My name is Michelle; I'm 28 years old. My husband Greg and I had been discussing the possibility of my sleeping with another man. We'd been discussing it for months (and incidentally I was getting a lot of really hot sex from my husband just talking about it) when I finally agreed to go to this notorious pickup joint about 50 miles away.
He talked me into dressing up in a thigh high red miniskirt that I had never had the nerve to wear before, and he even talked me into not wearing underwear. The top wasn't see-through, but so thin that goose bumps showed. The final touch was a pair of five inch red heels.
Just putting this slutty outfit on and knowing that I was going to wear it in front of dozens of horny guys got both of us so excited that we had to relieve our tension in the bedroom by desperately fucking each other before heading out the door.
After cleaning myself up I got in our van and drove by myself to the rundown club. I parked the van at the edge of the parking lot, with woods beyond. Greg had gone in early, to scout the place. A few minutes later he called me on my cell phone and said, "Third table from the corner, facing the bar, if you can get it."
Almost in a daze I walked into the place; the music was loud, with a beat, but because this was a pick up place they were mostly slow numbers. I was so nervous when I walked in, but really excited too.
I saw Greg at the bar, but pretended not to know him. The table he'd mentioned was empty so I sat at it, crossing my legs to show the crowd of men eying me what I had.
The waitress had just taken my order for a drink when the music started. It was a slow number, and an attractive man asked me to dance. We started to dance and after a short time we pressed against each other and I felt his cock rising. It gave me a sexy wanton feeling to rub against this stranger's erection while my husband watched us.
The next dance I had with Greg. I asked him, "Why that particular table Hon?" He answered, "At that table I can see what's going on below the table, but no one else in the bar can unless they're sitting right beside me. You can get as nasty as you want, and your pick-up and I are the only ones who'll know."
The next dance, was with a stranger. I got bolder. I put my hands on his butt and pulled him tight to me. I pressed my breasts to his chest, and rubbed against him. In another place that would have been tacky, but there it was just a little wilder than the action going on around us.
By the time the dance was finished I was wet and sticky and my nipples were hard sensitive knobs. It was a cinch to get him back to my table.
Back at the table, he started to introduce himself. I stopped him and said, looking him straight in the eyes, "We're just two people who have met in a bar, and are going to fuck each other before the night is over, so why don't we just leave it at that."
