It seemed like light years since I left loneliness behind. My pussy was electric and my options were endless. Ed was out of town and I had plenty of naughty thoughts. We were domesticated sex freaks and most marriages weren't like that even if, in the dark recesses of their minds, they wanted to be.
This was the first day Ed was out of town since we'd begun our hotwife hobby. I thought it would be fun to have a wingwoman but being married with friends who were largely couples cut down the possibilities so I had to fly solo.
Even so, I was pumped up for Friday's adventures. I looked in the mirror and my version of man bait and liked what I had constructed. All monochrome; white button down top, ridiculously short black skirt, black choker, black lace bra showing through the top, black lace thigh highs and black heels. I tossed my long hair to one side and over my shoulder.
I looked like the alluring bad girl on an old '50's film noir movie.
I unbuttoned the top so the bra got center stage, then took a selfie and sent it to Ed. There was a quick text back: 'Oooo, babe, you've got some real Bettie Page action there. Going grocery shopping?'
I texted, 'You're partly right, I am going shopping'
'Naughty, naughty, girl.'
'Just the way you like me. Hey, who's Bettie Page?'
***
I went old school, a tiki bar downtown, the places with a paper umbrella in every drink. I had to park in a city lot about two blocks from my destination. It was just a bit on the sleazy side and I probably shouldn't have gone without Ed but I was feeling just naughty enough and curious enough to take it on myself.
As I walked down the sidewalk to the lounge a car pulled up next to me, lowered the window and an older guy leaned out and yelled, "How much?"
I smiled, "Not for sale," and kept walking.
"Well it oughta be," and he drove off.
Apparently I was dressed perfectly for a sleazy tiki bar.
The interior was a lot larger than it looked from the outside. There was a small combo, a dance floor, a very long bar and ample dining. I asked the hostess if there was room at the bar and she said no but had a two top near the dance floor.
A quick survey and you had plenty of guys at the bar, 50 to 60 range, and my entrance was certainly not lost on them. Most of the tables had older couples, the men with dreams of bedding a twenty something like me, while their wives probably wanted to chase me out with sticks.
What I didn't see coming was the car guy who propositioned me. He plopped down next to me.
"C'mon now, let's stop fooling around, how much?"
"Will you get lost? I'm not a whore!"
He jumped up from the table, "Well you oughta be." And he stormed off.
As soon as he left a guy at the bar who'd been studying my entrance came over. "May I?"
He had manors, good looks, salt and pepper hair with a goatee, a goofy Hawaiian shirt, well built and somewhere in his late fifties.
"Be my guest," I said not sounding especially welcoming, "Anything's better than that last asshole."
"Oh, you mean Larry?"
"You know him?"
"Not very well but he hangs around often looking to spend a sliver of his fortune on a prostitute for the night. He seemed to take a keen interest in you. I'm Tony by the way."
"I'm Mara. You mean he has a lot of money? That guy? "
"Yup. I wouldn't have believed it myself but one night at the bar we were talking and he invited me back to his house for drinks and women. Before we left the bar he made a couple of calls and bought two expensive escorts who were waiting for us when we got to his house, well, it was a mansion. I couldn't believe it."
"What did you do?"
"I don't mean to be crude but, in a nutshell, I drank his booze, fucked his girls and went home."
"That's crazy."
"Crazy but true. Are you suddenly reconsidering his offer? Could be a big payday."
"God no! I'm not a whore. Is that what you think?"
"No, not necessarily, but you're dressed to kill and you're here alone. I'm fairly certain that wasn't by accident. There's not a guy in here who doesn't want the company of a sexy, gorgeous girl like you."
"Does that include you?"
"That definitely includes me and right now I can feel the sting of a hundred arrows in the back because I'm sitting here and they're not."
"You seem to have quite the analytical mind."
He laughed, "I better have, I'm a psychologist."
"Ooo, I think that's sexy," I said intimately, "Go ahead then and analyze me."
"Ahhh, this may be a trap but based on five minutes of knowing you I'd say randomly; out looking for adventure, great legs, exhibitionist, somewhat fearless, oversexed..."
I was giggling like mad as he got precariously close to the truth.
"...married but spouse out of town, did I mention oversexed?, too pretty to be in this place,
actually enjoyed being mistaken for a streetwalker. There, how's that?"
"Pretty good, doc."
"One more thing...you're likely before long to come to my apartment a block from here and have a very good time."
"Um, not sure about the last one..."
"You don't want to see my stamp collection?" Tony motioned over to the server, "Jean, dirty martini, please and a Cosmopolitan for the lady?"
"How did you know what to order for me?" I asked with amazement.
"I took a shot. You looked like a Cosmo girl to me. Care to dance?"
"Yes," I found myself saying readily even though I was a marginal dancer. He was smart, engaging and twice my age but age didn't matter to me at the moment. He made it clear he wanted to take me home and my pussy was coming around to the idea.
