Room Service

I wrote a story, once, about my husband’s excitement when I sat with one of his work colleagues, wearing just a very revealing chemise. Bear in mind, he doesn’t even like me baring my breasts on a beach……………strange creatures, men. But, read the story “Showing off” and you’ll get the picture.
There was another occasion, a few years ago, when a similar event occurred. We were in Holland, staying at a rather nice hotel. We’d had a late night and, on arriving back at the hotel, arranged breakfast, for the following morning, to be delivered via room service.
I woke up and, not remembering the breakfast plan, I hopped in the shower. Feeling refreshed, I just patted myself with a towel, to take off the excess water and, still wet, slipped my nightie back on. It was already warm so I’d dry naturally, very quickly. Still towelling my hair, I went into the bedroom, unaware the waiter was dishing out breakfast. So, there I was, stood in this short, strappy nightie, which clung to my wet tits and bum, being ogled by a waiter.
I had a choice. Run back to the shelter of the bathroom or finish towelling my hair where I was. I glanced down at hubby’s shorts. He’d clearly slipped them on for decency’s sake when the waiter knocked. Oh you naughty boy, I thought, when I saw he was hard. Clearly, the thought of running back to the bathroom disappeared from my mind. I threw the towel through the bathroom door and went towards the table. “This looks nice”, I announced, pointing at the spread.
I looked towards the mirror. Wet, straggly hair. Nipples showing through the nightie. I sat at the table, affording the waiter a better view of my cleavage. I realised my nipples were quite stiff now, but, hey ho, so what. He’d wank himself daft later. I manoeuvred my shoulders to let the strap fall. As it did, my right tit slipped out, fully on view. I muttered a very soft Oooops and pulled the strap back into place.
Hubby sat down. He was ever so flushed. I gave him that knowing smile and traced my tongue back and forth along my top lip.
I looked down at my chest and then straight into his eyes. Another slight movement of the shoulder , and out came my right tit again. I looked down at it, then back at him, making no attempt to cover it.
The waiter poured the coffee, his hand visibly shaking.
And so it went on for a couple more minutes before he left to, I presume, wank himself off.
After he’d gone, breakfast was completely forgotten. Hubby came behind me and, in one simple movement, I stood up and leant forward across the table. As he pulled my nightie up to my neck, I spread my legs and felt his cock go straight in. What a boner he had. He just fucked me. No passion. Just a good, rock hard fucking. A couple of minutes later, I was squirting and he was shooting his load.
We didn’t talk about it really. Well, until a few weeks later when we were in a hotel somewhere else………….