It’s None of Your Business!

Prologue

As he plunged into me, over and over, I could hardly believe this was happening! That cock pounding away at me felt fantastic. His friends on either side were each holding one of my ankles as they held me spread open, making this effortless for me. I could just lie here relaxing and focus on the feeling of him thrusting into my pussy, until he finished. Then I expected a very short break while they changed positions with one of those other magnificent hard-ons at my sides taking his place. Or they might tell me to get on my hands and knees, so they could both enter me from either end and I could have one in my mouth at the same time.

I wonder if they'll make me clean their cocks with my mouth when they're done.

Carl was right. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I could have so much fun!

It might seem like I'm just their fuck-toy for the evening. But I missed so much sex over the last few years, I needed this and MORE, to make up for lost time.

I tried to tell my husband where I was going tonight. And he would have known it meant I'd be getting fucked, if he had bothered to listen! Well, I didn't know it would be THREE men at the same time. This was just an opportunity I couldn't resist. I gave Gary enough chances, doing everything I could think of to make him change his bad habits. Now I don't know what he'll do when I go home and tell him about this. Maybe he'll finally wake up and try harder to keep our marriage alive with me. But if he wants to divorce me over it, so be it!

Intro

I, Lisa, met my husband when we were in our late 20's via work friends. After dating for two years, he proposed marriage. We seemed so compatible, I eagerly said 'Yes!' In those early years our sex life was fantastic.

As expected, when the kids came along, things changed. We slowed down, with the young ones taking all our energy after work. I hoped Gary and I would spend more quality time together when the kids were older and as we entered our empty nest years. Now after over twenty years together the twins are heading off to college, and this should be our time.

Over the last ten years, our sex life declined further than even when the kids were younger and needed more attention. I assumed that this decline in our sex life was just due to age. But I never lost hope that things would get better between me and my husband when the distractions of the kids at home disappeared as they left the nest. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. So, what happened next wasn't my fault.

Once the kids were in their teens and more independent, I spent time before or after work going to the gym and watching my weight. It made me feel more energetic,... and sexy! I wanted so much for my husband to embrace me again.

My husband, Gary, on the other hand, was the one putting on weight and drinking more. I don't think it was due to any stress at work causing his issues. He was always upbeat about his job whenever we talked about our work. He was just drinking more and not bothering to exercise or get out of the house. The only time he would go anywhere without me was to work at his office or stop at a bar with his co-workers after work.

I was worried about him, because his own father was an alcoholic. I thought it might be an inherited trait, and I tried warning him to watch out for the signs that he might be drinking too much. But every time I mentioned it; he got angry and dismissed my concerns.

##

It was Friday and I was feeling horny. I finished reading the monthly book club selection by lunch time for our meeting the next morning. That erotic novel made me want it, and it had been far too long since the last time Gary and I had sex.

I came home from work an hour early to surprise my husband, thinking I would entice him, envisioning us rekindling the flames of passionate sex we enjoyed in our younger years. I put on sexy lingerie, hoping for once to seduce him. But he came home from work later than I hoped, and I could tell he stopped at a bar with friends! He ignored the way I was dressed merely asking "What's for dinner?" as he went straight to the liquor cabinet to pour a drink.

I was horny, and here he was at least two drinks into his usual sluggish evening and looking for more alcohol!

I got mad and angrily said "Fix your own dinner!"

"Good," he replied as if sounding relieved. "I'll call to order a pizza. Let me know if you want anything besides extra cheese on it," and he took his drink into the living room to watch TV.

I stormed off to bed feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. Lying in bed, I was fuming at his behavior, ignoring my needs. Then I leaned over to my nightstand and pulled out my Hitachi Wand to work myself into forgetting my pot-bellied oaf in the living room.

Book Club

After the discussion of that erotic book, I was again feeling the need for relief which I knew wasn't going to happen at home. As we were all leaving, I walked beside Julie toward our cars, hoping to wrest some nuggets of information from her about her new single life. I was curious to know how she handled the issue of declining intimacy with her husband before they divorced.

"How have things been since you kicked Matt out, Julie?" I asked. "You haven't said much about it, and I think everyone is just a little too embarrassed to ask."

"I'm a lot happier now that my cheating bastard is gone," Julie said.

"You said before that you two weren't getting intimate for the last three years since he started with his girlfriend," I reminded her. "How did you deal with that lack of intimacy when you were still married?"

"Each time he ignored me after being satisfied with his girlfriend," Julie said, "I went to 'The Club'. It eventually got to the point with him spending so much time with her that he didn't want sex with me anymore."

"Is The Club like a pick-up bar," I asked. "I heard some rumors about a place some of the wives go. But other than for cheating, I could never see any reason to go to a place like that. Did Matt know you were going there?"

"It's not what you think, Lisa," Julie replied. "A girl has needs, and sometimes a few of us will have a drink together at the Marquis Hotel bar. It's just a safe place to get what we need. Matt never knew I was going there, and with his own girlfriend, I doubt he would have cared if he did know. That's why I kicked him out."

With that, Julie got into her car and left.

Through Sickness and In Health

The call took me by complete surprise. It was just a normal day at work in my office, when my husband's boss called saying an ambulance was taking Gary to the hospital emergency room.

"It appears to be a heart attack, Lisa," he said. "The elevator was full, and he decided to try climbing the two flights of stairs! But he was found in time, and I think the ambulance crew and doctors can do wonders about these things today. Let me know what the doctors say, and if there's anything we can do for you as he recovers."

But the doctor told me that my husband needed to lose weight and stop drinking.

"His liver enzymes are way off," the doctor said and added, "You might have noticed the whites of his eyes are yellowing. That's a symptom of decreased liver function. If he stops drinking immediately and completely, his liver will recover somewhat after about a year or two. But if he continues using alcohol, his liver will eventually fail. And he's not eligible for a transplant with his weight and alcohol abuse."

The doctor went on and on, talking directly to Gary to impress on him the severity of his condition.

"You were lucky they found you quickly," he said. "Ten or twenty minutes later, and there would have been too much damage to the heart muscle, which can't be repaired. Too much delay in getting blood flow to the heart destroys the tissue and patients who live through it are often bedridden. I have one patient who can't even lift his own head due to the heart damage. If you keep eating the unhealthy foods, it's only a matter of time before you have another heart attack or even a stroke."

##

While Gary was in the hospital, I visited him while he was awake. When he slept, I went home to clear out all alcohol from our house. I cleaned out the refrigerator and restocked it and the cupboards with healthier choices. There would only be healthy food in our house from now on for him. I also bought a treadmill and had the shop deliver it, setting it in the basement for him to use when the doctors would finally give him permission to start walking. Gary would be able to walk for exercise in any weather while watching the wall-mounted TV. I wasn't going to allow him any excuses for avoiding exercise!

But over the next few months, I found my efforts were a waste.

We Need to Talk

"Gary, I've been finding fast food wrappers in the trash," I said when I confronted him. "And you haven't been using the treadmill I bought for you. The doctor told you that you need to exercise more to lose weight. And you must watch your diet! He warned that your old diet was risking more plaque buildup for another heart attack or stroke!"

"You're not home all day to see me use it," he said, trying to deflect, and I knew he was lying to me.

"I know you're not using it!" I exclaimed. "In case you didn't notice that treadmill and the new scale in the bathroom are both Wifi connected. There's an app on my cellphone that shows when the treadmill was used and what our weights are every time we step on the scale! That app shows it's been used when I was on it. And the scale shows you've put on another five pounds in the last month!"

"So, you're spying on me," he said, now trying to turn this around to blame me, as if I'm wrong.

"Give me a break!" I shouted. "I'm not stupid! I also saw the credit card statements and noticed a re-occurring charge every few days for the price of a bottle of scotch at the liquor store! And I know I haven't been buying anything there. It's the same amount for a bottle of your favorite Scotch! Where are you hiding it?"

"Stop nagging me!" he insisted. "I've been trying to cut back."

"You almost died!" I shouted. "I spent those days in the hospital sitting with you and I don't want to go through that again. If you won't take care of yourself, then forget about that

'In sickness and in health'

wedding vow. That only works for unexpected things outside of our control. THIS is something you're doing to yourself,... and to me!"

"It's not easy to quit!" he admitted. "It's my body, and none of your business!"

"It is my business if I have to take you to the hospital!" I shouted. "If you won't stop drinking and take better care of your health, then,... then I need to look out for myself! If I catch you taking another drink, I'm going to look for other options."

"Are you going to file for divorce?" he asked, sounding surprised. "If you do, I won't sign it!"

"I love you, and I don't want to divorce you," I said, trying to appeal to any sense of obligation he might have left for me and the kids. "I want you to be there with me when our kids graduate college and for you to see them start their own families. But I have needs. You're not just doing this to yourself. You're doing it to the kids and to me, too! And if you're not going to be there with me in bed, then..." and I paused as I shook my head, and my mind bounced around with what I should say next to try catching his attention. "... then I need to try finding someone who wants me! If my husband no longer wants to use my vagina, I'm sure I can find many other men who will!" And I stormed out to let him think about it, hoping my threat would catch his attention.

I ran up to our bedroom and slammed the door, dropping onto the bed where I cried for an hour before I finally fell asleep, alone.

##

Over the following few evenings, I tried talking to Gary about his alcohol and weight issues. He just kept repeating the same refrains that

'You don't know what it's like,'

or

'I try but it's not that easy.'

It seemed the more I pressured him, the more he retreated and tried to deny there was any problem. We would both eventually get frustrated or mad, and he would default by telling me

'It's my body and my life, so leave me alone!'

I couldn't get him to change his bad habits with threats, guilt trips, or even seduction. He was no longer interested in sex with me.

It was about four days after I confronted him when I came home from work, and I saw Gary in the kitchen taking a drink from a pocket flask. When he saw me, he quickly tried to hide the flask, looking guilty. So, I didn't need to ask, his expression was the only proof I needed. And THAT was the final straw!

I just turned around and slammed the door as I left the house. I got back into my car and drove forty-five minutes to the Marquis Hotel. Taking the elevator to the penthouse bar, I hoped I might find someone there for some relief! Or at least I might find Julie or someone I might recognize from our neighborhood and could talk to.

The Club

It was about six thirty on the Friday evening when I stepped out of the hotel's elevator.

I thought the woman standing to check in across the foyer at the restaurant's Matre'd podium looked familiar. I might have seen her around the neighborhood. Maybe I bumped into her at a high school play, or I might have seen her at church, ours being a rather large congregation and I didn't know everyone who attended the different services. But she looked stunning, in a short red cocktail dress and four-inch heels. I looked down at my own attire, still dressed in my usual office work clothes, black slacks, three-inch heels, and a conservative blouse.

The girl at the podium was handing her a credit card sized item. The woman turned to me saying "Hold the elevator please," as she took the card and walked toward me to take the elevator down. As the elevator door closed, I went to the Matre'd, saying "I was hoping to meet a friend here at The Club."

The girl asked, "Do you have a reservation?"

"No, I'm not here for dinner," I replied. "I just wanted to find The Club."

"Well, the nightclub doesn't open until seven, and the band starts at eight," she explained. "You're welcome to sit at the bar to wait for your friend," and she indicated the door nearby to the bar and lounge.

"Okay, I'll try that," I said as I turned and entered the bar.

The large room was well lit, with dark wood furnishings. There were various sitting areas with low tables and overstuffed leather chairs and couches spaced apart for relative privacy. Only two of the areas were occupied by groups of four men each who didn't even glance my way when I entered. The bar itself was along one wall with a dozen barstools and there was a couple at the far end engrossed in their own conversation, so I took one of the seats closest to the door and picked up a wine list.

The bar menu didn't have any prices, so when the bartender came to me, I asked for a glass of wine from near the top of the list, a vineyard I recognized as one of the least expensive.

"What member name should I use for the tab?" she asked.

"I'm not a club member, I'm just waiting for a friend," I explained.

She merely smiled and poured my wine, then placed a slip of paper in an empty drink glass along the inside rail of the bar for my open tab. When she walked away to check on the other couple, I picked out the paper to see that for what I thought was an inexpensive glass of wine I was charged thirty dollars! I knew this was one glass from a bottle of wine that cost less than ten dollars at the grocery store. The shocked look on my face must have been obvious.

As I replaced the slip of paper, I heard a voice behind me asking "Do you mind if I sit here?" and I turned to see a handsome guy in a black tux indicating the chair beside me at the almost empty bar.

"Not at all," I replied, welcoming him with a wave at the bar stool next to me. As I regained my composure, I just thought to make this very expensive glass of wine last.

"I haven't seen you here before," he said as he took the seat. "I'm Carl, the hotel's penthouse club manager. I thought I knew all of the usual patrons. Your name...?" and he waited expectantly for an answer.

"I've heard rumors of a club here," I explained without giving my name, "... sort of a place for lonely housewives just out looking for something different, like a pick-up bar. But this turned out to be more than I thought possible," as I raised my wine glass with a look of astonishment.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not that kind of bar," Carl explained. "This bar and the restaurant are more for the business-types with expense accounts paid by their corporations, or the rich with money to waste. The business types are here trying to win contracts, impressing clients by throwing money around for over-priced food and drinks."

"I'm not on an expense account," I said and took a very small sip of the wine.

He must have noticed my frugal sip, when he said, "The nightclub across the hall attracts couples and hotel guests for a special evening out with lower-priced drinks, bar food, and dancing. That might be more the speed you're looking for. But in this bar, the prices discourage single women from spending too much time here waiting for their 'date' to show up. It might send the wrong signal."

"My friend, Julie, said she hangs out at The Club here," I pointed out. "Did she mean that nightclub?"

He gave me a curious look, before taking out a cellphone and saying, "Excuse me for a moment," as he tapped a few keys and sent a text message. He studied the phone for a few seconds, apparently waiting for a response as it was being typed. Seconds later it pinged with a reply, and after reading it, he looked back at me.

"Well, Lisa,..." he started, and his using my name caught me by surprise, "... The drinks are on me." He reached for my bar tab, withdrawing it from the glass and crumbling the paper to drop on the bar. Noticing the quizzical expression on my face, he explained, "I took your picture before I came over to talk, and I know Julie. She's vouching for you and gave me your name. So, if you'd like, I can offer you more details on The Club. But first you'd need to sign a non-disclosure agreement."

"Non-disclosure agreement?" I asked. "Is The Club a government secret?"

"No," Carl replied dismissively, and he waved the bartender over. She must have been listening and she brought a paper and pen, handing them to me. "It's not that The Club is a secret. I think almost everyone in the area has heard about it. But many members are sensitive to their names and activities being broadcast to the public. So, the agreement is that you won't discuss anyone you see or any of their activities. You can only talk about what you do, not what other club members, or their guests do if you recognize them around here."

"Okay," I said as I filled in my name and signed the form, curious to learn more.

"Good," Carl said as the bartender took the form and turned away from us going off probably to file it with others. "Now you're welcome to come here anytime you want. So, let's talk about why you came here tonight. I noticed you're wearing a wedding ring. You mentioned a 'pick-up bar.' I'd guess you're either bored or having issues with your husband at home. He might be cheating on you and you are looking for revenge, or he's lost interest in you."

"Right so far," I admitted, without selecting which was correct.

"Well, this isn't a pick-up bar, so you're out of luck if that's what you expected. I could recommend another place near here, if that's what you want. But I'd caution you to be careful. There are predators out there, and some don't want to hear 'No' as an answer if you don't like them or change your mind. Don't take any drink they hand you, and even watch the bartenders carefully, because there are some sleazy ones."