There’s a club I crash with my circle of girlfriends once a month or so when we’re feeling in the mood to dance and be in a super-high-energy place with an eclectic mix of people. We know a lot of the regulars, but there is always a good crowd of randos from completely unpredictable walks of life, and sometimes, that’s half the fun.
I’d chatted a few times with this group of guys who seemed to pop up at the bar when we’d come around to freshen up our drinks. Just small talk, but they were lively, charismatic, good at making me laugh. One of them complemented my outfit, though I was just wearing a black crop top [that looked a lot like this](https://us.shein.com/Criss-Cross-Tie-Back-Crop-Top-p-2623022-cat-2223.html) and some tight jeans. When my bestie, Lia, got sidetracked chatting up a really cute guy who was also probably the most boring, self-absorbed person on Earth, I slipped off to the bar alone, fully intending to waste as much time as I could.
Just my luck! One of them was by himself having a drink, so I sat next to him and we chatted for a bit. His name was Jack, a lot older than me (he later told me he was 48, I was and still am 21). Not exactly the age I typically go for, but the more we talked, the more I wanted to keep talking. He made me feel really relaxed and I just liked the sound of his voice, to be honest. It didn’t hurt that he was really handsome. Probably around 5’10 or so, athletic, thick black hair that was just starting to show a bit of gray, blue eyes, clean cut, just really sharp looking. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d turned out to be a high-powered lawyer or something.
After a bit, one of his friends showed up and announced that they’d snagged the “perfect” table. Jack asked if I wanted to join, but in a way that really didn’t *ask*. It was said almost rhetorically, as in, *of course* I was going to. I wasn’t too sure, though. I’d had fun chatting, but that didn’t mean I wanted to sit with this group of 30 or 40-something dudes. He asked if my drink was finished (it obviously was).
“C’mon,” he said, “we’ll order you another at our table.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me along in a way that felt a lot like a rhetorical question. *Of course* I was going to follow him. I was honestly caught off guard when he did that, but went along because I didn’t want to make things awkward. I wound up being sandwiched between Jack and his friend, Daryl, in a circular booth, with Lars sitting far enough around the circle that I’m face to face with him across the table. Daryl seemed maybe a bit younger than Jack, early 40s. Lars was in his 30s.
I felt a little weird and uneasy at first, but they soon had me laughing and feeling relaxed and very entertained with the way they were joking around and bantering with each other. An hour later, I was ordering my second drink and had no interest in going back to see Lia. She was still chatting with the cute, but hopelessly shallow boy.
Another interesting development was that Jack’s hand was on my thigh. He’d put it there a couple of times and I’d politely picked his hand up and playfully sat it down in his own lap both times. This time, I let him keep it there. Couldn’t explain it, but a lot of it had to do with confidence. It was almost like he seemed so sure of it, I’d finally decided he must be right, and I started to feel okay with it. Admittedly, it was really flattering and gratifying to my ego to get attention from an older guy who seemed to be so “together.” The fact that he wasn’t taking my “no” for an answer somehow made it more intoxicating. It also helped that he had a very soothing, easy way about him. He’d made me feel safe and at ease, somehow, despite the unexpected advances.
When Lia texted that she was ready to take off, I told Jack I’d had fun, but that it was time for me to get going. He squeezed my thigh and told me that I should leave with him instead. He said he could tell I was having a lot of fun (he wasn’t wrong) that he was too, and that we should just keep on doing what we were doing.
Another major snag? The wedding ring on his finger.
All three of them were married, in fact. I’d asked about his wife the second time he’d put his hand on my thigh and I asked him again at this point.
He told me the same thing he’d said earlier: “I love her, but she isn’t here.” And then he added, “Not everything is about sex, right?”
“This isn’t about sex?” I asked him, squeezing the hand he had on my thigh.
“It feels right to me, does it to you?”
“It feels nice, yeah, or I would have moved your hand away again.”
I kept my hand on top of his.
“So…something harmless that feels nice, does it have to mean anything more than that?”
I texted Lia that I was going to ride with some new friends. She replied that I should come see her first. We went back and forth in text for a while until I finally convinced her to leave me be. On her way out, she stopped and said hello to all three of them and goodnight to me, giving me a very judgmental/concerned look.
Things escalated as last call approached. Daryl was taking every opportunity to touch my hand, shoulder, forearm, knee, etc., occasionally punctuating his words with a little tap, both of us knowing what he was doing. I have to admit, I was eating up the attention and though I knew I should put the brakes on it, deep down, I wanted to keep it going. I loved how into me they all were.
Finally, his hand had come to rest on my left knee, and after I let him keep it there for maybe a minute, he’d moved higher up. Past that, he’d kept his hand on my left thigh just as much as Jack had his on my right. I periodically put one of my hands on top of one of theirs, sometimes both at the same time, each of them periodically squeezing me, patting me, or rubbing me. When Daryl first slid up my thigh, I teased that he was being a tad forward for a married guy. He said something along the lines of these work trips being something the three of them kept sacred, and asked if I blamed him for wanting “a new adventure,” and if Jack was the only one allowed to flirt with me.
This whole time, Lars had been very chatty with me and we’d had a very friendly, but also somewhat flirty vibe going on. I could tell he felt left out. When Jack and Daryl went to close out, I walked to the SUV with him, holding his hand. As crazy as all of this might sound, we’d all managed to keep a friendly, playful vibe this whole time, as if the flirting was just a little game or just something fun to keep things interesting. It might be hard to imagine, but it didn’t actually feel like it was necessarily going anywhere. We were all having a lot of fun, I was legit enjoying the energy and the conversation, and we’d said we were going to “keep the party going.” I felt comfortable with them, and as I said, I was enjoying the attention. I sat shotgun and we talked for a couple of minutes while we waited on his friends. At one point, he told me I was pretty and used it as an excuse to touch my face. I’d felt myself smile reflexively and thanked him.
They’d driven a couple of hours from out of town and were staying at an AirBnB. It took us about 15 minutes to get there, and by the time we pulled up, Lars had his hand on my thigh, and I was showing my approval with mine on top of his.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/pl973p/i_f_went_home_with_3_older_guys_and_fucked_all_3
Hott
I look forward to more. Like the build up.