So after many years of marriage and the inevitable waning of those early days of unbridled passion and lust, I sat down with my husband, Stuart, and told him that I wanted, no… needed, something to rekindle that fire. Even when you have steak every night, you finally want the taste of something new to rejuvenate the energy in your tastebuds. Variety was to be that spice.
After a remarkably candid discussion over a couple of glasses of wine, we both agreed that we should capitalize on my passion for sucking cock. While we agreed that we needed a new catalyst to break the chain of tedium that was consuming our lust for each other, the issue was how. After some considerable discussion, we came to an agreement on a plan. With some degree of uncertainty and some hesitancy we set about to put that plan into motion.
We selected a Wednesday evening to try the plan out. We chose Wednesday because it was Ladies’ Night at a nightclub that was known for its dynamic social scene with lots of both singles and couples. It had a relatively sophisticated, upper scale clientele, a dance floor and a softly lighted atmosphere that was safe and conducive to meeting strangers. It was close enough to be convenient but far enough way to be nearly certain that we would not see any neighbors. The crowd was considerably younger than me but I don’t really look my age and it didn’t hurt that the lights were low.
I picked out my slinkiest dress. It was black and very low cut and I pushed the envelope by wearing an open cup bra so that my nipples would jut out noticeably. I may be older but my husband says I have tits better than most 30 year olds. I put on a garter belt and a pair of black back-seamed hose. I debated seriously with myself about panties; go without or with, and finally put on a pair of black thong ones. I worked hard on makeup as I usually don’t wear much. God gave me great tits but he shorted me on eyelashes so I did the best I could with the little I have and put on a blue eyeshadow. I put on way more blush than I would normally wear and a fire-engine red lipstick along with a coat of lip gloss. Add some long dangling earrings and we are ready to roll.
Stuart was already in the car as I left the house. He told me repeatedly how great I looked and there seemed to be a real chance that we would never make it out of the driveway but rather end up on the living room floor. But we collected our mutual courage and drove off. It is about a 30 min drive to the club and along the way we questioned each other about our commitment to the plan. We agreed that should either of us lose our nerve at any point that we would fold our hand and head home without any negative feelings. I felt safe in knowing that.
We arrived at the club and walked in the door. It was exactly as we expected. A modest crowd compared to the weekend but still a good sized group of people. I spotted two adjacent seats at the bar and headed towards them. I felt the bar gave us the very best view of the dance floor and the crowd in general. We sat down and I ordered a glass of champagne and my husband had his favorite cocktail, a Rusty Nail.
My husband leaned over and brushed intentionally against my now hard nipples. He whispered in my ear,
“Are you sure about this? Remember you can pull the plug at any time.”
I took a sip of champagne and looked at him and nodded and then excused myself to the ladies room. When I returned in a few minutes, his glass was empty and he was gone. I knew he had gone out to the car as we planned.
I swiveled around on my bar stool. I took special care to ensure that my tits were tantalizingly visible as I began to evaluate the field. I was really looking for a handsome, refined, middle-aged man to set as my target. There were maybe 3 or 4 whom I immediately noticed as preferential candidates. After sipping more of my champagne, I noticed that one of them was watching me, no staring at me. I raised my glass towards him and in a flash he was headed to sit next to me.
He took the empty barstool that Stuart had been sitting in and introduced himself.
“Hi. I’m George and you are…?”
“I’m Phyllis.” It’s my real name and we thought it would be easier than trying to work with a fake name.
George and I exchanged pleasantries and some typical opening chat. I noticed that he was unable to take his eyes off my nipples for more than a few seconds, catching himself gawking at them. I chuckled to myself about how predictable men are.
A slow song came up from the DJ and George asked me to dance. We strolled onto the dance floor and he pulled me close, his hand immediately moving to my ass. We danced for a few minutes headed back to the bar. He sat down but I stood next to him and whispered softly in his ear,
“I want to suck your dick.”
He pulled back slightly for a moment and looked at me somewhat quizzically as if to say “I’m sorry did you say you wanted to suck my dick?”
I looked him in the eye and said, “You didn’t understand the question?” and smiled as sexily as I knew how.
He was taken aback just a bit and finally stammered out,
“Sure. Absolutely. Now?”
I reached over to the bar, grabbed my champagne glass and guzzled down the last bit. Turning around, I grabbed his hand and said “Yes, NOW”
He followed me lead out of the club and into the parking lot where Stuart was not-so-patiently waiting in the car. His anxiety level was peaked out as was his nervous anticipation.
On the way to the car, I hung onto George’s arm and told him that my husband wanted to watch and was he okay with that. He unhesitatingly nodded his head as he put his arm around my waist and we continued to the car.
George and I got in the back seat. Stuart sat silently in the front seat. He started the car to turn on the air-conditioning and maneuvered himself and the rearview mirror to maximize his view of us.
I turned to George and he started to kiss me. He instantly went for my tits, grabbing them and pulling on my hard nipples. I pushed back.
“No. You just need to let me take care of this. Relax. Enjoy. But no fondling. I am the giver and you are the receiver. Period. Understand?”
“I understand”
With that arrangement in place, I set about my business. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt while I rubbed his dick through his pants. It was already stiff in anticipation. I had wanted to suck it from soft to hard but, in retrospect, that wasn’t a realistic expectation.
I then unfastened his pants and pulled the zipper down. Beneath the pants, he was wearing a pair of boxer-type briefs that were tight fitting with a pouch for his dick and balls. It clung tightly to his balls and cock and he filled out the pouch nicely. I shoved his pants to his ankles and then reached up and yanked his briefs down to his knees. His cock wasn’t huge but it was more than what I would consider average in length and had a proportional girth. It was the mouthful that I was hoping for.