Valentine's in Vegas
My wife had planned a weekend trip for us to go from our hometown in Mesa, AZ to Las Vegas for Valentine’s Day. I had to admit that I was shocked. This was not the type of place that my wife would normally go. Sin City? If there was anyone that personified a virtuous woman it was my wife. I was no slouch as far as the Church goes, but I have to admit that in righteousness, she led the way.
Both of us were return missionaries and had met at BYU. I immediately fell for the 5’4” lithe, dark hair, dark eyed beauty. I still remember the excitement of those early years. We both enjoyed the physical aspect of our relationship. With the gusto of a pair of young virgins who had maintained their virtue for 20+ years, we enjoyed discovering sex together and were fueled by our mutual attraction for each other.
I was currently serving as a councilor in the bishopric of our ward. My wife, Sam, was serving with the Young Women. We had been in leadership callings for almost all of our married life. Not only were we serving in religion, but we were having great professional success too. Four years of undergrad. Three years of law school. Working my way up from junior associate to now starting my own firm. Sam had developed a love for fitness and ran yoga classes to mostly her friends and family. Beyond that she was an excellent mother and homemaker for our four kids - three boys and a girl.
So here I was, I had everything that I could want. This was my dream. This was our dream. Why wasn’t I happy? Why weren’t we happy? I know that from the outside we looked like the perfect couple. When ward members saw Jack and Samantha or Brother and Sister Stevens, they knew we had to be happy. How could we not be? How indeed? Sam and I were more roommates than a married couple. To say that we were in a rut was an understatement. I loved Sam. I knew that. I also knew that she loved me. But unfortunately life had gotten so busy. Sex life? What sex life?
Was it a lack of attraction? Certainly not from my point of view. If anything, I found that my wife’s maturity had only added to her beauty. Her devotion to fitness had kept her body tight, but her childbearing had widened her hips and augmented her breasts as well. She had some incredibly sexy curves. Not many could appreciate those curves though. Samantha was a stickler for modesty. She shunned clothes that were low cut, high cut, form fitting or sheer. Usually her body was hidden beneath attractive and modest clothing.
For my part, I certainly tried to stay fit. I worked out three to four times a week. Yes, my waistline had expanded a little and my hair had thinned, but still considered myself to be attractive. My wife still complimented me. That was something. Right?
Was it lack of desire? Maybe. We certainly didn’t have the excitement of the early years. I seemed to have a higher desire for sex and would try to initiate, but was rebuffed much more often than not. Honestly, though, sometimes I was grateful. I was so busy and exhausted from my law practice, my church responsibilities and my children. I would also have to say that I had some resentment. I didn’t feel like there was any effort on her part to be affectionate.
Several months back, my wife had begun to see a therapist. I had mixed feelings about it. She didn’t seem to want to talk about anything with me, but was free and open with her therapist. What did she have to be unhappy about? The only area of our life that was suffering was the physical aspect, and she was the one at fault in that area.
So you can see why I was confused that we would be going to Sin City for Valentine’s Day. She was so secretive about the trip as well. She said that she had handled all the details and only gave me a packing list. Typical Sam - always so prepared. I imagined that we would probably go to dinner and then go do a session at the temple. I certainly appreciated the temple, but this was our typical date night. Hoping that our spiritual connection would make up for the lack of a romantic connection. I was not going into this excursion with the best attitude.
After a short flight into McCarran International Airport and then a taxi ride, we arrived at the Mandalay Bay. We checked in and then made our way to a suite on the 20th floor. More surprise. My wife was very frugal. I couldn’t imagine that the stay here was cheap. And staying on the strip? The very center of Sin City. This was out of character.
It was late afternoon when we arrived. My wife told me to go jump in the shower to get ready for our date tonight.
“Sam, what exactly are we doing?” I asked.
“Oh just a dinner and a show.” She said with a smile.
I wondered if the show was just a little joke for a temple session. I quickly showered, shaved and cleaned myself up. My wife had my clothes laid out for me on the bed. As a lawyer, I had a number of business suits. This was a nice pair of slacks and a texture blue dress shirt with a red tie. Simple. Conservative.
My wife went into the bathroom to prepare herself. I was unsurprised to hear the bathroom door lock behind her. Even after all the years of marriage, she still didn’t like me to see her naked with the lights on. I let out a frustrated sigh. More of the same. I looked out of the large bay window on one side of the suite. The room was in the southeast wing of the hotel and the window faced the northeast. In the distance I could see Frenchman Mountain. At it’s base sat the Las Vegas Temple. I looked towards it. I did love the temple. And I did appreciate my wife for planning this whole trip. I was just frustrated.
I was shaken from my moodiness by the sound of the bathroom door unlocking. Out stepped the most beautiful creature that I had ever laid eyes on. My jaw hit the floor. This was not my wife. She stood before me in a was wearing a little black dress and black stockings which could never hide garments underneath. Her normally loose hair was pile high above her head in a very classy do which also exposed her neck. A diamond necklace adorned her throat and sat in the deep crevice created by her breasts and matching earrings framed her face. Her dress hugged her curves tightly. Her breasts stood proudly begging for attention. She approached me and gave me a short but soft kiss on the lips.
She looked at me demurely. “Are you ready for our date?”
I was speechless, “Uh… yeah… I mean… yes, yes.”
She smiled at my awkward stumbling. “Well then, let’s go”
She led the way out the hotel room door. I couldn’t help but stare at her. Seeing her openness, I wanted so badly to feel her body. But besides reassuring kisses, she did not let me get anymore affectionate. She was mostly silent, but had a self-satisfied smile on her face as we made our way out of the hotel and to the restaurant that she had reserved. It was a very classy place and we seemed to fit in with the crowd.
We sat across from each other at the restaurant. I felt like this was a first date. Who was this woman? Where was my wife. Where was the woman who spent hours preparing to teach lessons on Sunday proclaiming the need of modesty. There was nothing modest about my wife right now. Not in her dress and not in her attitude.
“I have a Valentine’s gift for you.”
At this point, I did not think I could handle any more surprises.
“Take out your phone.”
I looked at her questioningly. We had a firm “No phones” rule on date night- only for emergencies. I took my phone and handed it to her. She unlocked it and opened an unfamiliar app.
“Right now Jack, there is a vibrator inside of me. And this app is connected to it. And you, my love, can control the power and speed of the vibrations all with the tap of your finger.”
“Sam, when did you…?” I started. She just held a finger to my lips to silence my questions and then indicated the phone again. I stared at my phone in disbelief. I saw the dials to control it. I saw the green indicator which noted that it was currently connected to the toy inside my wife’s body. My fingers danced in anticipation. I touched my phone’s screen. My wife arched her back and her eyes closed as the vibrations traveled through her. Her breath quickened. She looked at me with such love in her eyes… no, not love. This was lust. I had never seen this look from her before. Slowly she seemed to grind in her chair while keeping her eyes locked with mine.
Who was this woman, I again wondered. Not the same woman who read scriptures stories to our children.
Throughout our dinner, I discreetly played with my phone. Sending electronic waves of pleasure directly to her sex. Each time I was rewarded by seeing her subtle movements of satisfaction. Why I enjoyed this little game, I was more than anxious to take her back to bed. My wife, on the other hand, seemed to delight in my frustration. She ate her food slowly and deliberately.
“The night is not over,” she said alluringly, “I promised you dinner and a show.” I was pretty sure at this point, we were not going to the temple. With every fiber of my being I hoped that she would be my show. But we got in a cab and my wife gave the driver an address that I did not recognize. We stopped in front of an building that the sign said was called Area 15. Like all of Vegas, it seemed to be a collection of bright lights and loud music.
Sam took me by the hand and led me through the building to a large door. Above the door it said “Rated Red.” Sam handed the doorman our tickets and he gestured for us to enter.
“What is this place, Sam.” I asked as we entered. The venue was small and intimate and had a low stage at the front of the room. We sat down. I looked around. This was obviously some sort of erotic, burlesque show. I imagined what my Bishop would think if he knew we were here. Despite the AC, I started sweating. Sam just smiled, not answering my question and patted my hand.
Never in my life did I expect to be in a place like this. Who was this woman. Sam would not even let many PG-13 movies come into our house. To be in a place of such filth, such degradation. I couldn’t understand it.
A few minutes later, the show started. It was everything that I feared and hoped for. The female performers wore lingerie that left almost nothing to the imagination. The male performers were amazingly fit and seemed to exude sexuality. All of them performed with such sensuality, finesse and athletic grace. I found myself holding my breath through several minutes. And through it all, Samantha would glance at me, her face and body letting me know that the show was having a similar erotic experience as me.
The show ended to thunderous applause, Sam and me clapping as loudly as anyone else. We exited the theater and made our way back to the main road. Sam flagged another taxi and asked the driver to get us back to the Mandalay Bay. In the back of the car, I again attempted to touch my wife’s body. She pushed my hands away and just shook her head. But her eyes had that same dangerous look.
I paid the driver when we reached our destination. Then I quickly followed the sway of my wife’s hips as she entered the hotel. My heart was beating faster and faster in anticipation. We reached the elevator, and I was in agony waiting for it to arrive. I tried again in the elevator to touch her. Again she rebuffed me playfully.
“Not yet, Jack. Soon.” We reached our floor, and then the room to our door. Finally she kissed me. I knew those lips. Those were my wife’s lips. They were soft and tender. But they were also the lips of a stranger. There was a foreign hunger that I didn’t recognize. Walking backwards, Samantha pulled me by the tie as we went through the threshold. She turned around.
“Can you unzip me?” I would have done anything in that moment for her, but helping her undress was at the top of my list as well. I unzipped her black dress all the way down her back. Then she walked towards the large window. Sam pulled the dress from her shoulders, pushed it over her hips and let it fall to the floor. I was correct, of course, that the dress couldn’t be hiding garments, but it wasn’t hiding much else either. There was no bra, no panties, only the garter belt that had held up her nylons. I stared in awe as she sauntered away from me to the large window. Our room was on the 20th floor and had reflective windows. It would be impossible that anyone could see her body from the street below, but her shameless exhibitionism caused my heart to race and my cock to harden. She raised her arms and placed her hands on the window. Her legs parted as well, and the light glinted off the moisture that had collected on her inner thighs. She looked over her shoulder at me.
“Jack, come fuck me.”
Who was this woman? I was flabbergasted. I had never even heard my wife use Bible profanity. My Sam, who would reprimand me for saying “crap” around the kids.
“Do I need to ask again?”
And then suddenly it was clear. She wasn’t my wife. She wasn’t my eternal companion. She wasn’t the mother of my children. She wasn’t my friend and confidant. She wasn’t Sister Stevens or the Young Women’s secretary. She wasn’t a yoga enthusiast or accomplished cellist. She wasn’t a volunteer at the food bank. And she definitely was not my fucking room mate.
I was a beast - a primal beast. And she was my mate. She was my prize. She was my conquest. She was my woman. And I would have her.
I made my way across the floor in record time. I kneeled behind her, my face level with her ass. My arms threaded between her thighs and wound around so my hands gripped her ass cheeks. Her pussy looked so wet. My mouth latched on to her pussy. My tongue plunged into the depths. Her nectar dripped in my mouth and coated my cheeks. She moaned and collapsed against the window. Her breasts and side of her cheek pressed flat against the glass.
“Oh fuck, Jack. It’s so good,” she moaned. Her manicured fingernails clawed at the smooth surface of the window as if she would be able to find a purchase point on the glass to support her in the waves of pleasure.
She ground her hips into my face trying to get as much of my tongue inside her as possible. I loved it. I had never seen Sam as a sexual being. Her taste was exquisite and her smell had me entranced.
I stood and undid my pants which fell to the floor. I didn’t bother kicking them off or removing my shoes. My manhood needed no further coaxing. What took my mind so long to understand, my cock understood instinctively. I maneuvered the head of my cock to her waiting hole. And then I thrust. With all the lubrication, there was almost no resistance. My dick slid all the way to the hilt. Sam let out a gasp.
“YES!!! Yes baby. Fuck me! Use my pussy! I’ve needed your fucking cock all night.”
Her dirty language no longer shocked me.
Over and over I thrust. My cock sliding in and out of it’s home. My hands explored her breasts almost mauling them. My mouth to her neck- kissing, licking, sucking, biting. None of my aggressiveness caused her to retreat, rather she pushed into me more, her longing to be filled.
My grunts and Sam’s moans increased in volume and intensity. With all my strength I continued to piston in and out of her. I felt like I was going to explode - not just my cock but my whole body. We had become one flesh. We had cleaved away all our roles and responsibilities. There was no mom and dad. There was no Brother and Sister Stevens. There was no Jack Stevens, Esquire. It was just Jack and Sam. And it was fucking amazing.
And then it happened. I felt Sam’s pussy contract around my shaft and she almost screamed with pleasure.
“I’m cumming!!! I’M CUMMING!!!! JACK, BABY, I AM CUMMING ON YOUR HARD COCK!!!” she screamed.
Her body ignited my own. I exploded inside of her. Pulse after pulse of warm cum filling her box to overflowing. Our combined juices dripped down my balls and then onto my pants. We collapsed against the window both of us heaving, gasping for breath. It was all I could do to hold us both up.
Finally, after gathering some strength, I kicked of my shoes and pants. I picked Sam up and cradled her in my arms. I carried her to the bed and laid her down. Then I crawled in beside her and wrapped my arms around her. My woman. My wife.