A Night In New York Ch. 01

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Alaina Dawson

I AM TRYING DIFFERENT WRITING STYLES. THIS IS A STORY OF A COUPLE MAKING THE MOST OF A LUCKY BREAK HOWEVER SPECIFICALLY IT INVOLVES TEASING SO THE EROTICA IS DELIBERATELY LONG AND DRAWN OUT. ALSO THE LABEL DROPPING IS A NOD TO THE STYLES OF THE EIGHTIES LIKE BRETT EASTON ELLIS (WITHOUT THE PSYCHO OBVIOUSLY) BUT AS I SAID THIS IS AN EXPERIMENT. THE SEX GETS MORE HEATED IN LATER EPISODES SO THIS IS A TEASER EXPERIMENTING WITH TEASING.

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The taxi dropped us at the hotel. As we got out we realised how extravagant the hotel was, we were expecting something posh but this level of opulence was mildly threatening to our comfort zones. There was an usher who found a porter to pick up our luggage and take us to the reception.

We felt underdressed in our combination of Debenhams, Peacocks and eBay (possibly knock-off but don’t ask) BNWT clothing. We had worn our finest for the journey, but now we were seriously doubting ourselves. But both the usher and porter were incredibly pleasant and were smiling and polite. The receptionist was all smiles and the bell hop that took us to the room was relaxed and friendly and took our, what we thought to be, meagre tip graciously.

This trip was due to a competition win, a 5-star luxury weekend break in New York at the Surrey on East 76th Street. A penthouse suite with balcony, flights and restaurants all paid for, and with £5000 spending money to top it off. It really was the win of a lifetime and we were planning on making the most of it. The kids were safely with their grandparents and we were in New York! We unpacked our bags, looked at each other and grinned. We phoned down to the front desk and ordered a taxi.

Within a short time we were on 5th Avenue. My wife had done her research and knew which shops to hit first. It was mid-January and the city streets were cold but not too busy. As she was 6ft tall our first stop was Uniqlo, a department store to be sure, but the devil take the hindmost (ok, that was going to be me later this evening). Then it was Anthropologie, Banana Republic, Lord & Taylor, Club Monaco, Saks and Bergdorf Goodman, BCBG and finally Valentino, Intermix and Gucci. I didn’t really need much myself, some nice jeans, shirts, designer tees, and a suit or two but my wife went to town, and she wouldn’t let me see what she chose.

I knew she was mostly stocking up on basics like most Brits on a spending spree in NY, but she spent a lot of time looking for a few very special things that were to be a ‘surprise’, this wasn’t our money after all, and like good English peasants without an ounce of Protestant Ethic, the bane of Adam Smith and romanticised by Thompson, we were going to spend it and enjoy it. We were going to sin our way to heaven and get slaughtered, holed up in a New York Surrey Cathartic castle surrounded by the forces bahis firmaları of Mammon, deep down in the belly of the Beast. After visiting a few shops I had enough and retired to a bar to drink some of New Jersey’s finest cask ales and a quality bourbon or two whilst my wife continued shopping.

The competition company had planned our long break for us, and tonight was dinner at some restaurant called No. 24. When we got back from our shopping spree there was champagne on ice in the room and we had time to relax before we were to be picked up. I was already sozzled but I broke open the champagne whilst my wife put on a fashion show for me.

I just sat back on the bed, propped up by pillows, champagne flute in hand, relaxed, chilled and watched the entertainment. My wife retired to another room, giggling at the idea that we could, and put some of her new purchases on, whilst I lay back and sipped champagne, the bubbles making my nose tingle and getting a bit giddy with the decadence (the bottle said it was a Boërl & Kroff Brut but I didn’t know what that was until I was home days later and googled it but it tasted nice), plus the beers and bourbon earlier.

My wife soon returned to the room as I had patiently listened to the sound of scuffling and giggling behind the sliding door, she was dressed from feet up in white stockings, high heels, wearing a long pink silk jersey dress by Valentino (so she told me), that was pleated and flared softly around her legs and a white gold choker and matching earrings, with contrasting dark purple lipstick and matching nail polish. My cock went hard immediately, who the hell was this incredible woman? I mean this was the woman I counted my blessings for having married every day I have been with her, I fancy her in a tracksuit and baggy jumper with bad bed hair but with her incredible body enhanced by the subtle veil of sexy clothes, we would never previously have imagined affording, she was a woman reborn. A goddess.

I tried to say something, but I was stuck for words. She smiled, put her finger to her lips to shhh me, and crawled across the bed on all fours towards me, took my champagne glass from me downed it, and kissed me, then putting her finger to my lips now, unzipped my jeans, pulled out my highly erect cock and started to stroke it, I moaned slightly, she then bent down and started sucking me off. I was in heaven, she took it slow as I fondled her arse through the silk realising she had no panties on, only a garter to hold up the stockings, she seemed to be aware of when I was about to come as she stopped, precum dribbling off her mouth as she sat up. She patted me and said that that was enough. I could have screamed and then with a shit eating grin she told me she was off to try another purchase on.

I was on edge, in a pleasant way, that feeling kaçak iddaa of wankus interruptus, but without the barging in of the kids, instead with I was left with a feeling of electric toe-curling anticipation. Yet again I heard the giggling and scuffling, she had taken another glass of champagne with her and I had poured myself another. It had occurred to me to wipe her lipstick from the glass but instead I savoured the taste as I sipped as if it was somehow still the taste of her own lips.

When she came back in she was wearing a different pair of high heels, the stockings darker this time, she had another dress on, this time in a black cowl-backed cocktail dress that she said was by some designer called Talbot Runhof, and with it was another choker, this time it looked like a broad semi-circle sheet of gold. Her lipstick and nail varnish were now blood red. My wife did a turn in a circle before me. Once again, she looked incredible and, yes, my cock that had hardly subdued since last time with the anticipation due to all the noise behind closed doors was harder than ever. Something I was painfully aware of as I had not done my jeans up since last time and it was standing to attention in plain view.

Once more she put her fingers to her lips and did the cougar crawl over the bed covers towards me. When she got to me she again put her finger to my lips and drained my champagne glass. She pulled my jeans and pants off and left me naked from the waist down. She took my cock in her hand and primed it, not that it need it. She then licked her fingers pulled up her skirt and played with what again was an pantyless vagina. She knelt over me and very slowly lowered herself on to my cock, and started to slow pulse fuck me, she started to rock harder and more vigorously she was clearly very turned on by the extravagance.

I wanted to say something to her but she put one hand over my mouth, the other on my shoulder as to my surprise she started to shudder slightly cumming quicker than I had known her cum before. I started to buck back as hard as I could despite her hand on my shoulder as I was close to cumming too. But she suddenly laughed as she recomposed herself and got off my lap and walked chuckling to herself back into the other room. I was left sitting there in an incredibly horny state of shock.

We were there for three nights so I expected my wife did one more personal cat walk. However, I jumped slightly when she threw the sliding doors open and stepped forward into the room arms outwards having thrown the doors open, one leg, bare but with gladiator style sandals, crossed over the other and she held the stance. She was wearing a leopard pattern fake fur coat (Shrimps Lassie I was told later) and what seemed to be a flimsy knee length skirt beneath it. She stalked towards me crossing one kaçak bahis foot in front of the other as she strode to the bed. As she got closer she through the fur coat open dropped it to the floor and I saw she was wearing the sexiest summer dress I had ever seen her in underneath the coat, it was button fronted and open at the shirt neck down to her cleavage, and the material had a bird print (some label called Akris). She had a platinum chain with a platinum tassled drop pendant, and again matching earrings. This time her lips were a pink colour but she had kept her nails the same.

She twirled around sauntered to a nearby chair leant forward over it and started twerking, she then lifted her dress and slapped her arse so hard that she left a red mark and beckoned me over. I didn’t need asking, already naked I walked towards her, penis erect before me. She was fingering herself from behind as she looked out of the window over the New York skyscape. She didn’t look behind her as I positioned myself behind her and started to fuck her. She was writhing and groaning and pushing her arse into my groin. I grabbed her hair with one hand and a breast through her top with the other and started to pound her hard, she practically screamed a gargled cry and her legs buckled. Then she slapped me on the side told me to stop and asked me to pull out. Which I did even though I hadn’t yet cum, I was confused but horny and I was enjoying this control game.

She told me she just had one more thing to show me, and then she wobbled on slightly unsteady legs back to the now de facto changing room and slid the doors shut. I heard a sigh and decided to get back on the bed and drink more champagne, I had wobbly legs, was felling sensitive all over and I was feeling far giddier than before.

Lying relaxed for a while I heard her call out asking me to close my eyes. I knew I could cheat and peak but I was really enjoying this game, so I kept the tight shut. I heard the doors slide open and my wife walk towards me. I heard her whisper that this was the last thing before we had to go out. She asked me to open my eyes and there she was, again from the bottom down black sling backs, black stockings, and a black silk satin slip dress by Helmut Lang, with a long triple looped pearl necklace, with the blood red lipstick and nail polish again. She knelt on the bed and again crawled towards me. I knew she was going to fuck me properly this time. She took my cock in her hands and started wanking me, then she bent over my penis and gave me another blow job. As befitting the occasion, it was slow and luxurious, with the pearl necklace falling down onto my groin, slightly cold. I was so pent up by then I started to feel like I needed to cum but I wanted to cum inside her so as my cock started to throb I tried to hold it in. She stopped and sat up, ‘Right we’ve got to get ready, the car will be here soon’, she said. I looked at her stunned. She kissed me and said ‘come on’, and looking down indicating my cock with a nod of her head’ and don’t you dare touch that’.

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