Bar Pickup 3

I'd had enough. I was entering week three of my most recent dry spell and my wife's excuses had worn thin.

"I'm too tired."

"I need a shower. I feel gross."

"I'm uncomfortable. I ate too much."

"The kids might hear us."

That last one was the last straw. It was 11 pm and our kids were 8 and 5 years old. They had been asleep for hours. Add in the fact that my wife, Lisa, never made a peep when she laid there motionless on the rare occasion when she let me fuck her, and you can see why my frustration boiled over.

I still thought Lisa, after 10 years of marriage and two kids, was the most beautiful woman in the world, but I knew she thought I was crazy. Where I saw a sexy round ass and suckable tits, she could only see cellulite and saggy boobs. I tried over and over to convince her that she was still desirable, but it only seemed to have the opposite effect.

I was useless at work the next day with the proverbial black cloud hanging over my head. My boss and coworkers must have known something was wrong, but they knew better than to bring it up. By the end of the day, I decided it was time to be a little selfish and do something for me.

I went home and enjoyed dinner with my family before informing Lisa that I was heading out to meet some friends at the bar. What I didn't tell her was that the bar was called "The Man Hole" and while I didn't know anyone there yet, I hoped to make several new friends that night.

Ever since Lisa and I started dating, I did my best to suppress what I called my "bi side." I stopped cold turkey because I knew on our first date that she was who I wanted to be with. Now, 13 years later, I was having second thoughts.

I threw on some nice jeans and a casual t-shirt, my normal bar uniform, gave Lisa and the kids a kiss, and headed out the door. My first stop was not the bar, but rather an adult bookstore that specialized in lingerie and other sexy clothes. I knew what I wanted: a sexy pair of panties and some stockings to wear under my jeans. A matching red set caught my eye immediately and, to my good fortune, they were my size.

After I made my purchase, the salesgirl was nice enough to let me change into them in the backroom, provided I let her watch. She closed the door and motioned for me to get going. I pulled off my shoes, then dropped my jeans, revealing that I was going commando. I slowly pulled the red thigh-high stockings up each of my legs. Between the audience and the feel of the silky smooth stockings, my cock hardened to it's full 7 inches, making it impossible to fit it in the tiny, strappy thong.

Even though I probably looked ridiculous, the cute salesgirl licked her lips and made it clear that she was available for me. In my mind, though, playing with a female was cheating on my wife while playing with another guy wasn't. In the back of my mind, I knew that was a stretch, but it's how I was able to justify what I wanted to do. I pulled up my jeans, quickly jammed my stocking-clad feet in my shoes, mumbled a brief thank you, and headed for my truck.

It was nearly 9:30 when I arrived at the bar. For an old married man like me, that was a late start to the night. I paid the small cover charge and found a good seat at the bar. As I suspected, it wasn't a full house but I was hoping it would fill up as the night went on. I ordered a gin and tonic and looked around the room, spotting a few guys I wouldn't mind spending some time with later.

After two strong drinks, I started to feel more relaxed. I ordered another and decided to take it on a lap around the room. The room was filling up now and I saw more and more guys I would like to get to know. As I walked around, I felt a few hands grabbing my ass, making me even hornier, if that was possible.

I was about to head back to my seat when a very handsome man caught my eye. He was looking me up and down like a predator in the wild, and I was his prey. I smiled and my face turned red to match my panties. He waved me over and without thinking, I hurried to join him at his table.

As I sat down, he reached his hand out, "Fred."

I shook his strong but soft hand, "JD," afraid to give him my real name.

"First time?" he asked me, with a look that said he already knew the answer.

"It is," I replied softly. "Nice place."

"Think so?" he said with a chuckle. "I guess I've become jaded."

I just smiled back, unsure of myself and what to say, and sipped my drink.

"So," he said, trying to get the conversation back on track, "what brings you in?"

"Um, I guess I'm looking for a little...excitement," I stammered, my face burning bright with a mixture of embarrassment and lust.

"Oh really?" he said with a wry smile. "Excitement? What's that mean to you?"

I could tell he wasn't going to let me off the hook and I was really starting to want this powerful, confident man. I took a deep breath, looked him in the eye, and said "To have someone - anyone - treat me like a sexual being."

I must have startled him with my honesty, because he was momentarily at a loss for words before he started asking detailed, probing questions. I had decided to be totally honest with him, and I stuck with it no matter how uncomfortable I became.

I detailed my early experiences with men, including my parents' neighbor who had taken me under his wing. He taught me how to please a man and drew out my budding desire to wear sexy, feminine clothes. I spent hours each day the summer before I left for college prancing around his house in panties, stockings, nighties, and so much more (or less) between stints on my knees or back for him.

Fred asked why I had taken a break from men, so I detailed meeting my wife, recognizing her sexual conservatism, and coming to the realization that if I wanted her, my playful, girlish side needed to be put back in the closet.

"So, why are you leaving all that behind tonight?" Fred asked.

"Because I'm tired of not getting what I want," I replied, almost whining. "Our sex life is almost non-existant. It's boring. I'm getting older, but I'm not dead. I want to enjoy sex and be with someone else who enjoys it, too."

Fred took a big sip of his drink. I could see his mind working. I was anticipating another hard question, and was pleasantly surprised by the easy one he asked: "So, you wanna get out of here with me?"

I practically shouted "YES!" before paying our tab and allowing Fred's hand on the small of my back to lead me to the dark parking lot. I slid into my car, excitement bubbling inside of me, and followed Fred to his house a few short blocks away. I parked on the street in front of his well manicured lawn and hurried to him as he opened his door.

My nerves hit a new level the second his door closed behind me. I briefly thought about the danger I had put myself in before I started thinking with my dick again. Danger be damned, I wanted him.

Fred popped into the kitchen to grab us each a beer. When he returned, I finally got my first good look at him. He was tall, probably 6'2" to my 5'10", and in good shape. He had a little bit of gray hair creeping in around his temples, giving him a very distinguished - almost professorial - look. He clearly spent time on his appearance, and I suddenly felt embarrassed. Despite being noticeably shorter, I probably outweighed Fred by 30 pounds, and it wasn't because of my muscles. The look in his eye, though, told me he didn't care.

We sat together on his couch, talking about nothing important as I tried to calm my nerves and get up the courage to make the first move. I should have known he would be the one to control the entire encounter.

Fred took a long swig of his beer, set the bottle down, wiped his mouth, and looked straight into my eyes. "Are you here to suck my cock or not?"

My mouth was so dry, all I could do was nod my head "yes." He grabbed the bottle from my hand and pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him. "Strip!"

I quickly moved in front of him and started by clumsily removing my shoes. I'm sure Fred noticed my stocking-clad feet, but he said nothing about them. Next, I pulled my t-shirt up over my head and tossed it on the floor near my shoes.

"Slow down," Fred told me firmly. "I like a sexy reveal."

I hadn't told Fred that I was wearing panties that night, but instinctively, he must have known. I slowly undid my belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped. I decided to take a page out of a stripper's playbook and turn my back to him, bending over as I pulled my jeans slowly down over my legs, exposing my thong, ass, and stockings to him. I tossed the jeans to the side before turning around, my hard cock peeking out the top of my bright red panties.

His eyes were on fire, making me feel sexy and wanted. I swayed my hips as I walked over to him, settling on my knees between his legs. He drank my beer while looking me dead in the eye, obviously growing impatient. I reached up, stroking him through his tight, black pants. He moaned, which echoed through the beer bottle.

I hadn't felt this submissive in a long time. Before I even knew what was happening, I looked into his eyes and asked, "Please, sir, may I suck your cock?"

Fred smiled a wicked smile, then replied, "Good girl. Yes, you may."

I quickly but carefully fished his now-hard cock out of his pants. It wasn't any longer than mine, but it was very thick and veiny. The pronounced head had my mouth watering. I gently licked and kissed the tip, before sucking the fat cockhead into my mouth, causing Fred to moan deeply and my dick to jump in my panties.

I wanted to make the experience last. I licked down the underside of his thick shaft to his heavy, full balls. I licked, teased and sucked each of his balls, worshipping them the way they deserved. I licked back to his taint, smelling his manly scent, before licking back up his cock.

I stroked his cock firmly, milking a large drop of precum from him, smearing it on my lips before licking it off. I moaned at the taste, then quickly sucked half of his cock into my mouth. I started bobbing, taking a little more each time, trying hard - unsuccessfully - not to gag around his thick cock.

"You'll learn, baby," Fred said softly after I gagged again. "A good cocksucker like you can practice anytime she wants."

I smiled as widely as I could with his cock stretching my lips before trying again to deepthroat his monster. When he realized I wasn't going to get there on my own, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

Fred grabbed the back of my head firmly with both hands and began to slowly, deeply fuck my face. He forced his cock deeper and deeper into my throat with each thrust until I felt his trimmed pubic hair tickle my nose.

"That's it, bitch," he groaned quietly. "Take it all."

His thrusts started coming faster, deeper, harder. His balls smacked against my chin as he used my mouth and throat. I felt him trying to hold back, so I firmly pressed my finger against his taint, wanting to push him over the edge. It worked.

He thrust deep into my throat and let out a loud, satisfied groan. I felt his cock swell and the spurt inside me. I wanted to taste him so I pulled back to ensure not all of his yummy cum would shoot directly down my throat. His thick cum tasted so good, I knew I wouldn't be waiting another 13 years for this treat again.

I was shaken out of my daydream by what I thought was a flash of light. My eyes popped open, but nothing seemed amiss. Fred was leaning back on the couch, both hands still holding my head while the last drops of cum leaked out of his sated cock. I chalked it up to paranoia and sucked on his cockhead, trying desperately to capture every last drop.

Fred finally released my head and I rocked back onto my heels. He smiled down at me and said, "Not bad. You sure you haven't done that recently?"

"No sir," I replied. "Not for a long time. I guess it's like riding a bike."

He handed me my beer and I washed down his cum with the dregs at the bottom of the bottle. I looked up at him, uncertain of what was next.

"You weren't expecting me to reciprocate, were you bitch?" he asked.

"No sir," I truthfully replied.

"Good, then it's time for you to go," he said dismissively.

I slowly started to get dressed, hoping he'd change his mind and ask for another round or at least offer me his number. Instead, he zipped up and waited impatiently at the door for me to get dressed and leave.

I slipped on my shoes and strolled to the door. As he opened it, he said, "I'm at that bar most nights. If you want another taste, come find me there."

The door slammed behind me, quickly followed by the click of the deadbolt. My body was full of adrenaline and my legs shook as I unsteadily made my way to the car. I was about half way across the yard when I noticed the minivan parked just ahead of my car on the street. It looked like Lisa's car, but I quickly pushed that notion out of my mind. I tried to reassure myself that she was surely home sleeping at this late hour.

The fear built inside of me with each step, though, until Lisa popped out of the shadows, holding up her phone, pushing it in my face. "Get your ass home right now or this picture goes to everyone you know!"

The flash I thought I saw must have been real. The picture, taken through Fred's window, showed me on my knees, wearing stockings and panties, a cock in my mouth, my finger up underneath him, and Fred leaning back with a very satisfied look on his face. There would be no explaining the photo. "It's not what you think" would be a lame and unsuccessful defense. She had me by the balls. She knew it and I knew it.

Caught red-pantied, I dropped my head, nodded, and got in my car to slowly drive home...

I drove as slowly as I dared, winding through the maze of streets towards my home. My brain was in overdrive, trying to come up with justifications for what I'd just done. I was dreading what Lisa would say. Would she demand a divorce? I didn't want that at all. I decided my best tactic was to be contrite and apologetic, but I had no idea if that would work.

She had beaten me home and parked her car in the middle of the garage, forcing me to park in the driveway. I slowly shuffled into the house, ready for her to begin her assault, verbal or otherwise.

She was in the dark living room. The only light was coming from the TV, where she was displaying the action shot she'd recently taken of me. Lisa had even moved some furniture around, so when I sat across from her, the pornographic picture acted like a halo above her head.

I started to sit and she barked, "Stop!".

Startled, I looked at her. Her face betrayed no emotion as she quietly, but firmly, said, "Are you still wearing that girlie shit?"

I nodded, not wanting to say a word, afraid that would piss her off even more.

"Strip down to it before you sit down," she directed me. "Why shouldn't I get the same show as your lover?"

Her extreme sarcastic tone didn't go unnoticed, and I wanted to argue that he wasn't my "lover," but I again figured the less I said the better. Quickly, I followed Lisa's orders and stripped down to my recently purchased bright red stockings and thong set before gently sitting on the couch. I just looked in her direction, not daring to make a sound.

"Do you realize how fucking ridiculous you look?" she asked, finally breaking the silence. "What the hell got into you - besides your lover?"

"Um...I don't really know what to say," I started meekly. "I guess...um...I..."

"Holy fuck," she spat at me. "I want the fucking truth or you're going out the door right now dressed like that."

"Ok, so, you know that I want - need - more sex than what we have. What you don't know is that before we met, I, um, used to play with guys sometimes, too. So, I guess I thought that playing with a guy wasn't cheating on you, you know, like if..."

"Like if you were fucking an actual woman? Got it," she interrupted.

"So, um, yeah, that's why," I stammered, thrown off by her aggressiveness. "I swear to you, though, this is the first time I've done anything with anyone else since we started dating. I'm so sorry, I feel like total shit. Whatever I need to do to make this right, I will."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, sarcasm in full swing again. "So, if I asked, you'd go back in time and unsuck his cock?"

"You know what I mean," I said.

"Why don't I tell you about my night," she said, her eyes boring a hole right through me. "I knew something was different. I could tell you were hiding something and you never go out on a Tuesday night. I called my mom and asked her to come get the kids for a sleepover. I tracked your phone so when she got here, I knew right where to go: the adult bookstore you eye fuck every time we drive by.

"The salesgirl there was very helpful when I stopped by. It cost me $50, but I even got to see the security camera footage of you putting on your *purchases*. She told me you were really cute but" gesturing towards the revealing clothes I had on "I think we both know she was wrong. She said seeing you turned her on so much she needed some relief and asked if I wanted to help. I gracefully told her I wasn't like *that* and hit the road."

I gulped. This story wasn't going to get better for me from here. I couldn't stop her, she was on a roll, but I sure didn't want to hear any more.

"I then followed your phone to, what was the name of it again, oh yes, 'The Man Hole'. What, I asked myself, is my pantie and stocking wearing husband doing at a gay pickup bar? Is it possible he lost a bet? Doing research for a novel? Well, dear, you don't write and I've never known you to bet like that, so I reached the logical conclusion that you were there to get fucked. How am I doing so far?"

"I wasn't there to..." I began before Lisa interrupted and kept going with her story.

"The very nice bouncer let me in for free as long as I promised not to start anything in the club. I flashed my dimples at him and walked right by. Imagine my surprise to see you sitting very close with a handsome older man, talking and laughing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the two of you were flirting. I grabbed a seat at the corner of the bar and watched with great interest. I saw your eyes light up and you get up to leave. I, and everyone else, saw you try to sneakily adjust your boner as you stood, but that thin thong doesn't provide much resistance, does it now?

"I finished my drink as you two drove off, since I knew your phone would tell me exactly where to go. I parked in front of your car so you couldn't make a quick getaway, then I decided to get out and snoop. I thought you two would make it tougher for me to spy on you, but nope, you were down to that girlie lingerie and on your knees on the living room floor with the lights on and the curtains wide open - like a desperate, cock-hungry slut.

"I watched for a minute. I could tell your lover was getting close, so I decided to take a picture for posterity," she said, before turning to the photo. "Not bad, right? If the damn flash hadn't gone off, I would have taken more. I think this one does the trick though, right?"

Lisa looked back at me. I just nodded yes, still afraid to speak. We were nearing the end of her "story" and I was desperately trying to figure out what her next move was.

"I watched you finish him off, rest for a minute, then start to get dressed like a sad little puppy. I assume he told you to fuck off and get out. That's when I went by my car and waited for you. That's how my night was. I'm going to ask you some questions about your night. I want the full truth or I'm throwing your ass out of my house. Got it?"

I nodded yes, but she glared at me until I finally squeaked out a quiet, "Yes."

"Hmmm," Lisa said. "That's not good enough for me. I think I want you referring to me with respect, like with a title. How about you call me 'Mistress'? No, that's too formal. I know, call me 'Boss', because I own your ass now."