In my recollection, it was the hottest day of the summer. It probably wasn't, but as I sat waiting in my car with no air-conditioning, with the sweat beading up on my upper lip and the heat making me dizzy, it sure felt like it. A decent hangover wasn't helping matters, but my nervousness was likely the biggest contributor to my feelings of physical discomfort. My stomach was in knots and it was hard to think clearly, hard to comprehend what exactly I was there for: if he ever showed up, I was going to blow my husband's best friend in a booth at the adult bookstore.
Jay is nothing if not always late, so after half an hour of melting in the heat, I decided to wait inside. I guess lunchtime on a weekday is a pretty busy time for this particular store -- about 7 or 8 guys watched me as I perused the aisles, the heels of my boots clicking loudly on the linoleum. I picked up and put back a few items, my brain still unfocused and fuzzy, but growing conscious of the eyes of those men. I wondered if they knew what I was there for. The idea that they knew both turned me on and scared me, but I let the arousal take over and affect my movements. I bent over, ostensibly to look at something, allowing the back of my dress to ride higher on my thighs. A few minutes later I squatted down to see an item on the bottom shelf, my dress now showing most of my legs as I let my hand dangle between them, dangerously close to my moistening pussy. At that moment my phone buzzed with a text from Jay. He was 5 minutes away and wanted me to go get a booth.
I got my tokens from the cashier, which prompted a few of the men in the store to go into the room with the booths, hopeful, I suppose, that I would choose them. That is something I wanted to do at some point -- pick a random guy at the store and suck the cum out of him without ever exchanging names -- but that wasn't why I was here today. This was a trial run, a practice at being naughty, facilitated by Jay, the best man at my wedding.
The booth was dark and gross, as they tend to be. I put in some tokens and half-heartedly turned through the available movies, but it was hard to pay attention; I could hear the audio from movies the other patrons were watching and people kept walking by and knocking on the door. The nervousness I had felt before had now morphed into some cousin of anxiety, twisting my stomach and making my throat dry. In an effort to block out all the stimulus and calm myself, I replayed in my head the events that had put me in this situation.
A few weeks prior, I had been at a bar close to Jay's apartment, too drunk to drive home. He said I could stay over, but I didn't want to sleep with so much alcohol in my system, so we walked around his neighborhood for an hour or so and just talked. At my request, he told me all the dirty details of the time he got blown by a random woman at the adult theater. I'd heard the story before, but hearing that she had swallowed his load made the dull throbbing between my legs more insistent. Emboldened by the alcohol, encouraged by the tingling in my nipples and the dampness of my panties, I blurted out that I'd be happy to do the same for him, should he ever want to do that again. Look, I know it was fucked up to even say that. He had (and still does have) a lovely girlfriend. I have a wonderful, gorgeous husband who lets me get away with murder. But ever since I'd heard the story the first time, I had been dying to be that woman. I wanted to blow a stranger in a theater. I adore sucking cock and I love the idea of being that slutty, allowing a man I don't even know to use my mouth, letting him fuck my throat until his dick throbs against my tongue and he shoots a wad of salty, starchy semen into me. The thing is though, no matter how appealing it is, that is an accomplishment a girl like me would have to work her way up to. Maybe Jay could be a step on my ladder to utter wantonness.
He laughed it off, clearly flattered by my offer, but caught completely off-guard. We went back to his apartment shortly after, where I slept on the couch and he next to his girlfriend in their bedroom. And apart from being mildly embarrassed at what I'd said, I figured that was the end of it and thought no more about it for the next couple of weeks.
My brother, a friend and I were out at that same bar two weeks later when Jay joined us for a couple of drinks. While my brother and friend were engrossed in conversation, Jay nonchalantly told me he'd like to take me up on my offer, if it was still open. I was floored. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes. I couldn't get the word out quickly enough. It's true that I wanted to work my way up to being a total slut, and it's true that my offer to Jay was an attempt to get started on that, but I would be lying if I said that those were the only reasons I wanted to do this. You see, Jay is sexy as fuck. [I almost left that out because I know he's going to read this, but it's a crucial element of the story.] He's got a handsome face and he's tall and broad-shouldered, but those things pale in comparison to the way he carries himself. The man just gives off the impression that he'd be the most amazing lay. And if we did this I wouldn't find that out precisely, but I would at least know what his cock felt and tasted like, and whether his cum was bitter or sweet. We set up a time for the next day, around lunchtime.
And that's how I found myself in that booth, waiting not-so-patiently for a guy who was totally off-limits. Finally, he texted that he was there and I undid the bolt on the booth and let him in.
