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LINKS
HOT LINKS     |
27/12/2008
Let me introduce my wife, BJ. (Not her real name – one of several rules she has that have encountered as things unfolded.) She is, to my eye, frankly beautiful! She is tiny – under five-feet tall, and proportionately built. She has wavy deep-red hair, intense blue eyes, and a Viagra smile! Her breasts are small – slightly larger now than when I first met her, courtesy of our two children – but extremely shapely and “perky” (terrible word, but it fits so well!), with beautiful pink nipples that stare you in the eye. She has a slim waist and shapely hips, and a wonderfully rounded rump. Her legs are gorgeous, especially in heels, which at her height, she wears most of the time. She is so smart it hurts, and funny and sweet with it. She is also a professional (as am I) and our closest friends are in our church: she is concerned that her reputation would be ruined if they were to ever link her to “inappropriate” behavior, and therefore, since this event, she has developed “her rules” - No pictures, no real names, and she is in control at all times (not in a dominatrix sense, but in the sense that when she feels it's time to quit, it's time to quit). I'm happy to go along with these, although I keep trying to tell her that her reputation would almost certainly go up among our friends if they were to see her in all her glory (at least, with the male members of the group! And I have my suspicions about some of the females, too!!!)
Anyway, this long intro is to take us back several years ago now. We were in our mid-30's, our kids were small, our work was (is!) demanding, and the days just didn't seem to be long enough for us to find time for each other. Our love making was (as always) great, but it was a bit perfunctory, and wasn't bonding us the way it had previously. We decided it was time for a break away together, just us two, if only for a weekend. So, we left the kids at my in-laws and headed to one of our favorite places, Charleston, SC. Charleston is so charming and romantic, we were sure it would help us rekindle the spark.
It was late summer, just past the peak of the temperatures down there, but still hot and humid during the day, and warm at night. We left after work on Friday, drove through most of two states, and arrived at our downtown hotel late, and exhausted. We fell asleep in each other's arms, glad to be together, but too tired to do anything about it!
The following day we got up late, ate brunch, and went to see the town. A visit to Fort Sumter and a walk through the historic district left us in great spirits. I had booked us a table at a nice restaurant near the waterfront, and we headed back to the hotel to shower, change, and get ready for the meal. I dressed in the bedroom, while BJ took her things into the bathroom to get ready. She emerged looking even more lovely than usual! She usually shows off her new clothes to me when she buys them, but I had never seen this outfit before. She had on a matching silk top and skirt, ivory with green swirls, and high-heeled sandals. The top was a very simple short-sleeved blouse with a fairly high scoop neck, which she had accented with a single string of pearls. The skirt was knee-length pleated all the way round, fastening on her left hip. The silk clung and swayed like it was alive as she moved. I would have leaped on her right then, but we were both hungry, and late for our table. We started the short walk to the restaurant. BJ got a twig caught in her sandal, and as she knelt to remove it, I got a flash of inner thigh, and realized that the overlap on the side was no more than about 3 or 4 inches. We walked down to the restaurant and were quickly shown to our table.
As soon as I sat opposite her, I could see from the effect the air conditioning was having that she had decided Charleston was too hot for a bra! Her nipples were popping the silk in the most interesting manner, and as she moved, the pink would show when covered by the ivory of her top. “Like them?” she laughed, and I realized I must have been staring! Our waiter arrived with to get our drinks order at that point. He seemed to be having trouble keeping eye contact. After he left I said “Yes, and I believe that young man does too!” “Don't be ridiculous”, she said, blushing but smiling with the flattery, “I must be at least fifteen years older than him!” “I don't think he cares”, I said. And sure enough, we had the most attentive service I think we've ever had, then or since!
We had a slow, luxurious meal, with wine and some cocktails, talking a lot, enjoying the opportunity to be adults again, and not just the kids' Mom and Dad. It was already fully dark by the time we emerged from the restaurant, and we walked down Meeting Street to the Battery, and took a slow walk along the waterfront. A warm, but fairly strong breeze was coming off the water. (We found out later this was the leading edge of a tropical storm! - we had been so busy over the past week we had not even heard there was one coming.) BJ had to hold the edge of the overlap of her skirt to keep it under control. The Battery was fairly busy, as it almost always seems to be, with couples (mostly younger than us!) walking, holding hands, playing, as well as guys fishing. We stood leaning on the rail holding hands and just watched the water for what seemed like a long time. Finally, BJ said “Stay here, I'll be right back.” A little surprised, I said “Oh, OK, I guess.” She turned and headed down the sea wall maybe 50 yards or so, still controlling her skirt with her hand. The old line “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away” came into mind, as I watched her hips moving under the silk. She stopped and turned, and started to walk much more slowly back towards me. Just as she hit the pool of light under a street lamp, she let go of the skirt. The wind immediately grabbed the light silk; the flap came up above her waist, revealing the neatly trimmed red triangle pointing the way to heaven, and the pleats billowed and fluttered out around her. Obviously, it was too hot for panties too!!! She stopped and did a slow pirouette, showing me (and of course, what seemed like the half the population of Charleston!) her gorgeous body in 360-degrees. Someone let out a “Woohoo!”, a couple of guys whistled, and a convertible-full of teenagers hit the horn of their car. They must have had a particularly good view, since the road is about 6-ft below the walkway. She kept walking towards me, unhurriedly, and with her skirt at the mercy of the wind.
My knees were shaking, and when she got to me, I could tell hers were as well. This was so unlike her! Her face was flushed, partly from embarrassment, but I think mostly from excitement. She grabbed my hand, headed for the nearest set of stairs to street-level, and half-pulled me in the direction of the hotel, giggling and laughing, again grabbing at the skirt to keep it under control. She let it go a couple of times in the 2 or 3 block walk back to the hotel, each time giving a spin for me and giggling with less and less control. When we finally made the room, in the time it took me to hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign and lock the door, she was down to the high-heels and pearls, and had me pinned to the wall while scrabbling at my belt.
When we finally got up the following morning, the storm had come very close to land. The wind was blowing hard, and the rain was lashing down. We decided we'd better end our visit to Charleston earlier in the day than planned, since we weren't quite sure how bad it was going to get. We ate breakfast and started the drive home. BJ was wearing a thin cotton “madras”-patterned shirt, my favorite pair of denim short-shorts, and a pair of wedge sandals. We got to the car nice and dry, thanks to valet parking.
We drove for about two hours before BJ said she needed to stop for a pee. The rain had slowed to a drizzle as we headed inland, although the wind was still blowing pretty hard. We stopped at a shopping mall, and went in to use the facilities. We wandered around the shops window shopping for about an hour and ate pizza at the food court, then decided we needed to be on the road again if we wanted to pick up the kids at a reasonable time. When we got to the door of the mall, the rain was pouring down again, and blowing horizontal! Gentleman that I am, I offered to go get the car, but BJ yelled “Come on!”, grabbed my hand and started running. We laughed our way across the parking lot to the doors of the car and flopped into it. We looked at each other and started laughing again – we were a real sight! BJ's hair was straggling down her forehead, with big drops dripping from the tendrils, and a lot of her makeup had run. I know I didn't look much better. One nice touch though, was the wet shirt on bra-less BJ! Her nipples were clearly visible through the plastered-down material. But we were uncomfortable to say the least. I crawled into the back seat and pulled down one of the seat backs to get into the trunk. I pulled out our two small cases, along with a beach towel we had always kept in the car since the kids were really tiny to deal with “emergencies”. BJ got the towel first as I started looking through the bags for alternative clothing. No one was out in the storm, and visibility was about 3 inches, so BJ simply unbuttoned her shirt and took it off. My reaction was something like “Nnnnnnngggghhhhh!”. I unzipped her bag, and looked inside – to say she had packed light was understatement (and most unlike her!). Her bag contained the shirt, jeans and underwear she had on when we left home, her makeup, and the green silk outfit and shoes. She apparently had decided (correctly - what a girl!) that she would have no need of additional undergarments or nightwear. I looked in my bag – I had an extra pair of shorts and a cotton shirt. I offered them both to BJ. “Look – you're going to get crotch-rot if you sit in those shorts for the next 5 hours”, she said. “You take the shorts, I'll take the shirt.” Off came both sets of clothing. Unable to stand it, I hit the “recline” button on her car seat, and in short-order she was lying almost flat. “This is heading somewhere, isn't it” she giggled. I helped her into the back seat, and we made-out like teenagers for about twenty minutes, before we finally came together in an explosion. I had spots of light dancing before my eyes! The rain continued to hammer on the car, which was probably just as well, since even if anyone was foolish enough to be out in it, they couldn't see through the windows anyway.
When we recovered a bit, we clambered back into the front seats. BJ put on my shirt, leaving it unbuttoned to the waist, and I pulled on the shorts, and we set off on the road again. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her! We made one more stop at a rest station, parking well away from the facilities since the rain had largely abated again, and got into the clothes we had left home in. BJ took her makeup into the rest stop and touched-up her face. Then home, kids, and family life again. But now, whenever things seem to be getting a bit mundane in our love life, it only takes BJ to whisper “green silk” to bring back a flood of memories, and start a flood of hormones!!!
Andy
Anyway, this long intro is to take us back several years ago now. We were in our mid-30's, our kids were small, our work was (is!) demanding, and the days just didn't seem to be long enough for us to find time for each other. Our love making was (as always) great, but it was a bit perfunctory, and wasn't bonding us the way it had previously. We decided it was time for a break away together, just us two, if only for a weekend. So, we left the kids at my in-laws and headed to one of our favorite places, Charleston, SC. Charleston is so charming and romantic, we were sure it would help us rekindle the spark.
It was late summer, just past the peak of the temperatures down there, but still hot and humid during the day, and warm at night. We left after work on Friday, drove through most of two states, and arrived at our downtown hotel late, and exhausted. We fell asleep in each other's arms, glad to be together, but too tired to do anything about it!
The following day we got up late, ate brunch, and went to see the town. A visit to Fort Sumter and a walk through the historic district left us in great spirits. I had booked us a table at a nice restaurant near the waterfront, and we headed back to the hotel to shower, change, and get ready for the meal. I dressed in the bedroom, while BJ took her things into the bathroom to get ready. She emerged looking even more lovely than usual! She usually shows off her new clothes to me when she buys them, but I had never seen this outfit before. She had on a matching silk top and skirt, ivory with green swirls, and high-heeled sandals. The top was a very simple short-sleeved blouse with a fairly high scoop neck, which she had accented with a single string of pearls. The skirt was knee-length pleated all the way round, fastening on her left hip. The silk clung and swayed like it was alive as she moved. I would have leaped on her right then, but we were both hungry, and late for our table. We started the short walk to the restaurant. BJ got a twig caught in her sandal, and as she knelt to remove it, I got a flash of inner thigh, and realized that the overlap on the side was no more than about 3 or 4 inches. We walked down to the restaurant and were quickly shown to our table.
As soon as I sat opposite her, I could see from the effect the air conditioning was having that she had decided Charleston was too hot for a bra! Her nipples were popping the silk in the most interesting manner, and as she moved, the pink would show when covered by the ivory of her top. “Like them?” she laughed, and I realized I must have been staring! Our waiter arrived with to get our drinks order at that point. He seemed to be having trouble keeping eye contact. After he left I said “Yes, and I believe that young man does too!” “Don't be ridiculous”, she said, blushing but smiling with the flattery, “I must be at least fifteen years older than him!” “I don't think he cares”, I said. And sure enough, we had the most attentive service I think we've ever had, then or since!
We had a slow, luxurious meal, with wine and some cocktails, talking a lot, enjoying the opportunity to be adults again, and not just the kids' Mom and Dad. It was already fully dark by the time we emerged from the restaurant, and we walked down Meeting Street to the Battery, and took a slow walk along the waterfront. A warm, but fairly strong breeze was coming off the water. (We found out later this was the leading edge of a tropical storm! - we had been so busy over the past week we had not even heard there was one coming.) BJ had to hold the edge of the overlap of her skirt to keep it under control. The Battery was fairly busy, as it almost always seems to be, with couples (mostly younger than us!) walking, holding hands, playing, as well as guys fishing. We stood leaning on the rail holding hands and just watched the water for what seemed like a long time. Finally, BJ said “Stay here, I'll be right back.” A little surprised, I said “Oh, OK, I guess.” She turned and headed down the sea wall maybe 50 yards or so, still controlling her skirt with her hand. The old line “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you walk away” came into mind, as I watched her hips moving under the silk. She stopped and turned, and started to walk much more slowly back towards me. Just as she hit the pool of light under a street lamp, she let go of the skirt. The wind immediately grabbed the light silk; the flap came up above her waist, revealing the neatly trimmed red triangle pointing the way to heaven, and the pleats billowed and fluttered out around her. Obviously, it was too hot for panties too!!! She stopped and did a slow pirouette, showing me (and of course, what seemed like the half the population of Charleston!) her gorgeous body in 360-degrees. Someone let out a “Woohoo!”, a couple of guys whistled, and a convertible-full of teenagers hit the horn of their car. They must have had a particularly good view, since the road is about 6-ft below the walkway. She kept walking towards me, unhurriedly, and with her skirt at the mercy of the wind.
My knees were shaking, and when she got to me, I could tell hers were as well. This was so unlike her! Her face was flushed, partly from embarrassment, but I think mostly from excitement. She grabbed my hand, headed for the nearest set of stairs to street-level, and half-pulled me in the direction of the hotel, giggling and laughing, again grabbing at the skirt to keep it under control. She let it go a couple of times in the 2 or 3 block walk back to the hotel, each time giving a spin for me and giggling with less and less control. When we finally made the room, in the time it took me to hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign and lock the door, she was down to the high-heels and pearls, and had me pinned to the wall while scrabbling at my belt.
When we finally got up the following morning, the storm had come very close to land. The wind was blowing hard, and the rain was lashing down. We decided we'd better end our visit to Charleston earlier in the day than planned, since we weren't quite sure how bad it was going to get. We ate breakfast and started the drive home. BJ was wearing a thin cotton “madras”-patterned shirt, my favorite pair of denim short-shorts, and a pair of wedge sandals. We got to the car nice and dry, thanks to valet parking.
We drove for about two hours before BJ said she needed to stop for a pee. The rain had slowed to a drizzle as we headed inland, although the wind was still blowing pretty hard. We stopped at a shopping mall, and went in to use the facilities. We wandered around the shops window shopping for about an hour and ate pizza at the food court, then decided we needed to be on the road again if we wanted to pick up the kids at a reasonable time. When we got to the door of the mall, the rain was pouring down again, and blowing horizontal! Gentleman that I am, I offered to go get the car, but BJ yelled “Come on!”, grabbed my hand and started running. We laughed our way across the parking lot to the doors of the car and flopped into it. We looked at each other and started laughing again – we were a real sight! BJ's hair was straggling down her forehead, with big drops dripping from the tendrils, and a lot of her makeup had run. I know I didn't look much better. One nice touch though, was the wet shirt on bra-less BJ! Her nipples were clearly visible through the plastered-down material. But we were uncomfortable to say the least. I crawled into the back seat and pulled down one of the seat backs to get into the trunk. I pulled out our two small cases, along with a beach towel we had always kept in the car since the kids were really tiny to deal with “emergencies”. BJ got the towel first as I started looking through the bags for alternative clothing. No one was out in the storm, and visibility was about 3 inches, so BJ simply unbuttoned her shirt and took it off. My reaction was something like “Nnnnnnngggghhhhh!”. I unzipped her bag, and looked inside – to say she had packed light was understatement (and most unlike her!). Her bag contained the shirt, jeans and underwear she had on when we left home, her makeup, and the green silk outfit and shoes. She apparently had decided (correctly - what a girl!) that she would have no need of additional undergarments or nightwear. I looked in my bag – I had an extra pair of shorts and a cotton shirt. I offered them both to BJ. “Look – you're going to get crotch-rot if you sit in those shorts for the next 5 hours”, she said. “You take the shorts, I'll take the shirt.” Off came both sets of clothing. Unable to stand it, I hit the “recline” button on her car seat, and in short-order she was lying almost flat. “This is heading somewhere, isn't it” she giggled. I helped her into the back seat, and we made-out like teenagers for about twenty minutes, before we finally came together in an explosion. I had spots of light dancing before my eyes! The rain continued to hammer on the car, which was probably just as well, since even if anyone was foolish enough to be out in it, they couldn't see through the windows anyway.
When we recovered a bit, we clambered back into the front seats. BJ put on my shirt, leaving it unbuttoned to the waist, and I pulled on the shorts, and we set off on the road again. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her! We made one more stop at a rest station, parking well away from the facilities since the rain had largely abated again, and got into the clothes we had left home in. BJ took her makeup into the rest stop and touched-up her face. Then home, kids, and family life again. But now, whenever things seem to be getting a bit mundane in our love life, it only takes BJ to whisper “green silk” to bring back a flood of memories, and start a flood of hormones!!!
Andy
Poster:
Andy
