The Best Weekend Ever

He pulled me to my feet and took off my fitted black t-shirt, revealing the black lace bra I bought specifically for this trip, pushed me back onto the bed and knelt between my legs, leaning over me. Our eyes met for a second before he brought his face to mine and kissed me. Tasting myself on his lips drove me mad. I wrapped my legs around him and he rolled onto his back, surprising me and pulling me on top of him, all the while his cock teasing me at my entrance.

"You want it?" he asked in a low, stern voice. I couldn't speak. I nodded vigorously, biting my lower lip, my eyes wide, pleading. He nodded his instruction so I angled my hips, and he slid inside of me, slowly. I moaned against his mouth as I felt him stretch me, fill me. We fit together perfectly.

We moved together that way for a short time. Just before I could hit a good rhythm he moved his hands from my hips to my stomach and pushed me up so I was sitting astride him as he lay beneath me. We picked up the

pace a bit, and just when I thought it didn't get any better than this, he took his thumb and put it directly on my clit with the perfect amount of pressure. I lost my fucking mind. My orgasm ripped through me so intensely that I couldn't tell you what I said or did or how long it actually lasted. All I know is that when I floated back down to earth and opened my eyes, his look of surprised satisfaction was enough to make me wonder about how it looked from his perspective.

"Again," he ordered. My eyes widened slightly.

"Yes." As if I could do anything besides follow his command. He made me come like that again and again before he finally let go himself.

Basking in the glow of our orgasms, I lay blissfully on his shoulder, my mind unable to comprehend any tangible thoughts quite yet. He broke the silence after a few minutes.

"Well, now that we got that out of the way, we can go to dinner."

We were seated at a table in the corner of the upscale Mexican restaurant he chose. In the middle of the dining area sat an open fire pit that illuminated the room in a soft glow. I took the seat next to him, rather than across, and wondered how we looked to the other restaurant patrons. Surely this appeared to be a date to the uninformed, which somehow made it sexier to me.

He ordered his drink as well as mine, something Dave would never do. Trey didn't ask me what I was going to drink. He knew I drank rum and diet coke and informed that waitress that is what I would be drinking. It was such a huge turn-on that I didn't even so much as talk to the server. He had a way of letting me know who was in charge and I was only too happy to let him take the reins.

In my "real" life, as I had come to think of it, Dave was the one who got to be the passenger while I drove for the last ten years. Sure, we had only been married for seven of those years, but Dave wasn't much of a driver to begin with. In my early twenties, I had so many goals and ideas of what I needed to accomplish. Dave never contradicted those goals. It was as if once he knew I was in it with him for the long haul, he handed me the proverbial car keys to let me know he was along for the ride as long as I was driving.

Trey was different in so many different ways. He had planned everything for this excursion; all I had to do was get on a plane. It was such a welcome break from the stressful reality of running a household, working a full time job, and raising a little boy. It wasn't reality, but it sure felt like it as I sat next to him in that restaurant, our knees rubbing together discreetly under the table.

Ever meticulous, Trey was careful not to show any overt displays of affection towards me while out in public. After all, as he reminded me, he was the one who lived here. He could know anyone anywhere we went. In retrospect I think that was part of the thrill for him.

I drank my drinks too quickly, although I felt much more relaxed since "the first time" was now out of the way. We ate a little bit, but not too much, as we didn't want the food to impact the strength of ecstasy I'd brought with for after dinner. X was hard to come by these days, seeing as how possession equated to a felony if you got caught. Before I left for Seattle, I traded a friend a bag of our notoriously good pot for two hits of X. I could only get two pills but it was really all we needed.

Pulling the pill bottle out of my purse, I smiled at him. We had finished our dinner and he asked the server for the check.

"Are you ready for these?" I asked slyly.

"What's the plan?" He raised an eyebrow at me while he picked his little red pill off the table.

"The plan is... We take this now and by the time we get back to our room we will be feeling pretty fucking good." "You don't already feel good?" He asked, knowing the answer.

"Of course I do. But... let's party!" I gave him my sexiest smile. We had talked about rolling together and I told him that I picked up the pills a week before I left. He knew exactly what the plan was, but hesitated a moment before putting it in his mouth. He watched me put it in my mouth, crunch it up once, and swallow it. The chemicals tasted disgusting, but I washed it down with the last of my rum and diet.

"Bottoms up baby," I said lifting my empty glass as if to encourage him to do the same.

"You're trouble," he said on a laugh, and took his pill without crunching it up. He tossed some bills on the table as we got up to leave. I walked in front of him, in such a way that I knew would result in him staring at my ass. Once we were around the corner, away from the restaurant's big picture windows, he smacked it hard. I giggled - mission accomplished.

We arrived back at the hotel just in time. As we walked through the lobby, the lights seemed brighter than usual and every breeze and scent seemed more pleasurable than normal. Once we were in the elevator I told him that I thought it was starting to kick in, but his may take longer since he didn't chew it up. He didn't indicate his level of sobriety either way, but just stared at me.

"You're even more beautiful in person," he said, finally. I smiled as the doors slid open, and took his hand. We hurried down the hall to our room and were only too happy to lock the door behind us.

The things that happened behind those doors from 10:00 pm that Friday night until we emerged the next afternoon, a good 14 hours later, blew. my. mind. He put on a play list of songs he had obviously put together for the occasion, and we smoked and drank and fucked until 8:00 am the next morning. I couldn't recall the last time I'd partied until the sun came up. The time just flew by with him, though, and before I knew it I noticed the light creeping in from the sliding glass doors.