I didn’t carry the velvet hatbox into the hotel. I packed everything into my rolling bag, including the new toys and the KY. (I was careful to seal those in two Ziploc bags, just in case!) I was wearing an outfit that Jack had requested before we left, a white t-shirt and a black skirt that didn’t quite come my knees—no bra, no stockings and no panties.

Rolling my bag behind me, I felt completely naked, my four inch heels clicking on the tile as we paused to check in. I felt a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, minus the blonde Cleopatra wig, as I followed Jack in his suit up to the counter. I couldn’t count the looks I’d gotten on the way in, and it was only about seventy feet from the valet to the desk.

“Here you are, Mr. Thompson.” The young clerk handed Jack two pass cards. His eyes were on my chest, and I knew my nipples were hard after coming in from the heat into the air conditioning. “I hope you and your lovely wife have a nice stay.”

I smiled, flushing. “Thanks.”

Jack slipped his arm around my waist, steering me toward the elevators. Upstairs, he told me to go into the bathroom and change.

“What color?” I asked with a smile rolling my bag behind me.

He sat on the bed, contemplating. “Come here.” He crooked his finger at me.

I walked over to the bed, still getting used to the height of the heels, and stopped in front of him. Pulling me between his thighs, his hands ran up the smooth, bare skin of my legs, under my skirt, squeezing my ass.

“Ready for your vacation?” He rested his chin on my belly and lookied up at me.

“I’m not sure.” I bit my lip. “I still don’t know what you have in mind.”

He smiled. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk out that door. They’ll have to bring in an ambulance with an IV just to re-hydrate you.”

“Really?” I gasped, feeling his fingers working between my pussy lips, seeking the moist heat there.

“But I’m not just going to fuck this pretty little cunt.” He slipped his fingers inside and forced my thighs a little further apart. I gasped and wiggled, feeling speared on his hand between my legs. Then, he moved his fingers, dragging the wetness with him through the crack of my ass.

“I’m going to fuck this hot, tight little asshole.” He searched for and found that soft, humid crease, sliding one finger into my ass, making me moan. “We’re going to use every bottle of KY that we brought and have to go buy more.”

“Are you ready for that?” His finger moved in and out of my ass, up to the first knuckle, his eyes on mine. I nodded, gasping, clenching my ass and squeezing his finger.

“Yes,” I moaned, spreading my legs as wide as my skirt would allow.

“Good.” He grinned and I groaned when he slid his finger out. “Go get changed. Black bra, white panties, black fishnets, and the shoes.”

I stumbled back, catching myself on one of the dressers and grabbing the handle of my bag, rolling it with me into the bathroom. My hands trembled as I pulled out the clothes he requested, wondering at it. The panties were just white cotton with a lace edging and a little satin bow on the front. The bra, however, was a black lace thing that just screamed “whore.”

It seemed a strange combination, but I put it all on, glancing at myself in the mirror over the sink. It was a three-way thing, and I could see myself from every angle as I turned, red curls falling around my flushed cheeks as I made my adjustments.

When I came out of the bedroom, he was naked on the bed, a few pillows tucked behind his head. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he let out a low whistle.

“Where’s the KY?” he asked.

I smiled, bringing the bag out from behind my back. I was more than ready. I tossed it toward him and he caught it, opening the Ziploc bags and fishing out the tubes.

He threw one back at me. “For the bathroom. Leave it on the counter.”

I walked back to the bathroom, still just a little unsteady in the heels, peeking around the corner to put the KY next to the sink. When I turned back, Jack was pacing, tossing pillows around the room. He threw a bottle of KY next to the two pillows on the floor, one on each side of the bed. He put one on each night table.

“What are you doing?” I put my hands on my hips and cocked my head at him.

“Tactical maneuvers.” He looked over at me with a grin. “Reinforcing my supply lines.”

I laughed, shaking my head. He sat on the bed, crooking his finger at me again, and with a sense of deja-vu, I came to stand between his thighs. His hands moved over my hips in the white cotton panties and then slid up to my breasts in the black lace bra, pushing my flesh up until it threatened to spill over the top.

“Angel and slut.” His breath was hot against my belly as he kissed me there, and I finally understood his choice in garments. His thumbs rolled over my nipples through the lace and I sighed, arching my back toward him. He licked them through the fabric, making fat circles around and around.

Slipping my hand through his hair, I pulled him closer, moving forward and sitting on his leg, rubbing my pussy over his thigh. I’d been wearing the panties less than five minutes and they were already damp. His cock was hard, brushing against the lace top of my thigh high as I ground my hips against him—the heat of it was incredible.

I reached down and tugged on his shaft, rubbing my thumb over the tip, making him groan against my breasts with his face buried there. Slowly, I slid down his thigh, kneeling between his legs and looking up at him. His cock was pointing straight at my mouth, as if it knew just what it wanted, and I reached my tongue out for it, licking all around the tip, making it wet.

Jack made a happy noise in his throat, looking down to see himself disappearing into my mouth. I loved sucking his cock, and I knew just what he liked, teasing and licking and even nibbling at first, just at the tip, until he started leaking pre-cum. Then I opened my mouth wide, taking him in as far as I could go, usually about halfway at first, working him deeper and deeper with every pass.

I put my hands behind my back as I sucked him, crossing my arms at the wrists. It was my version of “see, no hands!” and he loved it, grabbing my hair, growling and thrusting, using my mouth and throat for his pleasure. There were times when I could, and did, do this for hours, in various positions, bringing him to a near-boiling point again and again, only to back off for a while, licking his thighs, his balls, his belly, and then starting all over.

Today, though, he clearly had other things in mind, because he grabbed my hair, pulling my lips off his cock. It made a wet pop when it came out of my mouth, and I reached for it with my tongue, whimpering, still wanting that thick thrust in my throat.

“Hungry little slut.” He smiled, taking his cock and rubbing it over my eager lips and tongue. “Is your pussy hungry, too?” I moaned, nodding, touching the crotch of my panties. They weren’t damp anymore—they were soaked.

“I know what else is hungry.” He pulled me to standing. Still wearing the heels, I wavered a little as he stood, turning me and pushing me face forward onto the bed. He spread my thighs wider and then I could feel his hands on my ass, running over the white cotton panties, squeezing the firm, rounded globes of my cheeks.

“You’ve got a hungry little asshole, don’t you, baby?” he whispered, and I moaned when he used his palms to spread my cheeks wide, the panties slipping between the crack. There was something so wicked about it. The shock of it was part of what made it so appealing…