Dear Abby's Vacay

Of course I did.

Being a natural strawberry blonde redhead, I tried not to tan too often as I freckled more than tanned, but a little makeup always smoothed things out. Thanks to my mom's advice of creams and lotions, my stretch marks were barely noticeable.

I usually keep my hair long, and in a braid, but sometimes I cut it just below the shoulder, and then put it up in a ponytail when I'm feeling lazy. My hair is naturally wavy, so if it's not in a braid or ponytail, it tends to fill out around my head like a lion's mane.

My eyes aren't just blue, but light blue, and are one of the first things people noticed after getting over how small I am everywhere else.

My round face, small nose, and straight teeth result in what most guys referred to as "pretty" even when I put on a lot of make-up. I even overheard one boy in high school say that he felt sorry for "that pretty little girl trying to look sexy with all that makeup." Years later, Linda helped me skip sexy and go straight to slutty by simplifying the makeup and adjusting my clothing choices - if those choices could even be called clothing. A change in attitude helped, too.

I put on a little weight with the kids, but it mostly went to my hips and butt, resulting in a pleasant pear shape. I've tried everything from Crossfit to yoga while bouncing back from the pregnancies, but Pilates and spin classes were the most fun and rewarding. I used to run a little, too, and even finished a few Ragnar relays, but as mom duties became more demanding, the running all but stopped. I kept a membership at the local health club even after getting back in shape. Mostly, because it made me feel good being treated as the occasional eye candy, but also because I liked sex with my husband and stamina was important with him. Linda had a lot of stamina, as my husband and countless other men knew.

For a while, it seemed that a pretty face, a flat tummy, a perfectly round (and hard) butt, and perfect legs were all I had going for me. Well, almost all.

For having a smaller mouth, I had gotten really good at blowjobs with some help from Linda (and later from our friend, Jean) thanks to a lot of practice in a short amount of time. I also made Kegel exercises part of my workout routine to the point of having a very tight pussy when I wanted it to be.

I even started to enjoy butt sex once I learned how to adjust my diet, and relax at the beginning. So, that was also a plus. It's not like I was recently an anal virgin. A few years after we were married, I'd let Ron finish in my butt after he made me come, not only to spice things up, but also to cut down on our chances of getting pregnant again. Eventually, I went on the pill.

Linda preferred butt sex, and when my husband, Ron, started having his fun with her on business trips, I guess that's when he also started doing me up the butt more often while he was home. At the time, I never knew. I thought it was just a phase we were going through.

As a result of Ron's idea of making home porn on what ended up being a short-but-frequent basis, we both decided to go hairless around our nether regions. It made seeing the important parts easier, I supposed, but Ron really liked going down on me more than ever, and the video booth customers seemed to like it, too. So, we invested in a more permanent solution for me, while Ron was forced to learn the art of manscaping.

I was blessed with marrying a nice-sized man with a nice-sized cock, that knew how to use it. Ron was blessed with finding a small wife with a large clit. He had no trouble figuring out where to put his fingers or his tongue during foreplay, and I knew exactly how to position myself on him to come every time we had sex. I had no idea how large my clit swelled compared to other women until Linda went down on me. She told me how lucky I was, and when I eventually went down on her to return the favor, I believed her. Her little nub was tiny in comparison to mine.

Linda inspired me to have my nipples pierced, too. I thought it might spice things up even more, not that I needed it. I just figured it would take things to a whole new level, unknowingly with a whole new group of... friends.

I was right. The piercings were a definite hit with my husband, Ron, Linda's husband, Brian, and Renee's husband, Kevin, and all the guys I've ever interacted with in the adult video booths.

As for my butt hole, I had experimented with small butt plugs in the past, but nothing too serious. Linda helped me get serious. She also recommended that I have my butt hole bleached, even though it was already pretty, pink, and hairless. Eventually I did that, too. Linda was the voice of experience, after all.

That was all behind Linda, now, pardon the pun. Jean's college son, Michael, lost his regular MILF lay as Linda moved on to a much larger bull to satisfy her needs. Linda's husband either didn't know, or he did a great job of pretending he didn't know someone else was fucking his wife more often than he was.

Ron knew other men were fucking me. I didn't need to hide it.

In fact, I think he was turned on by it - not that he had much of a choice. He cheated on me with Linda and almost lost his job because of it. Thanks to Linda - and Jean's son, Michael - we turned lemons into lemonade by way of an incredible office party. It was certainly one that would be talked about privately for years to come. Most importantly, by the following morning, everyone was able to keep their jobs. We avoided paying divorce lawyers a dime, and everyone seemed to be getting along contently, if not happily ever after.

Ron's co-worker and former butt sex goddess, Linda, was also Michael's featured entertainment for dozens of frat parties, and a few other private gatherings. After the office party, she more or less retired from that role - apparently replaced by me to an extent. I don't think that was the plan, not that there ever was a plan. It may have just be a coincidence that several weeks before that party, I started getting a second wind regarding my sexual promiscuity. I never cheated on my husband, and thought my days of looking sexy were not only over, but would never actually manifest. Maybe I was feeling there was a missed opportunity, at some point.

Then, Linda slowly started opening my eyes to a whole other world. Between Linda and Jean, I learned more about sex than I ever thought possible.

I thought the home-made porn was Ron's way of rekindling my sexually adventurous side. We made a handful of home videos, which he later peddled to not-so-local adult book and video stores. I had to admit that I had fun making them, and was even turned on knowing complete strangers would be masturbating to them. They were well-received, and we were eventually approached to do more and actually get paid for the effort. We did, and we were paid, but it made me so nervous afterward that I eventually had to stop. Even though Ron had me dress up in different outfits and disguises, my face was still clearly visible in most of them, especially during the blowjob scenes. My parents lived in the same town, my kids were in junior high, and I still had mom duties. I couldn't afford to be found out by the wrong person or people.

Then, I had an experience in one of the adult video store booths where Linda secretly introduced me to her bull. I later found out it was all part of Linda and Ron's manipulation of me, to get me to do certain things and act a certain way at the upcoming office party so everyone's jobs would be saved. I really took things up a notch at the office party while saving Ron's job. Who am I kidding? I took it all the way up the ladder. Linda and Ron's mind games worked - maybe too well.

That was followed by a few experiences with Ron - and a few without - where I gave live shows to anyone that happened to be trolling the gloryhole-equipped video booths at the time.

After that, Michael approached me and asked if I wanted to take over for Linda.

I did. At least I thought I did.

I didn't actually know how many men Linda was capable of "entertaining" at the same time, or if I would be expected to do the same. The thought intrigued me, though. Ron's cheating on me was my "no expiration date" Hall Pass, and I intended to use it.

Michael started me off with a group of men that frequented a former VFW Hall turned into a low-volume bar. At first it was just Mort, Cecil, Jerry, and Little John; men in their fifties with surprising libido. They all figured out I wasn't a college student rather quickly, even though that's what Michael told me to pretend to be. Leave it to Michael to come up with the idea of a college girl trying to look older so she can get into bars. They figured I was either an up-and-coming prostitute or just a late-twenties ex-wife slut gone wild, but guaranteed disease-free by Michael so they could fuck me without condoms. Michael mentioned that he needed to protect his talent, too, and needed all of them to have a clean bill of health from their doctors before being "entertained" which they complied with happily. Michael went so far as to hand me money in front of them, after I had told them I wasn't a whore. He confused everyone... even me.

Even after they learned I was just some random wife and mother that was getting even with her cheating husband, they asked for me to come back for more.

So, I gave them more.

I visited the former VFW bar a few more times over the next two months, and I think I had more fun "entertaining" these men than most women would ever know. Although the group knew Mort was my favorite, I gave them all plenty of attention. Linda and Jean would have been proud. I had established my "regulars" and Michael seemed content with only having me entertain this small group of men, and no others. No frat parties. No bachelor parties. Just the bar. No fights. No diseases. No pregnancies (yet).

My husband would cover for my once-a-week absence by saying I was helping a friend with this or that, which was not too far away, but far enough that I would probably just spend the night. Mommy would be home tomorrow morning.

And usually, I was.

Sometimes early, sometimes late, but I was the hero for helping somebody with something. When mommy could barely walk and slept until late in the afternoon, it was because she was just tired.

And usually, I was.

Ron knew that whatever I told him about the night before was going to turn him on, and I would let him take out all of his sexual frustrations on me in whatever way he desired. He just needed to let me recover for a day or two, first.

My gynecologist refilled my birth control pill prescription, and she didn't pry when I asked for the occasional STD test. She had been examining me for years, and she must have known my pussy and ass weren't suddenly getting stretched by Ron. My husband is blessed, but not like his boss or Little John. When I asked about getting my tubes tied, she recommended sticking to the pill, especially since anal sex was becoming a regular part of my lovemaking.

So, I did.

On the nights that I was supposed to "entertain," Michael would show up at my favorite adult book and video store and leave an outfit for me behind the counter. I'd change into the outfit in a video booth, and give the locals a little show through the gloryholes as a thank you to the store owner.

Michael liked to surprise me with the outfits he picked. The brown paper bag he left behind the adult book store counter had everything I was supposed to wear while "entertaining," and nothing more. I was supposed to put everything I wasn't going to wear or hold back into the paper bag. My keys, cellphone, drivers license, credit card... and wedding ring went into a little pocket purse which then went into a pocket of whatever clothes I left the house wearing, and then I'd put it all in the bag, leaving it behind the counter for Michael to pick up later.

I'd walk out in my outfit, get into Michael's car, and be driven to the bar. Michael would drop me off and pick me up at some point that night or early the next morning. He'd take me back to my car, hand me my bag of clothes, jewelry, keys, and phone, and I'd drive home. I'd text Ron if he was home with the kids and let him know whether or not I was presentable, and if not, he would distract the kids while I made my way to the shower.

~~~

Michael provided me with Mort's cellphone number a few days after my last appearance at the bar. I called Mort, and left a message letting him know that I probably wouldn't be going back to our favorite bar for awhile, if ever again, but that I still wanted to 'see' him. He didn't respond right away. After a week, I wondered if he was just waiting for things to cool down. After two weeks, I wondered if Michael had given me the correct number. After three weeks, I resigned myself to the fact that Mort wasn't interested, and anticipated a call from Michael with a new venue for me to experience.

And then, four weeks later, Mort called using a different phone number, completely surprising me.

He said he was going to take me on a little trip in a few weeks, and that I should bring my passport. When I asked where, he said it was a secret. When I asked for how long, he said I'd be away from home for about a week, but only out of the country for four days and three nights. He also recommended a few sessions at a tanning salon, to minimize my chances of sunburn.

It sounded very exciting, but I didn't know how much I wanted to tell my husband, Ron. He liked knowing where I was when I went 'out' and he took comfort in knowing that he could come to my rescue if I needed rescuing. This would be very different. I wasn't sure he'd agree to it.

I told Jean, though, after telling Mort that the idea of a secret getaway was nice, but I needed to tell at least one of my female friends where I was headed, just in case something happened to me. He relented, and said we were headed to a private tropical paradise near Cancun, where my freckles were going to come out in full bloom, and where I probably wouldn't get any tan lines. That would be hard to explain with my planned excuse of visiting an old classmate that moved to South Dakota in the middle of winter.

I would have told Linda, but she had been out of the picture for the past few months, and seemed to have taken her extra-curricular activity to a whole new level of secrecy. If she wasn't seen at work, she wasn't seen.

Jean thought the idea was exciting, though, and was very happy for me.

I was anxious about the idea, and maybe a little scared. Like a gymnast without anyone to catch me if I fell.

I really just wanted to be with Mort, and I wanted him to just be with me. He seemed to think he knew better, though, and told me to just go along with whatever he had planned, and I'd be better for it.

So, I did.

Out of an abundance of caution, Mort asked me to get a thorough medical examination before the trip. Once my doctor had checked all the blocks indicating that I was STD-free, and had a healthy heart (the stress test was the doc's idea), the hard part was over.

Mort was going to provide me with clothing, bathing suits, sunglasses, and anything else a girl might need in a tropical paradise. All I had left to do was kiss my husband and the kids goodbye, and have Jean drive me to the airport.

I really didn't know much about Mort. I didn't even know his last name until just before the trip. But, I knew how he fucked, and I liked it - maybe more than anyone I had ever been with. My heart jumped when I found him in the airport.

I was surprised when I noticed a wedding ring on his finger.

I was shocked when I noticed a tall, beautiful blond - easily ten years my junior - on his arm.

They both stopped talking, and then turned and smiled at me. I felt self-conscious as I wasn't dressed nearly as fancy as either of them. My hair was in a ponytail, and I looked every bit the traveling housewife.

I slowed my pace as I approached them in the terminal where I was supposed to meet Mort. I turned around to see if Jean was still parked where she dropped me off.

Gone.

I looked back toward Mort and the tall blond, and they were already walking towards me. For the first time in a long time, I seemed to be at a loss for words. I wasn't sure if I was angry, sad, disappointed, or turned on. If I was going to share Mort with another woman, I would have wanted her to not be as young and attractive as this woman. She was absolutely gorgeous.

"Abby!" Mort reached out for me. I stopped, frozen, still unable to speak.

"This is my daughter, Ronni," Mort gestured to the amazing blond. "Ronni, this is Abby."

"She's even more beautiful than you described," Ronni said. Then she turned and hugged me, "Pleasure to meet you, Abby." After she pulled her hot body away from mine, I said, "Likewise."

"Well, you two have a plane to catch, and I have a test to study for," Ronni said. "Have fun in Cancun!"

Mort gave her a kiss on the cheek, and waived good-bye as she headed out of the terminal.

"You have a daughter?" I asked.

"I have several," Mort smiled.

"And, a wife?" I asked. "Or, several of those, too?"

"Just one," Mort smiled.

"Why aren't you going with her?" I asked.

"Why aren't you going with your husband?" Mort answered.

"Does she know?" I asked.

"Does your husband?" Mort answered.

"Yes," I said, feeling just a sliver of guilt. "Is your wife as pretty as your daughter?"

"And then some," Mort said.

"Does she fuck other men?" I asked.

"She has, in the past. Not as frequently, now," Mort reflected. "Are you having second thoughts, Abby? It's okay. I don't want you to do anything you think you might regret."

"I just... it's just..." I stammered.

"We can talk about it on the plane if you'd like, but we need to get going if we're going to do this," Mort said.

I took in a deep breath, exhaled, and then he kissed me.

We held hands on the plane for the entire flight. I'm not sure if it was infatuation, puppy love, or just playing "House."

I'd ask him questions about himself, and he'd give me answers, but nothing absolute or too revealing. He was either maintaining an air of secrecy, or simply prolonging the conversation.

When he had questions for me, I told him everything.

By the time we landed, he knew about all of my past and recent adventures, and what led me to visiting our regular bar the first time, several months ago.

I knew he was a doctor, his wife was a lawyer (though she no longer practiced), and they had four girls, but only one was actually his. He also divulged that his wife was paying an annual visit to a nearby adults-only resort where she was undoubtedly receiving enough ego-boosting attention to last another year, if not a lifetime.

"When you say adults-only, is it one of those clothing optional places?" I asked.

"Yes," Mort smiled.

"Are we going there, too?" I asked, not sure what I had gotten myself into. I had seen the advertisements for those places, and knew they were expensive for a reason.

"No, we're going somewhere else," Mort said. "Somewhere, a little more adventurous, I think."

"What could be more adventurous than non-stop casual sex with strangers?" I asked, not really wanting to be with anyone but Mort on this trip.

"Not-so-casual sex?" Mort answered.

I still didn't know what he meant as he waved at a taxi.

I looked out the back window as we drove South along the shoreline, away from the airport, and eventually, away from civilization, itself.

As the road turned from asphalt to gravel, and then to dirt, I gave Mort a concerned look.

The road had been bumpy for the past twenty minutes, and I wondered how much farther we were headed. When the taxi came to a stop, Mort looked around, made eye contact with the driver in the rear view mirror, and undid his seat belt.