I could not help it; I told Chad every detail of my husband’s fantasy.
Right there in the bar, I told him everything, except that it had now become my fantasy as well.
Steve was clear across the country and was suggesting wild and crazy ideas to me over the phone. I was all alone in Las Vegas, but maybe not for long.
"I am going back to my room now," Marci said.
"Well, goodnight then."
"Really? That's all? 'Goodnight'?"
"Well..."
"I am all alone here. My husband, the perv who wants me to be with another guy, you might recall, is all the way on the other side of the country. I have no panties on, and I am very, very horny. It seems to me that a gentleman would escort me back to my room. After all, anything could happen, anything," she said with a smile.
What happens in Vegas?
