Sketches – Beads & Pearls Ch. 03

I stepped in to fill the void and handed Jess her next margarita. She ignored the glass and plastered herself against me; smacking me with the same luscious kiss she'd just given a stranger. There was more hooting and hollering as I felt the heat of her shared mouth, the pressure of her very wanted lips. All the numbness faded under pure sensation: her leaning against me, her mouth on mine, her warm, tight body pressing against my dick. It felt like we had to be crackling lightning.

We never would've done this at a bar at home. Not the flashing, obviously, but even the heavy kissing in public. Here, now, it wasn't inappropriate -- it was demanded. We came up for air and she leaned back against the stool. There were no more bouncing boobs, though, and no more kissers lined up. The crowd started turning away, calming down. Jess seemed relieved and disappointed at the same time.

I handed her the drink for real this time. She finished her first with a great big gulp, got throat freeze, and reached for the next. She grimaced as she took the full glass.

I still had to shout. "Hey, is there anything I can do to warm up your throat?"

She cocked an eyebrow at me. "I'm sure you've got ideas."

I glanced at the cowboy sitting next to her -- the one that had been staring the whole time. "I'm sure I'm not the only one."

Jess looked at the guy. He turned beet red and she crossed her arms. "You owe me two necklaces, mister!"

The cowboy cracked a nervous smile and held up a pile of beads. The accent was thick southern. "Sorry, ma'am, I don't have any pearls ready."

Jess dropped her jaw and stomped her foot. "What are you suggesting?"

"Ah. I, uh--" the guy stammered.

The folks around us tuned back in. The cowboy glanced at me, a little unsure, and I gave him the it's cool nod. He looked down and I could see a sigh of relief.

He was working on a comeback, but her hips weren't a foot from his face. He drank in her slender legs; then leaned just enough to steal a half-peek under her tennis skirt.

"That's three necklaces!"

He had a shit-eating grin as he shook his head. "I'm a little drunk, sweetheart, and you're kinda standing. As sweet as you look, I still don't think I could reach way up there. If you'd like to come down here..."

"Kneel on this floor? You've got to be kidding!"

Kneel? The cowboy's eyes flashed wide and mine did too. Is she serious?He glanced at her knees, the floor and the front door. His thoughts were flashing in liquid pearl. Is she saying she'll kneel somewhere else?

"Well," he drawled, "I suppose we could finish our drinks..."

Jess covered her mouth, shocked. I'm sure. She glanced at me for guidance but I was looking back at the crowd. From the faces I saw, most of these guys imagined her kneeling. By the time I turned back to her, she'd turned back to him.

What, exactly, was my little slut thinking? I tried a hip-to-hip nudge to get her attention, but with the crowd jostling, it came off as a groin poke. Shit. She stumbled toward him and I know she felt how hard I was. He caught her, hands on her hips, and she flashed me a coy, over-the-shoulder smile.

Jess plopped into his lap -- "Whoops!" -- trying not to spill her drink on the way down.

The cowboy steadied her, his right hand going across her like a seat belt. He saw the ring on her finger, then glanced to see if I had the same. I could see a calculation as his left hand landed on her bare thigh. He offered the seatbelt hand to me. "Brent!"

"Nick." We shook while the wife took great big gulps of margarita, playing oblivious to the hand creeping up her thigh. "...And this is Jessica."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." We traded a look -- he was still calculating.

His right hand went to her bare midriff and his thumb slid under the lip of her shirt. Not that anyone but me could see in this crush, but his left hand was in danger of disappearing up her very short skirt. At this point, I couldn't hide my smile.

Brent caught it. "You two are quite a couple!"

"We have a good time."

Brent scanned the crowd, nodding. "And you give a good time! Nick, you are a lucky man!"

Jessica stopped mid-sip and sucked in a deep breath. His right hand was still on her midriff but his left was hidden under her skirt. "Four necklaces..." She mumbled.

I couldn't believe it. Did he really...? I looked a little closer and... Holy Shit, he really did! I could see his forearm moving. Rhythmically. No, I could believe it, but I couldn't believe how bad I wanted to watch it happen.

Those full lips parted and she took another catching breath. Her legs spread, unconsciously, and her skirt slid up. Her g-string was pulled to the side, exposing pussy, and Brent was rubbing her clit.

Holy Fucking Shit. In my head, I knew it. I knew what was happening under the skirt, between the thighs, but seeing it... hit hard. My wife, my loving little slut, was putting on a show -- and I wanted to watch more than anything in the world.

Jess caught her breath and tried to cover with another sip. The guy next to me peeked down then did a double take. He elbowed his buddy and that guy almost fell over. They watched as discreetly as they could, which wasn't real discreet.

Brent noticed them, then looked at me. Is this okay? I glanced at Jessica's chest and shot him a nod. He took the cue, his right hand popping her shirt up, exposing her luscious tits.

Jess glanced up. She was looking for my reaction, but she instantly noticed the other guys. Brent was rolling a nipple between his fingers, and I seemed to be okay with it, so she played it cool. As the cowboy fondled both clit and tit, she caressed his breast hand and took another long draw off her massive margarita.

After a deep breath, Jessica arched her back, pushing her swaying boobs into Brent's hands. It was white hot -- a good distraction as she brought her legs a little closer. Maybe she'd played it too cool before? As she sipped, she pulled her skirt back over the cowboy's hand. Not that it hid much.

It was a good thing it was so dark, and a good thing she was sitting. If everyone saw this... I don't know. I'm pretty sure only the three of us could see -- but it felt like the whole world might be watching. Part of me hoped it was. I do know her second massive margarita was more than half gone.

Brent adjusted between her thighs. Jessica hunched over a little and tried to take another sip but all she could do was bite her lip. Her tits started jiggling as he picked up the pace. She started panting and her thighs seemed to relax. Her gaze was lost in the tequila as she ignored the crush of people forming our human wall.

After a minute, it seemed like she hit a plateau. She closed her eyes in calm bliss as she started sipping again. Her half-naked body rocked to the rhythm as she drained the last of her drink.

Her breathing started picking up. Her eyes flickered open and she lofted her empty glass. Take it. The guy next to me took it, their hands touching, and Jess smiled at him. She was bringing her audience closer.

Jessica glanced at her other voyeur then looked at me with eyes wide, demanding my attention. She tilted her head down and my gaze followed. As I looked, she opened her legs and her skirt slid back up over Brent's hand. The cowboy had two fingers half-buried in her pussy.

God-- I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. All I could do was feel -- and I felt ready to swat his hand aside and fuck her where she sat.

I glanced around. The bouncers had no clue, though the two guys beside me were staring slackjawed. With a little space now, Brent pulled out to the fingertips and circled her very wet, very open pussy. You see this? You know what she needs? A beat later, he plunged those fingers right to the knuckle.

Jessica's legs fell wide open. No more playing it cool. Brent followed her lead and didn't hold back. His whole arm shook as his fingers pistoned deep. Her tits really started bouncing and she braced her hands on her bare, open legs. It was only his hand, but she was definitely being fucked.

The guys next to me couldn't tear their eyes away. Both of them were adjusting constantly -- and she was starting at their crotches. I knew the next steps, I could see it already: Jessica fingered on Brent's lap, giving head to a pair of strangers in public. These two could feel it -- they were on the verge of pulling their dicks out.

Should I? My God, I'd never wanted her to suck my cock more than I wanted it right now. She was pure sex. I don't think we'd ever even fantasized this far, this public, but here it was, happening. Do it!

My brain couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. My imagination was already sprinting ahead, strobing flashes of fantasy, maybe predictions. I could see Jessica reaching behind her, pulling Brent's dick from his pants, sliding her pussy down his pole. I saw her reverse riding him as she switched back and forth, blowing the three of us. I wanted to see it; I wanted to watch my beautiful slut. I wanted to watch the crowd watch her. I wanted to see cum already dripping from her face as she wrapped her lips around my cock.

Stop. Not smart. I did not want to get thrown in the drunk tank.

Fuck her now! I ran my hand over my crotch but I was afraid I'd come if I pulled it out. Drunk tank, asshole. I shook my head. You can push this higher -- enjoy it longer. Could I? Would she? Look at her. There was no question. I would take her somewhere, another alcove in the shadows...

Jessica locked eyes with me as she held her breath. A second later, her chest heaved and her legs snapped shut around Brent's hand. Her mouth was open in a silent sigh and I think there was a tear in her eye -- but we never broke gaze.

Wow.

I tried to put words to what we just shared but it wasn't working. Jessica couldn't really breathe right now, much less say anything.

She took a moment, leaning against the cowboy's shoulder. "Never mind; I owe you a necklace."

Brent smiled. His left hand was her new panties, still locked between her thighs. His right hand was gently caressing the hang of her naked boobs. "Hey, for all the imaginations you fired tonight, I had to give a little back."

Yeah, that's nice. "The cowboy is a gentleman." I held my hand out to my wife. We need to go and I need to come. After a second to catch her breath, Jessica reached up and took it. Once on her feet, the crowd suddenly woke up as they noticed the Magnificent Rack was back. There wasn't even time for a bell to ring as she pulled her shirt back down. I could hear murmurs all around, everybody pretty sure they must've just missed something. The four of us; the two voyeurs, Brent and me, were the only ones close enough to see her little tennis skirt once again hide the Promised Land.

Brent nodded and squinted at the both of us. "Does this mean you're leavin'?"

"Yes it does." One voyeur's shoulders slumped; the other was still keeping eye contact with my wife's tits. "Jess, give the man a memento to remember you by."

Jessica blinked for a second but she found my wavelength. She glanced around, pulled up her skirt, and pulled down her panties in one smooth move. There was the briefest flash of pussy, then she draped her damp g-string over his wet hand.

I started to pull her hand, but I had a vision, a flashback of imagination. I wanted to see cum already dripping from her face as she wrapped her lips around my cock. I glanced at my sweet, slut wife and she smiled at me. It was the same smile I saw before we climbed into the cab last night. Yeah, she will. I leaned closer to the cowboy. "You still owe her a necklace, bud."

Brent lit up like a man receiving salvation. "A pearl necklace...?"

"Definitely no beads. Meet us..." Shit. Where? "...Two blocks north in five minutes."

He started repeating the directions but I didn't wait to see if he got it. I pulled Jessica's hand and we made our way toward the door. As we closed on the exit, people started clapping -- and Jess turned and waved.

"One more!" "Don't go!" "Marry me!"

Jess put a fingertip in her mouth, thinking about it. A second later, she lifted her shirt one last time. There was a rain of beads. I pulled Jessica past the bouncers and I got claps on the back as we left.

The night air hit us like a polar blast. Jess shivered a second, then quickly adjusted. It wasn't that it was so cold outside, it was that it was so hot inside.

We made distance in silence, power-walking half a block before we slowed down. It felt like we were perps, leaving the scene of a crime.

Jess looked back over shoulder, her finger back in her mouth. "Did we go too far?"

"We're only a half block away."

She hit me.

"We have another block and a half to go."

"Are you serious?"

"Sure. Yes. Wait. About what?"

She pointed back towards the pub. "Two blocks north."

"I thought I said two blocks but I'm kinda scattered. What did I say?"

"No. I mean... about a pearl necklace!" She blinked at me as the words hung in the air. "I mean; I want to. I really want to... but do you want me to?"

"Definitely." Really? I don't know. Jeezuz! Yes. The answer was 'yes'. "...Is that wrong?"

Jess put the contemplative finger back in her mouth, seriously thinking about it. She shook her head with just a hint of a smile. "Am I your whore now?"

"Huh?" Did she really just say that?

We dodged drunk pedestrians and I rolled her words over in my head. I felt pimptastically guilty, but I did set it up and she was willing. My wife = my whore? It was as if the words shared the same "w." God forgive me but I liked the symmetry. "Baby, you're the whore that I adore."

That hint broke into a full grin. "What happens on Mardi Gras stays in Mardi Gras?"

"Definitely."

We crossed the street, threading slow moving traffic, and Jessica got a whistle. The guy was on the far side, but she flashed him anyway. He almost fell over.

We were just past the two-block mark and we stopped by a very dark, very quiet alley. I was ready to pull her into the darkness, find another alcove like we'd found on our first night here. Keep her for myself. Let the fantasies stay fantasies. I took one step--

"Nick! Jessica!"

I turned to see the cowboy jogging to catch up to us. The other two voyeurs were right behind him. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. I wasn't sure if it was good or bad that I didn't immediately know if it was good or bad.

The cowboy glanced behind, annoyed, then back to us. "Are we still on?"

I had visions of Jess doing all of us, but I had to keep control. I pointed at Brent's followers as they caught up. "You didn't."

"Naw, I didn't." Brent thumbed toward the pair. "The guys... well, they heard. I guess it's up to you two."

One of the voyeurs raised his hands, looking for forgiveness. The other shrugged like a lost puppy, ready to go with anything. "Hey, I'll just watch, fetch coffee, whatever."

My wife looked at me with the tiniest head tilt, like she was asking permission. Little slut. I glanced between them and said it with my eyes: your call.

Jessica bit her lip as she considered it. I saw a glint flash from her hand -- she was playing with her wedding ring.

A mature, dick-shriveling wave of responsibility washed over me. Concerns of condoms, disease and stalker weirdos were a total buzz kill. I cocked an eyebrow and pointed around the group. "Who's done this before? Or anything like it?"

Everybody glanced around, looking for somebody more experienced. Why did this feel so familiar? The memory shook itself out of my noggin: we'd actually shared a fantasy like this one time. I shook my head and held up my hand. "Us either. Right time, right place. We're married, she's on the pill, so we don't even carry condoms. Are you guys... clean?"

They seemed ecstatic at the mere suggestion something might happen. I saw nods all around. "Yeah." "Nothing here." "I'm healthy."

It was really stupid, as if I'd ever know, but I scanned each of them. I didn't see heroin tracks, or missing teeth or gaunt faces. It seemed safe. "Okay. I'm not giving any of you do's or don'ts. What the lady says, goes. Cool?"

"Yeah." "Of course." "No problem."

All eyes shifted to Jess, who was still playing with her wedding ring. My wife blew me a kiss, then reached out to shake the hand of the closest voyeur. He was the taller one that took her margarita glass. As their hands touched, I swear her kiss hit me like a delayed shockwave. "I'm Jessica."

"I'm--"

"No," Jess cut him off. "Don't tell me. It's better that way."

Wha...? Kinky.

The other guy reached out. "Hello Jessica."

She shook his hand and smiled. She had that smile; her eyes were warm and wanton. It was an invite. "Hi."

Jessica glanced both ways down the sidewalk, making sure nobody else was watching. When the coast was clear, she slipped into the alley. Her hips were swaying like a snake charmer. We all just stood and watched like idiots as she disappeared into the shadows.

Once she was out of earshot, I turned to the other guys. "Okay, what are your names?"

The taller one was straining to see into the dark. He looked at me and offered a hand. "James." The shorter, slightly stockier one followed suit. "Vince."

"You guys know each other?"

Vince shook his head. "Not before an hour ago."

I clapped him on the back. "Amazing what wine and women can do, ain't it?"

"Women like that, yeah."

James adjusted his pants and glanced into the dark. I could see some worry under the excitement. "This is pretty intense, man. You sure you're okay with it?"

"I dunno. Never done it before. So far, though, so good."

I trotted into the shadows and the other three followed. In just a few steps, it got real dark. There was still a city glow over our heads, and party noise in the distance, but I couldn't see 2 feet in front of me. I kept my hands out, staggering around trashcans and milk crates. Score one for public works, though; at least it didn't smell like an alley. Still, I wondered just how my drunken wife had managed to get so far without tripping. 40 yards into the darkness, I got a "Pssst!"

There was a dimly lit alcove some 20 yards in the distance but Jessica's voice was just over my shoulder. I turned and could tell my eyes were adjusting; I could just barely make out her face. "Whew. Starting to think I'd lost you."

"If I had panties," she whispered, "I'd throw them at you."

"Good thing you don't." I looked hard through the darkness, seeing only brick walls and a 'NO LOADING' sign. The three guys were catching up to us. "What did ya have in mind?"

I could see her point at the lighted alcove. "Go see if there's anybody there. If it's safe, call me over."

"Gotcha."

I walked over to the alcove -- and the guys fell in behind me. The recess had a dim, single bulb light behind a safety basket. There were no markings on the door, but there was a doorbell. I listened at the door but couldn't hear anything. Two rings of the doorbell and we waited, all four of us looking around like it was a private eye convention. 30 seconds later, still no answer. We're clear. I whistled.

Jess emerged from the shadows a moment later -- stark naked and carrying a milk crate. "Nice." "Ohhhoho -- wow." "Ohmygahd."

A milk crate?

Her clothes were folded over her arm and she slid between us to set the heavy plastic crate in the middle of the alcove. She put her clothes right in front of the crate and crooked a finger at Brent. "You owe me a necklace."