We raise our granddaughter. This has very much limited our sexual activity, especially things that would be done not behind a locked bedroom door.
It was January right before all the craziness of Covid hit. Our granddaughter was invited to a sleepover birthday party. The party was on a Saturday, and she would be spending the night. After I dropped her off at the party I drove back to my house to see my husband standing in our drive with three travel bags at his feet.
“We are going to take a small trip,” he said.
He placed our bags in the car and away we went.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Not sure to be truthful; thought maybe going bar hoping around NKU.”
We had a few times, in between raising children and raising our granddaughter, gone down to the university and misbehaved.
We drove down close and found a hotel. It was not a Motel Six, but a chain motel like that. I was kinda trying to figure out what my husband had in store for the evening, but he said was not sure. We got our bags and went into our room. It was simple but clean. Two queen beds and a TV to boot. My husband went into his suitcase and pulled out some clothing. It was my outfit for the night.
He had made a pair of shorts that were very, very cheeky. The sides had been cut out and the shorts were held together with a white ribbon. The crotch of the shorts could not have been more than a half an inch wide. I would have to be careful, or I was doomed to be showing everything this evening. My husband picked out a thin white top that hugged my body. Oh yes, no undergarments allowed.
My husband was dressed a lot more conservatively than myself. We drove around a while and found a bar that served food and looked to be a favorite with the college crowd.
Being dressed like I was excites me, but leaves me with a pit in my stomach. Especially now, as I was going to be around a bunch of hot, young college girls to be compared to. I always worry young guys are snickering—goodness look at that old slut—behind my back.
The place was very busy, but we were able to get two seats at the bar. Even though there was a lot of skin showing, I was dressed much more provocatively than any other girl there. We ordered our dinner, and my husband got me several cosmos which is about the only alcoholic beverage I come close to liking. After dinner and a few of the drinks, my husband made me turn around, lean back against the bar, and face the crowd.
The outline of my breasts could be made out under my shirt, and my husband put his hand on my leg. That was my signal to spread my legs a little and to be not so ladylike. The couple that was sitting next to us settled up their tab and headed for the door.
Nobody sat next to my husband for a while, until a blond college-age gentleman bellied up to the bar. He sat there drinking by himself for a while before he struck up a conversation with my husband. It was very loud, and I could pick up very little of what they were saying. My husband talked to both me and his new friend over the next half an hour.
My husband looked at me. “Let's get going, hun,” he said, giving me an evil eye.
We returned to our hotel. My husband kissed me hard before he opened the door. He abruptly removed what little clothing I was wearing before I could enter the room. Then he shut the door. I stood there naked before him. He reached into the third suitcase and removed four leather cuffs and some thin rope.
He moved me to the side of the first bed and bent me over the mattress. My feet were still on the floor. Spreading my legs, he tied them to the feet of the bed. My ass was pointed to the door and my hands were then stretched and bound to the opposite end of the bed.
He then placed a blindfold on me and gave my ass a swat. I don't like blindfolds even though it is just me and my husband. It makes me feel so vulnerable.
He ran his finger down the crack of my ass and down onto my pussy. My body quivered.
“You are my slut and I do with you as I wish.”
“Yes sir,” I said excitedly. “I am yours to command. My body is yours.”
Then there was a knock at the door. I could hear him moving towards the door. I thought it was hotel personnel wanting something.
“You can't answer the door, Dave,” I begged. “No!”
The door creaked open. I knew whoever was at the door would have full view of my ass and pussy lips. My stomach felt sick with the kind of guilty feeling that hits you when you know something is wrong. I could hear two voices. One was the guy at the bar and the other was black. I could tell by the way he talked. I heard them step into the room as the door shut.
“Damn, you was right. Look at that tight white bitch's ass.”
“I told you she was a hot piece of ass. Should’ve seen what she was wearing at the bar.”
“I want to fuck that tight little married ass.“
“No, no anal sex,” I begged. “Please, please.“