“Bye,” I whispered through the crack of the door just before it clicked shut. I threw the hotel latch and strode back into my room. What the hell was his name? Matt. Mike! Mark? Whatever. I shrugged to myself. Means to an end. Leaning over the suitcase rack, I rummaged through my overnight bag for my vibrator. My reflection grinned back at me from the full-length mirror when my hand gripped its Sturdy shaft. I was quite the mess: my chocolate bob dishevelled; mascara streaked; and the lipstick all but kissed from my lips. “Perfect,” I told myself as I straightened, smoothing the hem of my pink tee down over my navel. It was another couple of inches to my black lace panties, just how my husband liked it. The tickle of cum that began to leak from between my legs snapped me back into the moment. Hobbling over to the desk as I clenched my pelvic floor, I tossed my vibrator onto the bed, the fuchsia toy tumbling on the white sheet like a dirty little gymnast. I crouched over my iPad and triple-tapped it with three fingers to deactivate the screen curtain, revealing the camera was still recording. I considered a second, my lips parting in an impish grin. What the hell? Leaving the video running, I unplugged the charger and carried my iPad over to the bed, propping it up on its case just short of the wet spot on the left. It had a good front-facing angle on the top half of the mattress on the other side. Quickly gathering up the pillows from the floor, I piled them up against the timber headboard. “Oh!” I inhaled in sudden recollection. I bounced back over to the desk and snatched up my istanbul travesti phone. As I sat down on the bed, I text my daughter, ‘You going to be up for a bit? I just wanted to talk to Adam first. XX’ Her reply came back a few seconds later with a string of emojis, most of which I didn’t understand. ‘All good. I’ll be up all night on my history assignment. We had dinner – yes, I ate something! Adam’s in his man cave. Love you.’ I huffed a laugh, dropping my phone down next to my iPad and shuffling back against the pillows. With my thoughts back on my husband, my tummy fluttered and my hands began to shake. It wasn’t until I caught my own preening gestures on the screen that I realised I was being silly. But more pressing, the lighting was terrible. The warm glow of the lamp over my shoulder cast me in a dull silhouette, made all the worse by the contrast of my body against the white sheets. I switched off the bedside and flicked on the reading light mounted in the ceiling above my head. It was far too bright, and my insecurities ran rampant as my hands sub-consciously stroked my thighs. I snorted a smile. What did Adam call it? My flawless imperfections. God, I loved him. Holding onto that thought, I took a deep breath in through my nose, held it a second, then slowly exhaled. It didn’t work. I was still wound up tight. Fuck it. “Hey, Siri, FaceTime Adam.” The synthesised ring tone only trilled once before my iPad chimed and my husband’s face filled the screen. I couldn’t help but giggle. He must have been sitting there on the edge of his seat all night, waiting travesti istanbul for my call. “Well, well, well,” he taunted with a grin, leaning back in his chair and pushing himself out from the desk so all but his lower legs came into frame. A white business shirt untucked over charcoal slacks, the top two buttons undone. His dark eyes flashed with menace as he took in my image. “Look what the cat dragged in.” “Hi,” I breathed. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. My nipples puckered against the pink cotton, the perpetual feedback loop of the sensation spiralling in intensity until I thought my breasts would burst. “You’ve been quite the tease now, haven’t you?” “What do you mean?” I bit my bottom lip, my blush deepening. He squinted at me for a long second. The silence drew out my heartbeat, quick and heavy. Then a twitch at the corner of his mouth before he leaned forward to grab something from the desk. Leaning back with his phone, he read from the screen, “’Just going to have a quick drink with a guy I met at the conference. Call you after. XX.’” “It was just a drink.” I couldn’t help but smile. I fiddled with the neck of my t-shirt, making sure my wrist squeezed against my breast. “It was the least I could do. He was so nice to walk me back to the hotel after dinner.” “Hmm,” he responded, his attention returning to his phone. “’The bar’s really crowded.’” “It was,” I agreed. I lifted my knee closest to the camera, rubbing my thighs together as I did. My skin was slick, all the hotter for the lack of friction. “’We can’t get a table…’” He looked up at istanbul travestileri me, his eyes boring into mine from half a country away. “Uh-huh.” I could hear my breath shaking. “’We’re just going to go up to my room. XX.’” He laid the phone on his thigh and raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay for a married woman to invite a man up to her hotel room, isn’t it?” I fluttered my eyelashes before tracing my fingertip across my nipple. “Especially when he was so nice to me.” Adam’s hand slowly slid in under the hem of his shirt. “You don’t mind, do you?” I cooed. “It would have been rude not to.” He gasped, his hand clearly in motion in his lap. “You don’t want your wife to be rude?” I tweaked my stiff buds through my tee. “No,” he groaned. “That wouldn’t be very friendly.” “You want me to be friendly, right?” I lifted my chin, cupping my breasts with both hands. “Just how friendly were you?” His whole arm twitched in a long, patient cadence. I couldn’t catch the giggle. I looked away and buried my face into my shoulder, my hands dropping to my lap. “Well?” His tone was firm but playful. I flexed my arms, pushing my breasts together. My fingers slid through the spreading glaze on my inner thighs as my hands burrowed between my legs. “Oh, Sweety,” I breathed, “I was so nice to him. You would have been so happy.” Adam rolled his head back with a groan. His shirt lifted slightly, revealing his pants were undone. He was fisting his gorgeous cock, the shaft glistening from between his fingers. “Oh, Adam,” I moaned, reaching out for my vibrator. “Is it turning you on hearing how friendly I was tonight? It’s okay it was with another man, isn’t it?” “What did you do?” His voice was ragged. “I was just so lonely,” I whined, bringing the head of my toy to my lips. “And he was really nice to me.” “What the fuck did you do!” he growled through clenched teeth.