What Happened at Wirthsterne Bar

--

The Birthday Agreement

In the parking lot, in the car, her husband pressed the ignition button to turn off the engine. He turned to her. He paused. Even after careful discussions of boundaries, she could tell this still felt highly risky to both of them. And hot as all fuck. This was also a fine moment to back down, for either of them.

"My love: Are you sure you are ok with this?

"Yes."

"This is the best fiftieth birthday present I could possibly imagine."

She didn't say anything. She already knew it was. She also felt so many nerves that words escaped her at this moment. The truth was this was the most scared she had felt since the night she'd given up her virginity to this same man 35 years ago. And just like that night many decades ago, she was extremely unclear on what was actually going to happen to her tonight.

"You've got your phone on you. I'll be right there the entire time."

"Yes."

"You trust me?"

"Yes."

"Text me the safe word at any moment, and we stop immediately."

"I know."

"I love you so much."

"I'm just going to put these right here for safekeeping, ok?" she said, as she removed her diamond ring and wedding band and slid them into the car ashtray.

"That's probably for the best."

--

At The Bar

The first thing she thought after she sat down, facing the row of bottles at the bar, was that she could not see her husband. That, of course, was the point.

She knew he was already seated in a darkened corner somewhere. She was certain, without having been told his entire plan, that he would be able to see her.

He had walked in first, alone. She had waited five minutes in the car by herself. Applying lipstick. Giving her feet a few extra minutes of freedom before slipping them back into the red-bottomed high heels. Straightening her stockings. Steeling her nerve.

The second thing that she thought, once she had settled into the seat at the bar, was how little of his plan she knew. Almost anything could happen, according to his demand. And for this one night only, really for the next two hours only, she would do everything he demanded.

"Free Use," they called it, this little game of theirs. But they'd never dared to take it this far.

The third thing she thought with a shock was how fucking good that sudden little buzzing in her panties felt. She looked up in shock, catching the bartender's eye just as a wave of pleasure wracked her body, and she tried to disguise her involuntary moan as a greeting.

"UhnngggHelloo?!"

The bartender smiled and looked forgivingly at her. He'd had plenty of experience with semi-inebriated, highly inarticulate people in his life, sitting at his bar. Even this early in the evening. Though she was sober, he must have assumed differently.

"Evening ma'am. What are you having tonight?"

She wisely chose not to blurt out "A Free Use game with my husband controlling a bluetooth-enabled vibrator in my panties from across the room, for his 50th birthday!"

Instead, she went with a more normal answer.

"I'd like an old fashioned. Why don't you choose a nice rye for me? Something I'll love?"

"Great! I've got just the thing," he replied, whirling around to head toward the brown bottles at the far end of the bar.

--

Dirk

A few minutes later, sipping the delicious cocktail, she looked up to her left to see a gorgeous man staring at her, three seats away.

She expected him to look away as she caught him staring, but he did not. In fact, he smiled cockily, got out of his chair, and slowly walked her way.

"I'm Dirk. And you are the most beautiful woman I've seen in a long time."

"Hi Dirk. That's quite a compliment."

"You are quite a woman."

Despite herself, she blushed and looked down. This man was bold.

Suddenly the toy in her panties refocused her thoughts from this man to the pleasure between her legs. A delicious buzzing that lasted five seconds. She looked up briefly with bliss-filled eyes to find Dirk extremely intent on her face.

"What are you drinking?" Dirk asked, even as he raised a muscled forearm to catch the bartender's attention. When the bartender looked his way he declared with a smirk "I'll have what she's having."

She flushed even more and returned his bold gaze. His whole demeanor screamed Alpha.

She tried to remember what year that movie came out, and whether this sexy stranger was too young to have seen it in the theater, and then whether he was making a knowing reference to a woman's orgasm in a public place, or maybe was she just overthinking it?

The bartender returned with Dirk's old fashioned and presented the bottle's label to him. "Ryepocalypse," it was called, and featured the black and white outlines of stylish men in suits, a sort of "Reservoir Dogs" design homage.

She gazed down at his hand as it grasped the glass. Long fingers. She licked her lips. Dirk raised it quickly to his mouth, met her eyes and said "I'm not sure if this will quench the fire or stoke the fire but I am already burning." With that he swallowed half his drink.

"Now: join me in the flames."

She was not sure what he was talking about, but she did as she was told. The sweetness on her tongue and the fire on her throat felt just right. She smiled back at Dirk, her eyes wide pools of liquid.

--

The Free Use game

"Free Use" play was originally her husband's idea, but they both quickly realized that it worked perfectly for how she naturally wanted to be in bed. Tell me exactly what to do and I will deliver everything just so. It was practically her life motto. She was the ultimate people pleaser.

This is why she had been a great student. It's why she kept rising at the office. Every manager she had ever worked for came to depend on her very quickly. She solved their problems. She anticipated their needs. She listened and fixed and went on giving everything that they needed. That's why by the time Friday evening rolled around, she was generally spent. Exhausted. Out of ideas. Not interested in anticipating others' needs.

When her husband wanted sex, the best thing for her was if he just told her exactly what he wanted. The last thing she wanted to do was come up with creative problem-solving solutions in bed. They realized in the early stages of their love life, if he wanted something, he did best by clearly stating his needs. And she did best - she relaxed into the experience best - if she could hear his desire and make it happen.

Their sex life had remained quite vanilla for ten to fifteen years. A slow build-up of comfort. The key realization was learning how to match who they were with what they did in bed.

This principle developed, over time, into kinky games that they enjoyed together. Games that fit their natural modes. Little power exchanges. She liked the submissive role, of course. He grew to like giving her orders. The more clearly he figured what he wanted, the more comfortable it felt to her to relax into giving him pleasure, which ultimately gave her pleasure.

One Free Use game early on meant a Saturday night with her on the couch watching a RomCom she chose on Netflix. But on a night when they played the Free Use game, he could do anything. Her only job was to ignore him and keep doing whatever it was she was already doing. He kneeled on the floor in front of her and licked her pussy throughout the length of the entire movie. She had come twice like this. At the moment of the movie where the protagonists had their first kiss she'd subtly ground her sex into his face to let him know when she was close. Later, at the movie's climax, her husband's relentless mouth and finger fucking did distract her -- and she rode his face to her second orgasm. Her only job as part of the Free Use kink was to pretend to ignore him and keep watching the screen.

Other times, the Free Use game was about his pleasure. They agreed in advance the parameters of when it would start and stop, at a time when the kids were out of the house. When the hour or two game time began, he could simply tell her, whenever he chose, to get down on her knees and suck him. He would use her mouth exactly as he liked. Softly or roughly or varying just as the mood struck him. He would then bring her to her feet and push her against the wall, and fuck her standing up, like a WWII soldier leaving for Europe the next day. Sometimes the Netflix role would reverse, and he would push her mouth down on his cock while he watched a show from a favorite series, basically ignoring her except for when he wanted to grip her hair in his fist to control the rhythm.

They had never played the Free Use game with anyone else involved. But that was exactly what her husband wanted for his fiftieth birthday present. And she wanted to please him, after all.

--

Dirk's Demands

Back in the bar, she looked down at Dirk's hand as he swirled his cocktail, in part to avoid the heat of his gaze. But also, she realized, because this man's hands were incredibly sexy. Nice, evenly trimmed nails. Raised veins. Smooth, tan skin. Slowly stroking the condensation on his glass. She thought about what that hand would feel like sliding along her collarbone, dipping into the front of her blouse. How his fingers might electrify her skin inside her bra. That hand stroking all the way down to pinching her nipples. Those same nipples, from the thought alone, began to stiffen inside her bra.

And then the boldest thing she had ever experienced - from a stranger at a bar - happened. Dirk had not failed to noticed her focus on his hand. So he dipped his middle finger into his cocktail, and then paused there, to catch her eye. When he had her full attention, he lifted his soaking knuckle up to her lips.

"Taste it," he commanded. And so she did.

The spell he cast, as his finger lingered between her lips, lasted up to ten seconds. Her mouth opened a bit greedily and her tongue slipped out like a cat's, to catch the taste of him and his cocktail.

She might have boldly begun to suck enthusiastically on the stranger's finger right here in the bar when a jolt of pleasure in her pussy refocused her mind. She retracted her lips from his finger but exhaled with an audible "oooh" as the buzzing in her panties brought a wave of arousal on top of the heady dizziness she felt.

The stimulation of her clit seemed of a piece with this man's erotic presence. A part of her knew, but also simultaneously forgot, that the buzzing had a different, hidden, provenance. She felt lost in her senses, her eyes unfocused, her breath shallow.

She lifted the rest of her own cocktail to her lips, if only to replace the empty space left by this man's finger. She drank it down to the bottom. Oh fuck she was lost tonight and going to hell for sure.

Without asking permission, Dirk raised his hand to the bartender and gave a quick circle to indicate another round for the both of them. She noticed the bartender hopped to it, as eager to fulfill Dirk request as a courtier for his king. By now she felt the same way. This man was suited to command.

His casual dominance worked well on her. Too, too well. Another drink arrived in a flash.

"Can I say something completely inappropriate?"

With the first old-fashioned having done its job a bit too well, she watched Dirk's lips very closely as he asked. Inappropriate? Yes, that is exactly what she would like to hear at this moment. This moment of rising need.

"Sure," she replied, her eyes widening as much in surprise at his question as her answer. "I'd like that."

Her lips open slightly as she anticipated his next statement. Her head tilted to the side a bit to indicate her eagerness, exposing her neck where her blouse opened in a V.

Dirk leaned in to about six inches from her face and growled "If I don't fuck you tonight I'm going to end up punching a hole in the wall with my cock when I get home."

She looked down at her second old fashioned and began giggling. This man Dirk was utterly absurd. And she wanted him so badly.

What was she even doing tonight? Somewhere in the dark, somewhere unseen by her but clearly watching, was her husband. He clearly could intuit some of what was happening at the bar. Did he know that by drink number two a strange man was propositioning her? Did he know that what she wanted more than anything at this point in the evening was to give in to his proposition?

Well, yes, of course her husband knew at some level what was happening, if not exactly the details. If she was going to hell, then her husband had constructed the doorway there and brought her to the threshold. He'd been playing with fire in setting up this kind of bar scene, and telling her to follow his instructions to the letter. What else did he expect to happen with her sitting by herself at the Wirthsterne bar, a remote control vibrator in her panties?

What she had learned from some of their earlier games was that following her husband's instructions without question was the entire point. When he said what he wanted, extremely clearly, and frankly in a bossy way, she felt a very strong sense of relief. And arousal.

Their Free Use game had worked for her because she loved giving up control. It was a relief to not have to worry where her hands went. Not to wonder what her husband needed. He just told her, and she followed his lead. Soon she could get into that mode by a certain tone he reserved for their game. Command. No ambiguity.

There was no way Dirk could have known this about her. But his tone from the beginning told her he knew about seducing women. With his gravelly voice and with his large hands.

The idea that this handsome man had picked her up tonight, and was now focused on fucking her, made her smile and shake her head.

She had always been cute when she was younger. But as she had aged she became more obviously beautiful. Her clothes got nicer. Her hair more stylish. She developed confidence in her body. She worked out regularly as an adult, in a way she had never exercised as a teen or young married woman.

Interestingly, the attractiveness of the men who showed interest in her kept improving. She considered herself ordinary-looking as a teen and as a young woman and had ordinary-looking boys want to date her. In the last ten years, however, with teenage children and a few lines beside her eyes and plenty of grey in her hair and a bit of gravity pulling on her body, she tended to attract the gaze of everyone. Young and old men, it didn't seem to matter. She was, inevitably, the one who commanded the male gaze in a crowd.

The honest-to-goodness truth about that simple fact -- she was a head-turning stunner when some other women her age had begun to purposefully cultivate invisibility - was a little bit puzzling to her. She believed it, but hardly cared. Usually, it only barely entered her consciousness.

Men besides her husband didn't rate a lot of thought, sexually, because that just wasn't her thing. She would rather be admired than shunned, of course. But sex or fostering an erotic spark with another man just never was going to happen.

Except, tonight, she thought. Despite her years of cultivated indifference, it might. It might happen tonight because her husband wanted it to happen. By his command and the Free Use game.

Then her phone on the bar, facedown, buzzed.

"Sorry, I hope its ok I check this?" she apologized to Dirk.

She lifted the phone and pointed the screen so only she could read it.

*Excuse Yourself From This Man. Tell Him You Are Going To The Restroom On This Floor. Text me when you get inside. I Will Give You Instructions Once You Are Inside the bathroom.*

Oh. She needed to tear herself away from this very hot man. Her husband of course had his plan, and she would follow it, wherever his plan lead.

"Dirk, honestly, this second drink and this conversation has me," she paused to find the right words. "Very worked up. I need to...powder my nose." She giggled, demurely, at the anachronism of her phrase.

She stood up from the bar, slowly. Dirk placed his hand (that hand!) on the top of her hip to steady her rise up. He left it there like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Do you need me to walk you there?" Dirk smiled mischievously.

Just then another buzzing wave of pleasure drove through her. She had partially turned away from his face by then so she allowed her eyes to close as her pussy clenched.

"No. No, thank you. That's nice, I'll be fine to get there."

She looked down at Dirk's hand still lingering on her hip, then back up to his mouth. God, she wanted to climb up onto his lap right here in public on top of the bar and ride those lips until her eyes rolled into the back of her head, the delicate sensibilities of the other good patrons of Wirthsterne be damned.

She realized she did not know what her husband would instruct her to do next, after she left for the bathroom. And the aching need that pulsed from her panties made her say a very reckless thing:

"Come find me in the stalls if I don't come back in 10 minutes. Haha!" She threw back the last swallow of her cocktail, for courage, handed the glass back to Dirk, and walked away without looking back.

--

In The Bathroom

The thing about this hotel where Wirthsterne Bar was located was that it made its own aesthetic and even social choices. At the prices they charged, and the level of service they provided, they could assume an extremely cosmopolitan clientele. Aesthetically, this meant a lot of exposed 19th Century industrial hardware. This gave the lobby a very pre-electrification vibe, very steampunk.

Another one of those quirks was social. From the time the hotel opened, the common bathrooms were made unisex. Starbucks had adopted the same policy in all its stores a few years later. But at the time the hotel and the Wirthsterne bar had first opened, it had been noteworthy.

She pulled open the door to the unisex bathroom. She moved around a corner into the main area, a row of sinks and mirrors on the right, and at least six open stalls on the left. A man in an untucked guayabera shirt hunched over a far sink, scrubbing his hands under the flow of water. She didn't know quite what do to next, so she opened the door to the first stall, walked in, closed the door, and pulled the latch across to lock it.

In keeping with ultra-luxury hotel standards, the stalls in the hotel provided a fully enclosed space. A motion-sensor light in the stall illuminated as she entered. It seemed rather like a soundproof space. Floor to ceiling dark wood paneling. "Ha! Add a bunk bed and a sink and you'd pay $3,200 per month for something the size of this stall in Manhattan or San Francisco," she chuckled to herself.

She texted her husband.

*I'm in stall number one. There's a guy still in the bathroom at the sink.*

Her husband replied by text immediately.

*Push The Stall Door Closed With Your Handbag But Do Not Lock It from the inside.*

Propping her handbag against the door to keep it shut, she ever so slowly unslid the latch. It was like playing that game of Operator, trying to move the metal bolt back without making a scraping sound that would alert the man washing his hands that she'd unlocked the stall.

*Done.*

*Good. Remove the Toy Now.*

With a tiny bit of regret, she reached down to take the soft molded plastic toy from her panties. She placed it in her dress pocket. (Pockets! She loved dress pockets!)

*Ok, done*

*Now Follow My Directions Precisely. You Will Take Your Headband And Place It Over Your Eyes As a Blindfold. From That Point On You Do Not Change Positions Without My Permission. When You Are Ready To Put On Your Blindfold, Text Me "I am ready." Then You Will Put Your Palms Flat On The Wall Facing Away From The Stall Door.*

She breathed in sharply. Where is this going to go? The uncertainty heightened all of her senses. Blindfolded, too? More unknowns. But she was committed to the Free Use ethos. Whatever her husband said tonight, goes. She readied her headband/blindfold.