Maggie and I were sitting at a diner in the small town of Skowhegan, Maine listening to the conversation of a few local men at the next table. We were wandering around Maine and had ventured north of where most tourists go.
The locals were discussing what I guessed was an afterhours bar outside of Skowhegan. One of the men was not familiar with it. "Go out 104 past Craigin Brook, then turn right on Heritage Drive and left on the first dirt road you come to," said a tall, skinny guy who looked like he was a serious drinker. "There's no sign or anything but you can tell the road is well used. Stay on that road for a mile or two, you'll see the place on the left. There'll be cars there."
The blonde man who had asked for directions spoke up. "You guys going tonight?" The one who'd given directions said he'd been there last weekend and his wife didn't want to go again so soon. The remaining men shrugged—"don't know what we're going to do."
"I don't really want to go by myself," said blondie. "Well," said one of the others, "it is better if you bring a girl with you."
Their conversation drifted off to other politics and I stopped listening. But I was intrigued by the afterhours bar. It sounded a bit wild based on the earlier conversation we'd overheard and I was up for something different. We were going to spend one more night in Skowhegan and the nightlife in town left a lot to be desired.
"What are you thinking, Arnie?" whispered Maggie. My wife could always tell when there was something on my mind. I smiled. "Thinking about going to this afterhours place. Sounds more exciting than the local bar."
Maggie looked at the nearby table of men. "Why do you have to bring a girl?" she asked.
"I don't know but you wouldn't want to go where it was all men, would you?"
"No. Maybe we should ask these guys about it."
I turned around in my chair. "Excuse me. We couldn't help overhearing about this bar. Do you think we should try it?" That question was answered with a bunch of grins and some appraising looks at Maggie. "Go for it—you heard my directions?" said the skinny guy.
"Yup, " I answered. "What time does it start?"
"Fairly early," was the answer. "Some time around midnight. There's a $10 cover charge to pay for the entertainment." The other men laughed.
Not sure what that laugh meant, I said okay, maybe we'll try it and I turned back to Maggie. We finished our dinner and left the diner to go back to our motel. We had a couple of hours before this bar would open. I said a nap might do us both good.
"You're sure about this afterhours place, " Maggie wondered.
"We'll drive out there. If it doesn't look okay we won't go in." Maggie shrugged and said, "I thought afterhours places started when the other bars closed—like 2 am or even 4 am?"
"That's in the city," I told her. "Maybe these folks go to bed earlier."
Maggie said she was also concerned about the guys at the diner. "The way they looked at me and talking about bringing a girl—is this some kind of sex thing?"
"Probably just a pickup joint, " I replied, "or maybe there's amateur strippers." She made a face. "Not my thing."
"I'll be there to protect you."
"My hero." She smiled, rolled over on the motel bed and immediately went to sleep. Maggie and I were 33 and have been married five years. With no kids we were free to travel around and were enjoying our Maine vacation. We're both still in good shape and I guess I'd describe our sex life as "fine"—not spectacular but we knew how to get each other off. Things had become somewhat routine. Maybe the afterhours joint would spark something.
We woke up a bit after midnight, spruced ourselves up a bit and headed out. The man's directions were good and we had no trouble finding the bar, arriving at about 1 am. The place seemed fairly crowded, maybe 20 to 30 cars parked every which way around the unimpressive building in a large clearing cut out of thick woods. We could hear music faintly.
The joint had no sign, inside or out, to indicate its name. Inside it looked like your typical dive bar, maybe a bit seedier than most. Lots of people, about half of them women with everyone appearing to be in their 20s and 30s, quite a few of them good looking, some not so much. Just about everyone was holding a beer bottle. I'm sure most, maybe all, knew we were outsiders but that didn't seem to bother anyone. Several men gave Maggie an appreciative look.
We walked toward the bar. "I don't suppose they'd have a nice Cabernet, " Maggie joked.
I grinned. "Two Bud Lights," I said to the bartender and put a twenty on the bar. He brought our bottles and my change, no glasses were offered. Maggie and I turned around and checked out the scene.
There were a lot of wooden four-top tables, about half of them occupied. In the middle of the floor one table, unoccupied, seemed by itself with quite a bit of space around it. That table also had some strange looking cuff-like things—one pair at each end of the table. I couldn't figure that out—maybe for arm wrestling?—was tying the arms down a thing?
There was a kind of restlessness in the air—I couldn't quite put my finger on what I was sensing. It was different than the usual air at a pickup spot—people on the prowl. This seemed more like an anxiousness, people waiting for something to happen.
It took awhile but something finally did happen. Two guys grabbed a girl at the bar and brought her to the special table in the center. She was giggling and I think everyone in the room except Maggie and me knew what was going to happen.
"Okay, let's get this party started!" someone shouted.
The girl—mid size, probably 28 to 30, nice shape, kind of a pretty face—was put on her hands and knees on top of the table. The cuffs were put around her wrists and legs—just below her knees. The table was small so her head was hanging off one end and her legs the other. With the cuffs on, her movement was very limited. Maggie pressed closer to me, a little bit afraid of what was about to happen.
Everyone was watching the girl. The two guys walked away and a mean looking woman, older than most of the crowd, came up behind the girl, grabbed her shorts and ripped them open at the back seam, exposing the girl's rear end. The woman then yanked hard on the girl's thong and dragged it down around her knees along with her shorts so her sex was now exposed as well as her ass. The woman grinned at the crowd, gave Maggie and me a nod for some reason and walked to the bar.
It started slowly with several guys coming up to the girl, rubbing her butt and laughing. Eventually the bartender came over with a pair of big shears and everyone cheered. He proceeded to grab her sneakers, drop them to the floor and then cut all her clothes off. Not only did he cut sufficiently to make her shorts, thong, top and bra fall off, he then cut some more, reducing the clothes to unwearable shreds. The girl was completely naked—the state the crowd (including me) really wanted.
Eventually, one guy went over to the girl, rubbed her butt and back, fondled her boobs, rubbed her pubic area and then dropped his pants and shorts to the floor. He grabbed his hard dick and stuck it in her. She moaned but didn't object as he started banging away. Maggie clung to me but she didn't look away from the scene in front of her and she didn't suggest that we leave.
The first man came with a grunt and was followed by two more. While the third guy was in her south end another man came up to her north end and offered his dick to her mouth. She accepted, he started thrusting and now she had two cocks in her. Maggie had a sharp intake of breath and I couldn't help thinking she was imagining herself in that situation and she wasn't repulsed by it either.
The fucking continued but never went into a real frenzy just a slow roll as more men took their turns. When most of the guys finished they took their pants completely off, went back to their own girl and started undressing her. That became contagious and it wasn't long before almost all the girls and at least half of the men were naked. I looked at Maggie.