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Sometimes when relating the stories of “picking up the straights” we feel a little bad, a little dirty—like we’re taking advantage of people. The fact is we’re very cautious really. We have “picked up” some strangers and some acquaintances and also turned a couple friends into swingers (at least for the night), and yes, there is a sort of excitement that goes along with the conversion process. We never force people, though. Even if we think they are leaning our direction because of alcohol, we just say no (really, we say nothing at all). We just wait for things to happen. Some nights the people and the mood are there; some nights no. The fact is, though, that lots of people are willing. Lots of people are looking for a good time. Lots really want no strings sex. They just aren’t ready to seek it. They need to be found. One evening, we found two and came up with quite the foursome. We were sitting and drinking at our local bar. So many stories start that way. We never know who will stop by our table. We do have a couple local swinger friends who stop by, but mostly it is our bar acquaintances (and sometimes, unfortunately, people we know from work). There have probably been times we have “said too much” or acted a little too wildly, but we usually keep it to our little corner. And in a crowded bar, that’s nearly the same as a private room. Nearly. At any rate, this evening, various people came and went. An old friend of ours, Jo, stopped in to see us. We hadn’t seen her in a couple months, so we were excited to catch up on her always dramatic and entertaining life. She was between boyfriends. Aww. She had moved away and was now back. We had known her for a few years. For whatever reason, regardless of who her boyfriend was, she chose to hang out with us. She had been around us so much, with so many people, that our lifestyle was probably obvious to her. She had revealed porn stories to us and even a recent lesbian encounter during her last relationship. Even if she didn’t “know about us,” she seemed comfortable (in all ways) around us. I suppose I should mention that she is 24, very slender, has a perpetually happy face, and a seductive voice. Then our friend, Matt, the Army guy came by. (See The Pick-Up). Jo didn’t seem to like him too much, but she smiled and tolerated him. She talked mostly with me. As the evening progressed, and people came and went, somehow, I had asked Jo if she knew what we were into and she said yes. Around the same time, Matt had determined that we all needed to go to the strip club. I believe there was also some mutual groping all around. So we left at around midnight. We invited another friend who had a big crush on Jo to go with us (she was even staying at his house), but he declined. Four of us on the way to the strip club. We got into the car and nothing needed to be said. I got Jo in the front seat with me by joking that Jayme and Matt should get in the back seat in case they wanted to make out. The strip club was only thirteen miles away. I wish I could remember all of the details during the car ride there. It was exciting enough that much of it blends together. I know people wonder what to say or how things get going, so I usually put in those sorts of details. Frankly, so many things just happened in the car ride that no one really could be pegged as The Instigator. I do remember jokingly playing around with the rear view mirror so I could see what was “going on back there.” Nothing was going on back there. Jo called me a dirty old man and laughed. Jayme said something about giving me something to look at and scotched next to him. The tinder was dry and the spark content high, because a couple jokes later and the windows were starting to fog. Jo’s hand gravitated over to my lap. There were moans in the back seat. Those two were making out. Jayme had his pants undone.
The action in the back seat seemed to get Jo going. She began massaging me through my pants. I pulled off the highway onto a little back road. Jo and I began making out immediately despite the discomfort of the stick shift between us. My hand was between her legs as well. In the back seat, Jayme had Matt’s dick in her mouth. Then an odd thing happened. Matt said, “I thought we were going to the strip club.” Really. We laughed. He said he really wanted to go. I said we could probably see more nudity if we turned around and went home. But he persisted. Perhaps he didn’t like roadsides. Hell, he may have needed to go to the bathroom. Who knows. We continued teasing and touching back on the road for the few minutes it took us to get to the strip club. It was an odd evening at the strip place (usually is at the one we went to—very small and not necessarily the highest quality in any way). There were two ok looking strippers, one of whom was a friend of Matt’s, the other who was Jo’s cousin. Small world. We had some drinks, had fun talking to the strippers, watched Jo’s discomfort when her cousin demanded to dance for her, and then it was closing time. The mood was good and even more sexual, if that is possible. On the way to the car, I suggested—don’t ask me why—that all of them get in the back seat. I would drive. “Now you can really be the dirty old man,” Jo said. It was probably true. No one refused. Before we were out of the parking lot, Jayme asked Matt if he would like a blow job. “No one has ever just asked me that,” he said. “Well?” she asked. “Of course,” he said. So we are off on the highway, Matt between the two girls with his pants down, Jayme blowing him and every so often making out with Jo. Jo’s hands went past Matt to Jayme. From my (bad) vantage point, there was a pretty good time being had in the back seat. A couple times, Jayme’s hand reached up to the front seat, but really she was doubly occupied already. These were just preliminaries, though, for what happened thirteen miles later, when we pulled into our driveway and came home. Well, that story will come soon. |
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