My First Time 320

This is my story, the female half of this. Names, Dates, and locations mostly changed, and of course, fantasy added it. The true story is in there somewhere. This is written to arouse, not for an English grade. This is meant for fun erotic reading. If you are triggered by girl-girl, sex with strangers, cheating with permission, move on, find what you like, and stay away from your triggers.

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My First Time

I got married at 23 years old, my senior year in college. I was three months from graduating with both a Bachelor's and a Master's degree simultaneously. I had slowly become a quiet, studious nerd until I met the man I would marry. Then I became an academic nerd with a sex drive I had to learn to control. I had to graduate with honors and on time. I had already accepted a job with a corporation on the Fortune 500 list.

My name is Tara, and my husband is Mark. I am 5-5 in height. Since college, I have maintained my weight at 135 pounds, give or take a couple of pounds. I have auburn hair to the middle of my back and greenish eyes. I carry a perfectly pert set of 38 C's for my tits and keep my pubic hair shaved into a nice landing strip. I have, so I am told, the perfect hard nipples. That has been an issue since I went through puberty. My nipples always seem to be hard. In water, like swimming or in a hot tub. If covered, the nipples go soft. So weird, I know.

Sexually I did not know how naive I was until a few years back. That is what this story is about. Up until the incident, I was proud of the fact I enjoyed four positions; I sucked cock to completion, and about half the time, I would swallow. I love lingerie and was totally into self-pleasuring. So imagine my surprise and confusion to realize I was wrong, and there was so much more, and I had spent years missing it.

X X X X X

After I graduated and got married, I went to work for the big firm I already mentioned. They had a regional office close by, so we moved to the Kansas City area, where the regional office is. Mark had no issue getting hired at a small engineering firm and putting his degree to work. I was fortunate to be in a position to advance up the ranks. Then eight years after I was hired, I was promoted to executive vice-president and given charge of an entire department for the western USA. The promotion came with the benefit or hassle of attending conferences and industry seminars, depending on the moment. I have had to do presentations and the like. However, we host a get-together once a year with all the information experts and department heads. We invited a few important clients, and we brainstorm, present needs, and presented future products or services in the works. It rotates around the Nation to different locations each year. The best part though is all flights and room cost is covered. We are each given private rooms. But, alas, no spouses or plus ones on the company dime. I have taken Mark a couple of times, but he was bored. Well, except for when we were in Phoenix, there are lots of golf courses. Myrtle Beach for the same reason. Most times, it is a job conflict for Mark.

So in 2017, the company retreat was in Vegas. We had always avoided Vegas in the past as all the temptation and possibilities to ruin careers, marriages, and bank accounts. However, we got a fantastic price point, and the time was the middle of summer instead of fall, so the powers that be were all in.

I flew out on a Sunday evening getting there three hours later, but after time zones, it was just an hour after I left. Talk about screwing the body clock up. Before I left, I made passionate love to my hubby and told him I would see him Saturday night or Sunday morning, depending on if he was awake when my flight landed. He said something that stuck with me on my flight there. He said as we basked in the after-glow of a wonderful fuck session. There was no love-making. It was raw fucking. The conversation went like this.

Mark: Babe, you know all our sexy talk while we fuck and our role-playing and fantasy sharing?

Me: Yeah, I love that it makes things so intense, and you are always full of surprises. I have fantasies to pleasure myself for days.

Mark: So let's step it up a notch. I want you to embrace a fantasy if the chance presents itself in Sin City. I mean, you are at a large resort facility for six days. Warm weather, pools, short shorts, you know.

Me: What the fuck! Did you just tell your wife to fuck another guy? To just let a complete stranger do me? What the hell is wrong with you?

Mark: Or lady.

I glared at him, got off the bed, and stomped to the shower. I was so fucking pissed. He came into the master bath a few minutes later while I was showering and stepped in with me. He apologized and said he only suggested and gave permission, not commanded or ordered. That there is a whole world out there. Then he says, " Now when I tell you I need to pee and we are in the shower, you seem to like to kneel and let me pee all over your tits. Four years ago, that was gross, but I added it into our fantasy place; now, you like to do it without any hints. He had a point, but not today. I was mad at him and turned my back on him. So the bastard pissed on my ass while I tried to wash my hair and ignore him. He then offered to use the shower shaver and at least trim me up. Again I refused. Not because I was mad, I was, but because that always leads to more sex, and I can't miss my flight.

He pouted, got out, dried off, and went to the kitchen. At least, that's what I assumed. I learned later that was not everything he did. But he got me to the airport on time. I had a non-stop so the flight was barely three hours. I was checked into my room in Vegas before 10 pm Vegas time. As I unpacked, Mark slipped into my bag lingerie and replaced all my everyday panties with thongs or sheer boyshorts. He put in two full-matched panties, bras, stockings, and a garter set. But also this ankle length dress with high cut sides and is so form fitting you can not wear anything under it. I know where his mind was when he packed those items. Sadly it was on my mind also. What he had suggested and said had stuck in the front of my thinking since he had said it. He had given me a brain worm, so to speak.

I was still in my traveling stuff. Leggings (Yes, they had leggings then, just not the style we have now) and a slightly tight T-shirt. Running shoes completed that attire. I usually wore this for my morning workouts in our home gym. I headed to one of the bars to check the scene out and get a late snack and a stiff drink.

The bar was pretty tame, but it was Sunday night. I ran into a couple of the ladies from the Settle office I had seen at other conferences. We shared some drinks, laughs and all. We hung out pretty late as registration did not start till noon tomorrow. When I returned to my room, I felt better and more relaxed, so I called Mark. I forgot it was like two in the morning back home. So I had a sleepy hubby answer and immediately asked if I was okay. He then changed to are you like, um, doing something to share? The frikkin perv. I told him I just wanted to say good night and love him.

Mark: Wait, babe, don't hang up. Can we do a video conference? I want to see you and the room.

Me: Sure, hang up, and I will call right back.

I call back on a video chat. I set the phone up so the open blinds showed all the lights behind me through my room's window. I still was dressed as I had been for the bar. I was just in the office chair at the desk in the room. The room was amazing. Because of my position, I had gotten an executive suite. The room included a living room space and a door that closed off the bathroom and sleeping area. It had a king-size bed and a fantastic view. I was on the 17th floor, facing out to the back of the resort where all the swimming pools and outdoor stuff were.

Mark: Wow, that is some view behind you. Mind giving me a tour?

I agreed to do a tour and started carrying the phone around, showing him the room and even the size of the bathroom. The shower was huge, like four people big. When I got to the window and let him see everything and the view down into the area behind.

Mark: I want you to do a strip tease in front of the window while I watch. Get buck ass naked, then sit down in the chair you were in, facing out at the world, and rub one out.

Me: WTF? Are you kidding me? What if one of the big wigs is across the way watching?

Mark: Look out there; tell me how many people you can see in the lite up windows.

So I looked, strained, and could not even make out shadows. I stepped right to the window and opened the blinds full wide. The windows in the middle actually went from floor to ceiling. I still could not make out anything, so he won the point.

I went and found my selfie stick with tripod and set it up while talking to him and telling him I could not believe I was doing this. I turned the tv on and found a music channel that had music I could strip to. Here I was, stripping in a hotel room in Vegas for my hubby on the video call, cheering me on and stroking his cock for me to watch. I got down to naked, and he asked if I would get the red heels he had slipped in and the black fishnets and slowly put them on while sitting in the window facing out so he got a side view and to talk dirty to him as I did all this. I knew he was hinting at our escort role-play we do at times. I was all in on that tonight.

Me: Hey baby, I see by what you packed me that you want lil ole me to sell myself to some handsome man here in this hotel. You know they can't afford me. I think I will start with these stockings. I know they are your favorites.

Mark: Gawd, yes, baby, you know I want you to get sexed up and sell yourself. Then I need to see you while you give me the details. Oh, fuck, not those stockings. I won't last long.

I slowly eased the thigh-high stay-up stockings up my legs. I was doing my best to make it as sensual as possible. Usually, this feels so silly to me, but with the alcohol in me, I was getting into it. I did all the adjusting and made sure I angeled the chair so he could see more and still be facing out towards the window. I flash him my landing strip as I adjust the stockings for the third time. Then as sexy as I could do in my mind, I slipped into the heels.

Me: Is this what you want your little whore wife to wear on my date? So he can feel my silky legs wrap around him as he plunges deep into my whore pussy he paid for. You want me to call you as he fucks my cunt so you can hear how he makes me cum over and over.

I was really getting into this now. I am sure it is the distance between us and him watching. Of course, the alcohol. I had turned entirely towards the window and was not even looking at my husband. I could hear his moans and his comments, but I was now concentrating on putting on a show to the world and was banging my pussy with my middle two fingers. I was fast approaching my orgasm.

Mark. Oh fuck, babe, it sounds so hot the way you moan as he is fucking your whore cunt. I hope he is paying you a lot. It sounds like you're into it.

I could hear his breathing change, so I knew he was close. So was I.

Me: Yes, fuck yes, give me that big cock deep in my whore cunt. Come on, baby, make me scream with pleasure. I have my legs wrapped around him, honey, and he is plunged into me and fucking me just a little rough. He is so aggressive. Oh fuck, babe, he is slapping me now and calling me names.

Mark: Oh fuck do you like him slapping you? What names is he calling you, baby? I am so close now. Did he spit on you?

That was new, the spitting. We had done the slapping and stuff like this as part of our role-playing in the bedroom.

Me: Yes, baby, he is rough with me, and he slapped me a couple of times, then told me to open my mouth and dropped his spit in my mouth to swallow. He said if I can swallow cum I can swallow spit. OH fuck, babe, I am getting so close with as hard as he is fucking me. He is calling me a fucking whore and a fuck slut. He keeps telling me my cunt is barely worth the money he paid.

Oh fuck baby, I am cumming all over his cock

With that, I blew up into a massive climax. I mean the biggest in a very long time from self-pleasure. I could hear my husband cumming also. He groaned and told me I was an awesome whore wife; this kept my quivering and shaking going a little long. I just sat in the chair with my legs spread wide over the arms of the chair, panting from how intense this whole experience was.

When I could finally lower my legs and turn to my husband, he stared at me with a huge grin and lust-filled eyes.

Mark: Thank you, sweetheart, but I must get showered and back in bed. Work comes early, and it is the middle of the night here; remember the two-hour difference.

I took the heels and stocking off once Mark logged off the video call. I headed to the shower. Rinsed the stockings and hung them to dry. I called and set a wake-up call. I then went to bed. I was sleeping naked for the first time in a very long time. It just seemed like the right thing to be doing. Not sure how much was alcohol, Vegas, or hornies. But I was out, dead asleep quickly. Not even dreams I could remember.

XXXXX

Monday was registration, getting schedules from my company, seeing when my presentation was, luncheon, and hob-knobbing. I was done by three in the afternoon. I headed to the room to get one of the swimsuits on and head to the pool.

There was a problem, though. My husband had changed out the swimsuits. Well, not all of them, he left me a single one-piece, but it was the one I was unsure of because of how high-cut the legs openings are. Then there was a two-piece that was barely there. I mean, the strip that was supposed to cover the pussy

disappeared between the lips if I walked wrong or changed position wrong. The top did at least cover the nipples. The other was a regular two-piece but still small as he had purposely bought it smaller. Worse yet, it was bright fucking red so that it would draw attention. The only one I can wear is the one in a cow pattern. It has high waist boyshorts bottoms and a top that looks like a workout bra. So cow pattern it was. I had a nice cover-up. I added sandals and all the other stuff and headed to the pool.

The nice thing is the pool was busy but not overcrowded, and there were plenty of places to lay out. Great setup. I set the alarm on the phone for thirty minutes to roll over. So I rotated in the sun for three hours until I got hungry. Then head to the room, showered, dressed, and headed to eat. I plan on hitting up some shows here at the facilities. No casino for me; nope, I want to see the acts that are booked.

I ended up seeing the blue man show, and it was fantastic.

Now my time in the sun was not mindless. Nope, the thing my hubby said was still lingering in the back of my mind. I also was listening to an audiobook. But playing in the background was Mark's statement -- If something presents itself, go for it; try to get a picture or something and tell me all the dirty details. Then last night, his role-play on the phone was all about that again. His role-play has been more about me getting fuck by someone else. I need to text and see if he is home and address this. That was my solution to confront him with my worries.

The text discussion lasted through my supper. I headed back to the room to change to go to the show. The essence is he has a fetish that I do something with a stranger and go all in when I do this. Like kissing, sucking, fucking, showering, even if it gets a little rough, if that's what I WANT. He said to do it for me if I want to, not for him, or it will mean nothing for me, just a hallow fuck to shut him up. Wow, just wow, he really has been thinking about this, and it is a fetish-type thing. I never knew or had a clue. I will now have to figure out how I feel about all this.

I did the blue men show, Fantastic. If you can go to one of their performances, do.

Then after the show, I hit the same bar from Sunday night, well more of a lounge with a small dance floor. I sat at the bar only to feel a tug and a familiar voice. It was Sara from the Seattle office. She invited me to her table. She is a 34-year-old with a hard body from working out and being active. She was never married, as far as I knew.

Sara: So why are you sitting alone when you could be hanging with me so neither of us is alone?

Me: Fair point. Just saw the blue men. It was a great show and a good distraction. Trying to figure something out so the alone was not an issue. This is way better, though. How ya been?

Sara: Actually, great. So what's distracting you?

While I mulled over whether to tell her or avoid it, another drink round was ordered. Do I tell her everything, talk around it, give just enough, or hold it in and let it be my brain worm? I could do it all hypothetically. While all this was going on, our drinks arrived.

Me: So let me ask you this if you were in a solid relationship and there was nothing to complain about with money, work, or the like aaaand the sex was fantastic, would you consider cheating if the chance arrived?

Sara: Hard for me to say since I have poor taste in guys and girls. I have never had a solid relationship. One or the other of us always ends up cheating. What? Wait? What are you thinking? I have known you for four years now thanks to conferences and working together on client needs. So are you saying madly in love with hubby is having issues like this, whatever this is?

Me: To be honest, I don't think it is me. I am worried about the "hubby," as you put it. He said a couple of things before I left, then again this morning when he called before he went to work. Now I am questioning everything.

I had finished my second wine and had already ordered my third. I was feeling more talkative and more relaxed. Sara was still on her second, slowly nursing it or sipping, unsure which. I had decided just to lay it all out and go for it.

Sara: So tell me what this is really about. You are just telling me enough to make me curious and drive me up the wall.

Me: Are you sure? It is not that big of a thing. It is just something I got to work through.

Sara: Slow down on the wine and talk to me. This is better than my idea of getting you on the dance floor just to start rumors, LOL.

Me: We can do that also, if you really want.

We both laughed and talked about that.

Then I started by giving her the background of what he said at home, all the stuff he packed. I did a lot of complaining about the swimsuits. She told me to get ahold of the concierge and have them find me a navy blue conservative one-piece. That's what she did as she forgot hers. They had her one within the hour. We were wondering if they could work their magic this late.

So I called them, explained my situation, and asked if they thought they could get one by noon tomorrow. To our shock, the head of the concierge service asked where I was. I told him, and a runner was there in fifteen minutes to quietly get measurements and an idea of what I had in mine. It was 11 at night, so this was like surprising and amazing client service.

Me: So Sara, you see my dilemma. What is it my husband is really after? Does he really only want this as an extension of the role-play? Is there more sinister stuff to cover up his cheating or make it easier to divorce me? Worse yet, is he, what do they call it, a closet cuckold? I think cuckold is the word. I have to look that up.

Sara listened intently to all my babbling.

Sara: Only way to do it is to take advantage of the hall pass he is offering. Me, I am a paper trail person. I would save the texts and have him fax me a signed statement saying I have a hall pass to do someone if the opportunity presents itself. But oh my gawd, if he is even a semi-cuckold lady, you gotta get on the pony and ride the shit outa it until he changes his mind. I would still be with my first guy had he been that way. Fuck I am jealous now. When you start down this road, remember me, and if you want a bi-experience, I am all in.