Pillow Talk, Just Pillow Talk

The hot pillow talk I had with my second wife, Gloria, from June until September was a summertime event and something that I looked forward to having, an understatement, anytime we were alone and romantically in the mood. If you don't know what pillow talk is, if you never had hot pillow talk, we weren't talking about buying vibrant colored and bold designed pillows at Bed and Bath. Definitely, we were beyond discussing designer cushions. We were talking about sex.

After watching my wife flirting with our friends during our first pool party of the summer, I couldn't wait to have some hot pillow talk with her about it later. A summertime sexual phenomenon, I recently discovered what a real turn on pillow talk can be. It's something that I never had with my first wife, Jennifer.

Jennifer wasn't much into talking about sex with me. She wasn't much into having sex with me. She wasn't much into talking to me. She begrudgingly allowed me to have sex with her motionless semi-naked body before shoving me off of her, as soon as I finished.

"Are you done? Then, get off me. You're hurting me. You're too heavy."

"Thanks for everything. I'll see you the same time next year," I said sarcastically with a smug smile knowing that it probably would be a year before she had sex with me again.

"Asshole," she said under her breath.

"I love you," I said with an insincere smile.

Even though we had tried, we could never recapture the lost passion we had when we dated and that climaxed during our Honeymoon in Mexico, so many years ago. Living life as a married couple, making a family, and raising children, the two, young lovers obsessed with one another, laughing, loving life, and having fun was long gone. In hindsight, she was only interested in having kids and, once I gave her two kids, she hid behind the extra pounds she gained and never lost from her pregnancies.

That was the end of our sex life. Tragically, she had become the carbon copy of her mother, short, fat, and filled with a contemptible hatred for me. If only it had been in liquid form, the love she once had for me was replaced by a caustic disposition that could remove rust from the bumper of a '56 Nash Rambler that had been left out in the rain for fifty years. I'd make a million bucks selling that solution.

I stayed with Jennifer mostly because of the kids, but once they were out of college, we filed the papers and parted our separate ways. Rather than continuing living with me, she was happy getting the house and her monthly child support check and I was happy to give it to go. A year after my divorce was final; I met Gloria, my second wife.

I saw her across the aisle at a night baseball game. She was sitting with some friends. Only, as if the lights were shining only on her, she may have been sitting alone. One within a crowd, she was so strikingly beautiful that she made everyone else disappear. I was so captivated by her, and so eager to make a connection, that I don't remember who had won the game. I don't even remember who was playing the home team. I just remember her.

I spent the entire game pulling vendors aside and putting money in their hand to have them deliver whatever they were selling to her. From beer to cotton candy to hot dogs to ice cream to souvenirs, after the game, she was easy to spot in the crowd. She was the one wearing the baseball hitting hard hat, carrying the team balloon, and holding the pennant, the inflatable baseball bat, the stuffed mascot, and whatever else they were selling at the park.

Finally, the last thing that I paid a vendor to deliver to her was a one hundred dollar bill with my telephone number and message scribbled on it.

"Sorry," it read, "but I don't have any paper with me. Call me, Paul," and I wrote my cell phone number.

A shot in the dark and fun while it lasted, I figured she'd pocket the hundred and I'd never hear from her, but surprisingly she called me three days later on a Tuesday night. Maybe she was bored and lonely or maybe she was curious, without doubt, I figured she thought that I had money and she was right. As she was leaving the stadium after the game, I left my friends behind to follow her from a distance. I wanted to hear what her friends thought of a mystery man buying her gifts and sending her a C note at the ballpark.

"You should call him, Gloria. Maybe he has money. Maybe this is fate. Maybe he's Mr. Right and your knight in shining armor," said one girlfriend.

Her name was Gloria and all that I could think of was her glorious name, Gloria. I wrote Gloria everywhere. I couldn't work. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I felt as if I were a teenager again in puppy love. Even though, I knew nothing about her, other than what she looked like and now her name, instantly, I was in love.

"Yeah, he must be loaded to buy you all this stuff and then to have a hundred dollars delivered to you," said the other girlfriend. "I'd call him if it was me."

"He's probably some, old married guy looking for a mistress and wanting a blowjob," she said to her friends with a flip of her shoulder.

She was right on two counts. Obviously by the youngish looks of her, she was no more than thirty-years-old and I was surprised when I found out that she was 34-years-old. I was much older than she was and I was certainly hoping for a blowjob, but I wasn't married.

Lonely and looking for someone to share my life, the type of guy who can't live without a woman in his life, I had been without someone for longer than I could stand. I wondered how she felt about dating an older man. Yet, you never know. Maybe, if there was a spark when we met, if we met, the differences in our age wouldn't matter. Well, I'm happy to report that it all worked out for me and for us.

I'm Paul and that's my beautiful wife, Gloria, by the pool surrounded by all those captivated and horny men. She's the leggy, flirty blonde in the red bikini standing next to her best friend, Sheila, the equally as tall and beautiful redhead in the blue bikini. I love how my sexy wife looks in a bikini. She looks great. Doesn't she look great?

Jennifer would never shoehorn her fat body in a bathing suit. Her weight issue was as big as our house. Between asking me if she looked fat, being depressed because she was fat and trying and failing at every diet known to man, our conversations were all about her and her weight issues and never about me and my sexual needs. In the confident way that Gloria is around men, Jennifer never had a good enough self-image to flirt.

It wasn't that Jennifer was ugly; she was a good looking woman, especially when I first met her. It wasn't that she was obese; the issue she made of her being overweight was heavier than the weight she actually was. The twenty pounds she had gained with each of our two children was weight that she could never lose. She tried. Always on a diet and always sensitive about her self-image, God forbid I should look at a woman who was not as heavy as Jennifer. I'd have Hell to pay.

"Who's that?"

"Who?"

"That woman you were looking at."

"I wasn't looking at any woman."

"Yes you were. Who is she?"

"No one."

"Then, why were you staring at her?"

"I wasn't."

"Yes you were. You were staring at her ass."

That was the extent of much of our conversation when out together. I was always checking out other women. I was horny. Maybe, if Jennifer had given me sex, I wouldn't be looking. Only, if Jennifer had given me sex, then I'd still be with her and wouldn't be with my true love, Gloria.

Jennifer always wore shorts and a loose tee shirt in the pool. She wasn't much fun to be around during the summertime. Hot, moody, miserable, and sweaty, there was nothing sexy about her. Where Jennifer was short and fat, Gloria is tall and thin. Where Jennifer was about staying home, cleaning the house, and cooking, Gloria is about having fun, doing things, and going places. So opposite in their view of life, I wish I had met Gloria twenty years ago. Maybe I would have worked less and partied more. Then, again, if I had worked less and partied more, I wouldn't have the money to afford such a trophy wife as beautiful and as sexy as Gloria. She makes me happy. She's my soul mate and the love of my life.

After watching her tease the husbands of our friends and neighbors, I couldn't wait to share my most intimate sexual thoughts with her. I've been hoping to talk her into having a threesome or a foursome or allowing me to watch her having sex with another man or a woman. Only, I'm not sure if she'll go for that, not yet, anyway, but I'm working on her. In the way that things have quickly progressed, especially after the smashing success of this pool party, it's only a matter of time before she'll agree to be more outrageously provocative with her sexual behavior towards others outside of our marriage.

I know what you're thinking. If I'm so happy with Gloria, then why would I want to share her with another man? It's complicated and I'll explain as the story progresses, but did you ever have a car that you loved and wanted your friends to drive it to understand why you made such a fuss over it? Further, even though you're allowing them to take it for a spin to see how she handles while hugging the curves, it's still your car and, at the end of the day, your baby will be coming home with you. Well, it's kind of like that. Yeah, I know, Gloria is not a car, but the passion that I felt for some of the cars that I loved is only surpassed by the passion that I feel for her.

With her high heels, she's as tall and taller than most of the men. Men love it when a woman wears high heels with a bikini. Don't you? I know I do. It's akin to wearing a fur coat with nothing else and I've already persuaded her to do that last winter. A win/win scenario for both of us, I had to buy her a fur coat for Christmas, a mink made from female matching skins, for her to oblige my sexual desire to see her naked beneath her fur, but it was well worth it. I wish you could see the photos I took of her wearing nothing but her mink. She looks as good as any photos taken at a Playboy layout.

"Paul, I'm not wearing high heels with a bikini. I'm not a twenty-something-year-old. I'll break my frigging ankle on the pavers by the pool," she said while carefully walking around the carpeted bedroom with her high heels and modeling her bikini for me. "Besides, I'd feel foolish. I'll look like a damn Playboy Bunny."

She always needed to be coerced a little to have some hot, sexy fun. Just as she gave me a hard time about wearing a bikini, she had as many excuses not to wear her high heels with her bathing suit. Now that she's no longer a twenty-something-year-old hottie, she said she'd feel foolishly conspicuous with the other women in attendance, women who don't take as much pride in their appearance as she and Sheila do. Even though she did look quite a bit like a woman who could have been in Hugh Hefner's stable of blonde, busty beauties, I quelled her concern about looking like a wanna be Playboy Bunny with a little pep talk.

"Well, that's the idea, Honey; flaunt it if you have it and you've definitely got it," I said giving her boob a sensuous squeeze before giving her butt a little pat. "Forget about the other women. They're just jealous. The guys will flip when they get a load of you in that hot designer bikini. You look fabulous and your ass looks amazing."

A ten on a scale of ten, especially when you factor in her age, she definitely has it. To assuage her fear of breaking her leg, I had the caterers rollout some indoor/outdoor carpeting and rearrange the patio furniture to give her more of a direct runway to and from the pool. With the carpeting in place from the door to the pool, looking much like the red carpet for the Oscars, I liked thinking that, now, my little sex kitten had her private little catwalk to strut, while showing her stuff. Certainly, I didn't want my thoroughbred mare pulling up lame and ruining not only this pool party and our chances of having hot pillow talk but also our opportunity to have animal like sex later.

Finally, with the promise of a gift from Tiffany's, a sparkly bauble, if she wore the high heels for me, she relented.

"Gloria, Honey, take a look in the mirror, your ass and calves look incredible. You look like a Mrs. America contestant."

Once she got a load of how good she looked in the mirror that sealed the deal. The heels made her legs and ass look sculpted and carved from stone. Understandably, she had a few jitters about showing off so much of her hot body in a bikini that was so abbreviated. Once she relaxed with a cocktail and calmed her nerves about showing off her body, she felt better and more at ease after convincing Sheila to wear her high heels, too.

With one appearing sexier than the other, the two of them are such sexy bitches. I don't know who to look at first. The Stepford Wives should have looked as good as these two bodacious beauties. All that I know is, with just the sight of them, they both make my pulse race and my cock hard. I can only hope they'll agree to get in the hot tub with me naked later, after we've all had a few drinks and after everyone else leaves. Sheila and her husband, Ron, are always the last guests to leave. As excited as I am to spend time with Sheila without other guys vying for her attention, I suspect Ron hopes to get Gloria alone, too.

Now that I see Gloria and Sheila together, especially when comparing them to the other wives and girlfriends at the party, they do look a little conspicuously sexy wearing those high heels with their brief bikinis. It's a turn on for me and something to talk about with her later, when I tell her about all the jealous looks she received from the fat wives and all the lustful leers she received from the horny husbands. A cross between a beauty pageant contestant and a bikini model, the high heels give more shape to her legs, highlight her calf muscles, and raise her buttocks making them appear rounder and fuller.

It all started yesterday when I brought home the bikini that I bought her to wear today at this pool party.

"Honey, I bought you a new bikini for the occasion."

"Paul? I'm too old for a bikini. What's wrong with my one piece?"

"The one piece is for the body you used to have, Sweetie, before your personal trainer gave you your new, hot body. Besides, you wore that last year. Everyone has seen you in that."

"I can only imagine what you bought."

"I left it on the bed for you to model."

Pretending I was preoccupied with something in the hall, I delayed going downstairs and waited for her to peek in the bedroom and look at the bikini.

"Paul! Are you nuts? I can't wear this." I watched her reflection from the hall mirror holding the suit up against her while looking in the full length bedroom mirror. "Where's the rest of the suit? I'll be practically naked."

"That's the idea, Honey. That's the idea," I said under my breath while heading downstairs. "I'm glad you like it," I said loud enough for her to hear.

The bikini I chose leaves little to the imagination. After seeing her in this body conforming bathing suit, it's no stretch of the imagination to imagine her naked. And if all the men in attendance have half the active imagination that I do, which by the conversations we've had at the bar about our wives and other women, I know they've already imagined Gloria naked. As her horny husband, I've seen Gloria naked and I still imagine her naked, especially after watching her parade around in this sexy swimsuit.

Ironically, this expensive, bejeweled designer swimwear that I had custom made to show off her body really isn't made to get wet. Besides, she seldom goes in the water, anyway. It's made to compliment her body. It's made to show off the slim sexy and muscular lines of her new, hot body. It's made for her to be seen wearing, while lazily lounging by the pool and looking so much like the sexy Goddess that she is.

Once the alcohol freely flows as much as the flirting, she'll have to change into the second bikini I bought her to have some fun later in the dark, deep end of the pool. You'd think after spending a small fortune on a designer bathing suit, she could swim in it. Go figure. Yet, by the lustful leers and the attention she's receiving from all the men, I'd say that it was a good choice on my part to have had this designer bikini made for her. Only, wait until she sees and wait until all the guys see the fire engine red bikini that I bought her to wear in the water later.

"Paul, normally I don't wear this color, but I especially like this red one you bought. They both fit me like a glove. Now, I can see why you bought two bathing suits. The first one is for lounging and entertaining and this red one is for swimming. They are both so comfortable. I love them. Thank you, Sweetie. I can't wait to wear them."

"You're welcome, Hon," I said delaying my departure by stopping at the bottom of the stairs. I was more than curious to know how she'd receive the red bikini. She doesn't have a lot of red clothes. Red is not her favorite color. This bright, Ferrari red bikini will compliment her blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. The designer talked me into the color and I'm glad she did. She looks spectacular in it.

During the conversations we had earlier in the year about her wearing a bikini this summer, she suddenly did a one-eighty. To think that she wanted to wear a one-piece bathing suit to cover her hot body is beyond me. She wanted to wear something that showed less skin and saved more of her modesty. She didn't want to parade around in a bikini in front of all our friends and neighbors but, proud of all the hard work she's done to makeover her appearance, I was eager to show off her new figure to everyone.

After delivering two children more than twenty years ago, she was embarrassed to show so much skin, but I persuaded her with the promise of a trip to the Caribbean, if she did. Afraid to take the first step, sometimes all it takes with her is a gentle push or an encouraging nudge. And it is my duty, as the loving, horny husband that I am, to do just that.

Someone who has her body has no reason to be embarrassed. Admittedly, with age, she was getting a little soft and flabby, but after working out all through the winter and spring and after having a little bit of liposuction, she's transformed her body in the way that Madonna created her hard, muscular body to make the movie Swept Away and Linda Hamilton did the same in preparation to make the movie, Terminator 2. There's not a stretch mark on her toned, flat stomach or cellulite on her shapely thighs, and her shoulders, arms, and legs have a sexy touch of feminine muscularity.

I talked her into having this pool party instead of having an indoor party. I've been counting the days for the weather to warm up enough to have a pool party, so that we could hopefully have some hot pillow talk later, about all the attention she received. In the way she looks in her bikini and with the attention she's been receiving, we'll be talking about this night for a long time. I can't wait for the party to end and to get her alone in bed and naked.

Whenever she's the center of attention, as she is now, Gloria enjoys the fun she receives when erotically teasing the guys with suggestive sexuality and sexy innuendoes. She acts like she doesn't enjoy the guys wanting her, but she does. She knows how to play the game. In the way she looks and walks and talks, she's a natural at driving men mad with desire.

I like thinking that I taught her everything she knows about how to be a sexy vixen and about what guys want. Only, I suspect she knew how already. A great cocksucker, she's a natural cockteaser. Now that she's a sexy siren, I'm always so hot for her. I can't get enough of her.