I love to flirt. I love the attention of men. When we were young, my husband hated when I drew the attention of other males. Secure in our relationship after all these years, he has actually come to enjoy it. We have our steamiest sex when the topic of an added male is introduced. For the most part my flirting has been just harmless fun. I always go home with my husband. Over the years, there have been a few guys who have copped the occasional feel, some who have, down right, made me uncomfortable, and some who absolutely cross the line. The problem, lately, the line moves as I consume alcohol.
There have been some recent racy incidents that I would never have allowed were I sober. New Year's Eve, we were seated at a table with a younger couple. The arrangement is always boy – girl, boy – girl. This had me sitting next to a really cute guy about ten years younger than my husband and I. Good friends were to my husband's left and he spent much of the night in conversation with them, leaving me to spend much of the night in conversation with the good looking young man to my right. His name was Steve and he and his wife lived in the community next to ours. It was a great night. Everyone was dancing with everyone and the drinks flowed freely. I danced with Steve several times throughout the night. One number near the end of the night was slow and we clung to each other more tightly than we probably should have. I was lost in the song and forgot I was dancing with a stranger. His leg was rubbing between mine and I was enjoying the contact. When the song ended, I was actually a little startled when I looked up and realized it wasn't my husband I had been gyrating on.
As we broke apart, I defused the situation by saying "wew, that was a long song. I got so comfortable in your arms, I almost fell asleep."
We returned to the table and had yet more to drink. I shared similar dances with my husband several times afterwards as the evening wound down. By midnight we were scattered out socializing and the countdown prompted everyone to scurry about to find their mates. I didn't see my husband so I made my way back to the table where I knew he would come to find me. As I reached the table, everyone started shouting "Happy New Year" and New Year's Kissing commenced.
I always kiss any of the men who approach me. Most are simple closed mouth smooches. Some more are longer than others. Some are a bit creepy, but it's all it good fun and I always enjoy it. My husband got caught up on the other side of the room. He is usually by my side so that we can have the first kiss. As I approached our table I saw he wasn't there yet; though I knew he wouldn't be long. As I stepped up behind my chair, Steve turned to me and said "Happy New Year". He lowered his face towards mine for a kiss. As I craned my head upwards to meet for a smooch, I felt his hand slide up my neck and embrace the back of my head. Before I had a chance to process, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to mine. At that angle, it was easy for him to force his tongue past my lips. The whole thing caught me off guard. I was so used to parting my lips for my husband; I instinctively opened my mouth and accepted his tongue.
He broke off our kiss and looked me in the eyes and said, "You are hot as hell"
Then he pulled my head back in for another kiss. The brief pause gave me the opportunity to clearly see that this was not my husband. But he was so good looking and when he pulled my face towards his, I titled my head so that our tongues could get even further into each other's mouths. That next kissed lasted much longer. I felt a wetness starting to flow into my panties. Thank you panty liners!!
The next thing I knew, I heard my husband's voice saying "Alright, you two. That will be enough of that. Go find your wife, Steve. I have plans for mine."
I felt a rush start from my toes and crash into my brain. Naturally I did the worst thing I could do. I jerked my head back and pushed Steve away, revealing that I knew what I was doing was wrong. Were I thinking clearly, I would have acted way drunk and said I thought I was kissing you baby. Instead, my guilt was painted all over my face as I turned to greet my husband. Oddly, rather than finding him grappling to get his gun out of his ankle holster, he smiled at me and took my face in his hands and kissed me long and deep.
New Year's Eve is a late night out for us and we typically wait to have sex until we wake up the next morning. This year would be an exception to that norm. He only had to ask once and I was on my back. We fucked for most of the night. At first, I was too drunk to cum. He was so amped up, he didn't have any problem. Next thing I knew, he had me rolled onto my side and started again. This time when he came, he just stayed inside me as we rested.
At some point, I realized we were awake again and he was pushing to get deeper inside me. After some sleep, the evening was now coming a little more clearly into focus. I recalled the good looking young man and the electricity he sent through my body. By the time my husband was fully hard and pressed into me as far as possible, I came twice. We just fucked like stupid people for the next hour or so. He made me cum several more times. Finally, he had one last orgasm and we went to sleep.
The next morning I felt a little weird, but he acted like nothing ever happened. As the day wore on, his normalness was killing me. It took him three drinks in before he was ready to spill. I braced for the worst. This amazing man was actually turned on by seeing me kiss Steve. The conversation for the rest of the evening was all about making me feel like I had done nothing wrong. I had some sexy fun and went home with my husband. We talked about our fantasy and we agreed it would remain just that.
Sex that night was completely different. It was slow and deliberate with a lot of kissing. I don't cum from intercourse often. Its happened a couple of times using fingers and once orally; most of the time I need the vibrator. He almost always goes until he cums. We had sex this night with both of us buried deeply in our heads. It was pleasurable, but neither one of us came, and, at some point, just decide to kiss and go to sleep. That was the last I heard of the New Year's Eve episode. We'd had quickies and marathon sex many times since then. He never mentioned it, and I certainly didn't bring it up. We seemed to have had come through what most couples would consider to be a near miss, unscathed.
We typically hang out at one of three haunts where everyone knows us and it's OK to get too drunk. We look out for each other and the soberest guy usually drives the drunker people home. Sometimes, however, we like to gather at some other places outside our community. One particular night we choose a place just on the other side of the highway that separates our community from the one next to us. The bar is just inside the door and there are pool tables, dart boards, and games throughout the rest of the place. While my husband ordered our drinks I surveyed our seating options. My eyes came to rest on a group of young men at a table near the bar. I locked eyes with one of them for a second but I quickly turned back to my husband as he was handing me my drink. We and our friends made our way through the bar and settled into a nook in the rear of the bar where the dart boards are.
I didn't give it much thought until I saw the young man and his friends take up residence at one of the pool tables in front of the nook area we were in. We had direct line of sight as they engaged in playing pool and returning to a cocktail table next to the pool table. We kept sneaking glances and busting each other as I struggled to remember from where we knew each other. Then it hit me, it was Steve from New Year's Eve. I felt I had already pushed that line as far as I dared, so I tried my best to stay engaged with our friends and forget he was there.
Once again, the drinks were going down quickly, and I caught myself steeling glances. He was so cute. He strutted around the pool table like only a young man can. I'm sure much of the bravado was for my benefit. I was trying to be inconspicuous, but he caught me several times. I tried my best to keep my eyes off of him, but it was soooo difficult. Before long, nature took its course. After six or seven rum and Cokes, it was time for me to excuse myself and I headed for the restroom. This bar only has one, dual gender, restroom. I locked the door behind me as it closed, did my business, washed my hands, and returned to the door. As soon as I released the lock, the door pushed open. My husband and I once had sex in that restroom during a drunken event, so I expected to see him seeking a repeated performance.
