Guilty Pleasures Ch. 08

"What?" Cheyenne said.

"What?" I said, much louder.

It was a good thing that the music was much quieter in the private room. And the DJ's voice was not fed in back there. It made this whole conversation possible without shouting.

Wanda shrugged. "Look Clark, you are good-looking, rich... ish, a great guy, and turns out you are even better in the sack than I had built you up to be in my mind. You'd be a catch for her."

I just stared at her.

"Plus, you know, you are kind of a geezer. You'd dry up and blow away in the wind while Mary was still young enough to marry again... maybe even for love that time." I just stared at her grinning, maniacal audacity.

"But," Wanda said, raising a finger warningly, "don't get any ideas, Mister. It would be super awkward for you to show up at Bridge Nights with Yancey's and my daughter," she said sternly. "If you must go that route, pick one of the other two."

"Other two?" Cheyenne asked, as if she was afraid to.

"My daughter is one of his daughter's best college buds," Wanda said. "He took them all on a cruise after exams and banged the other two before he got around to my daughter. Really Clark, Mary was third choice?"

Cheyenne slammed back her glass.

"We are going to need another," I observed. Our dancer popped to her feet and stuck her head out through the curtain, releasing the clip.

"Hey! Frannie," I heard her hiss. I was enjoying the sight of that ass as she bent to look out. "Another bottle, please!"

"This is ridiculously fun," Wanda said, leaning over to me and keeping my cock company with her hand while Cheyenne was gone.

"It is a perfect chance for what didn't happen in Vegas to stay in Vegas," I chuckled, also having fun with telling this tale to a naked hottie while we all felt each other up.

The dancer let the curtain close and was instantly squeezing her lovely backside between us again.

"You took your daughter's three friends on a fucking sex cruise?" she instantly accused me.

"No," I said with wildly exaggerated faux patience. "I took my daughter on a post-exam family cruise. I took her friends because she wouldn't go without them since she didn't want to be stuck with dusty old Dad for a week. I sure as fuck had no designs on those girls at all. Literally did not enter my mind." I kind of shrugged at Wanda apologetically. Regardless of my alleged near suitability, I knew it was still fucking wrong.

"The three of them, independently, decided that they should rescue me from my life of long-term celibacy." I said. "Each of them was damned persuasive." I sighed. "All I begged for was that it be a one-time thing. Which they all promised!"

"Oh, you poor mother-fucker," Cheyenne said, voice absolutely dripping with sympathy. "But since Wanda caught you in your backyard, I guess you decided to break that promise."

"Mary had other ideas," I said sheepishly. This part of the tale was feeling a lot less fun.

"How about the other two, Clark?" Wanda asked across Cheyenne. I looked at her. She was teasing me, but not from a position of knowledge. Just a position of entirely inappropriately gleeful suspicion.

"No comment," I said with a sigh. Cheyenne laughed.

"See why I'm having so much fun evening things up with my husband? His best buddy is not only, funny and damned near stupendous in the sack, he's discrete, too!" She gave me a look that warned she was going to dig further at another time. Fat chance, woman.

"But wait," Cheyenne asked, thankfully letting her curiosity lead us to more entertaining, less guilt-ridden waters. Not guilt-free, just less guilt-ridden. "So you two just sent the daughter away and decided to run off to Vegas to fuck things right? I thought you said your husband knows?"

"Not even close to that simple," Wanda said. "Mr. Righteous here, who is way too God-damned morally upright for his cock's own good, refused, because he wouldn't do that to Yancey behind his back. Even when I told him it wasn't going to be behind Yancey's back, because he needed things to be even as much as I did, Clark said it was still wrong."

"You obviously convinced him," Cheyenne smirked, looking around.

"No. She went home and sucked Yancey's cock enough to convince him,," I said. "Then he called me, and he convinced me to do it."

"I did not blow him into submission!" Wanda contradicted. "I sucked his cock just enough to calm him down after his initial rather judgmental reaction to my idea. Once he thought about it, he realized that yes, we all three needed this, so he and I could be truly partners again, and also so he could not feel guilty around Clark all the fucking time."

"And you think this shit is going to work?"

Wanda shrugged. "Honestly? I wasn't sure, I just knew it was worth the chance, because crashing and burning would have been better than a lifetime of almost but not quite loving my husband. Given the way Yancey and I have been so far during the process, I'm pretty damned hopeful." She looked at me. "You are one amazing time, Clark, but even you aren't quite Yancey, not when he gives it his all like he has lately."

"Of course," I said. "You obviously had strong motivation to keep him around to begin with!"

Both women laughed as if that made sense.

My ass. Given the amount of positive feedback I'd been drenched in the last month or so, there was no way I was going to believe Yancey could touch my best efforts.

But it was good that Wanda believed it...

"For what it is worth," I put in, finding myself enthusiastic about the situation as well, "Yancey has been willing to go out drinking with me on Wednesdays again, like we used to back in the day. And I almost never think, 'Fuck Yancey' whenever I see him... or even when I'm sticking something in his wife."

"That's good to hear, Clark," Wanda said, with an innocent look. "The sticking things in me part, I knew about the drinks after work."

The curtain opened, and the hostess came in with a second bottle of mediocre, wildly-expensive, but certainly high-proof bubbly. She looked a little weirded out by how the three of us were sitting. Not that we had our hands all over Cheyenne and vice versa, but that we were just sitting there talking, and there was no gyrating going on. She popped the cork and went to pour for Wanda and me, then was startled to see Cheyenne hold out her glass and say, "Hit me too!"

The hostess cocked an eyebrow at that, but when Cheyenne shook her glass imperiously, she poured away. And looked almost enviously at Wanda and me. It didn't seem like she was wishing she were naked between us instead of our dancer. More likely, she was envious of us being in here with a liquored-up Cheyenne... "I'll clip the curtain back," was all she said, as she let herself out.

Cheyenne held out her glass. "To the perviest fucks I have had the joy of hanging out with in a long, long time!" We clinked in amusement, and she drained the glass in one slug. Then she turned to Wanda breathlessly, caressed her breast, then slid her hand down and back up underneath the outer camisole.

Then she froze, and Wanda smirked. The dancer's other hand left my cock all alone and slip up to grasp Wanda's other breast under her camisole. "He doesn't know," Cheyenne guessed.

"Nope," Wanda smiled.

What didn't I know?

"Can I show him?" Cheyenne begged like a little girl.

Wanda looked around. "There have to be cameras in here, right?"

"There is one," Cheyenne said, carefully not looking anywhere. "For my safety. But they have zero recording devices. That way nothing can get subpoenaed. Not all spouses who are cheated on are as chill and creative as you two!"

"Oh, I was not chill when it originally happened," Wanda snorted emphatically.

"I was five years divorced by the time I found out. I didn't even want to kill Yancey... much." I said, with total honesty.

"I just... I can't have this show up on the Internet," Wanda said, with a totally incongruous giggle.

"It won't, but why?" Cheyenne said with a laugh.

"Because I work in HR," Wanda said. "It would be..."

"Oh my God! You work for the sex police at your company?" Cheyenne giggled.

Wanda looked at her. "I am the Chief of the Sex Police at my company," Wanda said, scandalized at herself.

"Oh fuck!" I chuckled. "You are the PoPo!"

"I am not... Yeah, I'm the PoPo," Wanda sighed.

"Oh. My. God," Cheyenne said softly to Wanda. "I so want to shove my face up between the legs of the PoPo. But you really are going to say no, aren't you?"

Wanda looked at her. "It's weird that I don't want to say no. But no. I'm not interested," she said softly.

Cheyenne looked at her... and started fondling her boobs again. "Okay. I'll believe you," she said. She didn't look like she believed Wanda, but she said she did. "But I am going to show him," she added firmly to my companion.

Wanda looked she was going to say no to whatever fallback idea Cheyenne was referring to, but she sighed, grinned a little, and said, "Fuck it. Go for it."

The dancer did a little shimmy of joy and danced before Wanda for a second. Then she looked at me to make sure I as watching, a precaution that was... unnecessary. With a flourish, she grabbed the red fabric of Wanda's dress's over-camisole, and pulled it up. Wanda actually threw up her arms in a flourish, and Cheyenne pulled the cami up and completely off. It was not attached to the dress anywhere.

"Okay," I said, affecting a calm demeanor. "I need to know, should this really be called a dress at all? Or is it just a strange skirt?"

The long dress Wanda wore only came up to the base of her rib cage, where it hung from the front and back centerline straps that connected to the collar. With the over-top gone, and Wanda on a strict no-underwear diet this trip, her gorgeous breasts just hung there bare to the world, with just a long strip of barely tapering red silk between them.

The women ignored my hopefully funny question, which annoyed me because I actually kind of wanted an answer.

"You are not forty-four," Cheyenne said.

"Flatterer," Wanda snorted.

"I'm a dancer. Flattery is what I do," shrugged Cheyenne. "But I also still don't believe you are that old." Regardless, she slid to her knees between Wanda's legs and slid her torso upward, first crushing it against Wanda's pussy, just over the fabric. Then she pressed up further, dragging her perfect titties up the silk, then over Wanda's bare skin until she was pressing them hard against Wanda's own delicious mounds.

The two of them writhed together like that, faces so close as to almost touch, without actually doing so. Wanda was flushing. Hard. Her hands went almost involuntarily out to grab Cheyenne's curvaceous ass.

A light flashed on and off discretely in a corner. "Shit! Five minute warning," the stripper grumbled. She slid off of Wanda, and grabbed the top of the dress. "You probably want to put that back on now, unless you want the bouncer to see your girls when he comes in here to thank you for your patronage." She took one languid step toward me, and looked over her shoulder at Wanda. "Or maybe you shouldn't put it on yet. He might feel the need to tip you!"

Wanda laughed, but slid the camisole back over her breasts.

"Meanwhile, I need to give the man here a little something to remember for later," Cheyenne purred, and she climbed atop me, facing me as she straddled my lap. He pussy ground against my cock as she arched her back away from me, thrusting those tits right toward me. I just stared.

"This is the part where you grab her boobs, Clark," Wanda said, turning sideways and leaning on the back of couch for an interested view of Cheyenne's goodbye.

I can follow directions. I took a last fondle of those fantastic titties.

But Cheyenne leaned forward over me, draping them instead in my face, once more inviting me to suckle on a nipple. I let myself really clamp down this time and suckle away like a nursing eight month-old. Still no teeth. She had made her point.

Between us, I felt her hand caress my cock as her own crotch pulled away to make room, then she tugged my waistband out and slid her hand down in to grab my bare shaft, caressing it with eager tenderness.

"Damn," she said, turning to Wanda. "He even has a nice cock!"

"I've been enjoying it," Wanda admitted.

Cheyenne rocked atop me, fondling my cock wonderfully. This was great, even though I knew I was going to be left hanging, considering we could not have more than a minute or two remaining before time ran out.

"Guys," Cheyenne said softly, "I won't pretend I don't do this from time to time, but it really has been a few months since I've made the offer. I get out of here about two am, maybe one-thirty. I would be available to you after that, if you'd be interested in some more... extensive entertainment. There wouldn't even be non-recording cameras back in your hotel room, Wanda."

This was an extremely good time to make that pitch, what with my bare tool in her most excellent grasp. But I wasn't interested. Not then. And whatever else I had tried to do about my recently-ended dry spell, I had never tried any play for pay options. Considered a few, but never tried.

In my current situation, I was hardly going to want to give in on that front now.

Thankfully, Wanda agreed.

"That is tempting, Cheyenne. Even for me, I mean. And I can see Clark's eyes bugging out. But he is going to be so balls deep inside me around that time, I doubt we would even hear if you came to the door."

"I thought so, honestly," Cheyenne sighed. "But I had to hope." With that, she gave my cock a last stroke of eager pleasure... and kissed me right on the fucking mouth. She held it there for a while. At least there were no tongues, but it was a bit of a shock. She really was horny...

Then she slid to her feet and began to slide into her outfit once more. Damn, I was going to miss that sight.

A voice cleared its throat outside the curtain, and the clip was removed. The bouncer, a tall and very handsome man stepped in diffidently. "I am afraid the time is up, folks. We do have other people waiting for the room."

"Gotcha, Dale," Cheyenne said, extending her hand to Wanda to help her stand. "Best customers ever, man," she told the bouncer merrily as we stepped toward the door. Dale gave us a look that indicated that such words were genuinely rare.

I stopped to grab another bottle of water for the road, and looked back to see Wanda and Cheyenne bent conspiratorially over their phones. Then, with a quick peck on Wanda's cheek, the stripper headed off for the entertainers' locker room. Wanda strode over to me and snaked her arm through mine.

"Uber, nightcap, bed, bed, bed. Then bed. Now," she said into my ear.

I had already summoned a car.

We each grabbed a cocktail as we passed through the casino upon our return, and had them knocked back by the time the elevator deposited us on the high floor.

As it turns out, I was indeed still balls deep in Wanda at two am. Whether I still was at three am is a question. We had fallen asleep spooning by then. I was still inside her when I lost consciousness, and I was no longer inside her when I awoke, though I was still cradling her in my arms.

I slid away to pee and work some feeling back into my arms, and met Wanda on the way back to the bed, hurrying the other way. We had both had a lot of liquids the night before...

A minute to so later, I heard her call sternly from the huge bathroom, "Clark! Come in here."

"You summoned me?" I smiled, re-entering the echoey space.

"We have about three hours before we need to check out and head to the airport," Wanda said. "We can have another awesome brunch out front here, like we did yesterday," she suggested, inducing a grumble from my stomach. "Or, we can just grab a pastry at Starbucks later, and right now we see how much water we can slosh out of this tub we haven't even tried."

I was seriously hungry. I looked at Wanda. "It is a good thing we are naked and ready for the tub then, isn't it?" I said.

For what it is worth, hot, soapy water is not as good as cool Redi-Whip when it comes to lubricating a beautiful set of boobs you have your cock buried between... but it does do the job nicely. The whole process did slosh a lot of water, so there was that. It did not slosh as much as the overly vigorous doggy-style fucking we engaged in next, though.

That was almost a disaster. The tub was so big, we could go at it without even leaning on an edge. My cock was sliding in and out of Wanda as hard as I could make it go, and she was exhorting me to hammer her even harder. Her pussy clenched so hard on my shaft as she came that I instantly lost it myself and thoughtlessly drove into her out of control.

Wanda was coming and being pretty vocal about it, and I... drove her down into the water! My cock was still spurting, and I mindlessly held it pushed into her for far too long before I realized that I had her shoved down below the surface, and she had gone down mid-shriek!

Desperately, I hauled her up, pulling out as I did so. Wanda sputtered when she reached the surface and thrashed around. I clutched at her and held her, apologizing rapid fire until she shoved me away.

"Quit apologizing," she said, clearing her eyes again. "That was one amazing orgasm, even if it did get cut off by a little stark terror." I opened my mouth again, but she went on. "I am going to remember a lot of your little tricks, but that one I don't think I'll pass on to Yancey."

"Sorry!" I started up again.

"I'm yanking your chain, Clark! Let's go get the soap off and make out one last time in that shower," Wanda smirked.

It should have been fun, but I kept apologizing.

"Clark, say you are sorry."

"I am! I have been! I am sorry," I burbled.

"There, you've said it for the last fucking time. A little danger is a great way to end a fabulous sex-pilgrimage to Vegas. Now," she added, taking my hand and sliding it between her legs, "Maybe you could finish off what you interrupted?"

We didn't even have time to get through the line at the casino Starbucks, which was crowded due to a convention. Once we finally got through TSA at the airport, we fell on some pastries from a cart near the gate like wolves upon lambs. The boarding went smoothly, and the two of us settled into our seats. We didn't even have a third person in our row this time.

Suddenly, we were both awkward. Our laptops came out, and we were soon both swearing under our breath as we caught up on how much shit had managed to happen in one day. One fucking day...

Secretly, I was pleased with my team, not that I would ever let them know it. They had screwed up a situation by the numbers, but they had corrected it and moved on without my gentle screaming. I guess I passed my management test.

Wanda's team was functioning smoothly, the rest of her company was not. A senior sales associate had been arrested. By the real police, not the sex police. Wanda had to read the sordid tale as told by twelve different people. There wasn't much she could do, but she had to be thorough about not doing anything.

I got done with my computer first, and tried to nap. With a sigh, Wanda at last closed her laptop. I peeked an eye open, and when she saw that, she sagged against me, resting her head on my shoulder.

But after just a moment of that, she straightened up in her seat.

"Clark," she said softly, almost tentatively. "Um..."

I carefully did not react. I wondered if I was right about what she wanted to say.

"I think, when you get me home, I'd like you to come in with me to talk to Yancey," she said slowly. I just looked at her. "I would like to tell him that I am tearing up the fourth hall pass," she said in a rush, as if to get it out there and not take it back. "I... I don't think I need it. He and I are even. The toothpaste is out of the tube for both of us, and frankly, it is all over everything."