"I'm having second thoughts about this," Trish confided, as she nervously explained her delay. "I was so damn excited last night I couldn't sleep, but now that it is time to really do this, I'm not so sure."

"I understand," I replied in a calming voice, trying to reassure her that I was fine with whatever decision she would ultimately make. "We have a really nice hotel room for the day though, and its already paid for, so why don't you just come over and we can spend the day chatting and relaxing?" If nothing more than that happens, so be it."

"Are you sure you won't be mad at me if I can't follow through with this?" Trish answered, her voice now sounding more like an insecure toddler than a mother of two.

"Don't be silly," I responded. "Stop by Starbucks on your way, pick me up a vanilla latte, and we'll call it even."

"That does sound pretty good," Trish confided. "I'll be there in about five minutes."

"Five minutes," I laughed. "Don't get any speeding tickets trying to get here."

"No problem," Trish giggled. "I'm in the hotel lobby and there's a Starbucks right here in the hotel. I've been pacing down here in the lobby for the last twenty minutes debating whether or not I should come up to the room."

Five minutes later there was a knock on the door.

I had to smile when I looked through the peep hole in the door to see if was indeed Trish and not the hotel maid checking to see if the room had been cleaned. The dark sunglasses and hat she had chosen to wear made her look like an undercover FBI agent trying to disguise her identity.

It was obvious that when Trish left her house this morning, she was still planning for a day of sexual adventure. The lacy black camisole that exposed her well defined shoulders and arms and prominently displayed her small but firm cleavage was far more sexy than anything I had seen her wear in the past.

The torn fashion jeans that snugly gripped her long, sexy legs displayed just enough skin to be extremely sexy, but not trashy. The bright red three inch stiletto heals and matching leather purse completed the outfit perfectly. If it were nine o'clock at night instead of nine o'clock in the morning on this beautiful Friday, she would have been perfectly dressed for a night of clubbing and dancing at the trendiest nightclubs in town.

"Damn," I stuttered, as I opened the door and reached for the two cups of coffee nestled comfortably in her perfectly manicured hands, highlighted by the bright red nail polish that appeared to have been professionally applied. "You look incredible."

"Thanks," she blushed, as she entered the room and let the heavy steel door close behind her.

"I'm really sorry about this," Trish explained, as we both sat down on the fluffy leather sofa in the living room portion of the suite. "You went to all of this trouble, paid for a luxury hotel room, and then I chicken out. I'll pay you back for the room," she continued.

"You already have," I replied, laughing as I raised the steaming latte into the air in her direction.

In my previous life as a corporate executive, I had learned to read people pretty well, and I could certainly read from Trish's body language that she was nervous as hell about this whole thing. Her voice was cracking, she had a hard time looking me in the eye as we spoke, and the red splotches on her chest all told me that she was in unfamiliar territory and not so sure she wanted to be there.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation," Trish fidgeted, as she nervously repositioned on the sofa and made a feeble attempt at eye contact before her eyes drifted back toward the floor.

"When we were all together on Tuesday talking about this, I wasn't thinking very clearly. I was still pissed off at Dan's comment about me being too old to wear that sexy lingerie you bought me and the kids were fighting all night the night before, so when you suggested some 'Trish time' to take my mind and body away from it all, it sounded too good to pass up."

"It was a spontaneous response fueled by my hormones and emotions, not my brain. I can't believe I let my emotions get in the way of good judgment" she added. "Since then, I've had more time to think about it and there are a thousand reasons why this is all wrong. Fifteen years of marriage, the kids, my own uncertainty as to whether or not I can do this without feeling so guilty I can't contain it, and I could go on and on."

Tiny beads of perspiration appeared on Trish's forehead as she tried to explain. It was obvious that she was torn between what she selfishly wanted for her own fulfillment and gratification, versus what she believed was the socially acceptable and "responsible" thing to do. Deep down she wanted to live life to the fullest like I was suggesting. Unfortunately, the thought of having a wild sexual experience where she could not only feel wanted and desired again, but also experience the pure physical pleasure of unbridled passion, was in direct conflict with her image of a dedicated wife and mother.

"Look Trish," I said. "I am perfectly fine if you want to keep our friendship completely platonic. The last thing I want to do is push you into something that you're going to spend the next year or the rest of your life regretting."

"I have been at the same point you are when it comes to wrestling with the 'Do I or don't I' question," I continued.

That was no lie. I had wrestled with the exact same thing myself. I suppose everyone that enters into an affair goes through that thinking process at one point in time, unless it's a drunken one night fling that happens before you have a chance to even think it through.

On one side of the balance you stack up all of the things you have to lose or regret if you choose to enter into this type of an arrangement. On the other side of the scale are all of the benefits of walking a little bit on the wilder side of life.

The thing that tipped the balance for me was the regret aspect. I could easily see myself looking backwards in another twenty years and regretting all of the things in life that I let pass by and regretting that I had not lived life to the fullest. By that time, it would be too late and I could do nothing except regret it.

I decided I was not going to let that happen. Maybe it was a selfish decision, maybe it was a decision born out of warped logic, but it was my decision. When I look back in twenty years, I want to look back with a smile on my face, reflecting on all of the memories of the great times I have had, rather than with a frown on my face reflecting on all of the things I wanted to do, but chose not to do out of fear about what somebody else might think.

"It is clearly a personal choice," I told Trish. "Only you can decide if you would rather live your life knowing that you are fitting within the social norm, taking the chance that you might later regret not having lived life more fully, or if you would rather take a walk on the wild side knowing that you might also live to regret that decision."

I could see the wheels spinning at warp speed inside of Trish's head. In her thinking over the past two days that led her to reconsider the spontaneous decision she had made on Tuesday, I don't think she had considered the point about looking back twenty years from now and regretting having led a boring but socially acceptable life, with the window of opportunity then closed and missed.

"Maybe you're right," Trish confided, now making more eye contact and displaying a renewed confidence in her own thinking. "Maybe living life to the fullest is worth the risk."

For the next hour Trish and I continued our somewhat philosophical discussion on the pros and cons of entering into a casual sex relationship. The discussion was not specifically about her and I, it was more of a generic discussion about affairs in general and the whole concept of doing things discretely that might be purely selfish and self centered.

I shared with Trish my own story and the fact that none of my friends or family would ever suspect such behavior from me. I was the model husband and father in everyone's eyes. The fact that I had a secret side that no one knew about was part of the excitement and adventure that went along with the physical benefits.

By ten o'clock, Trish was much more relaxed and open with her feelings and thoughts. In the brief hour since she had stepped foot into the hotel suite, we had become like two gossiping girlfriends sharing our most secret and intimate feelings. The signs of nervousness were no longer visible in the color of her flesh, her voice had lost the nervous crack, and the smile and eye contact as she spoke were signs of renewed confidence, not uncertainty.

"This is a pretty nice suite," Trish commented, as she stood up from the sofa and twisted her neck to look around. "Care if I look around and see the rest of it?"

"Not at all," I responded, as I stood and placed a friendly hand on the small of her back, nudging her in the direction of the rest of the suite. "Let me play tour guide."

I must admit, for $180 a night, this was a really nice suite. The living room portion of the suite where we had been chatting for the past hour was a good ten by fifteen feet with a leather sofa, a modern glass coffee table, a leather arm chair that matched the sofa, and a solid oak entertainment armoire complete with a TV, stereo, video entertainment system, and a Sony Play Station.

There was a small kitchen and bar just inside of the suite entrance. From the kitchen you could either enter the bathroom that separated the kitchen from the bedroom, or you could enter the living area.

The bedroom was clearly intended to be the focal point of the suite. The king size bed in the center of the room was facing the outside of the building. The room was on a corner of the hotel with two sides of the bedroom adorned with full length glass walls, curtained in such a way that you could either close them off for privacy or leave them open for a spectacular panoramic view of the city.

Five feet away from the bed was a large Jacuzzi enshrined in marble tile with what appeared to be solid gold faucets and fixtures. It was clear from the size of the tub that the architect of this particular room was thinking about something other than sleeping when he, or she, designed this place. Add to that the location next to the bed and a perfect view out of the full glass walls and you don't have to be a rocket scientist to know that this tub was intended for pleasure, not simply bathing.

Inside the bathroom was an incredible shower area that must have been at least eight feet by eight feet. Like the Jacuzzi, the shower was completely tiled in marble with the finest fixtures. Three adjustable shower heads at three different heights protruded from the polished marble on two opposite sides of the shower. A shower this size with six adjustable shower heads was certainly not designed with the typical business traveler or family vacationer in mind.

"My God," Trish gasped, as she made her way from the Jacuzzi area to the rain forest like shower. "This place is incredible. It seems a shame to have this huge Jacuzzi and walk-in shower just going to waste."

Now it was I who had the lump in my throat and the instant dryness in my mouth. Part of me wanted to jump at the opportunity to suggest we get naked and try these water toys out (that would be the part of me that resides just south of my navel), and another part of me was rewinding the last hour of our conversation trying to be careful and not push Trish into something she wasn't quite sure about.

I must have hesitated too long in my unconscious attempt to sort all of this out. Before I could get a response from my brain to my lips, Trish broke the silence.

"That was a cue," she laughed. "You were supposed to follow it with something like, 'I'm game if you are', or 'Last one in is a rotten egg' or some other corny line."

"Well," I stammered, "You caught me off guard. After our earlier discussion, I didn't want to seem overly eager to push you into something you didn't want to do."

"Trust me," Trish winked. "Unless you get me drunk and take advantage of me, and I don't see any alcohol in here, if anything happens in that tub it will be because I want it to happen, not because you pushed me into it. Can't two friends just share a bubble bath?"

So much for my ability to read people. At this point, I wasn't sure exactly what Trish had in mind. The growing bulge in my pants was the result of part of my brain hoping that my twenty year regret scenario had tipped the scales and Trish was ready to begin her adventure into living life to the fullest. The more logical part of my brain kept that erection from getting too hard as it worked to convince me that any hopes of consummating our friendship on this particular day was merely wishful thinking.

"I'll start the water," I grinned, as I headed toward the Jacuzzi and Trish headed back into the living room saying she needed to get something from the other room.

When Trish returned she was carrying a small gym bag that she had brought with her. I started to ask her earlier what was in the bag, but I just assumed it was a change of clothes so she could dress down a little bit before picking up the kids after school.

"What's in the bag?" I questioned, as she placed it beside the Jacuzzi within reaching distance from the inside of the tub.