**Date night**
The babysitter showed up early as usual. We said our goodbyes to the kids and hopped in the car. You didn’t know where we were going—I kept it as a surprise as normal—but you figured we’d do the regular drinks and dinner and whatnot. Nothing too exciting, you thought, but always good to get out of the house and away from the kids for a bit.
It was nice outside, so the car windows were open as we drove down Cherokee street towards a bar we had been to before. You were wearing a short, navy blue dress with your hair back and glasses on.
The bar was packed, but we found a booth open in the back.
“I have a little something extra planned for tonight,” I told you as we sat down with our beers. You guessed a few things—dinner at the ramen place down the street, a movie—but I didn’t have either of those in mind.
“Here, take this,” I said, pulling a small box out of my back pocket and sliding it across the table. “Go to the bathroom and open it up.”
You looked at me funny, but said okay and headed into the bathroom. You found a stall, closed the door, and sat down.
Inside the box was a small felt pouch with a hand-written note on top. “Put this on and meet me back at the table,” it read.
Setting the note aside, you pulled the draw string on the pouch and opened it up. Inside was a small, horseshoe-shaped purple…thing. Holding it in your hands and inspecting it closer, you weren’t sure exactly what it was, though you had an idea. There was a small card in the pouch with instructions.
“Insert the small end into the vagina, positioning the larger end between the labia and against the clitoris,” it read. In case it wasn’t clear, an illustration showed exactly what it was—a remote controlled vibrator—and where to put it.
Your heart was pounding. You had used a vibrator before and loved it, sure, but this was different. You were in a public place with people everywhere, and you had no control of when it would turn on, how hard it would buzz, or for how long. Those details would be left up to me, your loving but devious husband, who would have no hesitation bringing you to the edge of orgasm in a room full of people, leaving you dripping wet and begging for more. You would have to try and contain the pleasure and not make it obvious to everyone in the room. The idea left you apprehensive, but excited and tingling.
Standing up, you hiked your dress, and pulled down your turquoise panties enough to slide the vibrator in as instructed. You were surprised how wet you were already, and it slid in with little trouble—the larger end resting firmly against your clit. Pressing the power button, you noticed a small green light turn on before pulling your panties back up and over, securing it firmly to your pussy and hiding it from prying eyes.
“I’m guessing you have the remote?” you asked, now back at the table and noticing the strong pressure against your clit as you sat on the hard bench. It felt good already and I hadn’t even turned it on yet. You looked around. There were a lot of people in the bar. Did anyone notice? Was that guy looking at you funny?
“Yep, I sure do,” I replied. “Not really a remote, but it’s controlled via an app on my phone.”
I pulled out my phone and opened the app, showing you the controls. I pressed a small circle in the center of the screen and the vibrator buzzed to life with a slow, mellow vibration against your clit. It was noticeable and felt good, but not strong enough to lose your composure. It made no noise, but your smile made it obvious to me that it was working.
“See, I take this circle,” I said, sliding my finger across the screen, keeping my eyes locked on yours, “and move it this way to increase the strength.” The vibrator responded, and your smile widened and cheeks began to flush. “That’s about 50% strength. How’s it feel?”
“Uhmm…” you mumbled and laughed, crossing your legs and shifting in your seat. “Really good.”
It felt like your normal vibrator at home, but the thrill of doing it in public in front of so many people without them knowing had you especially wet. You could feel your face flush red with heat. It was hard not to moan, holding it in tightly between your lips, but you couldn’t help but let a little, quiet, whimper out.
I stared closely into your eyes as I moved my finger more. The vibrations increased, pulsating from hard to harder in tight, rhythmic beats. One hand now on your forehead, head bowed and eyes closed, you did everything you could to contain the pleasure you were feeling. Time had stopped—the noises from the bar faded away. My finger moved more, increasing the intensity.
It was a good idea, I noticed, to tell you to skip the bra tonight, because your puffy nipples, now hard, were showing through your tight dress. I knew what one pinch with my fingers, or one deep suck with my mouth would do—send you over the edge, rocket you to a strong orgasm, maybe the strongest you’d ever had. But that was impossible of course. We were in a full bar, people everywhere. You looked to the left, a table with three guys in conversation about who knows what, you didn’t really care. The warmth and vibrations radiated outwardly from your pussy and into your ass and legs as you slowly rocked back and forth, pressing your ass harder onto the bench.
Another moan escaped your lips, surprising even yourself, and your mouth tightened closed to keep anything else from coming out. You hit that familiar edge, where orgasm was inevitable if you let it, but were holding back, afraid of how strong, how difficult it would be to hide your reaction from so many people. But you almost didn’t care whether anyone knew or not—this felt so good, almost too good, you wanted to let go and feel the overwhelming waves of orgasm pulse through your body, soaking your panties. Now you were very close to going over that edge. You could make it happen if you wanted, just by letting go. Looking up at me, my eyes still staring directly into yours, you thought of my cock, rock hard but tucked away in my jeans, and wished it was inside of you. This was it, you contemplated one last time whether you should let go.
I pulled my finger off of the circle and closed the app. The vibration stop. You both loved and hated me right now. I saved you from embarrassing yourself in public with a very obvious orgasm, true, but you were so close to letting go, with the vibration now gone you felt empty and lustful for more.
“So here’s what I’m thinking,” I said, putting my phone back into my pocket. “There’s a pub next door. Head over there, sit at the bar, and order a drink. I’ll pay the tab here and follow a few minutes later and sit at the opposite end.”
“Let’s just go to the car. I was so close…”
“Be patient, Sarah. We’ll get there. I promise.”
“So we’re going to sit separately?” you asked. “And not talk to each other?”
“Yes,” I replied, “we don’t know each other anymore. But there are plenty of guys next door who I am sure would love to get to know you.”
“You want me to cheat on you?”
“Easy, tiger. Of course not. Nobody but me will be fucking you at the end of the night. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun with someone else. In fact, here, take off your wedding ring.” I plucked the ring from your finger and put it in my pocket.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” you replied, hesitating, and rubbing the skin around your now bare ring finger. Your pussy was still wet, but the throbs of inevitable orgasm, though still noticeable, had faded.
“Just sit at the bar, show a little cleavage, and when a guy approaches you, talk to him. Flirt a little. You’re not married for the next forty five minutes.”
I could tell you were uncomfortable, but curious—and horny—enough to not dismiss the idea outright. How long had it been since you were single? Would anyone even be interested? Do you even remember how to talk to a random guy? What does Jason want me to do with some other guy? What about this warm, wet vibrator hugging my pussy that he can turn on at any moment? As these questions and doubts rattled around in your head, I leaned over the table, gave you a deep, intense kiss, and pulled back.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t be far away.”
—
Fortunately the pub was only a few doors down because it was, to your surprise, dark outside when you left previous bar. Now that you were up and moving around, you felt tipsier than you thought. You weren’t quite sure how I had talked you into this whole thing, but there was enough beer and hormones in your system to have the courage to open the door and walk in.
Maybe it was because the sun had set but it felt uncomfortably dark inside. Deep green shaded sconces lined the walls, giving off almost no light. A few beer neons buzzed away. Your eyes, adjusting to the lack of light, were drawn to the bar—long and wooden with dozens of beer taps and a bright mirror displaying row after row of every liquor imaginable. The place reminded you of your honeymoon in Ireland—a respectable approximation of a Dublin pub, at least by Chicago standards. Instead of an Irish fiddler or folk band, though, a touchscreen jukebox played pop music overhead, but didn’t fully drowned out the sound of a brightly lit pinball machine clanking away in the back corner, almost out of sight.
Where to sit? This place was packed too. Every ornate, wooden booth and table was filled with people—mostly around your age, it seemed. You hadn’t considered—oh shit!—what would happen if you saw someone you knew? You didn’t have that problem in Virginia. Nothing would happen, you reminded yourself—nobody had to know what was going on or what was lodged firmly between your thighs. Play it cool if you have to. Besides, it was dark enough here to make it hard to identify anyone from afar.
You found a spot at the far end of the bar and sat down, ordering a beer from the bartender. Remembering what I said about showing some cleavage, you caught yourself in the mirror behind the rows of liquor and perked up to see what you were showing. Not much. You hiked your tits up and pulled your front down, revealing as much as possible without being completely inappropriate or slipping a nip. You could feel yourself blushing, feeling a little stupid. You never were one for overtly flirting, and didn’t make a habit of showing off your body to strangers on purpose.
The bartender returned with your pint, setting it down on the bar with a thud.
“Thanks,” you said, taking a sip before leaning over to get your debit card. You could feel his eyes on you as you dug through your purse. It wasn’t the first time you could feel a man’s eyes on you, of course, but you were surprised how good it felt to do it with purpose. Not in a sensual way, I guess, but more of a feminine way—you had tits and they looked good. Why not show them off a little? Maybe you’d get some free drinks. Jason would like that.
“Start a tab?” the bartender asked, averting his eyes quickly as you looked up.
“Yes!” you said, a little too loud and enthusiastically, with a crack in your voice. You were startled by the sudden vibrations, slow and methodical, now rolling outwardly from your pussy and through your body, and knew I had made my way to the pub as well, though you hadn’t seen me come in or noticed where I sat. “Yes, thanks,” you repeated, now more calm and smiling, and handed over your card.
Even though it felt like the vibrator was at its lowest setting, your body picked up almost where it left off a few minutes ago in the previous bar. You weren’t exactly close to orgasm, but fuck it felt good—much better than when it first started earlier—and you took another sip of your beer, closed your eyes, and pressed your ass into the seat, taking control and increasing the pressure on your own as much as you could. Feeling like you could push yourself close to that edge again, you eased back and opened your eyes, trying to relax. If you could just back away from the edge a bit, you thought—find a space safely away from cumming in your panties in public but close enough to feel the sensation like a soft, seducing background noise. There. This felt good. Not too intense—you could carry on a normal conversation—but enough to keep your heart rate up, wet and horny. You could walk around all day like this, you thought. Okay, maybe not. But still.
Catching yourself in the mirror again, you noticed your nipples were hard and obviously showing through the fabric, millimeters below your dress line and barely out of bare site. You looked hot. Where was Jason? Looking around, it took you a while to find me, but I had found a booth in the back corner. With my phone in my hand, I waved in your direction with a smile.
Your phone buzzed and you picked it up off the bar in front of you. It was a text from me.
“Good job upping the slut factor. You look hot”
“Thanks,” you replied.
“How does it feel being single”
“Weird”
A guy tucked himself in between you and the girl at the bar next to you and tried to get the bartenders attention.
“There you go. Your first prey,” I texted.
You laughed at the thought. My prey? It was hard to feel predatory with half your tits showing and a wet pussy. You felt like the one being hunted.
Glancing across the bar through the mirror you could see the guy next to you was tall, maybe taller than Jason, you thought, but it was hard to tell. He wasn’t skinny, but certainly not fat either, and he wore his jeans and green flannel shirt well. His beard was thick and full, but well maintained, and a backwards hat covered a mess of dark brown hair. He was close enough to you to notice his smell—a mixture of laundry softener and beer. It was clear the bartender was ignoring him.
“Did you have this much trouble getting a drink?” he asked. You were surprised to see that he was now turned towards you.
“Uh…” you replied, smiling and looking up, caught off guard and not answering his question.
“Doesn’t matter. Jesus, that’s a big purse!” he replied, looking down at your bag. “Are you going to the airport after this?”
“No!” you laughed. “I know, it’s ridiculous.”
You had almost forgotten the vibrator buzzing away in your panties, but were made aware once again as the intensity increased slightly. You cleared your throat.
“If you need a ride there,” he joked, “UberX is pretty cheap.”
“Yeah, we took one here,” you replied, laughing, and forgetting that the ‘we’ in your story is your husband who is not your husband right now.
“Who’s ‘we’?” he asked. “You here with a friend?”
“Oh… yeah,” you lied. “She’s, uh, I’m not sure where she is actually.”
“Do you want to try an experiment?” he asked, ignoring your answer entirely.
“Sure?” you replied, shifting in your seat. You couldn’t tell if the vibrations were stronger or not, but it didn’t matter. Earlier you were brought to the edge of orgasm in a bar sitting with your husband, but this was different. You were trying to hold a conversation with a guy you just met, standing close enough to smell him. “Sure, sure,” you continued.
“Great. I’m going to ask you a few questions to get to know you, to understand who you are and where you are in life, and I want you to give me as much detail in your answers as possible. Don’t hold back.”
“Okay…” you said apprehensively.
“Picture a simple landscape in your head. Picture the sky, the horizon, and the desert below.”
You closed your eyes, feeling more comfortable, and began to paint a picture in your head.
“Don’t close your eyes!” he joked, touching your shoulder softly. “That’s weird. Keep them open.”
You opened your eyes and looked up at him, laughing, shifting in your seat again. “Okay, a landscape. Got it.”
“Now insert a cube into your landscape.”
“A cube?” you asked. “Like a box?”
“Yes, like a box. Where did you put it? How big is it? What’s it made of?”
This is ridiculous, you thought, but thought of a box anyway.
“It’s, uh, pretty small. Floating in the sky, just above the horizon.”
“And what’s it made out of?”
“Cardboard,” you replied quickly.
“Perfect. A small cardboard box in the sky.”
You laughed.
He continued. “Okay, now put some flowers in the picture.”
“Hmm… I see roses. Two big roses.” You found yourself having fun now, and the answers were coming easy, though you didn’t know what they had to do with anything.
“And now I want you to picture a horse,” he said.
“I hate horses,” you laughed. “But fine. It’s a big horse with a long mane. It’s strong and running in circles, fast.”
“Good. I hate horses too. Now, there’s a storm coming. Tell me about it.”
This time you closed your eyes but didn’t picture a storm. Instead, you pictured me, sitting at the table in the corner, watching you flirt with this guy while running my finger along the smooth surface of my phone and increasing the intensity of the vibrator deep in your pussy. You were able to hold your composure before, but it was strong enough now that you weren’t as confident. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing. Your chest was tingling with excitement and your stomach felt light, like you were nearing the apex of a roller coaster, about to plunge over the edge. Time was slowing down again. How long had you been sitting here quietly with your eyes closed, trying to control your body, trying to keep from moaning with pleasure? It felt like minutes, but hoped it was only a few seconds. You were scared to open your eyes, knowing this guy—you didn’t even know his name, didn’t even care—was towering above you, looking, wondering what you were thinking. Could he tell? You could smell his flannel shirt—a familiar, warm smell. You opened your eyes and reached your hand out, grabbing his arm without thinking, steadying yourself, feeling the heat of his body, his flannel soft to the touch, his arm strong like an oak.
“It’s, um, windy,” you stammered, opening your eyes and taking your hand off of his arm. “Black clouds, moving fast. Lots of lightning.”
Don’t fucking stop, you thought to yourself, worried I was about to shut it off and leave you empty once again. So close. So very, fucking, close. You wanted to let go. But you knew it would be impossible to hide the intensity of the orgasm you were now on the very edge of, so you backed off again, straightening your back, squeezing your legs, stuffing some of that pleasure far away in the back of your mind, trying to dull the senses without ridding your body of it entirely. You wanted to keep going, to feel yourself plunge over that edge and into ecstasy, but not like this, not yet anyway.
“You said your cube was small,” he continued, bringing you back into the image he created in your mind. “This represents your ego. You’re a selfless person. You like to help others. But you also said it was made of cardboard, impossible to see through. This means you keep yourself closed off from others. In fact, I bet you don’t normally open up to strangers like you have with me tonight.”
You nodded, surprised at the accuracy.
“Next, the flowers. I am guessing you want a few kids later in life, but they were roses—sharp. You are a little worried about how much they’ll change you.”
Nodding again, you were even more surprised at what he knew about you from your answers, but happy he pegged you young enough to not already be a mother of two. The vibrations stopped suddenly, leaving you empty, slightly, relieved, but with a knot of kinky energy pent-up inside. With the vibrations over, you could now feel the wetness of yourself on your panties, warm and sticky.
“The horse,” he continued on, laughing. “You’re attracted to strong, dominant men. And the storm, wow, it’s all very intense. You’ve been through some shit in your life haven’t you?”
But before you could answer he continued. “You know what, you need a little fun. Follow me.”
You hesitated. “I’m not sure,” you said. “Look, this was fun, but I’m married. My husband is actually just sitting right over there,” you said, sensing his frustration and turning to the back corner of the pub. But I wasn’t there. You checked your phone.
“Meet me in the alley behind the pub,” my text read.
“Look, I have to go,” you told the guy, picking up your stuff and putting it in your purse. “I’m really sorry.”
Stepping on to the street, you looked around. Not the most welcoming place to be at nighttime. Didn’t people get shot around here? Raped? Fuck, why the fuck does he want me out here, going into alleyways? What the fuck. You could feel yourself pissed off and panicking, in a heightened state of mixed emotions, the positive bleeding into negative. It wasn’t cold outside, but you were shaking. You didn’t have any car keys, otherwise you would go there. Instead you headed for the rear of the pub looking for me.
“Hey there sweet tits,” an old guy with a yellow beard leaning against the brick wall said to you, puffing away on a cigarette.
Right, your tits. You had forgotten they were practically hanging out. You pulled your dress up and increased your pace, ignoring him, wishing you were somewhere else.
“Where you going? Don’t be scared!” he yelled, laughing.
You rounded the corner quickly and saw the alleyway leading behind the building. “Where are you” you tapped out on your phone while peaking into the darkness of the alley. You thought you saw the the bartender dumping a bag of garbage into a dumpster, but he was too far away to be sure. It’s fine, you thought. Stop being afraid of everything. Deep breath.
Down the alley you continued, heels clanking on the ground below, echoing against the unlit back wall of the building as you headed towards where you saw the bartender, clutching your purse tight against your body. Your phone buzzed. Reaching in to grab it, you didn’t stop or even slow your pace, and looking down you saw it wasn’t a text from me, but an alert from the NY Times, something about Trump.
“Don’t fucking move.” The voice echoed loudly, like a bullet into your left ear, and your heart dropped. An arm grabbed around your waste, a hand covered your mouth. Your feet were off the ground, your helpless body being carried back behind a dumpster and into the dark. You tried to scream, but nothing came out, his hands sweaty and salty against your mouth, blocking any noise from escaping.
“Shut the fuck up,” he said, this time quieter, his breath hot against your ear. Panicking, you tried to push and pull your way out of his grip, but he held your arms tight against your body. He came to a rest against the brick wall deep in the shadows of the alley, your back against his chest, body heaving with fear.
He whispered closely in your ear now. “I am going to uncover your mouth, and you’re not going to say a fucking word. Nod if you understand.”
You nodded.
He took his hand off your mouth, and reached into his pocket. Almost immediately, the vibrator in your panties sprang to life.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he continued. “I am going to let go of you, and you’re going to turn around, get down on your knees, and you’re going to take my cock in your mouth. You’re going to deep throat it until you choke. You’re going to spit on it and suck it and worship it with your tongue like the little slut you are. As much as I would love to cum all over your pretty face, instead I’m going to bend you over, lift up your dress, rip off your cute little panties off, and bury my cock deep into your cunt. Do you understand?”
You nodded again, pussy wet from the vibrations, from the fear, from what you knew was about to happen.
“Now turn around and get on your knees,” he said.
You turned and did as instructed. Now on your knees, you felt around the front of his pants and found his belt and unhooked it, recognizing the familiar jingle it made as it released. Looking up, you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his zipper down. His cock was pressed stiff against his boxers, begging to escape into your warm mouth. Your knees rubbed raw on the concrete below as you pulled his dick out into the warm, humid air. It was thick but soft, and it bounced with life as it pumped stronger with lust, increasing in size and hardness. He grabbed the back of your hair tight and pressed your face closer. You opened your mouth and took him in, now fully erect, and he moaned quietly with pleasure as you pressed your tongue against him, enveloping your wet mouth around his cock. His hand returned to his pocket and the vibrations increased. You responded with a moan of your own, and he grabbed the back of your head now with both hands, moving his hips back and forth, fucking your mouth slowly. The pleasure between your legs was intense, the little purple vibrator pounding away on your clit as you knelt down in the dark corner of an ally, his throbbing cock pressed against the back of your throat.
“Are you finally ready to cum, my little slut?” he asked.
Yes, please, let me cum, you thought, but couldn’t say anything, so you moaned again. You had been so close to orgasm at least twice tonight, the pressure building and building and now—with his cock sliding in and out of your mouth—you wanted to let go, to feel the release. The tingle started at your knees, relieving the pain from the tough concrete, and worked wildly up your thighs and fluttered into your pussy, where the first explosion of pleasure reverberated out from, and up it traveled, through your stomach and chest like shockwaves, releasing itself from your body and into the night air as a long, muted, moan that vibrated around his cock. A powerful, wet warmth spread outwardly from your clit and soaked your panties as the second wave of orgasm buckled and twitched your upper body in half. You had stopped sucking his cock at this point, unable to concentrate, but left it resting in your mouth as your insides rolled and waved with the overwhelming release of pleasure that had built up for so long.
“Fuck me,” you said, removing his cock from your mouth. “I want you inside of me.”
He spun you around quickly, still on your knees, and pushed you forward, your hands resting on the concrete. Now on his knees and hovering above you, he lifted your dress over your ass and took a handful of your panties, ripping them apart with a sharp tug, revealing your wet pussy to the open air. Both your panties—now ripped and unwearable—and the vibrator fell to the ground, still buzzing. You arched your back, lowering your head to the concrete while raising your ass closer to him. He ran his hard cock along the length of your pussy, spreading your lips in a circular motion with the head before plunging it deep inside, filling you with the warmth you begged for. You felt his arm reach around and pull your dress down, exposing your tits, which he grabbed hard, pulling and twisting your nipples. Grabbing your hair from the back, he pounded away from behind, sliding in and out with increasing speed and strength. You could feel the pressure building from within once again as a third aftershock of orgasm passed through your body, your pussy clenching around his cock, gripping and releasing with each thrust.
“Cum inside of me,” you begged. “Faster, fuck me faster. Don’t stop.” He let go of your hair and grabbed your hips, pulling your ass back onto his body with strong, low thrusts, deeper and deeper into your pussy.
“Harder,” you screamed. “Cum in my pussy. Do it…please.” Now deep inside of you, as deep as what felt possible, he paused for a split second, and you could feel his cock waiting—pulsating—in anticipation. One final thrust sent him over the edge, releasing his hot, sticky cum deep into your pussy. He groaned loudly, slowing his pace, but staying deep, rolling his hips, and continuing, in and out, as his cum pumped more and more, filling your pussy until it seeped out and around his cock, down his balls, and onto the ground below.
You collapsed to the ground, spent. Your arms and legs were like jello, heavy and hard to move. So you just laid there. I fell to your side laying an arm over your body and holding you close.
“So was this a fun date night?” I asked, smiling. “We better get out of here. Don’t want to keep the babysitter up too late.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/58dy3d/i_write_stories_to_my_wife_about_her_and_me_this
Whew! Very, very good. Reminds me of my man. Thank you.