Wife's Wet T¬Shirt in Hotel Hot¬Tub
, Peter, I’m sorry, I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” said my wife, swaying drunkenly in his embrace and trying to hold onto him for support. “Fuck, just wear your underwear, no one cares,” said Peter. I was disgusted by the spittle flying from his drunken lips. “Shh, you are terrible,” laughed my wife. She slapped his muscular chest again as she had been doing all night. “But maybe I can wear a t¬shirt and some shorts. What do you think, Sheldon? Would you mind if I joined Peter and his friends?” “Wet T-SHIRT party, boys!” shouted Peter to his pals who were leaning against the wall for support. “Alexa is gonna wear a t¬shirt in the hottub!” “Awesome!” shouted the other two douchebags. “Omigod, you guys are terrible,” laughed my wife. “I’ll go get changed and meet you at the hot tub in just a few minutes.” Then the elevator arrived and we got on. “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded of my wife. “You can’t go around, carousing with those asshats all night in the hot tub! And what’s this wet t¬shirt business? That doesn’t sound very ladylike to me!” “Oh Sheldon,” said my wife, rolling her eyes drunkenly. “Pish, you are making a big deal out of nothing! I’m just trying to have fun, meet new people, try new things!” “Like show some strange guys what your boobs look like in a wet t¬shirt?
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, Peter, I’m sorry, I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” said my wife, swaying drunkenly in his embrace and trying to hold onto him for support. “Fuck, just wear your underwear, no one cares,” said Peter. I was disgusted by the spittle flying from his drunken lips. “Shh, you are terrible,” laughed my wife. She slapped his muscular chest again as she had been doing all night. “But maybe I can wear a t¬shirt and some shorts. What do you think, Sheldon? Would you mind if I joined Peter and his friends?” “Wet T-SHIRT party, boys!” shouted Peter to his pals who were leaning against the wall for support. “Alexa is gonna wear a t¬shirt in the hottub!” “Awesome!” shouted the other two douchebags. “Omigod, you guys are terrible,” laughed my wife. “I’ll go get changed and meet you at the hot tub in just a few minutes.” Then the elevator arrived and we got on. “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded of my wife. “You can’t go around, carousing with those asshats all night in the hot tub! And what’s this wet t¬shirt business? That doesn’t sound very ladylike to me!” “Oh Sheldon,” said my wife, rolling her eyes drunkenly. “Pish, you are making a big deal out of nothing! I’m just trying to have fun, meet new people, try new things!” “Like show some strange guys what your boobs look like in a wet t¬shirt?
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