I Can’t Believe I Did It

"The difference is, it's one thing for me to feel like a slut and maybe even act out on it. But it's another when other people think I'm a slut and that they can do what ever they want because of it. Feeling sluttish is just naughty, but being perceived as a slut means there's no respect."

George nodded. "You said you didn't ever want to do that again. Was that just the place or do you really want to give up putting spice back in our love life?"

I had to think about that. It was true that we had become addicted to spicing up our love life with me having some interaction with other men. Saturday was a disaster, but is there a way the idea could work? Maybe it had been the venue. There were younger people there. It was a meat market. The guys had every right to think a woman alone was on the prowl and wanted to hook up.

"I don't know. Maybe we should preview the places we go to see what kind of crowd was there. Last night we were at a singles bar where people go to hook up. Maybe it would be different at another kind of bar."

"OK, I'll do some more research and see what kind of places there might be."

Well that was the beginning of our attempt to expand our adventure. We still went to most of the HOA dances, but at least once a month we tried to make the dance with strangers thing work. We learned to stay away from the singles' bars. The new rule was if I didn't like the place going in, I'd go right back to the car. We tried all kinds of different venues.

We even went to a couple of country and western bars. About the only dances I could get into there was "The Texas Two Step." There was a lot of belly rubbing and a little bit of fondling, but the good ol' boys were just too laid back to do much else.

Finally, we discovered some hotels that had live music in their lounges on the weekends. Being a hotel, the greater number of patrons were from out of town. Even better. We could go back to the same place and the odds of running into the same guy was small. We played the go in separately game to some success.

The first time we were at a hotel made us decide that this was the way to go. I managed to get picked up by an older gentleman who took three dances to make his first real move. Oh, by the second dance, he had a noticeable hard on. About halfway through the second dance his hand wondered down to my butt. I just leaned back and smiled at him and snuggled in to rub his erection with my leg as we danced. The third dance he got bolder and started out with a hand on my butt and I got bolder too. I put both hands behind his neck and snuggled right in. By the time that dance was over, he fondled my boob and kissed me at the end of the dance. Déjà vu.

We took a break when the band did and sat in a back booth. I noticed that George changed his seat at the bar so he could see what we were up too. After the drinks we ordered arrived, the guy didn't disappoint. He sat with his arm around me and made small talk. During a lull, he leaned in and kissed me. When I returned the kiss, he sat his drink down and pulled me too him. We necked a bit and it didn't take long for him to go exploring. He took his time so that the anticipation worked to excite me as much as what he did. He managed to get a hand inside my blouse and at least his finger tips inside my bra as far as my nipples. This really turned him on and that in turn turned me on.

"We could go up to my room," he suggested.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea."

"I need some relief," he begged.

"Let me see what I can do."

I put my hand on his erection and pulled him to my breast which was nearly exposed because of the number of buttons he'd undone. I looked over his shoulder at George as I stroked him through his pants. He was apparently wearing briefs because it just curled back between his legs. In that position I couldn't get to the sensitive underside, so bunched up his trouser leg and got my fingers inside the leg band. Pulling it up and using my thumb I pushed it out. Now it was actually sticking up where I could stroke it almost as good as if it was outside his pants. And that's what I did. George's eyes were full of lust focused under the table as I stroked the guy in an increasing rhythm. All of this fed my lust. I could feel myself wetting the gusset of my panties and smell my own aroma.

When the inevitable happened, he spasmed and tried not to make much noise. I could feel the semen seeping through the fabric of his pants. He put his hand on the table to steady himself and smiled at me. "Are you sure you won't come up to my room?" he wanted to know.

"I've got to go to ladies room," I told him. Taking my purse, I headed out. The restrooms were near the lobby entrance. Once out of sight, my phone was out and I called George.

When he answered I said, "Meet me in the lobby," and broke the connection.

I waited for George to go by and then simply stepped out and followed. I caught to him before he stopped to wait. "Keep going, right out the door," I told him.

We had parked on the street around the corner and we headed straight there. In the car I pulled George to me and kissed him.

"God that was hot," George said when we came up for air.

"Get me home and screw my brains out," I demanded.

Well, I don't need to bore you with the details of the remainder of the weekend. Suffice to say that the total was ten sessions, each as hot as the last.

What is important to say was George's comments the next day while we were finishing up taking a meal break. We were replaying the events of the evening with George offering different scenarios of things I might, or he might have done different. When we got to point of where I was getting him off, George observed, "I thought you were trying to get him out of his pants to jack him off."

"Oh no, I thought about it, but it just not that private there. I mean you could see what we were doing, and anyone else could have come back to that part of the bar and seen as well."

George then surprised me by saying, "We'll have to see if we can find some place where it is private enough. Oh God, that would so hot, to see your hand pumping a bare cock and to see him shoot his wad all over the place."

I was a bit shocked but couldn't get into it right then because George picked that moment to jump my bones again. That episode just confirmed that we were hooked on this extracurricular aphrodisiac.

We tried a couple of more hotels with much the same results. The real problem was that the guys all wanted to take me up to their room and I knew I couldn't do that I'd have no control over what happened and no George to step in when I couldn't extradite myself. One of the hotels we found had table clothes and there, the hard-ons came out, but because of the table clothes George didn't see. When I told George that I had given a flesh on flesh hand job, that became our favorite venue. I'm sure they wondered about the gooey napkins the turned up at our tables.

After third time at that particular hotel, George mentioned in the after glow, "You know, with the table clothes covering so much, and you being in a booth, I half expected that your head would disappear into his lap. I mean no one could see a blow job any more than a hand job."

I don't know what the hell is with me, but it seems that if George mentions some sluttish thing to do, I take it as a challenge to do it. It was a couple of months before we went back to that hotel. Sure enough, the guy who latched onto me chose a booth for us to take our break in. George, true to form, managed a seat where he could monitor the action. By 11:00 my Don Juan was all over me in the booth. I'd worn that wraparound blouse with my now favorite, for these occasions, shelf bra and he had discovered that with ease. I had purposely worn the blouse loose enough that given the right angle, it would flop open enough to allow my right boob to be seen in it's entirety. This also made it easy for the guy to get a hand inside and he did often. Needless to say, that worked me up pretty good and when we were in the booth, he had no trouble getting my skirt up to my waist and fondling my sopping panties. He felt confident enough to nuzzle his mouth over to my bare nipple for a lick and a suck.

Then the inevitable, "How about we go up to my room," fell on my ears.

"What's a matter? Got a problem?" I said as my hand reached for his fly.

"God you know it," he replied as I clutched him.

"Why wait for the room, I think I can do something about that here."

I unzipped him and pulled him out of his pants. He took a sharp breath and looked around. "That guy over there can see us," he observed with a nod of his head toward George.

"He can't tell what we're doing and if he does figure it out, he'll just be jealous that I picked you to dance with and not him."

He leaned back and closed his eyes as I stroked him. I looked straight at George and his word rang in my ears. "I mean no one could see a blow job any more than a hand job." My partner reached down to my crotch and slipped a couple of finger inside the gusset of my panties, burying them in the wetness there up to the second knuckle. I almost forgot what I had in mind. I had to take action, before I took him up on his offer to go to his room. So I leaned down under the table to take him in my mouth. It didn't take long to have a mouthful of come. No gooey napkins tonight. As usual once he got off, I excused myself and met George in the lobby and we went home.

The following day, we were in our usual sexual high. "God that was hot," George observed. "We're going to have to find more places where you can do that sort of thing." Some how, I knew he would. I knew I'd be tasting strange come again and maybe often. My inner slut reveled in the thought.

On off weekends, George scouted other places and found a couple of neighborhood bars that had dancing on the weekends. George wanted to up the ante and suggested that if things got heated up, I could go outside with the Lothario to "cool off." He allowed that it'd be private out there and he could follow to make sure I didn't get forced to do anything I didn't want to. I wasn't too sure about it, but he reminded me that I had veto power when we went in.

Well it did work out despite my misgivings. At the very first neighborhood bar, George got his wish to see me pump a bare dick. As per our plan, George went in first and took a seat in the shadows at the far end of the bar. I had a hard time spotting him when I came in a few minutes later. I sat at the bar and ordered. We decided that I should order my drinks myself to avoid the bartender figuring out what we were up to like Mike had.

The bartender was a woman. "What'll you have?" she questioned as I walked up.

"Give me a virgin Piña Colada."

"Sorry we don't have all the ingredients for that. I could get you a virgin Cuba Libre. If all you want is a drink with no alcohol that looks like a real drink."

"Thanks I want to do some dancing, but want to keep my wits about me. A virgin Cuba Libre will do nicely."

She brought the drink and said, "Here you go. I totally sympathize with you. Have fun."

"Say," I said, "if anyone orders a drink for me, no matter what they say or I say, make a virgin drink. OK?"

"Sure thing honey. Us girls have got to stick together."

I danced with a couple of guys, and accepted drinks from them and was careful not to let my drink sit unattended. About an hour in, a guy made his move and began getting fresh. By now I was an old hand at this and it didn't worry me at all. Besides I had George in line of sight the whole time. He started on the dance floor and did just about everything you could do while still on the dance floor. Then he wanted to have me join him at a booth. Luckily, the booth in question was near the bar and George could monitor the action without moving. This gave me confidence.

When George had pulled into the lot, he had pointed out that the place had two entrances. One from the parking lot and the other on the street. He had gone in the parking lot entrance while I had walked around and entered from the street.

Once in the booth, the guy ordered us another round and fondled me lightly as we waited for our drinks. He had his hand on my leg and stroked it on the inside of my thigh. I have to admit with George only fifteen feet away the whole thing was turning me on. Once the drinks arrived, he began in earnest to get his hand inside my clothing. He pulled me into a kiss as he slipped a hand up under my knit top to clutch my boob through my microthin nylon bra. He took his other hand and pulled my hand to his crotch.

I looked over at George and he had move around the corner and had his back to the dance floor and now could watch us from the corner of his eye without being obvious. Not that my friend would have noticed anyway, he had his lips on my neck nibbling at my collar bone. I grip his erection lightly and stroked it a bit. His free and went up my skirt, straight to my panties and massaged my crotch gently. We hardly touched our drinks.

George caught my eye and picked up his napkin and fanned himself then nodded toward the back entrance. I took the hint.

"Is it just me or is it getting warm in here?" I asked.

"I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hot. Wanna get some fresh air?" he asked.

I nodded and we slid out of the booth. As we got up, George stood and headed for the front entrance. My friend and I sauntered slowly down the hall, stopping for a lingering kiss on the way. I wanted to make sure that George had time to get around the building.

As I went out the door, I heard the double chirp of a car alarm being disarmed. Looking toward the sound, I saw the lights flash on my SUV. I grabbed my friend and kissed him, pulling him around so his back was toward the car. Looking over his shoulder, I saw George quickly slip into the back seat while my friend put both hands up under my top and lifted my bra over my boobs. He cupped them and worked my nipples with his thumbs and ground his erection into my crotch.

George had parked the car near the dumpster enclosure, so I had an idea. "You know with the light over the door, we're pretty much on display. Let's go over by the dumpster where the wall casts a shadow."

My friend walked me down the building into the shadows near the dumpster and we began necking. His erection pressed into my crotch again. It was large enough that he had no trouble reaching my glory spot. After a minute, he said, "You know, even better than this, my car's right there," indicating an old black Lincoln Continental parked right next to my SUV. It couldn't have been better. The privacy glass in the SUV combined with the glare from streetlight turned the rear window into a perfect one way mirror while the Lincoln didn't even have tinted glass. George would have a perfect view, if we got into the backseat.

I nodded and he fished in his pocket for the keys. As he unlocked the door, he asked, "Front or back?"

I smiled. "Back, we may need the room."

I got in first and slid across the seat, fully aware that he was likely getting a first class beaver shot as my skirt hiked up, and quite probably George as well. He got in and closed the door. Rather than sit, he put his left knee on the seat and bent in to kiss me. Taking advantage of my hiked up skirt, his hand dropped to my crotch, cupping it firmly. I returned the favor and moaned into his mouth. He pulled back and moaned himself as he settled on the seat on his right hip. He began kissing my neck, trying to reach me cleavage.

I got bold and lifted my top enough for him to suck a nipple. When he did, I nearly passed out. I knew I had to take charge or George would be watching his wife get screwed. I undid his zipper and pulled his cock out and started pumping it as I pulled his face to my breast. I looked in George's direction as I stroked his meat. He only lasted a couple of minutes before he blasted his cum everywhere. I was sure that cum would wipe right off the leather seat, but I wasn't so sure about my skirt.

"Oh dear," I told him. "Now I'll have to go into the ladies and see if I can get that out of my skirt. Why don't you go in and see if you can rescue our drinks."

I opened the door, flooding the interior with light as he struggled to get himself back in his pants as I pulled my bra and top back down. I was sure that George had a good view of the cum running down the seat back. I quickly got out, looked over the top of the car, holding my hand palm out in the classic "Stop" sign and headed for the door of the bar. I stepped into the ladies room and stopped the door from closing all the way by just a crack. Watching through it, I waited until my friend headed back into the bar. As soon as I was sure that he was out of sight, I ducked back outside and ran to the SUV. Not seeing George, I tried the back door. He was inside leaning back trying to breathe evenly and not being too successful.

I climbed in and kissed him. He came to life and grabbed me, kissing back, almost violently. When we stopped, he took a deep breath and blurted out, "He came, he shot cum everywhere. It was all over the back of the seat."

"I know," I told him. "He even got some on my skirt." I lifted the damp spot and he ran his hand over it.

"Did he get any on you?" he asked, lifting my top and sure enough, his fingers found a damp spot and rubbed it into my skin. After a few moments of rubbing, he lifted his hand to his nose and sniffed, then held it out to me. I could see the tips of his fingers were shinny and could only assume it was the cum he wiped off my belly. I sniffed and confirmed that by the smell, then I took his fingers in my mouth, licking them with my tongue.

George moaned and pushed my down on the seat, groping at the waist of my panties with one hand, trying to pull them down, while opening his fly with the other. Frustrated, he stopped, used both hands to hall out a raging hard on and pulled the gusset of my panties aside and skewered me with his throbbing meat. It could have been rape, because if I'd have resisted, it wouldn't have stopped him. But I was in no mood to resist. If he hadn't taken the lead, I would have. I need screwing right then and he needed to screw me. It was a perfect match.

Later that weekend, George and I were talking about the action and how we couldn't have planned it better. It was really good fortune that his car just happened to be parked next to ours.

"God, I couldn't believe it when you guys got into the car next to me."

"I was flabbergasted when he pointed out his car," I told him. "I had intended to give you the show you wanted in the shadows by the dumpster."

"I could see everything. I saw him suck your nipples. I saw him finger you. Oh God, I saw you take his tool out of his pants and stroke it. Then he blasted cum all over the place."

George then got a strange look on his face.

"You know," he said, "what with the way you took care of Dan in the weight room, I'm surprised you didn't finish him off with your mouth. He'd have loved that and it would have saved the mess in his back seat."

I caught a hint of disappointment in his voice. So I decided to test him. "And what about you, you pervert. Would you have like to see your wife swallow cum?"

He blushed. "God, I am a pervert aren't I?"

"So you would like to, huh?"

He shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

I stuck my finger in my mouth and slid it in and out as if I was giving it blow job. He took a deep breath and I took that moment to attack him. I pulled open his robe to find him throbbing, so I went down on him, trying my best to swallow him. I did try, but I just couldn't get by the gag reflex. I don't know how those women porn movies do it. I'm convinced it has to be some camera trick.