The Twenty Year Itch

I still hadn't told anyone about my decision, but I intended to dress as sexy as I could on 'girl's night out' and see what happened. If he tried to hit on me, like he usually did I intended to make him put up or shut up.

In keeping with my plan I left the house the next Friday with a strapless red dress that barely reached my knees and a pair of matching three inch heels, all carefully packed in a bag. I wore a support bra that made the girls look perky and red bikini panties that didn't keep many secrets. When I checked the mirror before I got into my work clothes, I had to nod in approval. My bush and camel's foot was obvious, and I knew when I got excited the blood engorged labia would make it even more obvious.

Sid was waiting by the door that morning—waiting to kiss bye as we always did. It was the last chance to tell Sid about my wanting to date. I chickened out about telling him about the date and in fact I almost lost my nerve about giving in to temptation. I think I would have, had I not remembered he'd almost surely done the same years ago, and it had worked out good for both of us. Like Pat always claimed, the same old thing for twenty years had to get old for the man also.

So instead of the speech I'd rehearsed I simply said, "I might be a little late tonight, but don't worry."

SID CONTINUES THE NARRATIVE:

I never did get around to saying anything to April about David groping her. To tell the truth, I kept remembering that I wasn't squeaky clean either. Sure, I know how one thing leads to another; heck I read Letters to Penthouse just like a lot of men. A few weeks ago, I'd even caught April reading my latest copy. When I looked over her shoulder, I could see she was reading about women stepping out.

One night we'd read a story together about a wife who asked her husband to let her date. The damn fool did and she wound up bringing her date home where the husband watched them and he even complied with the bull's demand to clean her snatch up afterwards.

"Would you do that, Honey?" I remember her asking.

"Hell No!" We continued reading without further comment. "Would you ask me to do anything like that?" I asked after we finished the story.

"I'd never humiliate you like that, Honey." She pulled my face to her until our lips touched. After a moment of tender kissing, she added, "I'd also kick the shit out of anyone who tried to treat you like that."

Anyway we had been enjoying some of the best sex ever back then and I guess I didn't want to do anything that would prevent more of that, so I tried to put it out of my mind. I did get a little antsy each girls-night-out Friday but it wasn't too bad. I guess it helped a lot that my shop foreman Mark's wife seemed to have something to do on the identical Fridays, so he started inviting me to hang with him.

He was hooked on porn and had a good collection and a place to watch and drink beer. Since I had nothing else to do, I'd go over and watch with him. After watching one really hot video, I called him into my office the next Monday.

"Mark, that last video we saw Friday night was different. It didn't seem to be as polished as the others. Where did you find it?"

"What's the matter, Boss? Didn't you like it?"

"That's not it at all, it was really good." I hesitated before finishing; I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. "I think I'd like to get some like that to see if April would watch it with me. You know, things had been hot for awhile, but they're cooling down now. Maybe she'd take a hint; the girl in that video seemed down to earth—you know, like a regular woman, not like a pro.

"I know what you mean Boss." He was grinning like the cat that just spotted the crippled bird. "Hell, it was still sexy with the woman's face blurred out."

"Yeah. I wonder why they did that." One look at Mark's face said he knew something he was dying to reveal.

"If I tell you, Boss, you gotta swear you'll never mention it to anyone."

"Sure, mum's the word."

"No shit, Boss. This is serious—you know Big Mac, who runs that place called The Club?"

I nodded.

"He's my brother-in-law but he's one mean SOB and he wouldn't take kindly to anyone ratting out his racket."

After I assured him I would keep quiet, he told me a story that was hard to believe. It seemed Mac had a room fixed up in the back of the club where a couple of the town's studs would bring women they picked up. The women had no idea they were on camera, but the men were in on everything. That way they could guide the best camera angles.

Then he dropped the bombshell. "They blur the faces because many of the gals are local wives, who would raise hell if they knew about such videos floating around. This way, nobody knows who the women are—and even If they were to run across a video they recognized as something they did, they couldn't prove it."

"Holy Crap!" Suddenly my dark side took over. "Damn, I'd like to watch that operation." Then I remembered the time April took me to a back room. "Uh...you don't know if there are cameras in that back storage room he leaves unlocked, do you?"

Apparently surprised, he asked, "How the dickens do you know about that room? Don't tell me you took a girl there?"

"More like one took me." I went on to give him a thumbnail sketch of April hauling me back there that night.

"Naw, that's strictly for horny customers. Saves em from tying up the bathrooms and keeps em on the premises afterwards. If they had to leave to grab a room, they wouldn't be buying any more booze the rest of the night. So relax, you don't need to worry about showing up on the late show in the neighborhood."

Mark seemed to be in deep thought. He and I had been together since I first opened and I knew he didn't like keeping secrets from me. He looked at his watch, before he spoke. "I can arrange that for tonight, but you gotta agree to the rules." He went on to explain that we had to be in the observation room before eleven and once everything was in place, the doors were locked and nobody left until all the actors cleared the place. Big Mac wanted no one to upset anything about his applecart.

That seemed reasonable and we were on our way. At ten fifty-five we had entered the Club through a back door and were comfortably seated before a wall sized two way mirror. Tonight only Mark and I seemed to be invited, but since there were six chairs in the room, I guessed the crowd was sometimes larger.

Oh boy, I thought, what would April think if she knew about what's going on where she and the girls like to hang out.

"Just about time," Mark glanced at his watch before pulling two cold Coors from a nearby cooler. He passed one to me and popped the other open. He must have swilled down at least half before he emitted an enormous belch and said, "Showtime."

I sipped mine, since I really am not much of a drinker, and watched, eager not to miss anything. The room on the other side of the mirror would have been at home in a high priced motel. A king sized bed filled its center while the usual chest of drawers and nightstand were in their normal places. A writing desk, three chairs, and what looked like a forty two inch TV completed the furnishings. I could see it also had a small closet and a bathroom, just like the last Mayflower I had stayed for a night.

"All right!" I said when the entrance door opened and a man and woman almost fell into the room. It looked like they couldn't wait, because their lips were locked together, and she was hanging around his neck with both arms, while her red dress's hem was almost to her waist. His hands were massaging her buns and trying to pull her softness as tightly against his raging hard-on as he could.

"Damn, that's David," I muttered when his face turned, allowing me a good look at his face. A moment later the woman's face was toward the camera and I felt sick.

APRIL CONTINUES THE NARRATION:

I almost chickened out when I kissed Sid bye. He looked so unsuspecting; he didn't have a clue. I guess that was a good description on my Sid. He had no idea I knew about his affair, he had no idea I wanted to have an affair of my own...he was simply clueless. I think maybe that's what made him so sweet. I knew he was knocking himself out trying to come up with an anniversary gift, and I suspected he still hadn't come up with anything.

Just two weeks ago he'd asked me what I wanted again. I wondered what he'd say if I'd told him the truth—that what I really wanted was to go on a date just once more. I still didn't have the guts to tell him what I wanted, but I decided to take pity on him. Since I was going to get what I really wanted anyway, as I went out the door I said, "About that gift you were asking about, Honey—don't worry, I'll just pick something up myself and we'll say it's from you."

I could tell he was relieved when he thanked me. Now all I had to do was pick up something to wrap so he could give it to me at our anniversary party that the kids were planning.

When I arrived the Club was crowded. Our group had managed to snag our regular tables, despite the crowd. David jumped up when he saw me approach.

"Glad you made it," he greeted me with open arms. Resolved to follow through with my decision, I slipped into his arms offering my lips to him. Several of our crowd started with the catcalls as our kiss deepened. I could feel his hardness against me; I really didn't realize it was such a sizable bulge before.

I rubbed up hard against him as he grasped my buns and pulled me in close. "I ordered a bottle of your favorite wine." He said, as we broke apart and he guided me to a seat next to his.

"You really shouldn't have. You know I never drink that much."

"Well, hell, the other ladies will help, I'm sure. In fact Pat already tested it. She said she wanted to make sure it was what you liked."

"Aw yes, Pat...good ole Pat." I murmured. "What would we do without her?" I couldn't understand my resentment of her—but I did resent her at this moment. I suppose it must have had something to do with my reservations about what I'd vowed to do. Without a doubt, if I'd never met Pat I wouldn't be about to screw another man, but I knew I was being unfair.

Pat wasn't making me do this; I was doing it of my own free will. If I was honest with myself, I'd been thinking about how making love to another man would feel for a long time before I ever met Pat. No, not making love—fucking another man—and doing it just to see how it felt. Sid was the man I loved...the only man I'd ever wanted to love, but still...

Everybody was in a good mood tonight. In fact, it seemed just about all us girls was horny. Was it something in the water? More than ever men were coming over to ask one or the other of us to dance, and where usually they'd be turned down, tonight my friends were accepting the offers. As the night wore on I spotted more than one of them with their partners hand under their dresses, rubbing on forbidden flesh.

I was kept busy by David. On the slow numbers I'd feel his hard rod punching on my lower abdomen, with the difference in our heights it hit just above my mons. God, it felt good. When we were at the table he kept a hand slowly stroking my inner thighs. The way his fingers, which would stop just short of my labia, maybe just brushing the curly hair before retreating back down toward my knees, were driving me wild. He'd grin every time I'd try to shift my hips to make his finger go where I wanted it.

"I got big plans for us tonight," he whispered, when his roving finger slipped under my panties leg band and slid up and down my slick grove.

"Arrrggghh, that's good." I couldn't help moaning and pushing against his finger. "We better be quick, though. I can't be too much later than usual getting home."

"Don't worry, baby; we're going to party right here."

"You can't be serious. You expect me to give it to another man for the first time in that stupid storage room?"

"Nope—just trust me. I promise you'll like the room I have for us."

That didn't make much sense to me, but when a second finger joined the first and started probing deeply, I spread my legs farther apart to give him better access. After a short while of him shoving them in me, while twisting and touching my special spot, I'd have screwed him right there on the table—almost.

"You better hurry and take me to this room you're talking about, before I rape you right here," I whispered, while I flicked my tongue in his ear. Good thing everybody else was dancing, because I didn't realize it was one of his hotspots. He grabbed my hand, pulling it down to his crotch.

"Work it, baby," he begged, when my fingers wrapped around his cock. "Oh yeah—that's the way sugar," he moaned and humped my hand while I stroked his meat. Then he abruptly pulled my hand away and stood, pulling me to my feet also. "Come on, let's go to the back. If we stay out here, I'm gonna mess up my clothes."

He led me to the back and down a long hall, finally stopping in front of a door with a card reader lock, like you see at motels. Obviously he had this planned, although I don't understand how he could be so sure I'd pick this night to play. About that time the nagging thought entered my mind that he wasn't counting on me being a willing participant. There are a lot of ways to convince a woman to give it up, and alcohol was just the more common.

All such thoughts fled moments later, when he started kissing and fondling me again. We were locked in a passionate embrace when he pushed the door open and we almost fell into the room. After we recovered our balance, he scooped me up and deposited me on the bed. I got a quick look around as he stripped his clothes off like someone had soaked them in Habanero juice. It looked like we were in a motel, except the room was awfully bright.

I started to ask him to dim the lights when he stripped me naked from the waist down with one deft motion. Then pulling me to a sitting position, he had my dress off before I hardly realized it. Pushing my legs apart, he put his face down in my hairy crotch. When he ran his tongue ran along my slit, stopping to tease my clit along the way, I forgot all about the bright lights. I just caught both hands in his hair and tried to pull his face right into my steaming cunt.

"Loosen up!" I finally realized he was struggling against my hands, and relaxed just a little. "Durn April, you gotta let me breathe." After that he just tickled my little man with his tongue, while using two fingers and to stimulate my g-spot. He kept at it until I was screaming and shuddering as my climax racked my body.

He gave me a moment for my racing heart to calm down—a moment he spent kissing on my nipples, teasing them until they were standing at attention like solders. When I rubbed the back of my hand across his clean shaven cheeks, he immediately turned me flat on my back before pulling my legs up so he could hook one across each of his shoulders. Using one hand to support himself and the other to guide his cock on to its target, he shoved it home with one hard stroke.

That damn thing must have been bigger than it looked, for I screamed out in pain, It was a good thing I was well lubricated from our foreplay, otherwise I'm not sure I'd have been able to enjoy things at all. As it was, I didn't see where it was all that great...that is unless you got a kick out of getting a two by four shoved in and out of you.

I'm serious; as good as David was at cunnilingus, he didn't know jack about pleasing a woman with his oversized cock. His idea of fucking was to just keep driving his cock in and out as hard as he could. He was long enough to hit my cervix and it was uncomfortable. "Not so hard or deep, baby," I said, "you're not screwing a cow here."

Apparently he thought he was. He kept right on pumping in and out while constantly saying such crap as, "Like that Baby? Good, ain't it? Bet your old man never did this to you, did he?"

Bragging about how much better he was than Sid started pissing me off, but I reasoned that I was doing this for a purpose and I should get the most from the experience. I'd read someplace that many well equipped men just didn't realize they needed something besides size. I tried to make some gentle suggestions, but he was so sold on himself it was like pouring water on a duck's back. He'd change for just a little while and we'd work up a rhythm, but as soon as it got to feeling really good, he'd shove hard, hit bottom and cause enough pain that I'd lose my excitement.

Damn, I'd read once that a lady should always let a man think he was doing a good job, but the best I could do for David was to try to not roll his ass off me. I decided to remain quiet and let him convince himself he was a world champion stud. I also decided this 'try another man' crap was for the birds. While David was doing what he seemed to think was fucking me like 'I'd never been fucked before' all I could think of was Sid and how I'd like to have him on me right now.

I'll give David this—he had staying power. Like the "Energizer Bunny" he just kept going and going. Several times I could feel my body start up 'climax-mountain' but each time he'd get carried away and slam it to the bottom so hard it hurt and instead of reaching a peak, I'd tumble back to square one. After long enough he finally got in the short rows, the long slow, deep strokes became short fast jabs, he was breathing like he'd just run a mile and I could feel him start to pulse and his cum spurted against my cervix.

David rolled off of me and in minutes he was snoring. Good, I thought, this girl is going to get her drawers on and head for home. Let the stud sleep and dream of his next conquest. Before I finished dressing David was awake and talking.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Home!" I continued dressing.

"Home huh? Can't wait to tell that wimpy husband what it feels like to get fucked by a real man, huh? I'll bet that little cuckold never fucked you like that."

"What do you mean, calling Sid a cuckold?"

"Well. I'm here getting his pussy and he ain't. That's a cuckold, ain't it?"

How in hell did I ever think this asshole was charming? I must have been out of my head. I was getting just about enough of him. By now his dong had gotten back to half-staff. He stroked his proud flesh openly, trying to impress me I guess.

"Come on, baby. If you didn't like that time, at least give it one more chance to please."

"To please me? That thing isn't even standing straight up—what are you going to do—put a splint on it, maybe?" I was definitely getting enough of Mister David.

"No splint...just you put it in that sweet mouth—you'll see what it can do. You owe it to yourself to have one last fling before you go back to that little cocked wimp you're married to."

Okay...enough is enough, I decided. This asshole was begging for it. Striking what I thought would be my sexist pose; I pulled my dress back off, leaving me in only my skimpy red panties and a matching bra that strained to contain the girls. David's face immediately lit up and he scooted down in bed, lifting his hips while still trying to coax his pride and joy back to life.

I did what I thought should qualify as 'slithered'over to him. "Here, let somebody whose qualified to do it get this little boy back to looking like a man." I replaced his hand with my own. Putting an index finger to my lips, I wet it with saliva and took my time about bringing it down to rub over his glans.

"Uh! Oh yeah, baby!" He hunched his hips up as I held and pretended to admire his cock.

I licked my tongue across my lips and gently took his large sac in my right hand—the one with the strongest grip. Working on those cars had developed Sid's grip and he picked at me about having a grip like a girl. That, and as part of our judo training, resulted in me squeezing a ball as we watched TV, so while I might not have been able to squeeze anything as hard as Sid, I felt sure David would soon testify that my grip was pretty good—for a girl.