Long after the Game Ch. 04

I noticed she had on a pendant – it was a long pendant, that came down to right between her breasts, with something small and flashy on it, to draw attention, and it was finished off with white stiletto four-inch heels.

I literally did not know what to say - she looked like a nineties' porn star, but classier. I opened my mouth to say something and nothing came out.

"OK," she said, "Yeah, I can imagine this is a bit of a surprise. So, here's the deal. I want to make new memories with you. But there is a new part of me. Something I discovered. We've never really talked about it, but we should. I don't know how much you know of...what happened. But I found that I really get off in...potentially discoverable situations."

She waited for me to respond. Clearly, this was not a conversation she was relishing, and it could go sideways for her based on my response. But she was having it, and I felt that deserved some respect.

"Yeah, I was aware."

She looked down, and was obviously embarrassed. "Well, regardless of how it was discovered ... it's part of me now. And... I want it to be something we do together. Something we explore together. I am monumentally sorry that we didn't find this together. I will carry the shame of that till I die. But it's there and... well, you deserve better. You deserve to be the recipient of this. And well..."

She drifted off. I went over and picked up a glass and filled it with water at the tap, taking big gulps. Drinking early in the day dehydrates you drastically. Plus it gave me something to do while I tried to digest this. I knew, intellectually, that this day would be coming. Deanna had been putting on the full court press and so her setting us up for getting in the sack was inevitable. But, even with knowing it was coming, I was unprepared. But how do you be prepared to get back in the sack with your ex wife, who betrayed you completely, and in doing so, discovered a turn on switch that you had nothing to do with. There was no manual for that and I was at sea.

I gestured to Deanna and said, "Let's sit down for moment."

Deanna looked at her watch worriedly and said, "We have reservations at the Camelot Steakhouse in half an hour...?"

"Deanna," I growled, "Sit. Down."

She sat, anxiously.

"Look Deanna, this is going mighty fast. This..." I gestured at her outfit, "this night club, your.... expectations. You never asked me whatIwant. You just seem to assume I'm going to climb back on the boat and then just bounce all over the rapids, and I... well, I'm just not sure. You seem to think we are just going to jump back in the sack and it'll all be great, and you'll get your jollies and..."

"Hush, baby..." said Deanna, leaning forward and putting her fingers on my lips. She smiled at me – properly, for once, not that bright and brittle one she'd be using a lot recently. "It's ok. I know its going fast. I don't know how to throttle this though. You've not exactly been full of feedback so far, you know?"

I just looked at her.

"Yeah, I get it. You aren't even sure where you are emotionally. I understand. I did something pretty fucking terrible and we've never really talked about it. The thing is, Ryan, I don't even know where to start that conversation. Besides saying sorry a million times, I don't know what to say. I guess, I was taking the cue from you. I need toshowyou, not just talk about it. You know? This is me trying to show you. I want to do things only with you. Not with anyone else. I know how I arrived at this hurt you terribly, and I cannot say I'm sorry enough. Not for getting caught, but for doing it. I betrayed everything I hold dear and important and I was so full of hubris that I thought it would never get back to me. I've learned since that that's never true."

She stopped and looked down.

"I don't know what else to do, Ryan. I need to show you that you are the most important person in my life. That all I want is you and our life back. There are new dimensions to me, but I need to work that into our...new relationship. You know? Please? Meet me half way?"

I just sat there, staring at her. I thought about our lives together. I thought about the hurt I've been through. Then I thought about what Solomon had said about my dry spell. And I thought"What the fuck. I can't be hurt any more than I already have been."

"OK. Let's do this. If it goes too far, I reserve the right to stop it, ok? But... sure, ok. Go on then, lets live dangerously."

Deanna's wide smile reached her eyes – she gave me the smile that a wife gives her husband when he's made her happiest. The one that goes right through you and is only for you.

"You won't regret this," she breathed at me.

"The outfit though... that's a bit....?" I said, trying not to be rude about it but not letting it go, either.

"Oh this? This is about you. This is about me teasing other people and you knowing it's just for you. The thing is, this is Vegas. We know no one here. I can go out and wear this and not give a crap what any one thinks because we are so far from anyone who matters. It's about titillation and fun, and I want you to be as hard for me as I am wet for you by the end of the night, ok? Just for you. So don't be surprised if there's a little flashing going on. Alright? Just a warning..."

And so we went out. And heads turned everywhere we went. We went to dinner and instead of sitting across from each other, she insisted we sat next to each other. And she had her hands in my pants almost immediately after sitting down, and had my fingers up her dress, where I found she had no panties on.

She kept leaning forward, almost daring a breast to come free. Occasionally I looked around and there were never less than four or five pairs of eyes, willing it to happen. Some of them were women, too.

I made eye contact with one guy, and he gave me a thumbs up and nodded at Deanna and then sighed, theatrically. His wife, sitting opposite him, looked around, spied Deanna, eyes narrowed, and then she swung around back to her husband. I made a point of not looking over there again. He wasn't getting laid tonight, I was sure.

At one point Deanna pushed her fingers into herself, then sucked on them, then ate some lobster and smiled sweetly at me and whispered, "Well, it might taste like fish, but I think I taste better. Want to try?" and offered me her fingers. And, I'm ashamed to say – oh who am I kidding? I'm not ashamed at all - I sucked on them. And enjoyed it. A lot.

As we were walking out of the steakhouse, we walked into an assload of younger girlies, all dolled up and wearing the same - or less - than versions of what Deanna was, althoughslightlyless slutty. I couldn't see a guy around and was wondering what was up until I noticed that the restaurant was right next to the venue for the Thunder from Down Under. Not, as I joked to Deanna, a show featuring farting Australians, but, in fact, their version of the Chippendales. Disgusting if you ask me. All those guys cavorting in next to nothing, flexing their pec's for women to scream over. Just not right in any way. Obviously. No, I'm not a hypocriteat all.All guys will back me up on this.

I was happy to note that Deanna got some admiring glances even from this audience. One girl even came up to ask her where she got the dress. To be honest, even I wanted to know that.

We went and played craps for twenty minutes after dinner. Deanna, doing her best to line up for Slut of the Year, vanished for a minute, then came back and insisted on rubbing the dice before I threw them out, grinning and winking at me the whole time. By then I knew what she'd done – she'd gone and rubbed her hand all over her pussy and come back and coated the dice. I honestly had no idea she had this kind of mind. We'd been married years and I'd never seen any thing like it. It did make me wonder what she'd been doing for the past eighteen months, to be honest. Her diaries said one thing but this... this was pretty wow.

And then it was time for the nightclub. It was almost midnight by the time we got up there – having forked over a hefty fee to get in, to a guy who had his eyes out on storks when he got a load of what Deanna was wearing.

The view from the club was breathtaking, although the view next to me was pretty outstanding too. It was weird, being there with the woman who had had my kids, who I'd been through thick and thin with, yet her dressed – and behaving – in a way that I'd never even dreamed of, let alone expected. But this was one hell of a ride, no question, and I wasn't getting off it, despite other people's attempts to get me to.

Guys hit on Deanna, even with me right there. One guy wanted to 'dance' with her, and she was demure, and just said "No". He hung around until eventually I was forced to explain what stalking was, and nodded at the bouncers.

Even then, when I went to the bathroom, I came back to find a couple doing their best to cozy up with her. She was laughing and drinking a drink and doing every freaking thing a woman does with body language to convey that she is interested. It was outrageous flirting and the couple was not pleased when I came back and literally just pushed myself between Deanna and the guy, with my back to him.

Deanna, to her credit, threw her arms around me and made kissy face and told me, "I'm so glad your back honey. We have unfinished business." Which was nice.

But other than that, most people just kept their distance and made do with the floorshow. And she put that on, in spades. We danced and she allowed the skirt part of the dress she was wearing to ride up a little. With it being so tight around the thighs, it tended to do that anyway. So everyone got to see she was wearing thigh highs.

It was all a new experience for me. While I've always thought Deanna was hot, I've never been with the most obviously hot and slutty woman in the room before. I could feel the gazes on my collar – ranging from "Lucky Man" to "What does he have that I don't?" to" How do I get me one of those?"

It took a few drinks, but I finally relaxed into it – Deanna was obviously out of her mind, but it was pretty sexy, and what the hell did it cost me? If only Solomon could see us now.

The only bad part was the bouncer wagging his finger at us, when Deanna was groping my groin in the corner. He walked past, glanced at us, stopped, did a double take and just looked at us and then wagged his finger.

I looked at Deanna and she looked at me, grinning wildly. She put her arms around me and breathed in my ear, "I am so wet, I'm going to leave a stain on these chairs."

I just looked back at her, adjusted my crouch and said, "Time to get out of here?"

She tilted her head and gave me the most porn filled smile and said, "lead on, my pussy awaits."

So we left. And had sex in the elevator. She knew there were cameras and she didn't care. The elevator took exactly 62 seconds to reach the floor of the casino and she had my dick out and was impaled on it almost instantly. I was as hard as steel and she was both wet and hot. And tight. I could see her face reflected in the chrome doors of the elevator, eyes screwed up, moaning softly. I watched the floor numbers go down and managed to extract myself before it hit zero, but was still zipping up when the doors opened. Well, trying to push that steel cock back into my pants and do it up, anyway. Deanna did at least stand in front of me as I desperately adjusted myself trying not to zip my dick up in the zipper of my pants. I've seen Something About Mary and I didn't want to make that mistake.

We went straight to the other bank of elevators, the ones that go to the rooms, and up we went, to the 34th floor, where I proceeded to do her again, with her bent over the little wall that stopped people falling into the casino. I figured we got two for one there – potentially being seen AND fear of death from falling!

Honestly though, I didn't last that long. I was hot, she was hot, I hadn't had it for months and she was wet, very willing and just wanted it. We hadn't had sex that hot in years, if ever.

I blew my load in two minutes of pumping and she straightened up and turned and just kissed me. She was just lost in lust and it did pass through my brain that at that precise moment, it may not have mattered who was fucking her. It was the environment and everything that went into it that was doing it for her, not me necessarily.

Quickly, to mark the moment, I dragged out my phone and got a picture of her, disheveled, and wearing the dress, one boob threatening to tumble out, with a magnificent smile on her face. I then forwarded the picture to my email, because I've learned that trying to get a photo off an Apple iPhone without dicking around with iCloud is a nightmare. Simpler to send it to your email using a draft email, and you can pick it up on your PC later easily.

Anyway, we tumbled into our room, and it went on. She went down on me with a passion, and I was hard as a rock again in about seven minutes flat. Another record.

She threw all the drapes open, and I was ok with that, because we were on the 34th floor and there were not other hotels looking in on us, so why not.

And then we fucked. Well, we did. We had, as Michael Douglas called it, in Basic Instinct, "the fuck of the century". It went on and on, and for some reason I lasted for almost two hours. I even got Deanna's ass, finally. She'd come complete with lube and almost begged me for it. I went easy; I know it can be painful and I didn't want to hurt her, but after a few minutes, she was pushing back on me.

We did every position we could imagine. I ate her, she sucked me, we kissed and made out – she even licked her juices from my face. She talked dirty, on occasion... now I look back on it, it was like every porno movie you've ever seen, made real. It should have felt tawdry and sleazy and I suppose it was, but it didn't feel that way at the time.

I had her over the couch, on the bed, pushed up against the door, on the bathroom counters... everything we could think of. She particularly liked me doing her from behind when she was facing the mirror, so she could see herself getting banged, and see me at the same time. Making eye contact when doing it doggy style is not something you get to do every day.

The second time I exploded, she insisted I do it on her face, with her tongue out, telling me, "Give me that cum. I want that cum, I want to taste it. Blast it on my face." So I obliged. I did not kiss her afterwards though. I have some limits. I know some guys get off it, but it's a line for me personally.

We slept for about four hours, and I woke to her sucking my dick, something that had never happened in the past for me, and I suspected might never happen again. But I got that bucket list item checked off.

She was going at it with enthusiasm, stopping only to look me in the eye and say, "Got a third time in you, lover?" and not waiting for an answer, went back to it. My body betrayed me, or at the very least, didn't ask permission, and boom, there it was, instant stiffy. I'm sorry, I challenge any man to not get an erection when being awoken that way, by an obviously hot woman who can't get enough of your dick. Right. Thought so.

And we did it again. Slower this time. I mean, by now, shemusthave been getting sore, right? I know I was starting to chafe a little. But it was nice. We chose positions where we could look at each other while we screwed. She wanted to be done up against the windows, but we couldn't because the windows have such a slant on the, being the side of a pyramid and all. This time I ended up blasting what little load I had left into her in the missionary position. I ended up clambering off and trying to stretch a muscle in my thigh which was cramping up. I looked back and saw her, scooping my cum out of her puffy pussy, and licking it off her hands. She locked eyes with me and said, "I've so missed you. And learning about doing this with you."

I just smiled back and said, "Glad to be of service."

We barely left the room the next day. We slept in, got room service brunch, then went back to New York New York to do the roller coaster, and back to Nine Fine Irish man, where we lubricated ourselves for another evening.

That evening, on Saturday, we had another nice meal. This time French, at Andre's in the Monte Carlo hotel. Afterwards we had cognac and a cigar – well I had a cigar anyway – in the lounge bar, where we pretended to be British Aristocrats, and people watched.

Thankfully, Deanna was less 90's porn star and more classy mom that night. I don't think I had another night like the one before in me. We did talk about fantasies though.

"So, I know we talked about it before. When we were married..." Deanna coughed a bit on her Courvoisier VSOP, "Sorry. That phrase. It's like the title to a book. Anyway, I know we talked then, but what about now? What about after last night? I mean... I was abitwild..? Did it...totally change your view of me?"

I considered my response, taking a deep sniff of the brandy, and then taking a drag on the illegal Cohiba cigar I was smoking. I was doing my best impression of a deep, grown up man I could. I could tell she wasn't impressed.

"I don't think it changed it that much. Added something, for sure. A new dimension, something like that. It's not like I hadn't already seen it though. I knew it was there."

She looked away at that. After a minute she asked, in a very quiet voice, "So... where are we, do you think? We've gotten back on that horse now, so to speak. What are you thinking? I can never tell any more."

I gave her a lop sided smile and said, "Occupational hazard I'm afraid. I was hurt and I don't wear it on my sleeve any more."

She nodded and said, "Yeah, the therapist said that would be a likely result of my..." she swallowed and finished, "affair."

"Look, I dunno Deanna. Last night was... well, awesome. No question. The phrase, 'a good time was had by all' certainly applies. But we have bigger problems than that. We have a car that has been badly damaged. One good screw doesn't fix it."

Deanna's face slowly fell, and then she muttered, "I'll bet you've been waiting all day to use that."

"I'm not saying there is no future Deanna," I said, gently, putting my glass down and leaning forward. "I'm just saying I don't think that trust is rebuilt that easily, you know?"

Deanna pulled one leg up onto the chair, and wrapped her arms around it and put her chin on her knee.

"I know. I know. When I started out on this, I told you that I knew trust wouldn't return quickly. I'm just trying to give you a reason to even try, you know? Give you a reason to want to even try," she said, not looking at me.

"I get it Deanna. I really do. But after what happened...well, you can't really blame me for being a bit standoffish, can you? I'm here aren't I? We are doing this, together. Some people would have bet that we would never be here, doing this, having these drinks and stuff. Hell, I am one of the people who would have made that bet."

Deanna sniffed. "I know. You are right, it's just... so hard. We've been apart so long and I've been thinking about you so much. I just want to pass go and collect two hundred dollars, you know?"

She thought for a moment and then brightened and said, "But you are right. I shouldn't push. We've done more than I imagined we would have already. You know, the girls said we had to redefine our relationship. That the one we had is broken and gone and now we have to build a new one. I'm trying. I hope you notice it?"

I smiled and picked up the glass and took a small sip and said, "Sure I have."

"Good," she replied, "so are you going to try too?"

And that was the sixty four thousand dollar question, wasn't it?