Drunk And Horny In A Hotel Bar

All characters are above the age of 18 unless otherwise specified.

This story is based off the request of a reader, and is inspired partially by true events.

*********

"Well, I guess I'll be by the pool then."

"Alright, sweetie. You could go up to the room too if you want. Watch tv or something. We're going to be a few hours."

Steve did this to me all the time. It was getting very old.

My husband of ten years was a former college football player, and he still loved sports religiously. His most recent and passionate fancy had come in the form of rugby. For the past few years, I had gone with him to every club match of his. Most of them were out of town and took up entire weekends with travel-time, but I did it.

At this point, I was questioning why. None of the other wives of Steve's teammates went. They all had lives, or could say no. But I had never stood up to Steve. Maybe it was just in my nature.

I was naturally shy, and used to lack self-confidence. I was a loner growing up, the baby of my large family. I was in music and theater, and hung out in the library a lot. I never could talk to boys or even figure out when they were ogling me.

And looking back, that was often. I developed my boobs early, and they had blossomed into full and perky C-cups by the time I hit high school. My hair was curly and orange-red (the Irish blood), coming down to near my shoulders, which struck a harsh contrast to my pale skin tone. From a young age, I turned heads, and that had never ceased to occur, even as I hit the age of 34 and left behind my youthful vigor and exuberance. Guys must have still liked something about my face or eyes or boobs.

With all the downtime of being a housewife, I jogged a lot and kept myself fit with toned legs that I liked to occasionally show off in skirts. Today was one of those days. I was in a thin floral summer dress, black with large purple and white flowers on it. The fabric came to an end just above my knee and the V-neck plunged low enough that some of my cleavage was clearly visible.

Perhaps the thing I liked most about my body though was my round bubble butt. I was naturally gifted with a splendid ass, but did more than a few squats and long runs to maintain it and keep my husband's interest. Sadly, he seemed to pay more attention to the asses of props and flankers than my own.

Right now, we were in a 3-star hotel in a town a little south of Colorado Springs. Steve had just finished up a tiring day, and was now in a hotel bar with his teammates. It had become ritualistic for them to play long, expensive games of poker following game-day.

Being the only female, I had tried to play once, but was clearly not all that welcomed. So I instead took the opportunity to sample all of the hotel pools and tv channels in Colorado.

Today I had been feeling especially good. Steve's team had won their match, and for whatever reason, I was in a loving mood. I wore the flirty dress with the hope of drawing Steve away from poker and to me. I even had gone with four inch heels and no bra, trying to excite him more.

Of course, he hadn't even noticed and dismissed me with the air of a parent whose crossword puzzle had been interrupted by a pesky child. I sighed and began walking out of the bar, but I stopped. I guess I could have a drink first, to relax myself before going for a swim.

"One glass of house red please," I ordered.

I sat at the bar, very slowly sipping on the wine. Why didn't I ever stand up to Steve? I had supported him with his hobby and sacrificed countless weekends for him. And for what? To be ignored and shooed away to cheap liquor.

My gaze was resting firmly on a patch of the wall that held nothing of interest, when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.

Two men were sitting at the bar, directly opposite me. I thought I recognized them, and upon further study, my initial guess was correct. Both were players on the team that Steve had beaten just a few hours earlier.

I had to admit that both men were extremely attractive in a rugged, very masculine way. And they were looking right at me, talking with each other.

I tried to avert my gaze to the Rockies game on the television, but they had noticed I was staring. I could see them beckoning for me come over. I wasn't sure what to do. Normally, I wouldn't have given them a second thought.

But I was feeling different tonight, and Steve had spurned me one too many times for me not to treat myself. I peeked over at Steve's booth. It was a round one in the corner, and the shoulder-high separators between booths prevented any of the sitting people from seeing the bar. I decided to head over. There wasn't any harm in just flirting and teasing, right? It sounded like fun. Maybe I could get some free wine out of it too.

"Well hello there, beautiful. I do believe I've seen you somewhere before," the one on the right said. He had moved one stool over so I could perch directly between them.

"Hmm... I recognize you guys. You're the left wing for the... um... team in the bright green," I addressed the man on my right. "And you're the outside center." I turned to speak to the one on my left.

"Very good," he responded. "You've got a solid memory."

"Well I've certainly been dragged to enough of these to know the positions."

"Well, we hope our ludicrous display today was enough to make you laugh in spite of being 'dragged.' Oh, we haven't introduced ourselves. How rude. I'm Trent," the one on the left continued.

"I'm Sean," the other added.

Trent was pretty big, probably around 6 feet and 200 pounds. Certainly not huge, but compared to my 5'3", 115 pound frame, he was massive (I didn't even have the advantage of heels sitting down). Trent had short black hair and a full beard. His face was worn almost, but very chiseled and defined.

Sean was a little taller than Trent, maybe 6'2", and definitely more muscular and broader in the upper body. Sean had longer dirty blonde hair, still gelled and styled very well. Sean's face seemed much softer and more disarming in a sense.

"Lovely to meet you both."

"And you would be? Certainly your name can't just be 'Beautiful woman.'" Sean said.

I gave a fake laugh. "Oh, I'm Shannon. My husband plays on the team you guys just lost to."

"Well we can't be seen talking with you then. Fraternizing with the enemy! Our team would kill us if they ever caught us talking with an opposing wife."

"Although I'm sure they'd make an exception for someone of your elegance and beauty," Trent continued.

"Oh, you're too kind," I replied, chuckling at his sweet charm.

"So you travel for the games on the weekend? We never really see spouses come out." Sean inquired.

"Yep. Haven't missed one in years."

"I can't imagine it's much fun for you. You seem like a very devoted wife."

"Oh, thank you. I have to be honest, at this point it's more the pools and minibars that are more enticing for me than anything else."

"Well, it does look like you're nearing empty on your drink," Trent pointed out. "But I'm sure you'll want something stronger, to celebrate our defeat obviously."

"Oh, no the wine is fine."

"No please, we insist. On us. Bartender, get this gorgeous young lady a shot of Jaeger."

"Woah! I don't ever drink that stuff." I halfheartedly protested.

"Oh come on," Trent pleaded. "You deserve to let loose. Looks like all the boys are playing a card game, why shouldn't you get to have some fun too?"

"Well, I guess you're right. But only one. Seriously. I can't hold my alcohol well at all."

The shot glass was set down in front of me. I grasped it with slightly sweaty palms, before taking a deep breath and downing the whole thing.

"Yeah! You're already looking like a pro."

"Yeugh! That stuff tastes like death! Oh, but it's really strong. Holy shit!"

"Sounds about right. Nobody actually likes drinking Jaeger, but it gets the job done!"

I could already feel the alcohol starting to take effect on me, making me lightheaded.

"That it does. So what brings both of you out here? Spouses to get away from?"

Trent and Sean began telling me about themselves. Trent was a star college football safety, like Steve (though he had been a linebacker), who had actually even gotten drafted by the Broncos, which brought him to Colorado. But he got into a drunk driving accident that permanently wrecked his knee and destroyed his hopes of a pro career.

He had gotten into serious debt with his physical therapy, but worked with a team of engineers and doctors to develop a new type of knee brace for athletes, which had made him serious amounts of money. Eventually he picked up rugby as a hobby since he didn't want to step foot on a football field again, and now he lived off his earnings and did motivational speaking as well.

I was surprised to find Trent extremely well spoken for a football player. He was clearly quite intelligent, in spite of the multiple concussions sustained in his career. Yet he was still extremely quick and witty, and it made me think about what he could have done had he not done all that damage to his brain.

Sean had a less exciting life story, albeit still interesting. He had grown up as a trust-fund baby, the son of a wealthy CEO in Denver. He had moved to Aurora after going to college in California to keep his home roots, and started an advertising company, which he described as "middling."

What he lacked in confidence in his business, he more than made up for in confidence in himself. Sean was very charming and up-front. As he told stories of his childhood misadventures, I found myself genuinely laughing for what seemed like the first time in a while. I had come to just tease the men, but found myself actually liking them.

When both Trent and Sean had exhausted their story archives, they ordered me a second shot. I attempted to turn it down, but they were having none of it.

"Come on, we're just getting started! Your husband's not going to be done with his card game for hours, you said. Just one more! Then you can leave us behind and get in the hot tub or something to relax," Sean reasoned.

"Ooh, that does actually sound nice."

"It would sound nicer if we weren't being left behind," Trent coyly stated. I laughed it off, but secretly the idea was sticking with me. I checked Steve's booth again, to confirm he couldn't see me and the two guys. We were just talking now, but still...

The second shot arrived and I downed it again.

"Agh! Still burns."

"You get more used to it the more you drink."

"Yeah, I guess I just need a little more experience." I let out a small burp. "Oh, how unladylike of me! Don't tell Steve!"

"We wouldn't dream of it," Trent answered. "You have to start drinking with us more often, then you'll learn to hold your liquor better."

"Well, it would certainly disrupt my normal trend of swimming or getting in the hot tub to de-stress."

"Oh, have you tried massage parlors? I've heard there are quite a few around here." Sean asked.

"Haha, no, I wouldn't want a stranger touching my body and everything. Although, my shoulders are really killing me from the way I was sitting at the game."

"Well, I did major in kinesiology, so I know a thing or two about sore muscles. You mind if I give it a try?" Trent asked.

The two shots of Jaeger had really opened my mind and turned off the filter in my brain. Plus, it felt good for somebody to be paying attention to me at last. Every woman wants to be complimented and pampered, and my turn had been a long time coming. So contradicting what I had just said, I relented.

"Sure. Do your worst." I turned to face Sean directly, placing my back to Trent.

"Oh, I don't think you'd like to see that," Trent responded. I giggled again.

"I wouldn't be so sure!" Wow, this was fun. Actually saying what I was thinking without trying to repress it. Plus, it was fun teasing the guys, knowing I could back away if I wanted to.

Trent's big, tough hands moved to my shoulders. He gripped my muscles tightly, and began kneading his palms into my upper back.

"Oh, that feels really nice actually. Keep going."

"Whatever you say, madame."

I could sense Trent's beer-tinged breath beating down on my neck, making me feel very diminutive and submissive. I liked the sensation. His hands were like magic though, pressing right into my most tense areas.

"So Shannon." Sean began.

"Yes?"

"Tell me a little more about yourself. We've been telling you stories about ourselves, but haven't heard much from you. We'd hate to seem selfish."

"Oh, don't worry! You haven't been. After all, you've paid to get me nearly drunk!"

Sean chuckled and placed his hand on the top knee of my crossed legs. "I suppose we have. But don't look at it like us getting you drunk. Think of it like us paying for you to have a night to yourself. You came all this way to support your husband, and then he runs off? You should get a night to treat yourself."

"Or have us treat you," Trent added. His hands worked over my spine, moving slightly lower on my back. I knew they were right, but I still hadn't fully convinced myself that I wanted it.

"Exactly. In fact, I'm going to buy you a third shot. Bartender!" Sean snapped his fingers.

"Oh no, you really shouldn't." I placed my hands down on the hand that Sean had resting on the bar.

"Well, maybe I shouldn't, but I am." His hand slid a little more up my bare leg. My skirt had ridden up slightly above my knees to my mid-thigh, and his fingertips were an inch or two below the hem.

"Oh, I guess it would be rude of me to decline, wouldn't it be? Alright, I guess. You two are so bad."

Trent's hands had wandered closer to my underarms, still massaging my skin through the flimsy summer dress.

I downed my third shot, and by now was definitely feeling very close to drunk. I turned back to face Sean. He had leaned a little closer in, and I could smell the masculine musk coming from him. His post-game shower clearly hadn't been completely cleansing.

It was weird to think, but I almost loved that smell. It had been so long since Steve had taken control of me, or displayed his masculinity. I had a one-night stand in college with a guy who completely manhandled me, and that was the hardest I ever came. Nobody else had given me anything close to that. Subconsciously, I was striving for that again. Deep down, I knew I needed it.

Sean's hand had slipped further up my leg. His fingers were now underneath my skirt, just resting on my bare thigh. Trent's hands had moved closer in as well, and he was now brushing his fingers against the sides of my breasts with each motion of his hands.

In a sober state, I would have recognized what the guys were doing a long time ago, and maybe I really had recognized it a while ago. I know what I should have done was said thank you for the drinks and given my husband the fucking of his life in our hotel room, but I didn't. I couldn't rationally explain why.

My pussy had been tingling all throughout the night, but was beginning to throb now. I hadn't been this turned on in a long time, as far back as I could remember in my marriage to Steve. I was boxed in between two men near a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier than me. I had put myself in the position that I was so desperately craving, and I had done it without even making a conscious decision about it.

"Ahem." Sean cleared his throat and snapped me out of my thoughts. "I do believe the room might be getting a little cold for you." His eyes looked down briefly at my chest.

I suddenly became aware that my nipples were tingling and aching. I looked down. They were protruding very clearly through my dress. The smooth black fabric was interrupted by two rock-hard nubs poking through. My decision to not wear a bra tonight had really backfired, or maybe not?

"Uhh, yeah, chilly or... something." The room was most assuredly hot, and not just because of the temperature.

Sean leaned in even closer, so his face was just a few inches from mine. "Shannon, I'm going to ask you a very blunt question. Do you plan on going back to your hotel room or to your husband right now?"

His hand continued further up my thigh. His entire wrist had disappeared up my skirt, and his fingers were gently rubbing the inside of my thigh, barely an inch from my pussy.

Trent's hands had now moved to my chest, and he was very clearly squeezing my perky boobs. His palms pressed down into my nipples, making them tingle.

I couldn't really believe what was happening. I was being felt up by two strangers at a bar. And loving every second. I had no clue what I was going to do tonight, because I felt horny enough to do just about anything for the two men.

My head cleared for a moment, and my eyes darted over to Steve's booth for the last time, recognizing that no one was coming to save me from my own desire. Why did I feel so excited about that? Ugh. I was a terrible person. Or maybe just acknowledging my repressed desires.

But I didn't care right now. A small moan escaped my lips as Trent rolled my nipples between his fingers on each hand. He had managed to reveal even more of my cleavage to the point that the edges of my areolas were just peeking out from the side of the fabric.

Sean's hand made the last step, and he pressed his fingers against the crotch of my panties.

"Wow, Shannon. You're pretty wet, aren't you?"

I gave a small "mm-hmm" whimper in response. I was so ready to explode from horniness right now. I was almost to the point that I wanted to be bent over the bar and fucked right there, but I obviously couldn't do that.

Trent leaned down and delivered a kiss on the back of my neck, making me shiver from the unexpected touch.

"What do you say we take this somewhere more private?" he whispered into my ear.

"Uhh-huhh," I responded.

"Great," Sean said. He laid a 100 down on the bar. "Bartender, our lady friend would like one more for the road."

My eyebrows shot up. The bartender came over with the fourth shot while Trent was very clearly tweaking my nipples and Sean's hand was up my skirt.

"Last one, Shannon. Bottom's up."

***

We had to take the elevator with a couple and their two kids. Condescending looks were doled out by the wife at my reddened cheeks and chest, my very hard nipples, and the bulges in the two men's pants (three if you count her considerably less-offended husband).

The elevator doors opened, and they ended up getting off at the same floor as us. We were shadowed all the way until we got to Sean's room, when they kept walking to theirs.

We were in, the door was shut, and the animal inside of me was unleashed. I had all the time during the long elevator ride to stew in my decision, and the alcohol was doing a lot to convince me I had made the right choice. I was thinking with my pussy and not with my brain, but one side was arguing that I should get in bed and read a book, and the other was arguing for what would surely be the most pleasurable night for me in years. It's not hard to figure out why I made the decision I did.

Hands latched onto my body. Sean was straight in front of me, and he pulled aside the dipping v of my dress to expose my breasts. My nipples were still extremely hard—they tended to get like that when I was very horny. Sean's hands forcefully squeezed and groped my tits, while he leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I wrapped a hand around his head, pulling him in closer.

Trent was behind me, and he had pulled up the bottom of my skirt to my waist. His fingers hooked into my waistband and he pulled my panties down around my ankles, where I stepped out of them. Trent kissed the back of my neck while his hands moved to my pussy.

His fingers brushed over my mound and met the small landing strip of red hair that I maintained. My husband didn't like that I styled it, always fearing what my gynecologist would think of me. That seemed rather silly now.