Some people reading these stories have asked why I would take the risk of having illicit sex at all, much less heighten that risk by playing in public or semi-public places.
Same reason people skydive, folks. Same reason they get in shark cages and hang out with great whites.
It’s a fucking, pardon the pun, rush. If you’ve done it, you know what I mean.
Even so, sometimes I look back at an encounter and think, *I have no idea in* ***hell*** *how I got away with that*.
So, to set the stage (and warning, this is kind of a longer one):
This would have been the late 1990s, or maybe the early 2000s. Dates around the turn of the millennium tend to sort of run together, two decades on, and while my memory’s good, it isn’t photographic where the calendar is concerned.
This was back when Yahoo Chat was the connecting point of choice for a lot of people, me included. In addition to the regular chatrooms — grouped by age, state, that sort of thing — there were user-created chatrooms that were supposedly reserved for grownups.
You could find all sorts of interests in there — some fairly tame, some wayyyyyyy beyond even my adventuresome tastes. There were also user-created regional chatrooms, in which you’d find regulars from the designated area both socializing online and planning meet-ups offline from time to time. People hooked up outside the parties all the time, too; in the main regional room for my area, I had liaisons — either one-time or ongoing — with several regulars.
(This wasn’t counting the meetings from the Yahoo-created state rooms, which also had their own sets of regulars, parties and one-nighters. My total from those rooms ran into the dozens, though I don’t think I’ve ever totaled them all up.)
I digress. Back to the main “adult” regional room, and a small, slim regular in her late 20s, who was married to another guy around my age (mid- to late 30s) — who was ALSO a regular in the room. They were sort of swingers, but he was also kind of possessive about that. He didn’t mind if she slept with other women, and he also didn’t mind if *he* slept with other women, but … you see how that standard goes.
Anyway, flirting back and forth in the room was pretty standard, and nobody really put much stock in it — but one night, a direct message from her popped up. And that led to another, and to more, and before long we were talking dirty on the phone at night. Once, she let me listen in on her and her girlfriend. Can’t lie, the narration and the sounds they made were pretty damn hot.
And of course, we talked about all the things we wanted to do to each other, and the list was long. I wanted to get with her and her girlfriend. She wanted me to fuck her in the ass, and told me exactly how she wanted it. And also of course, you know how even phone sex chat is — it’s all theoretical until something actually happens, which doesn’t always or even overwhelmingly often happen.
Then there was a chat party in my city, and she and her husband came, and they brought along a cute little 20something that he had his eye on. So I went to the party, and we danced a couple of times, and she held my hand on the way to the dance floor the second time, and I started to wonder *What if*.
There was an afterparty at a hotel where the out-of-towners were staying. I got invited along, so I went — still not expecting anything. I figured she and her husband and the 20something would have a threesome and I’d just go home. As territorial as her husband seemed, I figured a foursome was out of the question.
It was — but when her husband was out of the room for a second, she came out on the balcony and kissed me and said I should go out to the parking lot and wait for her. She’d tell her husband she wasn’t thrilled about him being with the other girl, but she’d get out of his way so he could have his fun. Apparently, she knew he’d take her up on that rather than trying to get her to stay.
She came out five minutes later, barefoot, wearing nothing but one of those one-piece cotton tanks that snapped at the crotch. We were standing beside a transport truck, sort of — but not entirely — out of reach of the parking lot lights. She kissed me again, then dropped to her knees and unzipped me.
This was all new to me. I’d had sex in vehicles, yes — but beside one? In not-bad light, in the middle of a decent-sized city?
She took me into her mouth. The pleasure and the adrenaline rush hit at the same time. I was turned on, terrified, and alive as I had ever been in my life, getting my cock worked over by another man’s wife in a parking lot while he was less than fifty yards away.
Something close to animal took over when she looked up at me and pulled a condom out from under her tank. I didn’t need a second hint. I lifted her up, undid the snaps, found her already soaked. She put the condom on me while I fingered her, then bent over and grabbed the fender of the truck.
I slid into her, grabbed her hips and started slowly.
“Harder,” she said. I obliged.
I discovered then that sometimes, when I get in a situation fueled by both lust and fear, it’s hard as fuck to reach orgasm. The greater the fear of being discovered, the harder it is to cum and get the hell out of danger.
From her standpoint, that was probably a good thing. I was pounding her from behind, and it felt great, but it also felt like I could have gone for an hour, by which time we might have been in handcuffs if the wrong person had seen us — or in the ER or worse, if her husband came looking for her.
(More on that later.)
I was pulling her hair, hard, slamming into her for all I was worth, and she had one hand over her mouth to keep from making too much noise. She shuddered, her knees buckling. I held her up; she couldn’t have weighed more than 95 pounds.
Then she looked back and said, “I want you in my ass.”
Thought things were nerve-wracking before? I knew if I went in too hard, she would make a hell of a lot of noise, and not because it felt good. So I had to ease in, every nerve in my head diverted to my ears to listen for anyone coming — and then I was inside her and slowly picking up the pace.
“Hard, like I told you,” she said. “Hard as you can.”
So I grabbed her hair again and pulled her head back, and pounded away. I had done anal before, but just once, and that time had been a lot slower and more careful. She was panting and bucking — and I heard a car door open and then shut, maybe 50 feet away in the parking lot.
Of course I came right then — so hard that I thought I was going to black out, or at least collapse on the blacktop and make a hell of a noise doing it. Somehow, we stayed upright, trying not to make a sound. Then the car started and drove away.
Fortunately, nobody saw us sneak back into the hotel side door. We both cleaned up as best we could in the lobby bathrooms. She kissed me once more, furtively, in the hallway and then went back upstairs.
I found out later that her husband had, in fact, gone looking for her because he decided he wanted a threesome after all. He didn’t find her in the hotel and she made a point to conveniently “forget” and leave her phone in the room. She told him she went for a walk to clear her head because she still wasn’t happy about the other girl, but she was okay with it now and just wanted to shower and sleep after the walk.
So, yeah, it could have ended really badly, but it didn’t. And if he knew, I never knew about it. We were all in the chatroom together, talking shit and flirting and making plans for parties, but we never made it to another party at the same time again.
Would I do it again? Guess I’ll never really know until I know — you know?
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/c2pzer/for_the_night_is_only_mostly_dark_and_full_of
The rush!! That’s the key.
I miss those chat rooms at Yahoo but the Literotica chart rooms were good too.