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Foxy Lady
Star
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2014
- Location
- United Kingdom
The sun was just rising when my husband, Don, picked me up from the prison gates. A quick kiss and we were under way. But at the intersection, we didn’t turn towards the Interstate and home. I looked puzzled and he smiled across at me.
‘We’re not going home right away. We’re going to Vegas for a few days. Give you a chance to top up your tan and for us to get to know each other again.’
I grinned and patted his thigh. After five years in jail, I was as pale as a new born baby.
‘The girls will join us at the weekend,’ he went on.
How thoughtful of our daughters to give us some time alone first, but my mind turned to the practicalities.
‘But what about my things? I’ll need some clothes and stuff.’
‘No need to worry.’ Don nodded at the bag on the back seat. ‘I’ve packed some basics, but I’m sure you’ll want to pick up something more modern when we get there.’
Sure, something more up-to-date. Something more my size too; the prison diet and regime had left me a lot trimmer than when I was convicted.
Once we’d booked in, Don headed for the pool and I headed for the Mall. I started with a few necessary items; there’d be plenty of time for more shopping later. I didn’t realise how soon that would be.
Back at the hotel, I changed into one of the necessary items: a black bikini that showed off my trim figure. Not bad for a girl in her mid-40s. With a couple of days to build up a tan, I’d look good.
Down to the pool, where Don was stretched out on a lounger. He opened his eyes but didn’t stare at me, although I sensed his eyes on me when I wasn’t looking. No problem; I took the chance to see how he’d changed. For a start, there was a paunch and, on closer inspection, a few grey hairs around his nipples, which was only to be expected for a guy in his early 50s. All in all, not in bad shape for his age.
I waited as long as I decently could, until about 2 pm. Then I stood up and put on my robe.
‘It’s getting hot now, Don. How about we go to our room?’
He didn’t demur; just pulled on his robe and followed me to the elevators.
Before we got to know each other again, there was something we had to get out of the way. I’d rehearsed this over the previous weeks, but coming to it wasn’t easy.
‘Don,’ I said, approaching him, ‘there’s something I want to say.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Look, we’ve been apart for five years and it’s only be natural if in that time you …’ I let my meaning hang; he’d surely know what I meant. ‘What I’m trying to say is, what’s done is past. Whatever happened while I was … away … well, I don’t hold it against you. I’m back now and we can make a fresh start.’
Don looked at me understandingly.
‘That’s really sweet of you, love, but the truth is I’ve not been with anyone since you went away. I had a couple of offers, but I let them know I wasn’t available and they backed off.’
‘A couple?’ I was intrigued. ‘Who?’
‘Well,’ he explained, ‘there was Beth.’
No surprise there; she went for any man who was available.
‘And the other?’ I prompted.
‘Viv.’
Now that was a surprise. Viv was quiet as a mouse, not someone to home in on someone else’s husband.
‘She came round one day’, Don explained when he saw my amazement, ‘and confided that her husband was five years into a 25 year stretch for rape. She told me she understood how I was feeling, because she was feeling the same, and suggested that we might be able to provide some mutual support. I explained to her as gently as I could that I was going to wait for you and we left it at that.’
I flung my arms round Don’s neck and melted against him. Being told by my husband that he had waited for me for half a decade was about the sexiest thing he could have said. I kissed him long and hard, my arms pulling him against my body. Eventually, I pushed back breathless.
‘Fuck, Don,’ I gasped, ‘your balls must weight a ton. I bet you can’t wait to unload.’
My hand reached to his crotch and cradled him balls. And my wrist rested against his cock, his soft cock. I gave it a squeeze without response. Despite the time he’d waited and my throwing myself at him, he wasn’t responding. Something was wrong?
‘What’s up, Don?’ I asked with not the most appropriate choice of word.
I’d expected a different reaction. After all, hadn’t he said we needed to get to know each other again? Hadn’t he engineered it so we’d be alone for a few days before the girls arrived? And hadn’t he just told me he’d waited five years for me? After that long, I’d expected the opposite – loss of control, desperate and frantic fucking to relieve all that pent up frustration he must have experienced. But maybe after that long it was difficult to get back into action. Or maybe it wasn’t him it was me. After all, I was very different physically now than I had been all those years ago.
‘Don’t you fancy me anymore?’ I blurted out.
He walked slowly over the window before replying.
‘It’s not that,’ he explained eventually. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I thought it would be OK when we were together again, but now we’re here … it’s just that after all that’s happened, I can’t respect you anymore.’
So he didn’t respect me. Well, that was understandable. I’d been caught perpetrating a quite sophisticated fraud on the doctors’ practice where I worked as finance director. I’d been prosecuted, pleaded guilty and was sent to prison and, according to my attorney, it was only down to his brilliant advocacy that I got as short a sentence as five years.
‘Don,’ I said, ‘I’m sorry. I’ve apologised to everyone. To the doctors and my colleagues at the sentencing. To you and the girls. To my neighbours, even Beth and Viv who were just waiting to get you into their beds. I’ve been punished. What more can I say or do?’
Don went and sat down on a chair. Not, I noticed, the bed where I could sit beside him.
‘It’s not just that, love.’
At least he still called me ‘love’ and he’d been looking at my body down by the pool, I was sure of that. So there must still be hope here.
‘I’ve respected you ever since I’ve known you,’ he went on. ‘I respected you before I loved you. My whole approach to you has been underpinned by respect. Every time we made love, I did so with respect.’
That was true. He was always gentle and consideration – too gentle and considerate sometimes. A girl can hardly complain if she is treated with respect, but maybe I should have. But while I was thinking, Don was still talking.
‘I respected the way you helped you parents in their shop after school, how you worked you way through college, how you took part-time jobs to supplement the family income when the girls were young, how you qualified at night school and got into accountancy, rising to be director at that doctors’ practice. But now I realise it was all a lie. That fraud was too clever to be your first. You must have been practising in your previous jobs. You probably were stealing in every job you’ve ever done, even from your parents.’
I couldn’t deny it. It was true. All of it, even about my parents. My dad never noticed; I was his perfect little princess. But mom used to look at me sometimes, like she was unbelievably sad.
Still Don wasn’t quite finished.
‘You have disappointed me, embarrassed me, humiliated me, betrayed me. How can I respect you after all that?’
‘You’re right, Don. Everything you say is right. I understand why you can’t respect me. But we’re not talking about respect, we just talking about fucking. What’s respect got to do with that? I’ll be honest, I’m desperate. Let’s just settle down together and see how it goes. I’ll work on regaining your respect, honestly I will. I’ll earn it again, genuinely this time. But let’s just go to bed, please.
I was hopeful when he stood up, but he just made for the door.
‘I’m going back to the pool. I want to go to bed with you, really I do. You’re right about how my balls feel. But my cock doesn’t. We could lie here all afternoon but nothing would happen. And that would be just one more humiliation I couldn’t take. I’m only 53, that’s too young to be impotent, but that’s what I am and it’s what you’ve made me.’
What could I do but sit down and cry? And then dry my eyes and do something to change his mind, or at least his cock. It took a while, but then I had an idea. It was worth a try, anything was worth a try.
So it was back to the Mall, but to some different shops this time, and then to the beauty salon, and finally to our room to change for dinner.
Don obviously left it as long as he decently could before coming up to change. And when he saw me, he stopped dead. I was standing by the window, sporting a fake honey gold tan, and wearing a tight white blouse with one too many buttons open and a tight black skirt with a slit up the front of the thigh. I sat down and crossed my legs.
‘Don’t just stand there, Don, you need to hurry or we’ll be late.’
But still he stared.
‘Do you really think that you are entirely appropriately dressed for this class of hotel?’
I ask you, what a mouthful. I’d forgotten how pompous he could be.
I stood up and walked slowly to the mirror where I twisted and turned to study myself.
‘Don,’ I said eventually, ‘you’re right.’
I unfastened another button and studied myself again.
‘That’s better, don’t you think?’ I asked.
He ignored me and got into a crisp blue shirt and grey slacks.
Don may not have approved of the way I was dressed, but the guys in the restaurant did. I was sure at least three guys rose to attention as I passed on the way to our table and the waiters were especially attentive. Don was scrupulous to maintain eye contact with me, at least for a while, but eventually even his eyes began to wander. By the end of the meal he was staring openly at my cleavage.
Back in our room, he turned on me.
‘What the fuck are you playing at, dressing like that in front of the other guests Are you trying to embarrass me or what?’
I ignored him and unzipped my skirt, letting it fall around my ankles to reveal my stockings and garters. Then, fixing my eyes on his, I slowly unbuttoned the blouse, letting it fall off my shoulders and catching it on my elbows to reveal a minimalist black bra that was only clinging to my breasts by the tips of my nipples. As he gaped, I let the blouse fall, revealing my garter belt and gold string that cut between my lips. All set off by my fake tan.
‘Well,’ I asked, ‘what do you think?’
‘I think,’ he said slowly, ‘that you look like a cheap whore off the strip.’
And then for the first time in our marriage, he hit me. All I saw was a blur before his backhand caught the right side of my face and sent me spinning onto the bed, where I landed on my chest with my ass in the air, which was where the next blow landed. By the time I had rolled onto my back, he was out of his shirt and kicked away his slacks. The front of his briefs bore a large damp patch, but they were quickly consigned to the heap of clothes on the floor and then he jumped me. His left hand pulled my head back by my hair, the other ripped at the string – the small and so naturally the most expensive item – which snapped, but not before cutting my ass.
I lay under him, looking down to watch his chest heave and his cock sway. His eyes followed mine and his right hand, now free from the string, guided his cock to my crotch. Then he penetrated me in a single hard thrust. I let out a long sigh of relief as he began pounding me so hard I had to brace myself against the wall to stop my head smashing into it. Finally, with a long loud bellow, he came, the power of his ejaculation seeming to lift me off the bed.
We lay beside each other for a while and then I rolled onto my side and climbed astride him.
‘Now,’ I said, letting my breasts dangle in his face, ‘what’s this thing you have about cheap whores on the Strip?’
‘We’re not going home right away. We’re going to Vegas for a few days. Give you a chance to top up your tan and for us to get to know each other again.’
I grinned and patted his thigh. After five years in jail, I was as pale as a new born baby.
‘The girls will join us at the weekend,’ he went on.
How thoughtful of our daughters to give us some time alone first, but my mind turned to the practicalities.
‘But what about my things? I’ll need some clothes and stuff.’
‘No need to worry.’ Don nodded at the bag on the back seat. ‘I’ve packed some basics, but I’m sure you’ll want to pick up something more modern when we get there.’
Sure, something more up-to-date. Something more my size too; the prison diet and regime had left me a lot trimmer than when I was convicted.
Once we’d booked in, Don headed for the pool and I headed for the Mall. I started with a few necessary items; there’d be plenty of time for more shopping later. I didn’t realise how soon that would be.
Back at the hotel, I changed into one of the necessary items: a black bikini that showed off my trim figure. Not bad for a girl in her mid-40s. With a couple of days to build up a tan, I’d look good.
Down to the pool, where Don was stretched out on a lounger. He opened his eyes but didn’t stare at me, although I sensed his eyes on me when I wasn’t looking. No problem; I took the chance to see how he’d changed. For a start, there was a paunch and, on closer inspection, a few grey hairs around his nipples, which was only to be expected for a guy in his early 50s. All in all, not in bad shape for his age.
I waited as long as I decently could, until about 2 pm. Then I stood up and put on my robe.
‘It’s getting hot now, Don. How about we go to our room?’
He didn’t demur; just pulled on his robe and followed me to the elevators.
Before we got to know each other again, there was something we had to get out of the way. I’d rehearsed this over the previous weeks, but coming to it wasn’t easy.
‘Don,’ I said, approaching him, ‘there’s something I want to say.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Look, we’ve been apart for five years and it’s only be natural if in that time you …’ I let my meaning hang; he’d surely know what I meant. ‘What I’m trying to say is, what’s done is past. Whatever happened while I was … away … well, I don’t hold it against you. I’m back now and we can make a fresh start.’
Don looked at me understandingly.
‘That’s really sweet of you, love, but the truth is I’ve not been with anyone since you went away. I had a couple of offers, but I let them know I wasn’t available and they backed off.’
‘A couple?’ I was intrigued. ‘Who?’
‘Well,’ he explained, ‘there was Beth.’
No surprise there; she went for any man who was available.
‘And the other?’ I prompted.
‘Viv.’
Now that was a surprise. Viv was quiet as a mouse, not someone to home in on someone else’s husband.
‘She came round one day’, Don explained when he saw my amazement, ‘and confided that her husband was five years into a 25 year stretch for rape. She told me she understood how I was feeling, because she was feeling the same, and suggested that we might be able to provide some mutual support. I explained to her as gently as I could that I was going to wait for you and we left it at that.’
I flung my arms round Don’s neck and melted against him. Being told by my husband that he had waited for me for half a decade was about the sexiest thing he could have said. I kissed him long and hard, my arms pulling him against my body. Eventually, I pushed back breathless.
‘Fuck, Don,’ I gasped, ‘your balls must weight a ton. I bet you can’t wait to unload.’
My hand reached to his crotch and cradled him balls. And my wrist rested against his cock, his soft cock. I gave it a squeeze without response. Despite the time he’d waited and my throwing myself at him, he wasn’t responding. Something was wrong?
‘What’s up, Don?’ I asked with not the most appropriate choice of word.
I’d expected a different reaction. After all, hadn’t he said we needed to get to know each other again? Hadn’t he engineered it so we’d be alone for a few days before the girls arrived? And hadn’t he just told me he’d waited five years for me? After that long, I’d expected the opposite – loss of control, desperate and frantic fucking to relieve all that pent up frustration he must have experienced. But maybe after that long it was difficult to get back into action. Or maybe it wasn’t him it was me. After all, I was very different physically now than I had been all those years ago.
‘Don’t you fancy me anymore?’ I blurted out.
He walked slowly over the window before replying.
‘It’s not that,’ he explained eventually. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I thought it would be OK when we were together again, but now we’re here … it’s just that after all that’s happened, I can’t respect you anymore.’
So he didn’t respect me. Well, that was understandable. I’d been caught perpetrating a quite sophisticated fraud on the doctors’ practice where I worked as finance director. I’d been prosecuted, pleaded guilty and was sent to prison and, according to my attorney, it was only down to his brilliant advocacy that I got as short a sentence as five years.
‘Don,’ I said, ‘I’m sorry. I’ve apologised to everyone. To the doctors and my colleagues at the sentencing. To you and the girls. To my neighbours, even Beth and Viv who were just waiting to get you into their beds. I’ve been punished. What more can I say or do?’
Don went and sat down on a chair. Not, I noticed, the bed where I could sit beside him.
‘It’s not just that, love.’
At least he still called me ‘love’ and he’d been looking at my body down by the pool, I was sure of that. So there must still be hope here.
‘I’ve respected you ever since I’ve known you,’ he went on. ‘I respected you before I loved you. My whole approach to you has been underpinned by respect. Every time we made love, I did so with respect.’
That was true. He was always gentle and consideration – too gentle and considerate sometimes. A girl can hardly complain if she is treated with respect, but maybe I should have. But while I was thinking, Don was still talking.
‘I respected the way you helped you parents in their shop after school, how you worked you way through college, how you took part-time jobs to supplement the family income when the girls were young, how you qualified at night school and got into accountancy, rising to be director at that doctors’ practice. But now I realise it was all a lie. That fraud was too clever to be your first. You must have been practising in your previous jobs. You probably were stealing in every job you’ve ever done, even from your parents.’
I couldn’t deny it. It was true. All of it, even about my parents. My dad never noticed; I was his perfect little princess. But mom used to look at me sometimes, like she was unbelievably sad.
Still Don wasn’t quite finished.
‘You have disappointed me, embarrassed me, humiliated me, betrayed me. How can I respect you after all that?’
‘You’re right, Don. Everything you say is right. I understand why you can’t respect me. But we’re not talking about respect, we just talking about fucking. What’s respect got to do with that? I’ll be honest, I’m desperate. Let’s just settle down together and see how it goes. I’ll work on regaining your respect, honestly I will. I’ll earn it again, genuinely this time. But let’s just go to bed, please.
I was hopeful when he stood up, but he just made for the door.
‘I’m going back to the pool. I want to go to bed with you, really I do. You’re right about how my balls feel. But my cock doesn’t. We could lie here all afternoon but nothing would happen. And that would be just one more humiliation I couldn’t take. I’m only 53, that’s too young to be impotent, but that’s what I am and it’s what you’ve made me.’
What could I do but sit down and cry? And then dry my eyes and do something to change his mind, or at least his cock. It took a while, but then I had an idea. It was worth a try, anything was worth a try.
So it was back to the Mall, but to some different shops this time, and then to the beauty salon, and finally to our room to change for dinner.
Don obviously left it as long as he decently could before coming up to change. And when he saw me, he stopped dead. I was standing by the window, sporting a fake honey gold tan, and wearing a tight white blouse with one too many buttons open and a tight black skirt with a slit up the front of the thigh. I sat down and crossed my legs.
‘Don’t just stand there, Don, you need to hurry or we’ll be late.’
But still he stared.
‘Do you really think that you are entirely appropriately dressed for this class of hotel?’
I ask you, what a mouthful. I’d forgotten how pompous he could be.
I stood up and walked slowly to the mirror where I twisted and turned to study myself.
‘Don,’ I said eventually, ‘you’re right.’
I unfastened another button and studied myself again.
‘That’s better, don’t you think?’ I asked.
He ignored me and got into a crisp blue shirt and grey slacks.
Don may not have approved of the way I was dressed, but the guys in the restaurant did. I was sure at least three guys rose to attention as I passed on the way to our table and the waiters were especially attentive. Don was scrupulous to maintain eye contact with me, at least for a while, but eventually even his eyes began to wander. By the end of the meal he was staring openly at my cleavage.
Back in our room, he turned on me.
‘What the fuck are you playing at, dressing like that in front of the other guests Are you trying to embarrass me or what?’
I ignored him and unzipped my skirt, letting it fall around my ankles to reveal my stockings and garters. Then, fixing my eyes on his, I slowly unbuttoned the blouse, letting it fall off my shoulders and catching it on my elbows to reveal a minimalist black bra that was only clinging to my breasts by the tips of my nipples. As he gaped, I let the blouse fall, revealing my garter belt and gold string that cut between my lips. All set off by my fake tan.
‘Well,’ I asked, ‘what do you think?’
‘I think,’ he said slowly, ‘that you look like a cheap whore off the strip.’
And then for the first time in our marriage, he hit me. All I saw was a blur before his backhand caught the right side of my face and sent me spinning onto the bed, where I landed on my chest with my ass in the air, which was where the next blow landed. By the time I had rolled onto my back, he was out of his shirt and kicked away his slacks. The front of his briefs bore a large damp patch, but they were quickly consigned to the heap of clothes on the floor and then he jumped me. His left hand pulled my head back by my hair, the other ripped at the string – the small and so naturally the most expensive item – which snapped, but not before cutting my ass.
I lay under him, looking down to watch his chest heave and his cock sway. His eyes followed mine and his right hand, now free from the string, guided his cock to my crotch. Then he penetrated me in a single hard thrust. I let out a long sigh of relief as he began pounding me so hard I had to brace myself against the wall to stop my head smashing into it. Finally, with a long loud bellow, he came, the power of his ejaculation seeming to lift me off the bed.
We lay beside each other for a while and then I rolled onto my side and climbed astride him.
‘Now,’ I said, letting my breasts dangle in his face, ‘what’s this thing you have about cheap whores on the Strip?’