Although the brief episode described here does not involve windows, it does follow WINDOW DRESSING, WINDOW DRESSING The Sequel and WINDOW DRESSING - The Next Chapter. You may wish to read them first, or you can read them later or not.
My husband Paul's parting words were "Do something I wouldn't do, but be ready to tell me about it," to which, I replied "If I don't, I'll make up a story you will love," which was all either of us really expected. I was off on another of my rare trips for business, this time on my own. He knows that I have an exhibitionist streak and can be impulsively outrageous when I get in a situation that makes me horny.
He enjoys fantasizing that I end up having sex with strangers while he watches. On our trip two years ago to San Francisco he did everything he could to set me up to have sex with a stranger, who turned out to be an artist. After that trip I received a painting of myself in the nude. Paul likes to think we had sex although I think he also believes Mark was gay.
He has since suggested that we should each have a free pass to play 'away games' whenever we go on a trip. He goes on a lot more business trips than I do but I don't think he ever plays 'games.' Whether its because he doesn't want to or doesn't get the chance I don't know. I suspect he often spends his evening in his room watching porn, which is a little sad. I know he fantasizes about what I'm doing even if I just go out for an evening with girlfriends.
I asked him what the free pass entails. He thought for a minute or two and said, "I don't know, probably salacious flirting with guys or girls, and whatever develops." That seems to give me a lot of latitude. I know he likes to think of me with other women but that really isn't in my wheelhouse. He also knows that I do have boundaries. I absolutely have, but after our trip together to San Francisco I found I had reset them somewhat. I've come a long way since I shocked myself touching a stranger's cock in a steam room.
It was Sunday night, and there were just a few couples in the rather deserted dining room at the Marriott. The only other single person was a man I took to be in his early thirties, a decade or so younger than me. He was engrossed in his book and did not look up at all. If he had looked up and smiled, I would have asked to join him. I like meeting people and hate eating alone. But as it was, I too ended up reading while I ate dinner. I did not see him leave but he was gone when I signed my tab.
By then it was ten to nine, and as I was feeling tired and grubby after my five-hour 'milk run' flight, I thought I would take a shower before bed. When I reached my room, I stripped and looked at myself in the mirror. Not bad for forty-one. I love my body and I'm in great shape. I stood at the window and looked out over a car park. Nothing to see.
"It's early," I thought, maybe I could use a bit of light exercise and have a swim instead. That's the way these things begin. I checked, the pool did not close until ten, so I hastily grabbed my swimsuit pulled on a towelling robe and flats and headed to the pool floor. As I used my room key card to enter the pool area, I already knew I was feeling horny. The lighting was low, and I could see the vast expanse of the night sky through the glass dome that enclosed it. I was not surprised that there was no one in the pool.
I expect that at least once you have walked into the wrong restroom. If you're a woman, it used to be easy to realize your mistake. You'd generally be confronted by a row of urinals, but since we have become less binary in our mindset it's become trickier; for both men and women, I guess. Plus, there are all those unisex restrooms.
But how about changing rooms, like at a swimming pool?
I looked at the door to the first change room. Clearly marked, I was not in any doubt, but I made an impulsive decision. I entered cautiously; no one inside. I looked around. The shower room was one large area with multiple shower heads. Evidently men should not expect privacy. Across from the showers were the toilets and there beside the cubicles was the expected row of urinals. Again no one in sight.
I feigned surprise, although I'm not sure why as there was no one there.
"Nobody is going to come in here at this hour," I thought and took off my robe. It was exciting just to be in the wrong changing room. I put on my swimsuit and put the robe and my flats in a locker. I used the quick shower by the entrance before entering the pool. Just as I thought, on exiting the change room there was still no one around.
I swam a few lengths energetically before gently floating on my back and admiring the night sky. I wished I could be nude. I became aware of a sound, which turned out to be the door of the sauna, and a splash behind me. Someone else had entered the pool I looked round to see a man, almost certainly, the man who had been at dinner. Once again, he seemed totally engrossed in his own activity as he swam four rapid lengths before climbing out and going to the change room.
I got out of the pool and climbed in the jacuzzi. I was excited and wondered how long I should wait before entering the change room. Under the surface foam I let the warm jets play on my body. I slipped the suit to one side and allowed one jet to play on my clit. It took no time for me to feel the beginnings of an orgasm building. I looked up at the surveillance camera and wondered if anyone were watching. The jacuzzi stopped and as the foam dissipated and the surface cleared, I adjusted my suit bottom and climbed out.
It had to be at least six minutes since the man went into the change room and he had not emerged. I knew there was an exit through the exercise room. Perhaps he had also come in that way, although clearly, he had been in the pool area before I arrived. Well, my clothes were in that changing room so in I went. I was tingling with excitement. I thought I heard a shower as I stripped off my swimsuit. I took a towel from the pile of clean ones and walked naked into the shower room.
I could feel myself shaking in anticipation. A man...the man stood under a shower that was no longer turned on soaping himself. More particularly he was soaping his penis and it looked at though he might have been soaping it for some time.
