As the second wife of a very well to do businessman, I admit that probably some of my life is completely stereotypical.

I just turned twenty-seven this year, and my husband, Daniel, is forty-five. I’m blonde, petite, and I suppose a bit “preppy,” having been a former college cheerleader and fine arts major. Daniel and I met on a website for sugar dating. We started off with just a little ‘arrangement’ while I was finishing up my MFA, and it quickly became more. Before I knew it, we were engaged — and we got married in Hawaii about four years ago.

At the time, everyone of course had an opinion. People called me a whore, bimbo, a gold-digger, but cliché of clichés: we were madly in love, and mine is not at all a marriage of convenience, no matter what it might look like on the outside. However, in spite of how happy Daniel makes me, I will say that initially I felt out of my depth and almost uncomfortable, as I processed that transition from girlfriend or mistress to full-time wife. It probably boils down to my age at the time and my lower self-confidence — two things that have since happily changed.

My husband has two kids with his first wife, so between the kids and the business trips, I was (and still am) often left to my own devices. This honestly doesn’t bother me so much now, but back then I felt like a third wheel, not to mention, I was bored.

I wanted to set up my own studio space, but that would mean not being able to travel with Daniel — and as he is a somewhat dominant man, he prefers it when I am readily available when it comes to picking up and going with him. So, for the sake of our marriage, and with the enduring promise that he’d help me open my own gallery, I smiled and accompanied him to the next hotel in the next city, or stayed in our suite while he dealt with his teenagers (who of course hated me). Things seemed to lull on like this for a while — until around this time last year, when Daniel was invited to some meetings in Colorado with fellow financial bigwigs (you might think of them as the “Wolves of Pot Street”.)

While Daniel had a full itinerary for most of the weekend, I had the opposite schedule: nothing, nothing, and nothing, tra-la-la. And having lived in warm areas for most of my life, those snowy slopes are lost on me. I tried out the bunny hill in order to blend in with some of the other ‘work wives’ — and for the most part, managed not to embarrass myself. After a couple of hours though, I ended up bowing out and heading for the spa.

I decided to start off by warming up in the sauna. As I peeled off layer after layer of wintery clothing in the ladies locker room, it already felt so good to feel my bare skin again. I stood fully nude in front of the full-length mirror securing my hair up in a ponytail. Behind me, I noticed another woman arriving, so I hurriedly wrapped up in the soft terry towel and stepped instead the luscious steam.

Happily, I had the huge sauna all to myself. I unwrapped part of my towel so my bottom was covered and left my breasts uncovered. The transition from what passes as “room temperature” to the wondrous sauna heat was already giving me goose bumps and making my nipples stand at attention. I cupped my breasts, closed my eyes, and leaned back.

After a few moments, the sauna door opened, and the same woman who’d entered the locker room when I was getting undressed arrived. She had dark hair with a pretty side fringe, light eyes, and, as she dropped towel, a full set of pendulous breasts (either she had some incredible genetics — or a great plastic surgeon) and a full bush. She smiled at me; I smiled back and looked down demurely.

I settled in again and was deep in the middle of visualizing all my anxieties sweating out through my pores when there was a whisper in my ear: “Excuse me — I don’t mean to disturb you, but do you happen to know anything about the masseurs here?”

Startled, my nipples pinged again as I met the gaze of the blue-eyed brunette. “Oh! Uh, you know, I’m not sure, but someone told me today to try out Ericka or Jean.”

She smiled. “Thank you, that helps. I’m Sylvia, by the way.”

I giggled. “No problem. Allison.”

“Allison,” she repeated and looked me over. “This might be crazy but I think I’ve seen you before. Were you in Arizona like two months ago?”

I nodded. “Yes, actually. My husband travels a great deal, so I go with him.”

Sylvia grinned. “I knew it. I never forget a face.” Her gaze went to my breasts and then back up, “Or a body.”

I laughed nervously. I was already flushed from the heat of the sauna but could feel the blood rushing to my face.

Sylvia sat next to me. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I shook my head. “No, not at all.” I smiled at her. “After being chewed out on the phone by my husband’s ex wife the other day I think I just forgot that women can be kind to each other.”

Sylvia reached over and smoothed away a stray piece of hair that kept falling in my eyes. “I understand. If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”

“Twenty-five, but it’s my birthday in February.”

“And how long have you been married?”

“We just made two years.”

Sylvia smiled. “And your husband — he’s is that adorable silver ‘grizzly bear’ I’ve seen escorting you through lobby?”

I laughed. “That’s him. He isn’t as grouchy as he looks sometimes.”

Sylvia laughed. “Well, that’s a good thing. Jet lag can do weird things to     a person.”

Suddenly feeling safe around her, I added: “sometimes I wish I could get him to relax more, but oddly enough now that we’re married he never slows down.”

Sylvia touched my arm. “I know what you mean. My own Richard — if I want to see him, I schedule it.”

“Really?” I must’ve looked so shocked.

Sylvia laughed and shrugged. “Oh, no, it’s ok. We find each other again eventually. But, in the meantime, I find ways to divert myself — ”

And that’s when she leaned in and kissed me — and for a second, I found myself feverishly kissing back. I could feel the blood rushing to my clit already — and yet, I pulled away. “Wait — .”

“Hmm?” Sylvia looked into my eyes as she smoothed my hair back again.

“Are you — are you sure — ?”

“Sure? Honey, did you see what I saw in the mirror? You’re gorgeous.” Sylvia giggled.

I smiled, “I mean, should we be doing this in here?”

“Why not?” Sylvia kissed me again — and this time there was no going back.

Her pillowy lips worked their way from my mouth down my neck, and then went straight to my breasts. As she sucked on my nipples, her nearest hand unwrapped my towel and went straight for my pussy.

“Oh god,” I moaned. I squirmed and opened my legs wider as I felt her fingers stroking my wet clit.

Sylvia cupped my breasts and kissed my neck again. “You just leave everything to me.”

She took both of our towels and put them aside and guided me down on the bench. “You have such beautiful legs. Were you ever a gymnast?”

I smiled. “Cheerleader.”

Sylvia chuckled. “Of course you were.” She kissed my inner thighs as she spread me wide, leaving every inch of me exposed. Her fingers tussled my trimmed pubic hair. “Mmm, I love a pretty pussy. Let me taste you.”

She started off by sucking on my clit and fingering me with two — and then three fingers — and I was quickly swept away. The sweet scent of the sauna mingling with the smell of my arousal clouded away everything else in my brain.

Suddenly it didn’t matter where I was or who might walk in — all that mattered was the sensation of Sylvia’s tongue and fingers: probing, teasing, and stroking — and quickly taking me over the edge.

After I came and caught my breath, she kissed me again and got up.

“Wait — .” I panted. “Don’t you want a turn?”

Sylvia smiled and kissed me again. “Are you free for dinner later?”

“Sure. My husband has some kind of long evening tonight.”

“Good.” She smiled. “I’ll leave my card by your locker.”

Reeling from my first girl-on-girl encounter since college I basked in the afterglow after she left for quite awhile. Then, on wobbly legs, I made it to the shower.

True to her word, I found Sylvia’s card. We made plans for an early dinner. Certain that dinner would surely lead to a very decadent dessert, I made sure to wear some sexy lingerie beneath my strappy black cocktail dress — a burgundy lace demi bra and matching thong and garter belt. I left my hair long so it tumbled over my shoulders in loose curls.

Sylvia was just as stunning with her clothing on. She wore a silver strapless number that set off her icy blue eyes and mahogany hair. I knew she was older than me, but based on her looks, I never would have guessed she was my husband’s age when she told me later!

We made mundane conversation like that at first — almost as if she was sort’ve feeling me out more. Finally I couldn’t help myself: “I just wanted to say thank you for today. I needed that.”

Sylvia smiled and sipped her wine. “I could tell.”

“Should we get out of here so I can reciprocate?”

Sylvia chuckled, “Well, about tonight — ”

For a moment I was crestfallen thinking she wasn’t interested. But then she reached over and touched my arm. “I fully intend on having you again. However — I wanted to ask you about something first.”

“What?” I asked.

“I’m guessing that I’m not your first girl?”

I laughed and shook my head. “I was a cheerleader in a sorority. What do you think?”

“Very good.” Sylvia grinned. “So, what if I told you that I have some other female friends here who more or less share our predicament, hmm? Busy husbands, lots of time,” she leaned in and whispered: “lots of pent-up horniness.”

“Are we going to meet those friends?”

“If you’d like that, I’d be happy to take you as my guest to a little party tonight. You wouldn’t be obligated to participate, per say — but it is something of an exclusive little club, so I need you to be discreet.”

“Of course.” I nodded. “So, is this like a sex club?”

Sylvia laughed. “Yes, but it’s a little more than that.” She paused. “Do you participate in any BDSM with your husband.”

“Not in an official sense, but he’s the one ‘in charge’ more or less.”

‘Well, our little club is about service: sometimes you need an outlet to serve and other times it’s about being served.” She tapped her manicured nails on the rim of her wine glass: “We play, and it more or less helps keep each in other in balance. You follow?”

I nodded. “I think it sounds like something I need. I feel lost.”

“I could tell that when I saw your face in the mirror — I wasn’t just looking at your tits you know.”

I giggled, but then looked serious: “I want to serve you tonight, Sylvia.”

She squeezed my hand. “Very well.”

We polished off our wine and headed into the elevator. Once inside, Sylvia opened her purse and took out a satin blindfold. “I have to insist you slip this on until you’re a ‘full member.’

I felt like I was inside of a movie as she led me to an unknown floor and down the hall.  Rather than knock on the door, Sylvia had a key card. As she led me inside, I could hear voices and chatter from a few rooms over, so I guessed this was one of the bigger suites.

“Do you really want to serve me?” Sylvia whispered in my ear and removed the blindfold.

“Yes.”

She lead me down a small hallway into a private bedroom: “Strip.”

I obeyed, pausing to show off my lingerie.

Sylvia smiled and tsked me. “It’s very pretty dear, but it all has to go; I have something else in mind.” She opened one of the dresser drawers and removed a large velvet clutch.

“What’s in there?” Fully nude, I went to embrace her.

Sylvia gave me a little kiss and pulled out this thin, gossamer chain that sparkled in the light. “This pretty chain makes something called a karada when I wrap it around your body just right. You’ll be fully exposed–but you’ll be all mine.”

My skin tingled and my nipples pinged as she draped the cool, soft metal around me. Once I was “dressed” I couldn’t stop looking in the mirror!

“Wow,” I said, looking from my reflection to Sylvia.

She smiled and unzipped her cocktail dress to reveal a leather bustier and what I discovered later were crotchless panties. “Shall we head in to the party?”

I nodded, once more feeling like this was some kind of strange erotic dream.

Sylvia took the excess length of chain that trailed behind me and held it as she guided me into the suite’s large parlor. Normally I would feel at least mildly self-conscious being nude in a room full of people, but with Sylvia’s hand holding the chain and resting on the small of my back, I felt powerful and beautiful. But I certainly wasn’t the only naked woman there.

The lights were dimmed, but no less than eight other women in various states of undress were there, either just chatting or idly pleasuring each other.

Sylvia cleared her throat. “I have Allison with me. She wants to serve.”

Suddenly I felt all the eyes in the room turn to look at me. But before I could instinctively cover myself or succumb to shyness, Sylvia put her arm around me. “Isn’t she magnificent?”

I blushed a little, listening to all the murmurs of praise and approval. Sylvia ran her hands through my hair and kissed me. “Come — ” She guided my chain over to a free chaise lounge and sat down. “Kneel.”

I followed her and obeyed, kneeling in front of her.

Sylvia opened her legs, revealing her smooth-shaven pussy to be already soaking wet. “Now, ignore everything else and just taste me.”

I planted a small kiss on her inner thigh and dove in with wild abandon. It had been so long since I’d tasted the musky flavor of another woman that I was instantly intoxicated. Her large pussy lips felt utterly delectable tugging between my fingers while I stroked her clit with my tongue.

“Oh god, yes!” Sylvia cried out, cradling my head so my entire face was completely and utterly consumed by her cunt.

I slid my fingers inside of her and began to pump them in and out. She moaned louder. “Mmm, that’s right. Now, reach down and touch yourself for me.”

With my naked pussy highlighted but fully exposed in the karada, I was all too happy to do so.

“Do you like serving?” Sylvia smoothed the hair from my face.

I nodded.

“Good, keep going. And lick my asshole too.”

I eagerly obliged, feeling myself just get lost once more in pure sensation. When Sylvia finally came (and actually squirted), I heard a round of applause behind me.

I turned and looked to see all these gorgeous women who were clearly captivated by our little spectacle.

Sylvia gently tugged my chain so I faced her again and gave me a kiss. “You did wonderful. Did you enjoy?”

I giggled and nodded.

Sylvia helped me stand up. “Well then — how would you like to be served now? Because I think I might not be the only one here who’d love to make you cum.”

What followed from that point was one of the most intense sexual encounters I had ever experienced. A beautiful busty redhead brought out two king-sized pillows, and another blonde girl brought out some toys, including a strap-on. Then this really gorgeous black girl with a great ass helped Sylvia lay me down and prop me on the pillows in the middle of the parlor. Another brunette with smaller tits smoothed my hair out of my face and kissed me. And from there, my body became a veritable playground.

Surrounded by beautiful horny women, I felt probing wet tongues trace down my neck, over my nipples, and all around my clit. They licked and probed my pussy, my ass: where one trailed off, another began. It was endless delight across every inch of my body. Naturally I came from having my pussy eaten — but the ladies weren’t finished with me, not by a long shot.

I was gently turned over and placed on all fours. The redhead positioned herself underneath my tits in the front so she could suck my nipples. And from behind, Sylvia lightly swatted my ass and spread me wide. She stroked my tormented clit some more: “You want me to fuck you now?”

I turned and nodded. “Oh yes, please!”

Sylvia grinned and entered my pussy with a strap-on. A few moments later, I felt two tongues teasing up the respective sides of my ass before they took turns probing my sensitive rosebud — and then someone gently inserted a small vibrator back there. In that moment, I wondered if it was possible to die of pleasure.

The sensation of the redhead sucking my tits while I got double penetrated and licked was quickly taking me up and down another wild orgasmic wave. In the end, I came so hard that my entire body spasmed and I saw stars.

When I finally opened my eyes and regained some composure, I found myself relaxing in Sylvia’s arms. Some of the girls were snuggled near by — others had gone off to their own pleasurable ends.

My ears were still ringing from all the blood rushing to my head. “That was incredible.” I whispered.

“Welcome to the club.” Sylvia kissed my forehead.

And what a club it is! You would never guess its existence, but where there are bored housewives cooped up in expensive resorts with absent husbands, look closely and no doubt you’ll spot us.