As you know from my other stories, John and I have mutually agreed to my extra-marital affairs provided he knows in advance, and I divulge the complete details of the encounter, assuming he did not witness the event, which has happened on one occasion. Even though he witnessed a tryst between a golf buddy and me, we still find it exciting when John asks me about my feelings and thoughts while I was fucking and sucking his friend. In the telling we both find it enhances our love making, and the bond between us.
From a rather naΓ―ve and conservative approach of selecting and staging events designed to target on person, we have become more spontaneous, and have agreed that sometimes opportunities arise that we did not anticipate, and rather than pass, we would improvise. So without discussing the plan in advance, I was given the green light to do whatever I wanted if the opportunity existed.
A few months ago, that happened. Since some of the men we had targeted were friends or acquaintances, it was not unusual to run into one of them at some social gathering, it was always made clear to the person I had sex with, that it was a one-time event, resulting from alcohol and the circumstances, and would not be repeated. Aside from an occasional comment, none of the men had ever made another effort toward me.
It was at a Halloween Party a few months ago. The party was at the home of a friend, (not a former partner).
I dressed in a sexy outfit, not because we had a plan, in fact we didn't even know who all the invited guests were, but because John takes pride and satisfaction in watching other men hit on me. I must admit it is flattering when you can solicit and get men to pay attention to you, and not have to feel guilty, especially as we grow older. In addition to turning-on John, it is an ego-booster for me that most women my age do not get.
My outfit was a Daisy Mae costume, consisting of a short denim skirt (with split-crotch black bikini panties) and a peasant top of white cotton with red polka dots, and an elastic gathered neckline and short-sleeves (no bra). I had painted freckles on my face, and wore a yellow wig with pigtails. When going without a bra I just have to be careful how I walk so my tits don't bounce and sway when I don't want them to. John had on farmer's coveralls, plaid shirt, and straw hat.
Because of our arrangement, John and I do not follow each other around or stand together at parties. While we keep an eye on each other, we separate, and seldom get back together at parties. This makes me more approachable and gives John the opportunity to watch as I flirt, and how the men react.
Being the social butterfly I am, I quickly made the rounds of everyone in short time. Most of the women I could identify, as well as a good number of the men. Within an hour several of the men and possibly one woman has rubbed my ass, and/or rubbed against my tits. The party was off to a good start in my opinion.
I found the punch to be very tasty, and very potent. Four or five glasses later I could feel the effect, and was getting horny and drunk at the same time. Both seem to go together. Once it happens, my pussy begins to twitch, and contract, sending electric shocks throughout my body. My tits also crave to be touched. It's as if my body parts were entities with a mind and need of their own. At times like this, if I could, I would run my hand between my legs and finger my pussy and squeeze my tits. At a party that's not too practical so the only thing that would make it better would be to find someone to do it for me.......
When the alcohol and sex kick in I must emit double or triple the pheromones one normally would. I'm like an animal in estrus. Males seek me out in a crowd and begin making advances and overtures they may not have done otherwise. John has told me I have a special sort of sexual signal I give off, whether I think I am doing it or not. It's like the attention they show and my reaction feed off one another.
I sometimes wonder if I would be this way with or without John's support. I know I love him, and would never intentionally do anything that would jeopardize our marriage, but I think I am helpless to resist at times. Call it insecurity, or a need to please, whatever it is, I love the attention and the sexual tension it creates. I would say the emotional high is more satisfying than the sex, but I do love the intimacy. I love being touched, kissed and caressed and the feeling of being wanted. I don't think that is so different from anyone wants. Right or wrong, normal or not; it works for me, and I can live with that.
So here I am, in heat, in a roomful of people, now what. In the past, John and I usually had a plan, and a target; tonight I'm on my own. I headed for the restroom, once inside, checked myself, and touched up my makeup. I liked the outfit, cute and sexy at the same time. The skirt came just above my knees, not as high as I would like, but I did have to be a little conservative around all these people. Personally, I wish it barely covered my ass, so my pussy would be easy to get to, but not very practical. I reached under my skirt and slid my hand up to touch my pussy. With crotch less panties, I easily slid my fingers between the lips of pussy and began to slowly finger myself. Damn, I love the way my pussy feels. Reluctantly I withdrew my hand and raising my fingers to my nostrils, smelled my pussy before putting them in my mouth, as I licked each clean. I also love the way my pussy tastes and smells.
I left the restroom and began checking out the men. With masks you either can't tell who you're hitting on, or what they look like, a decided disadvantage.
As I stood there looking around a hand rested on my shoulder.
"Are you looking for someone?" A voice behind me said.
I turned and found myself facing a man a little taller than me, wearing a surgical suit, complete with stethoscope and surgical mask. Even though half his face was exposed, I did not recognize him and felt it was probably someone at the party I had never met. That was a good sign.
"Not really, just checking out the costumes." I replied.
His gaze ran from my tits down to my feet and back to my tits before looking me in the eye, "I find your outfit to be quite......interesting." He said.
"What? This ol' thing." I said as I raised a finger to my dimple and titled my head while smiling like a good ol' Southern gal.
He laughed.
"Let me buy you a drink." He said as he extended his arm.
I took his arm and followed him to the bar.
"What'll it be?" he asked.
"You're the doctor, I'll let you prescribe."
"Ah, the perfect patient." He said as he poured me a glass of wine, and fixed a scotch for himself. "Shall we go sit down where it's a little quieter and we can talk. Strictly doctor to patient."
He guided me down the hall to a room with double sliding doors. He opened the doors to a den. We entered and he closed the doors behind us. There was no one in the room and we moved to the large sofa facing a fireplace that had a nice fire going.
Raising his glass in a toast we touched glasses, "Here's to Daisy Mae and good health." He lowered his mask just enough to take a drink as I took a sip of my wine.
"I don't know you." I said as I studied his features. "You don't live in the neighborhood for sure."
"No. I'm a guest of a neighbor. I am in town on business, staying at their house for a couple of days."
"The doctor suit, you rented it?"
"No. My host is a doctor, I am borrowing the clothes."
That wasn't much help since there are usually several doctors at these parties. "So, what do you do?" I asked. As I asked the question I turned to the right, facing him. In doing so, I put my leg closest to him on the couch and crossed that ankle with my other leg. In that position my left leg was still on the floor, and my right leg was at a right angle. Kinda in the shape of the number 4. The position allowed my legs to spread as far as my skirt would allow. It showed a lot more leg, but not enough for him to see my pussy, though he did glance down when I changed position.
"I am a salesman, and here to see a major account. The day after tomorrow I'll be flying back to Phoenix."
We continued the small talk for several minutes. The mask was proving to be a problem so he removed it as we talked and he worked on his drink. He was good looking.
"What about you? You are obviously from this neighborhood. Are you married? Is your husband here?"