I Can’t Believe I Did It

I walked in, did a quick scan of the place and saw George at other end of the bar sitting at a corner table just like he said. I walked about half way down the bar. I was so uptight I was shaking. Now that I was here, I wasn't so sure it was a good idea. The place looked like a meat market. Most of the patrons were guys and the few women I did see were already hooked up or in large groups. Safety in numbers you know.

I ordered a drink and when the bartender brought it, he refused my money. "He said to tell you not to look but the guy over in the corner table paid for it. It's a virgin style. He gave me an extra twenty and told me that no matter what anyone orders you I'm to make it a virgin. He also said that any drinks you have to order for yourself I should put on his tab. Is that OK?"

I was dumbfounded. I guess George figured I'd need my wits about me. I was thinking a couple of drinks would be needed to go through with this, but I could see the wisdom in not drinking any alcohol. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

The bartender smiled and nodded. Then he asked, "Do you know the gentleman?"

"He's my husband," I replied without thinking.

The bartender looked confused. After looking back and forth between George and I a few times, he finally smiled. "I get it, I've heard of couples like you. Well, I hope you both have a good time."

Heard of couples like us? I didn't get his drift at first. Then I thought of what George had said about other people having a dark side and how they had ways of "scratching the itch." I guess if George could find out about that so could anyone else.

The bartender turned to go, but turned around and said, "Look, if you don't find anyone to your liking I don't have to close tonight. I get off at ten," and smiled. Just then someone caught his eye and he hurried off to get their order.

I got out my cell and sent a text to George:

"I'm not sure I like this. Looks like a meat market."

He replied:

"Give it 2 hrs. We can last that long."

I sent back:

"OK. 2 hrs. No more."

I put my phone away and sipped my drink. Can't say as I liked the band. I hoped they had some slow numbers in their repertoire. What they were playing was way too loud and fast to do what we came to do. I was mostly through my drink when a guy came up to the bar on my right and motioned the bartender over.

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked.

"I feel like a Horny Bull," he replied.

"Coming right up."

The bartender went off to get the drink. The guy turned to me and asked, "What are you drinking?"

I wasn't too sure that I wanted to talk to him, what with the double entendre in his drink order, but I answered anyway. "Sloe Gin Fizz."

"Ah," he said. "I'll bet you'd like a Sloe Screw. Ever try one?"

Now I knew I didn't want to talk to him. The bartender brought his drink before I could figure out what to say. He tossed a twenty on the bar and said, "Bring the lady a Sloe Screw on me." He smiled at me as the bartender just shook his head and went to get the drink. The guy was smiling a bit of a lecherous smile. "I just got here, any action in the place," he asked. I shook my head no. "Well I'll just have to see if I can change that. Wanna hit the dance floor first."

The bartender brought the drink and his change as I flashed my wedding rings at the guy and said, "Look, I'm married and I'm waiting for my husband. I don't think he'll appreciate you hitting on me like this."

The guy scooped up his change and said, "Boy have you got the wrong bar," and stormed off.

"A bit crude," the bartender observed. "I don't blame you for sending him packing. He tapped the drink and said, "All that's in here is orange juice per your husbands orders. The booze is supposed to be Sloe Gin. Not a bad ladies drink really. You want it or shall I pour it out?"

"Pour it out. If I drink it, the guy might get the idea I owe him something and come back later when it becomes obvious I'm not meeting my husband."

"You got it. You want a refill?"

I nodded. I checked the clock, it hadn't even been a half an hour. God this night is dragging. Why did I ever agree to two hours? I sucked down the remainder of my drink when the bartender brought my fresh drink. About half way through the second drink I was thinking that I ought to tell the bartender to actually put some Sloe Gin in my next drink because I wasn't getting anything out of just sitting here and a light buzz would be welcome.

Just then the bartender brought me another drink. I looked at him questioningly.

"The gentleman at the end of the bar sends his compliments," he said with a toss of his head to my right.

I looked down the bar and there was a guy looking at me and he raised his glass to me. What the hell, this is what we're here for, I thought. I raised my glass in thank you. As would be expected, he got up and came and sat next to me as I was finishing my second drink.

"Would you like to dance?"

The music wasn't exactly the kind of thing that would lend itself to our objective but it beat sitting there drinking fizz without the sloe gin. I slipped my wrist through the loop on my clutch and went down the steps to the dance floor. It was one of those shake it up numbers so I was fairly sure that I'd not be molested out there.

I couldn't be more wrong. We danced a bit and he turned me around and pulled me to him by my hips and ground his crotch, complete with erection against my butt. Then he turned me around and forced his leg between mine and pulled me in by the hips again. It was doing nothing for me. When he made his next move I escaped and headed back to the bar.

"Hey babe, what the matter? I didn't even get to my good moves yet."

"I don't do that kind of dancing."

"Oh, well I don't know any other kind. Look, why don't we get a table a get to know each other better?"

"Ah, I don't think so. Look thanks for the drink, but I don't think we're going to hit it off."

"Oh, so you're just out for the free drinks and don't want to give anything in return."

I fumed and dug into my mad money again. "Here's five dollars, it's all I've got. I'm putting my drinks on plastic."

"Bitch! Keep the drink, I don't want your money," he seethed and walked away.

This is not working.

I nursed my free drink and counted down the time getting more bored by the minute. My phone chirped so I dug it out of my clutch.

George had sent me a text:

"What happened, you had a live one."

I replied:

"To rough."

George:

"Looking @ the dance floor, that as good as it gets. Stay the whole dance next time."

Me:

"OK."

About the time I finished my free drink another guy came up and wanted to buy me a drink, so I let him. "I'm surprised that you're still alone after all this time."

"I guess I'm too picky."

"How about you give me a chance? I'm a good dancer."

"OK, you can't be any worse than the last guy."

This guy was kind of like George on the dance floor. I know he said he was a good dancer, but what constitutes a good dancer is subjective. He had a lot of impressive moves, (have ever watched Saturday Night Fever) but he had no sense of rhythm. All of the moves were done independent of the beat and in random order. He was like the other guy in that he managed a lot of touching in the fast song. Mostly my butt with his hands, but grinding his crotch into my butt was there as well and he even managed a couple of quick gropes of my boobs. I think the groping was what he thought made him a good dancer. He was good at that, though it did nothing to turn me on. Conversely, it made me feel violated.

At the end of the dance, he opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. I grabbed his hand and said, "Thanks for the dance. I think I'll set the next few out." I looked around and saw a table of young things dressed pretty provocatively and continued, "Why don't you see if one of those girls wouldn't like to dance. They seem to be dancing with several different guys."

I left him standing in the middle of the dance floor and went back to my place at the bar. As I sat down, my phone chirped.

It was George again:

"What happened? He seemed to really be interested in you."

Me:

"He's really not a good dancer."

George:

"Looked good to me."

Me:

"No sense of rhythm."

George:

"If this is going to work, you have to spend some time with the guy."

George:

"If you don't want to dance with them, sit with them."

I felt like a child being chastised by my father for not play with the other kids.

Me:

"OK, next time."

I signaled the bartender and he came over.

"Could I ask your name?"

"It's Mike," he smiled back.

"Look Mike, I know my husband thinks I should have virgin drinks, but I need to loosen up. Could you make me a 'real' Gin Fizz? A double? And after that, no matter what I say, or anyone else says, only virgin drinks, OK?"

"You know I get off in an hour and a half. The way things are going, you might want to consider my offer."

"Thanks, but I'll continue to try my husbands idea. Can I get the 'real' Gin Fizz please?"

"Coming right up. One, and only one, 'real' Gin Fizz."

Next time ended up being in about five minutes, as I sat drinking the first real drink I'd, OK... George bought. This surfer looking guy walked up. Sorry that's the only way I could describe him. He was young, well tanned, had shaggy blonde hair and weather lines around his eyes, like he spent a lot of time in the out of doors.

"Hey," he said, "would you like to dance?"

I shrugged and slugged down the last of my drink.

"Sure, why not."

The drink had kind of burned on the way down. I'm not sure it's a good idea to have sloe gin fizz double.

Out on the dance floor, it seems that a lot of touching and at least some groping are the order of the day at this club. At least this guy had a sense of rhythm and did do some things that looked like dancing in time to the beat. Even at that, his hands found my butt at least forty percent of the time and other parts of my body at least twenty percent. He didn't miss my boobs, but at least it wasn't rough. Only once it was for a prolonged period of time. That was when he was behind me with his arms around my waist and was nuzzling my neck. About the most sensuous thing that happened that night. He didn't seem to have any inhibitions about any one seeing him grope me. He just let his hand creep up until he had a handful of breast and kept it there, only removing it when he spun me around to face him and pulled my waist to his. Unlike his counter parts, he did lead, that is to say we moved about the dance floor, rather than just stay in one area.

At the end of the song, he had his arm around my waist and started guiding me off the dance floor. "Come meet my friends," he said.

I was a bit disoriented and was unsure of which way I should be going. The next thing I knew, we'd climbed the two steps to a table where three guys sat.

"Guys, I want you to meet my dance partner. She about the best dancer I've come across at this club. This is Harold, Joe, and Fred and I'm Les. I didn't catch your name." They were all younger than George and I.

"I'm Lu... Lucille." I didn't want to use my real name, but Lucille was close enough to my own that I shouldn't have too much trouble answering to it.

"I'd bet you want another drink. I'll go get you one. What are you drinking?"

"Oh, Mike, the bartender knows. Just point me out to him. I like my drinks a special way and he's good at making them that way."

Les trotted off to the bar and Joe said, "Sit down, Lucille, take load off." I sat in the only vacant chair. "You sure looked good out there. Maybe you'd favor me with a dance."

"Maybe, after I've had my drink. I'm a bit winded. This kind of dancing is hard work."

"I'll hold you to that," Joe replied.

"You'll hold her to something else too," Fred claimed. Everyone seemed to find that mildly amusing.

"It's unusual for a woman to come to this kind of place alone," Harold pointed out.

I needed a story. I was still wearing my wedding rings so I went with an absent husband. "Oh, I was supposed to go out tonight with my husband, but he couldn't make it at the last moment. Got called out of town." Did that sound plausible? All the while, I was watching Les coming back from the bar sans drink.

"I ordered us all another round," Les said when he reached the table. "The cocktail waitress will bring them. This round's on me guys. I expect that each of you will return the favor."

"I bought the first round, if you remember," Fred pointed out.

"I'm up next," Joe offered.

"I guess that leaves me sucking hind tit," Harold observed.

"Well, Fred, I guess you owe the lady an extra drink."

Everyone laughed at that. I wasn't sure how that would work out. Did they expect me to drink two drinks at once at some time?

A short time later a scantily clad young woman came over with a tray of drinks. I got the familiar glass with the right color liquid in it and tasted it tentatively. To my relief, it was a virgin drink. I was relieved because after the double, I already had a mild buzz on and didn't want get any more buzzed. I knew that I'd be asked to dance again soon, and I didn't want to leave my drink unattended, having noticed the bartender pick up my new drink and set on a shelf behind the bar when I went to dance with guy number two. So I kind of slugged it down to make sure that I'd be able to throw down the rest quickly when I went to the dance floor.

It was Joe's turn to buy, but he said, "Now that you're refreshed, how about a dance with me? Since it'll be my turn to buy next I think I should have the pleasure of a dance with you before I do, just like Les."

Out on the floor we went. Joe proved himself a master at hand placement and managed to cover that same ground that Les had. The big difference was that Joe managed to disguise the fact he had a hold of my boob by wrapping both arms around me just under my bustline a snaked a the hand out from under to massage the boob. However, he made no effort to disguise the fact he had a hard on and was pressing it against various parts of my body including my crotch. He managed that rather often, each time grinning at me with a lecherous grin.

That sat the pattern and for the next hour, I was passed around like a play thing amongst the four of them. Between dances, since the table only had four chairs I was expected to sit on the lap of my most recent dance partner. That's where they really took advantage. It was all I could do to keep them from lifting my skirt right up to my waist. I had to keep a hand between my legs and even at that, I think my stockings were wearing thin on the inside of my thighs. I felt violated, anything but turned on like I was supposed to.

I noticed the time was well past the time I'd agreed to stay and said, "Well guys, it's getting late and I'm tired. I think I should go home and get off my feet."

"Oh, the night's still young," insisted Joe. "Look we were just talking about moving the party to my place. You could get off your feet there and the drinks are a hell of a lot cheaper. We could have a lot more fun there than we can here."

I began to despair at being able to extradite myself from the situation graciously and I'd taken about all I could. It was time to summon help. I was truly afraid of the fun we'd have there.

"I don't know guys," I said. "I'm really tired." I stretched, leaning back putting both arms out to my side being sure to make a fist. Fred, whose lap I was sitting in took advantage of the fact I didn't have a hand between my legs and slid his hand up my leg all the way to my crotch. I quickly ended my stretch with my right hand straight up in the air.

Seeing Fred's hand reach it's goal, emboldened Les, who pulled me into a kiss and grabbed a boob as Fred was pressing his advantage, trying to get a finger into the folds of my vulva. When Les broke the kiss, he didn't take his hand away from my boob. They had watched me consume four drinks in an hour and I'm sure they thought that my claiming to be sleepy was an indication of how drunk I was.

I looked over to George's table and was horrified to see he wasn't there. Oh God what a time for him to have gone to the restroom. Harold stood and leaned over to kiss me next. Oh God, George, I need George. I made a fist and stuck my right had up again. These guys were all over me again. I was in full panic mode when the voice I'd been desperate to hear rang out.

"So Luce, this is what you do when you think I'm out of town!"

His voice sounded angry, but I didn't care. He could be as angry as he wanted so long as he got me out of here. Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at him. Fred didn't even take his hand out from between my legs, but he did stop probing.

Harold turned to face him. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"I'm her husband." Then looking straight at me. "I thought you might be fooling around on me when I was out of town, but I thought it's be with just one guy. I didn't know you were into groups."

"George, it's not what it looks like," I said standing up. I had to push Fred's hand away from my leg.

"It looked like you were about to take on the whole group right here in the club." He stared each of the guys down and then said to me, "I'll give you a choice. You can leave with me right now, and spend the rest of your life convincing me you're not doing this again, or you can let one or more of these guys take you home. You can come by tomorrow and get your things, which you'll find out on the porch. But if you choose that option, you'd better bring something to carry them in because I'm not packing for you."

He turned to walk away. I hoped it was a gamble. I grabbed him. "George, please. I want to go with you. I'll make it up to you."

He turned and looked at the guys. "How many times have you been with these guys?" he asked loud enough for them to hear.

"Never, never before tonight. I've never done this before." Now there was a true statement.

He stared at each of them for a moment then said, "If I ever have reason to suspect otherwise, you're out on your ear. Now come on." He turned and strode away purposely. I hurried after him without looking back.

Once outside, George grabbed me and kissed me like he'd been away for a year. I hit him on the arm when he broke the kiss.

"I never want to do that again!"

"Those guys were feeling you up and not even trying to hide it. That was hot."

"They weren't feeling me up, they were mauling me. It wasn't a turn on it; made me feel cheap and in the end, I was afraid. You said it looked like I was about to take on the whole group right there in the club. What they wanted was for us to go to Joe's apartment and I'm sure that's what they had in mind if I'd have gone."

George had a wild look in his eye. "Did you want to go?" he asked.

"No! I told you I was afraid."

Finally he understood and held me close.

"I'm sorry, from my point of view you looked like you should be having a good time."

"I wasn't. It wasn't like it was with Dan at all. Dan was a gentleman; these guys were just horny and wanted to get me drunk and take me off to Joe's and so all of them could screw me. They thought I was a cheating wife and some kind of slut."

We walked to the car with him holding me close. The drive home was in silence. We did make love that night, not the passionate, lust filled night we had imagined, but lovingly sensuous.

Over coffee the next morning, George asked, "You said last night they thought you were some kind of slut. But before you talked about being sluttish and were turned on by the idea. What's the difference?"