Hot Passion on a Cold Alaskan Evening – Part 1

“Come on, Vanessa,” I called from the living room. “We need to hurry or we’ll be late for our flight!”

“I’ll be right out!” I heard her soft soprano voice call back from the bedroom.

I was tying my shoes and waiting at the front door when she came into view, out of breath from pulling a large suitcase that was obviously struggling to stay closed. I wondered silently to myself just what was hiding inside! It was going to be a three-day trip, and I had told her to pack a few outfits for several climates since I hadn’t told her where we were going. But I still didn’t know exactly what was in there. And whenever I asked, she told me it was a surprise and changed the subject. Based on the odd bulges, there was no telling just what it could be.

Short weekend trips had long been a special occasion in our marriage. They first became a welcome haven during difficult times and had continued on as a pleasant time for recharge and reflection—and of course, usually some lovemaking as well. There is something healing and wonderful about being together in God’s creation, so we worked hard to make time for moments like these, where we could cultivate our relationship together.

As we climbed into the car, I looked over at my wife in the passenger seat. She was dressed in some denim blue jeans that clung pleasingly to her broad hips, and the collar of a slightly wrinkled t-shirt peeked out from the neckline of the hoodie she wore, which was emblazoned with the faded logo of the university she had attended.

I looked her over briefly with an appreciative smile before returning my eyes to the road as I drove us toward our local airport. Her wardrobe today reminded me of the casual way she had been dressed when I first met her. Just like back then, her short brunette hair was swept back by a headband that held her tangle-prone coarse waves in place, and showcased her elegant neck and the delicate curve of her lovely pink earlobes.

“So, where are we off to this time?” Vanessa’s voice was a playful purr as she glanced over at me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, my love,” I teased, keeping my eyes on the road.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow across the dashboard. Vanessa had been playfully trying to divine our destination the closer we got to our vacation. It was like a playful game for her. I knew, of course, that we were on our way to Alaska for a short getaway. She had never been there, and I was hoping we’d catch a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis. We had both seen it before on occasion, but never as brightly and beautifully as it shone in the pictures of Alaskan skies.

Vanessa huffed and pouted, crossing her arms over her ample chest as we drove along the freeway. “Come on, you know I hate surprises,” she protested, though the mischievous twinkle in her eye suggested she enjoyed the thrill of not knowing.

“Oh, I know exactly what you hate and what you love,” I said with a knowing smirk. “But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

Vanessa rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile playing on her lips. “Fine, keep your secrets,” she said, her voice a blend of excitement and feigned annoyance. “But what if I start listing all the fun things we could do in the hotel room and you have to tell me if they’re on the itinerary or not?”

I chuckled and glanced at her briefly. “Alright, let’s play that game,” I said, eager to feel the sexual tension thicken between us. “But remember, you can’t get mad if I don’t reveal anything.”

Vanessa leaned in, her voice dropping to a seductive murmur. “I’ll start with an easy one,” she began, her eyes dancing. “How about a little bit of roleplay? You could be a sailor rescuing me from pirates as we swim in the ocean?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. “Well, that does sound exciting,” I said, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. “Clever way to try to narrow down our destination.”

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed playfully as she saw this wouldn’t get her anywhere.

“I hope you did a good job packing for all kinds of weather. I noticed the suitcase looked really full, so that’s a good sign,” I remarked, reaching over to squeeze her outer thigh.

She shivered slightly as my hand surveyed the curve of her thick leg, eventually settling to rest on her inner thigh.

Vanessa shot me a glare, but the glint in her eyes told me she was enjoying this game as much as I was. “Don’t you think we’re going somewhere cold?” she retorted.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I realized she might actually be onto me, and the surprise I had planned for her. Had she been spying on my efforts somehow?

Her left hand reached over to subtly trace the outline of my cock and balls through my clothes in reciprocation for where my right hand currently rested. I was already beginning to thicken in my pants at the thought of all the lovemaking that would likely occur over the course of our short vacation, and her hand hovering over me like that wasn’t exactly helping the situation.

“Well, you never know,” I said, grasping at straws and trying to redirect the conversation. “Maybe the hotel bar has a fancy dress code we need to adhere to.”

Vanessa giggled, her bosom bouncing slightly with the movement. “Or maybe you’re just trying to throw me off the scent,” she said, her eyes still on my crotch. She leaned back into her seat, a smug smile playing on her lips as she watched my reaction. “But anyway, if you want to talk about the bar code, here’s an idea for you to think about. How about I wear my dappled strapless dress? The one you like so much.”

Okay, I admit that the mental image of my heavyset wife with her eye-catching cleavage on display as we ate a nice dinner together was extremely sexy, and my erection accordingly went to full mast. This car banter of ours was getting pretty racy, and I didn’t know what would happen next. I knew I was already playing with fire just by having Vanessa in the car with me, and there was no telling where things might go.

Without warning, she reached under her hoodie and unclasped her bra before pulling it out in a slow and suggestive manner. She draped it across her lap before slowly lifting her hoodie while holding her t-shirt in place. The effect was a tantalizing view of the outline of her voluptuous breasts, her nipples taut and pronounced against the thin, threadbare fabric of the old tee.

This certainly wasn’t the first time I saw Vanessa’s glorious breasts hanging freely underneath a revealingly threadbare shirt, but each time I saw that sight again, it took me back to the first time in which I had. That was one mental image that had taken me by complete surprise and thrilled me to my core years before, just as our friendship was slowly growing into romance. Vanessa and I had been talking after a long day at work for both of us. I remember she had been relaxing on the couch, having already removed her bra, and reclining in a comfy, threadbare t-shirt.

Those early, sexy moments led us to a newfound appreciation for one another in a way that was not just platonic, and they brought a lot of joy to my heart on each remembrance. I believe that a husband and wife should make note of and celebrate each early, beautiful moment that occurred in their relationship along their unique road to falling in love with each other. It will help remember the joy that can be found in their spouse.

At any rate, Vanessa leaned over, and her soft mounds pressed firmly against my arm as she wrapped the discarded lingerie around my neck, bringing me back from my nostalgic daydreaming and into this present, sexy moment.

Still focused on the road, I inhaled dramatically from one of the large cups as if preparing to taste a fine wine. Suddenly, a playful thought struck me. It was as if the festive mood of a much-needed vacation had struck my funny bone to the core.

“Your boobs smell like cake,” I teased, beginning to laugh giddily as I was struck by the sweet scent of her skin and the faint hint of vanilla from her body wash that had absorbed into her cups.

Vanessa giggled melodically. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, her full lips pausing very near my right ear, as if she was debating whether to push this further by kissing my neck or not. Perhaps sensing she wasn’t going to break me on this occasion, and that my mood seemed to be more comedic than sexual, she eventually withdrew from my neck, which still tingled from the recent memory of her hot breath. Vanessa leaned back in her seat again, the faux leather creaking slightly under her weight, and slowly pulled her bra from me.  I inhaled one last time for good measure as one of the large, slightly oblong, beige-colored fabric bowl shapes slid past just beneath my chin.

“Now, tell me more about this secret destination,” she prodded one last time, her sweet voice starting to show mild signs of frustration, an encouraging sign that I was successfully resisting her feminine wiles.

“Nope,” I said, trying to hold my ground in this dangerous game.

“Fine!” she hissed—perhaps only half playfully as she slowly slipped her bra back on, fastening it after a brief struggle, and pulling down her hoodie. “No ‘cake’ for you if you aren’t going to spill the beans!” she said, giggling and giving me a playful wink.

As we traversed security, Vanessa went first, putting her carry-on up onto the conveyor belt and placing the contents of her pockets into a bucket. As she pulled her college hoodie skyward, the static electricity caused her t-shirt to cling to it and go along for the ride, tangling around her head and muffling her soft grunts as she struggled to free her head. This also had the added effect of giving everyone around her a nice, long look at her cute pot belly, her slightly freckled upper chest, and her creamy-beige colored bra that almost perfectly matched the hue of her ample cleavage, which bounced playfully as she tried to separate the hoodie from the t-shirt. My mouth fell open for a split second, and then I let out a chuckle at the sight.

Her face coming into view once more and her cheeks flushing slightly, Vanessa placed her hoodie into the bucket, her t-shirt remaining bunched up around her collarbone as she did so. The exposed tissue of her upper breasts, jiggling and bouncing as she moved, turned several heads in the process. As she calmly pulled down her t-shirt, she looked around at her audience and exclaimed playfully in a matter-of-fact tone, “If they want me to take my clothes off, I might as well take my clothes off!” She smiled at me with sparkling eyes, no sign of awkwardness or discomfort written in her face—on the contrary, she was clearly enjoying this.

I noticed one of the men near me smiling to himself, his eyes lingering with appreciation on my wife’s body as she walked forward into the metal detector, her large round ass swaying as she did so.

While I will be the first to admit that Vanessa doesn’t have the ideal physique according to contemporary Western standards, I still suspect that a large number of the world’s men—including some of the men currently reading this story—would probably not complain at all if they were to see her in her two-piece swimsuit, or to see her in her bra and panties, or to see her bathing, or simply laying across a bed wearing no clothing at all. One of her female acquaintances who had incidentally seen her topless once had remarked that Vanessa has “perfect breasts.” I can fully concur with that assessment, and this train of thought made me feel especially grateful that I was the one who got to go home to her every night. And while I knew Vanessa well enough to know this hadn’t been a planned show, I also knew her well enough to know she went with it when it happened, enjoying the attention it brought her way. That’s my Vanessa, always the life of the party. And if it isn’t a party, her presence can quickly turn it into one!

(Author’s note: The original story was too long, so I had to split it up! Be on the lookout for part two, to see what Vanessa had planned for me on our vacation!)

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