Eric and I so seldom got a ânight out on the townâ that it seemed a stroke of luck when he was sent to San Antonio on an overnight stay. I had a good customer there and easily made my own âbusiness tripâ too, giving us a night away from home... away from our routine.
We stopped at a little road house just outside the city. Guaranteeing our room beforehand made it possible to slow down and take our time getting to the hotel.
The bar was dark and smoky, and the bass thump of the music could be felt as we walked in. It was strangely crowded for a Thursday night and we both wondered at why that might be until someone stepped up on stage and began talking. As he spoke, inciting the crowd to cheer, clap, hoot and holler, it became clear that the reason for tonightâs crowd was that it was âWet T-shirtâ night.
We looked at each other and chuckled... so much for our plan of finding a quiet little corner to sit and have a drink. Eric slipped his hand into mine and asked me if I wanted to leave. With a wink and a smile I answered, "Well, I think it might be kind of fun to watch, what do you think?â
He looked at me, a little surprised. This was his rather conservative Lisa... and he was NOT hearing what he had expected. Eric shifted in his seat, and I knew him well enough to know his cock was swelling against his jeans at the thought of scantily clad young women in wet T-shirts
I had just finished a very enlightening book about couples our age, and how they grew apart with time. I certainly did NOT want to end up as some of them had, but I certainly saw a pattern in the way we spent too much time at our careers and the house. So, I paid close attention at what the couples who wanted to re-ignite their passion had done... and in reading I found several things to be very exciting, and possible to see us doing together. Several of the couples had mentioned doing something âdaringâ and not what would normally be expected... and even one or two had managed this in public (of course, safely... but... still, in public).
The idea to stay here and watch came to me suddenly, and as the music began, I was a little taken aback at how erotic of an idea I found it... not only for Eric, but for me.
Soon, a half-dozen or so girls moved up onto the stage and a couple of guys were selected to pour pitchers of water over them. I slipped a hand under the table and pushed it between his thighs, whispering, âI bet you wish weâd gotten here earlier so you could be one of those guys, hmm?â
The young women squealed and wriggled, their breasts clearly visible against the clingy thin material. Both of us stared, seeing the prominent nipples prominently and the wonderful way that breasts have of jiggling as the women moved. Then, to the LOUD and enthusiastic clapping and cheering of the crowd, they were voted on. Afterwards, the girls were re-absorbed into the crowd and the cycle began again, and then again. Eric and I gulped our first round of drinks while watching, utterly transfixed. At one point, his hand slid against mine, pressing my palm against the zipper of his jeans and I felt his cock, warm and hard against it. These women were all very normal; these weren't strippers... just women you might see every day. Somehow seeing these normal, natural women just made the whole thing much more erotic. You could see the enjoyment on their faces as they teased and jiggled for the men in the audience.
The announcer came back on stage and asked for the next group of women. As only four women climbed the stage, he began asking the crowd for one more. Iâm still not sure just where the thought came from, but without thinking further (and before I lost my nerve), I slid out of my chair and stood up and, without a backward glance at Eric... walked up to the stage. The guys standing around the small stage moved to make room, yelling and clapping as they parted around me.
I climbed the short flight of steps at the side, my face flushed and my heart beating SO loud in my ears I really couldnât hear anyone around me. I looked out over the crowd and peered through the bright lights. I could fairly well make out Eric at our table across the room. I also could fairly well see the expression on his face... the utter incredulity and arousal. This was the woman he saw every morning dress in sober business suits and low heels. That expression gave me the courage to continue what I had started. Eric was there, and nothing would happen to me.
Another woman and I stepped briefly behind the stage long enough to whisk off our bras and drop them onto one of the band memberâs amplifier (ignoring cries of, "heyyy, let me have that!" and "No... throw it to ME!"). Returning to the group, I barely heard the guy with the microphone talking to the crowd. I was completely caught up in the energy of the room... the loud music... the group of guys below watching avidly... the women around me, whiffs of beer and perfume in the sluggish breeze of the overhead fans. The entire situation was intoxicating, and I was totally into the moment.
Not finding Eric at our table, I was peering through the crowd in search of him and missed the guys with the pitchers of water until I felt the first splashes. I gasped and immediately became one of the squealing, jiggling women as the cold water (I hadnât even considered it would be COLD) streamed and splashed over us. My nipples contracted instantly, and I felt the chilly T-shirt cling against my entire torso as the water ran; the muscles in my stomach shivering with cold and excitement. But, even more, I felt an instant hot throbbing develop between my thighs. I gasped and as the girl next to me grabbed me around the waist, I held her back... we squealed and laughed along with the rest of them, and I could feel our breasts press, and sway, pulling against the tight cotton material as we moved.
Finally, standing in a row on stage, we were voted on. To my complete and utter surprise, I was third! To the clapping and cheering of the men (and more than a few women, it seemed), I stepped off the stage with the other women. Trembling with cold and excitement, I pushed through the crowd (forgetting my bra until the next morning) in search of Eric.
The entire contest and everything happening on stage made my heart pound and my breath catch in my throat and I was VERY apprehensive at what I was going to find when I reached the table. I felt momentary panic as I saw the table with a handful of money scattered in the center and two untouched drinks next to it. âHe wouldnât really LEAVE, would he?â was my first thought. Then suddenly, Eric stepped out of the edge of the crowd. Instead of walking me back to the booth, his hand curled around my upper arm. Gripping it tightly, he turned sharply on his heel and pulled me out of the bar.
My heart racing, feeling Ericâs fingers digging into my arm, we moved quickly thru the crowd. I was stuttering, trying to say something to him... to try to explain... maybe to apologize for going too far, but he hushed me with a growl and a look I hadnât ever seen and couldnât begin to decipher.