Kenny Wright
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Never Too Late to Play: Layovers 4
🕑 Added 2024-12-24 14:00:16 +0000 UTC
Happy Holidays, and Happy Christmas Eve if you celebrate it! I've been busy writing over the last week, ever since I've gotten out from under my real life work, and have completed this book, other than a final chapter. Yay! I'm really excited for these last few chapters here, because this is what all three books have been building towards. Enjoy!
Chapter 6
So much happened on that first day that it was hard to keep up. Julianna had woken up in the morning with her husband, flown to meet a man for coffee—and later kissed—had drinks and dinner with a second man—who she didn’t kiss—and ended the night getting hit on by yet another man—whom she probably would have kissed and maybe done a whole lot more were it not for Stephen’s “intervention.”
She could have chosen to be annoyed with him, but she was decades past that now. She accepted the man for his quirks and flaws, because she knew that there was so much more to him than all of that. She also knew what anxiety could to do anyone.
Still, she didn’t call him immediately the next morning, either. Let him stew a little. He deserved it. And her head was splitting. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and last night had been filled with drinks.
Getting up, taking some Advil, and hitting the hotel gym got her head straight. So did the furtive glances that she got from the one other guy working out. He was way too young for her, but it felt energizing to get that kind of attention.
It wasn’t until that evening, after her meetings and after grabbing dinner with a colleague—something that she texted Stephen was happening ahead of time lest he track her to a restaurant and raise the alarm again—that they finally did connect.
“Long day?” he asked as she flopped into the nearly made hotel bed, earbuds in and eyes closed.
“Long couple of days. Did I really just leave yesterday?”
“Honestly? I’m pretty sure you left about a month ago.”
“Sure feels like it.” She pulled her heels off and tossed them to the foot of the bed. “How are you doing?”
“Better.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“Because I interrupted you?” he asked shyly.
“What? Oh, no. Actually, like I said, probably best that you did.” She laughed to cover her own blush, even though he couldn’t actually see her. “I’m sorry that I kind of ignored you.”
“Yeah, but I went a little nuts.”
“You did. And we should talk about that. Because we don’t have to do this, you know.”
“It’s not that. It’s more… just… I wish I could be there sometimes.”
Julianna had been thinking about that, too. She’d done some of her own research into this hotwife lifestyle since Stephen had brought it up. She knew some men liked to watch. Some liked to participate. Some preferred being denied all of that—Stephen was clearly not that type.
At the same time, Julianna didn’t feel entirely comfortable with her husband watching or being present. She knew that many men liked to watch their wives flirt at a bar—they’d even done that before. That was okay, if a little weird, but even then, Julianna felt like she was performing for Stephen. It was harder to live in the moment and just be a woman getting hit on by a new man. She also didn’t think that she could ever do… it… with him in the room. But she also knew that he wanted details.
“What would you like to know?”
“Your dinner with Cole. Not great?”
“It was fine. But there were no sparks.” Not like with Anthony, she thought.
“Not like with Anthony?”
Julianna blinked as her husband seemed to pluck her thought from her head. “No, not like with him.”
“Tell me about that.”
It was funny. With all that had happened, she hadn’t actually told Stephen about her kiss. She’d just left the tease hanging out. No wonder he was so crazy.
“Well, he was waiting for me at the coffee shop, looking just as I remembered him…” And then she proceeded to recount, in painstaking detail, her initial meeting. She was partly trying to torture him, partly trying to delay the moment where she had to confess to the kiss. Stephen ate it all up, and as she retold her coffee date—that word still made her heart flutter—Julianna grew more excited.
“…and then he drove me back to the airport.”
“You got in his car.”
“He seemed safe.”
“Okay.” She could hear how heavy his acknowledgment was.
“He dropped me off at the departure gate, as I’m sure that you saw.”
“Yes.”
She was building up the punchline, but even the memory of that had her palms moist again.
“But before I left him, he… kissed me.” Her heart leaped. She slipped her hands down her body, beneath her dark slacks, unable to help herself. “And I kissed him back.”
“Oh, Julianna…”
Her face was on fire. Her pussy was moist. “And I want to do it again.”
“You should.”
“You really are okay with this?”
“I’ll be better,” he said. “I promise.” He sounded like an addict.
“I’m going to hold you to that.” If her husband was an addict, she was clearly his enabler. But could she give it up herself? Not when they were so close.
“Has he texted you since the kiss at the airport?”
“Not yet,” she said. “But that’s not unusual.”
Anthony wasn’t the greatest when it came to communicating, but she actually preferred this to Cole’s incessant chatter. Seemed to translate into better in-person experiences, too.
“And don’t you go reaching out to him and telling him to message me,” she added, knowing her husband.
“I… would never.” She heard the hesitation.
“Of course not, dear. But also, you better not do it.”
“Right.”
***
Anthony did send her a Kik the next day. So did Cole, although she found her heart skipping a beat at the former man’s name rather than the latter.
ANTHONY: How’s your trip going?
ANA: You really want to hear about work?
ANTHONY: If all you’re doing out there is working, then I’d say your trip isn’t going very well.
ANA: Maybe you should have flown out with me after all.
She was feeling bold. Anthony brought that out in her.
ANTHONY: I’ve been thinking the same ever since we “said goodbye.”
Heat pooled below her navel.
ANA: Your loss.
Anthony was fun. She kept up the playful banter throughout the day. She also took screenshots or particularly charged conversations to send to Stephen. Like when she teased Anthony about taking a shower and how nice it was to be able to walk around her hotel room naked, she sent a copy of the exchange to her husband.
ANA: It’s just so freeing.
ANTHONY: Pics or it didn’t happen.
ANA: Nice try.
Stephen seemed to appreciate it, attaching a heart emoji to those screencaps, and it helped keep things light for Julianna, too. He also encouraged her to send pics as proof, which she definitely didn’t do.
She hadn’t actually sent photos to any of her guys, although not for lack of requests. Part of that was fear of judgment. Part of it was just fear that these things would get out into the wider world, that someone would recognize her—or some detail in the background—and she’d be outed. Still, with Anthony, at least, it was tempting. She’d met him, after all.
She didn’t send him a nude shot of herself, though—she wasn’t actually walking around her hotel room naked. The temptation was there, though, following her through the rest of her trip.
So did his flirty messages.
ANTHONY: Let me know the next time you take a shower. I’ll take one, too.
She didn’t respond to that one, as it came in the middle of the day, during meetings. When she checked again, there were a few more—but not Stephen-levels of messages.
ANTHONY: Hope your day is going well. Mine is boring.
ANTHONY: Mostly, I’ve spent it wondering when I can shower.
ANTHONY: You see, I’ve been having very dirty thoughts.
Julianna laughed at the man’s persistence. In contrast, she appreciated Stephen’s restraint. The two men seemed to have swapped roles, and she had to wonder about that—just not enough to worry.
Back in her hotel room at the end of a long day, she stripped off and stood before the mirror, observing herself. She wasn’t the tight, fit thing she once was. She’d had a kid. Her face was lined with the ups and downs of a life well lived. All that said, she knew she was attractive, and this whole hotwife thing, with the men and the messages and the drink dates, was a good reminder of that.
ANA: You can take your shower now.
On a whim, she took a shot of herself over her shoulder, nothing but an obscured view of half of her naked back. Her phone blocked her face. It was about as innocent as a sexy selfie could get, yet it was a huge step for her.
[Julianna]: I’m going to send this to another man. Any objections?
She wanted to give her husband one last opportunity to refuse this game, and she wanted to include him. His response was almost immediate.
[Stephen]: None! Yes, do it! So hot.
So she did, hearing the woosh of it travel to Anthony’s phone before she could come to her senses. She set the phone on the counter and slipped beneath the shower and its cleansing spray.
All her insecurities were washed away as she gave in to the heat and the steam. Here, when she closed her eyes and thought of Anthony, she felt the same tickle of excitement that her husband wore so plainly.
She soaped her body, imagining Anthony’s hands on her. She didn’t have the same flat stomach of her fitness modeling days, but good genes and a rigorous gym regimen had it in a place she was proud of.
She cupped her breasts, full and soft, and brushed her thumbs over her nipples. They were already hard without the stimulation. That first touch sent a shiver through her. She imagined Anthony behind her, caressing her like this, his lips on her neck and his large hands squeezing.
She dropped a hand down between her legs, gasping as her fingers found her swollen clit. She didn’t do this very often. She didn’t play with herself. Lately, though, ever since she’d started chatting with Anthony, she couldn’t seem to help herself.
And when she did, all of her embarrassment and anxiety lifted away. She thought of his eyes on her, his hands on her, his lips and his… erection on her…
“Ah!” She shuddered, the beginning of her climax starting to build. She silenced the cry and forced her hands away.
Grabbing a razor and her shaving gel, she made sure that her legs and underarms were smooth. She glided her palms along her calves, down to her feet, rinsing the foam away and checking that she didn’t miss a spot. Satisfied, she grabbed the shaving gel again and applied it to her mound, making sure that her pussy, too, was as smooth except for the narrow strip of dark hair above her clit.
Out of the shower, she blow dried her long, dark hair. It curled naturally, loose ringlets falling around her bare shoulders. Wrapped in a towel, she picked up her phone and had to laugh at Anthony’s response.
ANTHONY: Best solo shower I’ve had in ages.
He attached a photo of himself, and unlike Julianna’s obscured and “artistic” one, there was no masking who he was. He stood, shirtless and proud, his skin still damp from the shower, with a thin, white towel tied about his waist.
Grinning, she picked up her phone and responded.
ANA: I love a man with broad shoulders and chest hair.
Did she really just write that?
ANTHONY: Well, I’m not so vain as to shave my chest, but as a swimmer I pretty much shave everywhere else. ;)
ANA: Well, I pretty much do too....ummm....almost.
Had she really just teased him about her grooming habits? She squeezed her thighs together and laughed. This is what he did to her. She felt years younger. When she glanced back, she saw a new message had come in.
ANTHONY: So speaking of landing strips… ;) I seem to recall that you’re flying back tomorrow.
He hadn’t mentioned this since the airport, when she’d told him she was still thinking about it. Julianna appreciated that he gave her space, and appreciated it even more when he finally asked.
ANA: I am!
She let him stew for a moment, watching the three dots bounce as he composed a message, then disappear, then bounce again. She giggled and decided to help him out.
ANA: I was thinking of getting something for dinner while I’m there… outside of the terminal. You have any fun recommendations?
His response came quickly.
ANTHONY: You know what? I’ve got a few ideas.
ANA: I bet you do!
She looked around, once again feeling like she was about twenty years younger. She loved it. She glanced down at her phone again, her thumbs a blur and she typed out her response.
ANA: Pick a place. I’ll meet you there.
ANTHONY: And what if I suggested chocolate covered strawberries served in a hotel room?
She felt hot, and not just from the shower.
ANA: I love chocolate strawberries…
Chapter 7
It was happening. It was actually going to happen this time. Stephen barely got any sleep. Not after Julianna texted him and told him that she’d extended her layover tomorrow a little longer.
[Julianna]: Meeting up with Anthony for dinner.
Just as she’d met up with Cole. Only this time, he knew that it wouldn’t end in boredom. Anthony had already proven himself a charmer in person. Julianna knew this, too, and had agreed to dinner with him anyway.
[Stephen]: You’re amazing.
[Julianna]: Help me pick out what to wear.
And so they had, going through the limited wardrobe that she’d brought along to LA. She still had the same outfit that she’d met Cole in, the black and white skirt, the tight blouse. But that felt like a loser.
[Julianna]: How about we start with this?
The photo came in of Julianna wearing a lacy, black Victoria’s Secret bra that he’d bought her the previous year. He found it so sexy that she was going to wear something for another man that he himself had bought her.
[Stephen]: Yes! That’s a good start. And the matching thong?
[Julianna]: Of course. I’m just not sure about flying in a thong.
[Stephen]: I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.
[Julianna]: The things we do for men.
What a statement. Stephen was so hard.
[Stephen]: Now aren’t you glad I told you to pack the little black dress?
[Julianna]: My hero. LOL
The next photo was of her in that LBD. Her hair was still damp from her shower and she wasn’t wearing makeup, but she looked phenomenal in it. The neck plunged, and her cleavage spilled out freely, helped by the bra. If she met up with Anthony in that dress, all parties knew where it would end.
[Stephen]: Is this really happening?
[Julianna]: We’ll know tomorrow, won’t we?
And that was why he couldn’t sleep. How was any man expected to sleep after that. He tried. He tossed and turned. He wished that she was there, not miles away. He wished that he could hold her, touch her, kiss her, before sending her off to a lover. But at the same time, this was good. He couldn’t smother her or second guess any of this. Things were in motion. He just had to be chill enough to let them run their course.
The next morning she texted him that she was heading to her final round of meetings. He wished her luck. He went to work himself, but was barely present. It helped that he was on the cusp of retirement anyway. Things didn’t need much attending to anymore.
She did send him her new itinerary, though. She really had switched her flight home to a red eye, leaving Phoenix at 11:32 at night, and arriving at home the next morning. This was really fucking happening!
[Julianna]: Okay, at the airport. About to board Here we go!
[Stephen]: It’s going to be amazing. Just relax. I’m relaxed.
That was a total lie.
[Julianna]: That’s a total lie.
He laughed at how well she knew him.
[Stephen]: Fair. But I’m better today. I’ll give you space.
[Julianna]: And I’ll keep you as in the loop as possible. Here, for example.
And what came through was a Kik thread between Anthony and Julianna. She’d been sharing these throughout their trip, and he really appreciated it.
ANTHONY: Made us a reservation for the finest restaurant I could find near the airport.
ANA: Oh?
ANTHONY: The Marriott on 44th Street. Room 1295.
ANA: Hope it’s Michelin-rated.
ANTHONY: Still waiting on the star, but it’s got great… seating.
He read the thread, his eyes nearly falling out of his head.
[Julianna]: Turns out, dinner’s going to be room service.
[Julianna]: Okay, I have to shut my phone off. I’ll text you when I land!
Stephen practically had a heart attack when he read that. No, she wouldn’t do that. Would she? Then again, even with the extension, she only had a few hours with Anthony after factoring in security.
He sat back and re-read the text, all the threads, the photos from last night of Julianna in her sexy lingerie. This was going to be a long, amazing, difficult evening. This time, he was determined not to fuck it up.
Next Friday, the wait will be FINALLY over. No more twists or turns or tricks. Just fun fireworks.
Comments
Chris K
Lol
Bill F Protagoras
"Stephen practically had a heart attack when he read that. No, she wouldn’t do that. Would she? Then again, even with the extension, she only had a few hours with Anthony after factoring in security." Those same swift fingers that grant sweet inclusion can also firmly close the door of exclusion. Aaaaah, wishful thinking is a double edged sword... to put it bluntly. Stolen moments... (those should be tantalizing dancing dots)... Lots of puns in this instalment...
Bill F Protagoras
"ANA: I love a man with broad shoulders and chest hair." The fatal casualty of miscalculated ambiguity... a joyful slip... Will it end up fuelling Anthony's 'schadenfreude' of her spouse's gullibility?
Bill F Protagoras
"The two men seemed to have swapped roles, and she had to wonder about that—just not enough to worry." What exactly 'does' she have to worry about? She is the Queen of the May... and the may not.
quizkid
Kenny thank you for redeeming Steve somewhat.
Kenny Wright
This Friday, the 27th!
@hebridesdrifter
Next Friday? Or this Friday?
Bill F Protagoras
“I… would never.” She heard the hesitation. “Of course not, dear. But also, you better not do it.” A warning, almost an ultimatum, or a damp-thighed challenge!
Bill F Protagoras
“Not yet,” she said. “But that’s not unusual.” And yet Ana clearly and unwittingly avers there is a 'usual' between her and the notorious, or even noteworthy, Anthony
Bill F Protagoras
"she was clearly his enabler." Or as it might once have been called... his pusher.
Bill F Protagoras
“I’ll be better,” he said. “I promise.” He sounded like an addict." Or an unrepentant submissive!
Bill F Protagoras
"She was partly trying to torture him, partly trying to delay the moment where she had to confess to the kiss." And perhaps totally misinterpreting her own motivations.. with more than a hint of malice aforethought.
Bill F Protagoras
“Your dinner with Cole. Not great?” How readily he clutches at the preconceived straw. The kind of presumption that may, one day soon, break his humpless(!) back!
Bill F Protagoras
" Because we don’t have to do this, you know.” And here we have the problem... binary discrimination... reductivism... the misapprehension that everything can be reduced to the flipping of a switch. That things are reconcilable in absolute terms... when things almost always flirt with absolution especially beautiful malleable fantasies about women we have fallen into the habit of thinking we know... who also incontrovertibly are convinced they know us better than we ourselves. What a hideous symmetry! (Notice how unintentionally I sided with those whose genitals are prone to hang ups!)
Chris K
I'll give this a second read later. I was out of the story after the second paragraph...
reuben james
Great read Kenny as always. You've got us twisting along with Stephen.
