I just couldn’t believe it when I got home from work that night and Annie showed me the telegraman uncle she hadn’t seen in years had died and left her $100,000! I flopped into a kitchen chair and just stared at that telegram. Somebody was playing a joke, I decided. This kind of good fortune out of the blue happened only in the movies. It certainly didn’t happen in real life, and not to people like my beautiful Annie and me.

But it was true, all right, and once I realized that, once I was sure no one was going to come and take it away from us, I started to share my wife’s happiness. We had so many plans for the money, we didn’t know where to start. A new place to live? Of course. A car to replace the wreck that could barely make it to the diner and back? Absolutely. Some nice new clothes for Annie and me? You bet. But first, first, a vacation.

“I want to go to Beverly Hills!” my wife announced excitedly.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because that’s where the rich people are,” she shot back. “And we’re rich!”

I tried to explain to Annie that while it was fantastic to have $100,000 dumped in our laps, it didn’t exactly make us rich. We would have to use the money carefully; otherwise it would be gone before we knew it. Annie agreed, but still she wanted to spend a long weekend in Beverly Hills flaunting, if only for a few days, our new-found wealth. “We’ll eat in those snobby restaurants and shop in those fancy stores,” she said dreamily. “It’ll be like living in a whole new world.”

I had to admit it sounded good. And I sure didn’t want to deny Annie her taste of the high life. For ten years of marriage, I had been able to do little more than keep a roof over our heads and put food on the table. The necessities we had; it was the luxuries we lacked. I could think of other places to visit, like Las Vegas, for instance, or maybe even the south of France, but if Annie wanted Beverly Hills, then that’s what it would be.

Well, let me tell you, it was something else. Talk about being in the lap of luxury. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when the bellhop showed us to our suite, a knock-your-socks-off mini-apartment with fancy paintings on the walls and this real plush carpeting on the floor. There was even a color television in the large marble bathroom!

I quickly learned that there are three activities to enjoy in Beverly Hills: eating, shopping and looking for celebrities. Annie and I did all three, in spades! We had a total of ten meals during our stay and we ate each one in a different swanky place, the only exception being when we had breakfast in bed. Boy, did Annie love that! She was like a queen sitting up in bed and lingering over each tasty morsel of food. As for me, I ate food I had never even heard of, food with fancy French names and stuff, but it was all pretty good. Especially the desserts!

Annie was like a kid with a new toy as we strolled on Rodeo Drive. She got such a thrill when she spotted somebody famous. At first I felt awkward mingling with all those rich people. Out of my element, you know? I mean, me, a short-order cook, trying on $500 suits! But after a while I got into it and even started to strut a bit. The good life sure felt good. But what really made me feel like a million bucks was watching Annie try on those beautiful, expensive dresses — the way she twirled around in front of the mirror, beaming with joy. I wanted her to have everything, including the fur coat she fell in love with the moment she slipped it on. I fell in love with her all over again that glorious weekend.

In her new clothes and expensive makeup, my wife was a vision of loveliness. I had always thought she was pretty, but now she was simply beautiful. I had never seen her happier — or sexier. And her new appreciation of me was also a turn-on. It was as if she was seeing me in a new light, not as the hardworking, stay-at-home type she had married but as a handsome, kind of worldly dude with style. And it was true that in these fancy surroundings, riding around in limos and wearing my spiffy duds and dining in elegant restaurants, I had gained a lot of self-respect and confidence. I looked and felt better than I had in years, and my darling Annie was obviously impressed with the new me.

We made love with real passion that weekend, and it was usually Annie who initiated it. At night, having returned from dinner, she’d get out of her clothes and then help me out of mine, carefully folding everything so that it didn’t get wrinkled. Then we’d kiss, long and hard, and soon she’d be sinking to her knees and wrapping those warm, wet lips of hers around my already stiff cock. Annie had never been particularly fond of oral sex, either giving or receiving, but that weekend she fellated me with gusto.

I felt like a king standing there in that super-fancy room and looking down at my wonderful wife gobbling my root, especially when, with my cock in her mouth, she’d look up at me and wink — just like I’d seen a girl do in a porno flick. Sometimes she’d play with her pussy while sucking me and moan around my cock. And once she even snaked a finger under my balls seconds before I came — in her mouth! What a wildcat!

Eating Annie was nice too. I reveled in her newfound appreciation of cunnilingus and would enjoy myself in the heady aroma and delicious taste of her aroused pussy. She’d be sprawled naked on that big, comfortable bed mewling with pleasure as I tongued her clitoris and slurped up her juices. What a joy it was to make my wife come like that, with my face pressed hotly into her steamy sex and my tongue teasing her little love button.

But best of all was when Annie and I made love. Well, you couldn’t really call it making love. What it was — was fucking. Beautiful, erotic fucking. Annie had never been more responsive, more eager to receive my cock than she was that weekend. We did it every which way, with my wife asking me for a second round soon after the first was over. And to get me ready in a hurry, she’d go down on me, stuffing my wilted member into her mouth and sucking furiously until I was erect again.

On our third and last night in Beverly Hills, following another day of shopping and celebrity-watching, Annie let me put a dildo into her cunt. This blew me away, because my wife had never, not once, let me enjoy her this way, even jerking my hand away whenever it wandered near the plastic love tool. That night, however, she not only said she wanted to see what it was like, she actually rolled over onto her tummy and, reaching back, presented her pussy for me! I quickly coated her pretty cunt and the dildo with baby oil, took aim and pressed slowly but surely into Annie’s love hole. Sensational! The grip, the way her vagina seemed to just swallow me up. It was all I could do to keep from coming right away!

And it didn’t help any that my wife was crooning with pleasure and saying how really good it felt in her cunt. My gentle little wife of ten years had turned into a deliciously exciting woman, and I reveled in the transformation, thrusting again and again into the warm, tight confines of her wet hole until we both cried out and came like an earthquake. When it was over and we had calmed down, Annie smiled shyly and kind of apologized for getting so carried away. I gave her a great big hug.

All good things must come to an end, they say, and before we knew it, Annie and I were back home and waiting for our photographs to be developed so we could put them in our album. Then it was time to sit down and discuss how best to invest Annie’s unexpected inheritance. Beverly Hills had been expensive, but we had a lot of money left, and we used it wisely. I was even able to go partners with a friend and open a diner. I still do most of the cooking, not because I have to, but because I enjoy it.

We have a new car, a new apartment and all the expensive clothes we bought in Beverly Hills. But, best of all, we continue to enjoy the great sex we found together during our brief but memorable time in the lap of luxury. We’re even thinking of going back, this time as the successful restaurateur and his elegant lady.