Tracy Stockton

I actually took Tracy with me to the local diner for breakfast, after we snuck out the back, before we returned to the hotel. I'd debated just dropping her off at the front door, but instead I pulled into the parking lot and got out to go in with her.

"Thanks for going to breakfast with me," I told her as she turned toward the front desk, where three women were standing. The one woman I recognized as the manager, as I'd had to rearrange my reservations with her; the other two I didn't know, other than to know I'd seen them occasionally during the day, as most days I exited from the rear of the hotel, and they were long gone, replaced by the evening shift when I came back at night.

"That was nice not to have to eat alone, let's do it again someday," I said for the benefit of the hotel manager and others within earshot, thereby setting in motion the thought that I'd asked her to go to breakfast with me, and that she hadnotbeen in my room, whether any of that was true or not. "See ya!" I added with a wave, as I walked on by, not giving the others a chance to interact with me, or question how it was that their fellow employee had been to breakfast with a customer.

It didn't take long for me to collect my things. With my coming back to the same room every week, I could leave "extra" things there and travel with just a small bag of mostly dirty clothes. I'd normally be heading to work at this time anyway, so all that was remaining for me to collect was my toiletries.

I purposely ignored Tracy, who was still standing and talking, pretending I didn't even see her. I stopped and got a fresh cup of coffee to go before I went back through the lobby to my car. I pulled around the corner and out of sight of the hotel, just pulling over to wait. It wasn't long before I spotted Tracy leaving in my rear-view mirror, pulling away from the curb, and following her as she drove by. Pulling into a visitor's space at her condo, I started to get out when she approached and told me, "Stay here, I'll only be 5 minutes." I pulled out my cell phone, getting caught up on the morning's e-mails, before I spotted her returning. She was pulling a small suitcase, which I was glad of as I knew it would easily fit into the overhead on the plane. My wife, Ellen, seldom traveled that she didn't have a larger suitcase that needed checking. But, on the other hand, Ellen always seemed to have the perfect, immaculate outfit with her, also. I smiled to myself; Tracy obviously hadn't brought much in the way of clothes -- but then again, I had to wonder: would she need any? Not if I had anything to say about it.

Tracy had changed clothes and was now wearing tight-fitting jeans and the same blouse she'd had on that very first night when I'd checked in. I really liked the way it left her chest and much of the tops of her breasts exposed. "I like that top," I complimented as she slid into the passenger seat, "very nice."

"Glad you like it, it's one of my favorites, too." I'd watched her as she slid into the seat, momentarily noticing that the blouse pulled forward from her shoulder, letting me see into the exposed cleft above her breast. It wasn't until I'd started up and began to move that I glanced her way again -- realizing that I hadn't seen a bra strap like I had that first night at the hotel. As I straightened the car and headed forward again, I took still another look to my right, seeing the wonderful form of her breasts, but again not seeing any sign of a bra. "Where are we going?"

"To the airport."

"Now? But the flight isn't until 3:30."

"Was at 3:30. I changed us while I was waiting. Ellen hadn't been able to get us seats together, and when I called they said they couldn't change us to be together on that flight as it was almost full, but they could get the two of us together on the earlier flight if we could make that, so I just changed it. I texted Ellen that we'll be home about 4 instead of 7."

I mostly kept my eyes on the road, but couldn't help letting my eyes swing to the right momentarily, whenever I could, to ogle my new lover, wondering what would happen this weekend. Ellen, having said she expected and was approving of me having sex with this little minx, was one thing. But Tracy, having told me that Ellen wanted to also be "cured" of a case of Yellow Fever? That was a bit of a surprise.

"I've got to admit, I lied to you," I said aloud after we were on the freeway and up to speed.

"You lied? About what?" Tracy said, looking over at me, finding me nodding in agreement. "You lied to me? When?"

I nodded. "That first time we talked... during your lunch... when you said you thought I had Yellow Fever?" Her head nodded, and I continued. "You said you thought I had it, but I denied it."

Tracy giggled. "You couldn't hide your eyes. They gave you away." She didn't say anything for a moment and then asked when I'd realized it.

"That first night, after meeting you at the front desk when you were wearing that top," I said, letting my eyes drop to her chest. "I thought you were cute and sexy, but it wasn't until I woke up a few hours later with a hard-on, dreaming of you topless, showing me your tits and asking me to fondle them, that I knew you were stuck in my head. I didn't know that was "Yellow Fever" at the time, but I certainly had thoughts about what it would be to... how did you say it, "to get into the panties of the pretty Chinese girl?" She laughed outright this time, more than just a giggle.

"Topless, huh?"

"It was a dream. You came out wearing that top, but instead of pinning your name tag to your shoulder as you did, you had the top pulled down below your breasts to give enough cloth to pin the name tag to. Your co-worker and the other customer weren't paying you any attention and didn't even look your way. I reached across the counter with one hand to fondle your tit, and you told me your other boob was feeling left out. I leaned across and fondled you two-handed for a moment, and then you looked over at the other clerk and that customer, so I did too. When I looked back, it had changed. You were no longer topless, and I wasn't fondling you, but you told me maybe next time I could take you dancing."

"Go dancing?" she queried, a bit befuddled, "Like you danced for me this morning?"

I understood the confusion; she couldn't have known the double meaning of dancing at that time. "It was my dream, obviously, you couldn't have known what that meant, but I did."

"So, you like my tits, huh?" Tracy said, and without warning, reached up two-handed and pulled her top down, letting the elastic pull back just below her bare breasts. It was now obvious that, as my eyes had detected earlier, she wasn't wearing a bra.

I swerved at the unexpected display beside me. Luckily, where we were and the time of day, the traffic was light, and I didn't come close to getting into trouble. My eyes went to the rearview mirror and sides, confirming that there were no other cars around us at that moment. "I've always liked my tits, too. I just wish they were bigger." Her hands slipped up, and she cupped each boob, her fingers closing against her nipples.

"Oh my God, no," I said, my eyes now spending as much time on my topless seatmate with her hands fondling her tits as they were on the road. "Why would you want to fuck with perfection?"

"You really think they're perfect?"

"Will you put those away and get them out of my sight before you cause me to get in an accident?" I didn't answer her question about perfection, knowing I really didn't need to.

"Is this good enough?" She giggled again, her hands rising and totally cupping her bare breasts, hiding them from my view. She didn't make any moves for a moment, and when I looked back again, I saw her tongue slither between her lips, a look of lust and craziness in her eyes. "I don't suppose you know of a place between here and the airport where we might be able to stop and go dancing for a while? You really were... a good dancer, this morning."

I'll have to admit it, my mind rapidly went over every possibility of a place that would be at least semi-private between where we were and the airport, but with my limited knowledge of the area, and the population constantly increasing as we got closer to the airport, I knew that wouldn't happen.

"No, and we don't have time anyway -- but I can take you dancing as soon as we get home, and we can dance as much as you desire all weekend long."

With that, she pulled her hands away and slipped her top back in place. I hadn't noticed before, but her nipples had expanded and were now easily detectable through the top that was tight above and below her breasts, but was otherwise loose-fitting.

"Why aren't you wearing a bra?"

Her head nodded. "I don't like bras and don't normally wear them. I have to wear one at work, but otherwise my girls are small enough that I don't need one, so I don't." I nodded, easing to the right lane to merge onto another freeway, finding this freeway with heavier traffic, forcing me to watch the road more and Tracy less.

"Who's a better dancer?" Tracy asked, "You or Ellen?"

I thought about the answer before opening my mouth. I knew that Ellen had been "dancing" with her girlfriends, even before we ever met. I knew she said I was good with my tongue, but despite our openness around others when we weren't together, we'd never actuallyplayedtogether. Sure, we'd talked about sharing; she knew my fantasy was to have a threesome with her and one of her girlfriends, but I didn't think it had ever come close to actually happening. And now, bringing a lover home with me for the first time, I suspected it would happen this weekend. She hadn't said anything to me directly, but having bought the ticket, and told Tracy she also had Yellow Fever... I reached down and rearranged my cock where it was bunched in my pants.

I knew a threesome had happened for Ellen; at least once when she'd had a trip back to her hometown. As usual when we traveled alone, I'd just slipped a box of condoms in her bag before she left. She set the box of a dozen condoms on the counter when she returned, and when I picked it up to put it away, I could tell it was light. When I opened and looked, I found there were only two left. She hadn't said anything about it, but that night in bed when I said, "Ten times in three days, huh?" she'd giggled and proceeded to tell me how they'd made her girlfriend's husband's fantasy come true. She knew a threesome with another woman was also in my fantasy future -- but it had just never happened.

"I don't know. We've never played that way... together," I answered Tracy's inquiry. "It's always been a fantasy of mine, but it's just never happened."

Tracy nodded. "She's played with others without you?" It was my turn to nod.

"I told you that she and her two girlfriends get together once or twice a year, but they always go away to do that. I think it's so they're not distracted by men, truthfully. One of her girlfriends, the one she spent the weekend with, is married, and the other one... well, Ellen's never told me, but I suspect she's a lesbian. Not interested in the opposite sex." My eyes had been shifting back and forth from the road to Tracy, judging her response while keeping track of the other cars around me. "What about you? Ever had a threesome?"

Her head nodded. "Twice. Three times, if you count our playing with Kathy's cousin Randy that summer when he was there. But I never fucked him. Once with Kathy's boyfriend and her, another time with one of my boyfriends and Kathy. It was never quite as hot as I thought it would be, though."

"Oh? Why was that?"

Her head cocked sideways momentarily as I could see her thinking. "I guess because once those guys got two naked babes willing to accept their cocks and let them fuck them, all they could think about was themselves. The funny thing is that Kathy and I both broke up with our boyfriends not too long after those threesomes, for the same reasons. We were taking good care of them without them taking good care of us."

"Kathy... do you still see her?"

Tracy's head shook no. "Yeah. I mean, no, it's been..." she stopped, and I could see her counting, "over three years. Before Daniel and I got married. She went away to college, and we keep in touch, but I haven't been with her in several years. We're still good friends, best friends really, just not physically together much. We chat and FaceTime all the time. I expect it might happen again someday."

"Make new friends and cherish the old?" I said, the old song about friends popping into my mind.

"What about Ellen? Has she ever met any of your old lovers? Any old girlfriends, or your... liaisons... while you've been traveling?"

"Just one," I answered. "The woman in Argentina went back to Sweden after that project, I send her a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year note every year. And the woman in Spain... well, she was special. If I weren't in love with Ellen, I could have pursued her for something more. We met three times, once in New York, once in Madrid, and a third time she flew to Italy and met me in Naples for a long weekend when I was working in Sicily. That was when I knew she was special, but also the last time we ever got together. We've never met again, and Ellen has never met her. I suppose if we ever get to Spain, I'll look her up and Ellen can meet her."

"What about the one that she has met? Who was that?" Tracy asked, looking puzzled. I looked over to her and gave her a wry smile, and that was all it took for her to realize I was talking about her. "Oh."

~

Tracy slid into the middle of the back seat of the Uber, my hand moving to her knee as I slid in behind her. "It's cheaper to pay for an Uber back and forth to the airport than it is to pay for airport parking," I'd told her when she queried how we were going to get to the house. "Faster, too. The Uber meets us at the loading zone, and we're almost home faster than the parking shuttle gets us to the parking lot."

"I don't care how we get there, but I want to go dancing as soon as we do," she'd whispered for me to hear as we'd walked through the terminal.

"Somebody a little pent up?" I'd whispered back to her as we pushed our way through crowds of people going the other way. I was holding her hand to keep from getting separated.

"Not as pent up as I was before this morning," she whispered. Reaching over she put her hand on my arm and said, "I think my panties are soaked," talking a bit louder than perhaps she needed. I saw the head of a woman walking by us sharply pivot towards Tracy, and then she was gone. Glancing back over my shoulder, I could see that the woman had stopped and looked back at us.

"That woman heard you."

"Do I care?"

"Apparently not," I answered with a smile and a squeeze of her hand.

~

It was impossible to tell if anyone was home or not when we got there. With both of our cars normally in a garage at night and the doors closed, it could have been just about any weekday. Unexpectedly, the front door opened as we stepped onto the porch, and Ellen greeted us with a big smile.

"What are you doing home?" I asked with surprise as she put an arm out to hug me. I leaned in and gave her a quick greeting kiss.

"When you said you'd be home earlier, I told work I was leaving and just came home." She turned from me and reached her arm out, and while I suspected they'd never touched before, Tracy also stepped forward to receive a hug. When Ellen also offered her a greeting kiss, she returned the quick peck, not hesitating to let their lips meet. Releasing the hug, Ellen's hand slipped down Tracy's arm, their fingers catching as they looked at each other. "Oh My God, this is going to be fun."

Ellen had apparently been home long enough to have changed from her work clothes, now wearing a bathing suit cover-up. I didn't think too much of it, as her norm, whenever we had people over to the house for swimming, was to wear a cover-up when she wasn't actually in the pool. Whenever we were alone, Ellen and I would usually swim naked, but despite that she had several swimsuits that were what she called "decent" for public consumption; she just wouldn't walk around in her swimsuit, almost always wearing the cover-up. That she often wore a cover-up on vacations also went through my mind, as I had to wonder what swimsuit, if any, that she was wearing. Away on vacation, she (almost) always indulged me and allowed me to buy her a new swimsuit, most of which were not, in most cases, naughty enough to not be fit for public consumption. But even though she wouldn't buy sexy swimsuits for herself, she always enjoyed the attention that came from wearing practically nothing on the beach. She'd never walk into the hotel without putting a cover-up on -- but she always enjoyed my reaction to her being practically naked outdoors.

She had several of these 'vacation' swimsuits now. One was a one-piece thong 'bikini', another a very skimpy two-piece from Malibu Strings. Yet a third was a micro-bikini from Wicked Weasel. That one had very tiny triangular cups for the top that barely covered her nipples, and a thong bottom. That one was "almost" see-through when dry, but turned completely translucent when wet. Her nipples and pussy, as well as pubic hair, were totally visible when she got it wet. I couldn't help but wonder if she had on one of her 'decent for everybody' swimsuits, or one of our special vacation numbers. Any time she put these on around the house I knew she was wearing them for me, and that she wanted sex.

"Go empty your clothes in the dirty clothes hamper," Ellen told me, "and I'll start showing Tracy around." Still holding onto Tracy's one hand while Tracy had her bag in the other, Ellen started down the hall toward the bedrooms, while I headed to the laundry room.

In my travels, I'd long before learned, when I got home, the first thing to do was empty my bag, and we'd get clothes washed over the weekend -- but if I didn't, come Sunday night my clothes were still dirty. I never liked to just leave laundry for Ellen to do, although she always told me I should leave it and she'd do it. I always told her she was my wife, not my maid, although she always answered that she didn't mind.

"Oh, Jim!" Ellen called, and I stopped to look back down the hall from where I was heading the opposite direction, "After you put those away, will you go start the grill? I brought us home some Ahi Tuna steaks for dinner."

As usual, Ellen already had clothes sorted into piles, probably sorted out even before she left for work that morning. I emptied my bag and added mine to the proper piles before taking the first load and putting it in the washer. With the wash started, I moved to the patio and got the grill opened up and started. I glanced down the hall toward the other end of the house as I stepped back to the kitchen, but didn't see or hear anything from the ladies. The tuna steaks I found waiting in the refrigerator, pulled them out along with the proper seasonings from the cupboard, and set everything on a tray to take outdoors before heading down the hallway.

I couldn't hear anything when I left the kitchen, but heard gentle murmurings the closer that I got to the bedroom.

All the clues had been there: Tracy being braless, Ellen in her swimsuit cover-up, and almost silence from them as I approached. Stepping soundlessly to the door, I stopped in the entryway to observe.

Tracy and Ellen were both lying beside each other on the bed, locked in a passionate kiss. Tracy's top had been pushed up above her breasts, Ellen's hand cupping a breast -- her fingers twiddling a nipple. Tracy's hand was on Ellen's breast, the cover-up still in place. As I watched, Ellen's hand moved to Tracy's other breast, her fingers going directly to her nipples.