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The Hoedown
22/08/2009
Hi, Dan and Vicky here, again. I’ve told Vicky about me writing these stories about our nights out “playing”. She read them, got hot, fucked me, and decided she wanted me to write some more. She reminded me of a time last year when we decided to go to a new country bar in the city. This was some time after the “John’s Night Out” story. By now, she had fucked several guys at different times while I watched.

I should point out that this isn’t something we do every day or even every week. Maybe once every month or so Vicky will say, “Let’s go out and play on Friday night.” Then I know she’s up for a little hot adventure. Most weekends, we go out, have dinner and a few drinks, then go home to fuck. If we aren’t too close to home, she might expose herself a little, since she never wears panties or a bra, but she doesn’t always get involved with the guys.

I also was asked by someone where we lived and if the “town” I talk about and the “city” I talk about are the same thing. First, we live in the Northeast part of the country. We live in a small ranch-style house in the country. There are two neighbors directly across the street (actually, across the “road”) and a few homes scattered on either side of us. However, we don’t live in a town or in an actual “development”.

There is a small town, maybe 50,000 people about 15 driving minutes to the southwest of us and a large city about 40 minutes east of us. Most of our friends and neighbors spend their weekends at the local bar about 2 miles away or drive into the town. Unless it’s a special event, almost no one around here drives into the city to go out. Vicky and I like to go to the city when she wants to “play” because we’re pretty sure we won’t be seen by anyone we know. This gives us a little more anonymity and Vicky gets more daring, especially after a few margaritas.

This night Vicky suggested that we go to a new country bar, the Hoedown, that she read about in the Sunday paper. It opened 3 or 4 weeks ago and seemed to draw a good size crowd. It had live bands on the weekend. It was completely on the other side of the city from us, so we decided to get a room. As it turns out, the bar is directly beside a hotel, so I booked a room there on Friday night.

Some friends had asked us to Happy Hour at the local bar (called, “D.C.’s”) and we went down there about 5 o’clock. Vicky decided to wear her cowboy boots, a denim skirt that came about halfway down her thighs, and a semi-sheer pink blouse with a denim vest over it so people couldn’t actually see her boobs through the blouse. All she needed was a cowboy hat and spurs. Actually, she has both, but decided not to wear them that night. We both had overnight bags in the car trunk.

Since I knew we were driving to the city later, I only ordered a beer, and spent plenty of time sucking slowly on that. Vicky, of course, ordered a double margarita. She had to settle for Cuervo, since D.C.’s didn’t stock something as “upscale” as Patron. But she managed to drink several of them in the 3 hours we were there. Since her skirt was so short, I’m sure she may have provided a pussy shot or two to the guys sitting around us, but she didn’t make any intentional moves to do so. Hey, this is our neighborhood. It’s one thing to be known as a really hot wife in the neighborhood – it’s another to have people think you’re a slut.

We had a good time. Most of our friends were somewhere between Vicky’s age and mine. She’s 29 and I’m 40. They’re married, some have kids, and I believe in all cases, both the husband and wife work. So, our talk at Happy Hour was about fixing up the house, the idiot boss at work, and the problems the kids were causing. Sounds boring, I know, but these are our friends. If it’s important in their lives, it’s important to us. About seven, the first couple left. After that, every 10 or 15 minutes someone else would get up and head for home. Finally the only two couples left were Vicky and I and the neighbors across the street, Tom and Cindy.

Cindy is cute, about 35, a little over weight, but not actually “fat”. Tom is in fair shape and also about 35. They were high school sweet hearts and have been married for about 15 years. They have two kids, a boy around 8 and a 13 year old daughter. Not to be weird about it, but I’d bet money I don’t have that the daughter will soon be a handful. I’ve seen her waiting on the school bus in skirts shorter than Vicky’s and she’s always surrounded by all the boys at the bus stop. She’s a little Hottie-in-Training!

Tom asked what we were doing this weekend and I said, “Not much. We’re going to go out and get something to eat tonight and maybe go to see Vicky’s mother in the morning.” The trip to Vicky’s mother was just a cover to explain why we weren’t home tomorrow morning. It was weak, but he caught me off guard.

Tom said he and Cindy were going to be doing yard work all weekend. Tom spends a lot of time in the front yard in the summer. Yes, it does look nice, but both Vicky and I believe he’s looking at her most of the time. Vicky tends to work in the yard in a bikini to get some sun. I’m sure she also doesn’t mind Tom looking at her. She lays out nude in the sun in the backyard and we suspect that Tom, who sometimes likes to take his dog for a walk in the woods behind our house, has seen her. But we can’t be sure.

We all left D.C.’s together, giving each other hugs in the parking lot. I noticed that Tom kissed Vicky on the lips. Just a peck, and I don’t think Cindy saw it. We headed for the freeway while Tom and Cindy drove home. As soon as we were out of the parking lot, Vicky hiked her skirt up to her waist and slowly started rubbing her pussy. This is something she often did when we drove to the city. I think it was her way of turning herself on without getting out of control. She drank several margaritas already and didn’t talk most of the way to the Hoedown. For a while her eyes were closed and I thought she may have fallen asleep, but her finger was still rubbing her pussy, so I assumed she was deep in thought. I didn’t ask what she was thinking about. I’m probably better off not knowing.

We got to the Hoedown and the parking lot was nearly full, but we found a parking space in the next to last row. Vicky pulled her skirt down and we got out of the car. I came around the car, looking at the people going into the bar. About half of them had on some sort of western-style dress. Most had boots on. Vicky threw her arms around me and kissed me hard, catching me off guard. When she broke off the kiss, she said, “I love you. You know that don’t you?”.

“Of course,” I replied. “I know you love me. And I love you, too.”

She looked into my eyes, kissed me again, and said, “I want to get fucked by some stranger tonight. I hope you can understand that.”

I told her I understood and that I didn’t ever doubt her love. Then she pulled off her rings and put them into a little pocket on the inside of the little shoulder purse she was carrying. I hadn’t seen her do that before, and it did bother me a little. But I figured she’d have fewer problems with other guys if she didn’t have to explain the rings on her finger.

She said that she noticed that most of the skirts were at least as short as hers, so she rolled the top of her skirt over once to pull it up another couple of inches. She was wearing a wide belt that went around her waist but wasn’t threaded through any of the belt loops, so this covered the roll in the skirt. It had a big silver buckle with the letter, “V”, on the front. She looked hot. But then, she always looked hot, no matter what she had, or didn’t have, on.

We entered the bar. There was a $10.00 cover charge, so I handed the guy at the door a twenty. The place was packed. The band had already started playing, so the dance floor was jammed with bodies. There was no room to actually dance; people were just sort of moving in beat to the music. The band sounded really good.

We were still looking around for a place to sit, when some guy, who obviously had been there a while, sort of staggered up to Vicky and asked her to dance. She gave me a little smiling glance and said, “Sure.” Off they went.

I pushed my way to the bar and ordered a beer. I decided to wait on Vicky’s drink. I knew she’d want a margarita, but since I wasn’t sitting, I didn’t have any place to put it until she came back. I got my five dollar beer and moved back out to where I could see the dance floor. At first I didn’t see Vicky at all. The lights were really dim in the bar, especially on the dance floor.

The band finished one song and started another. As people moved on and off the dance floor between songs, I saw Vicky and her friend. They were now at the front of the dance floor, near the band. When the band started the next song, they started dancing again. Like everyone else on the dance floor, they were basically just moving against each other with the music. As they danced, Vicky put her hands up and over the guy’s shoulder, in a sort of loose embrace. He put his hands low on her hips and pulled her tighter against him. Vicky responded by increasing her movements. She was obviously having fun and had decided this was her “target” for the night. Lucky guy, first guy up and she was hitting on him.

The song was over and the band said they were going to play a slow song before taking their break. Vicky and her friend stayed on the dance floor. The band started a slow country ballad and Vicky laid her head on the guy’s chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. He let his hands slide down her hips and then behind her, planting his hands firmly on her ass cheeks. When the song ended, as everyone applauded, he pulled Vicky against him and gave her a kiss on the lips. It wasn’t overly long for two people on the dance floor, but Vicky definitely responded. Of course, Vicky always loved kissing other guys. It’s something I had to get used to when we first started dating. When we went to our first large party together, the more she drank, the longer her kisses. By the end of the evening she was practically making out with guys she danced with. If she wasn’t so damned hot, I probably wouldn’t have asked her out again. Sure glad I didn’t make that mistake!

They walked off the back of the dance floor, holding hands. Then they turned right, away from me, and towards the other side of the bar. He had a small, high table against the wall that had two barstools. Vicky climbed into one and he sat in the other. From this distance, I couldn’t really tell if Vicky gave him a pussy shot when she climbed onto the barstool, but a waitress quickly appear and took their drink order. Another girl followed behind her with what looked like Jello shots on a tray. He handed over some cash and she handed them four shots. Before she even walked away from the table, they each did one shot. The girl picked up the used plastic shot glasses and walked away.

I moved across the bar some, to get a better view. I didn’t want to get too close and become too obvious, but I did want to see what went on. When Vicky goes out to play, part of the game is that I get to watch the action.

The two of them talked for a few minutes, then toasted with the other two Jello shots and swallowed them. Vicky giggled for a moment and he leaned over and kissed her again. This time it lasted a while and I could tell there was a good bit of tongue action. Like I said, Vicky liked to kiss other guys, especially if it involved a lot of tongue action. She was always kissing friends hello and goodbye and for just about any reason. She said it turned her on. I know it did me.

They broke the kiss and talked for a couple of minutes. The waitress returned with their drinks and the guy said something to her. I believe he went ahead and ordered another round. I couldn’t tell what was in his glass, but Vicky had a margarita…of course.

They talked for a while, drinking their drinks, and the waitress returned with another round of drinks. She was followed by the Jello shot girl and he bought four more shots. Again, they drank one right away before the girl left. After the two waitresses left, he repositioned Vicky’s barstool so they were facing each other. Vicky put one foot on the upper rail of his barstool and one on the lower rail of hers. There was no question that she was letting him see her bare pussy now. He pulled her toward him again and started kissing her. She put her arms around his neck and this time the kiss turned into a full makeout session. As they kissed, I saw Vicky move on her barstool and realized that his hand was no longer around her waist. It was somewhere up her skirt. And with the way Vicky was moving, I was pretty sure I knew exactly where up her skirt.

I moved to the back corner of the bar, leaning against some support post. A waitress came by, so I ordered another beer. When I looked back towards Vicky’s table, I could see she had spread her knees even farther apart. From where I stood, a fair distance away, and even in the low lighting, I could almost see her pussy. I looked around. While the tables against the wall were high tables with barstools, the other tables were normal height with chairs. It was obvious from their glances and gestures to each other, that guys at several tables closer to them could see Vicky’s pussy under her skirt and could see that this guy was finger fucking her right there in the bar.

The band started to play again. The guy continued finger fucking Vicky during the first song. Right near the end of the song, it looked like she had an orgasm. He pulled his hand out from under her skirt and brought it up above the table. Vicky took his hand and started sucking each finger and licking his hand. She always did like the taste of herself. The Jello shot girl came around again and he order four more shots. Vicky seemed to be protesting, but he bought them anyhow. Like before, they did one of the shots right away and the girl picked up the glasses and walked away.

The band started another song. He got up and took Vicky by the hand. They both walked unsteadily…ok, they staggered…to the dance floor. They danced the next two songs together. Both were fast songs and the dance floor was still crowded, so they were pressed together. But there was no question that Vicky was grinding her pussy against his crotch as they danced. She had her arms loosely around his neck and his hands were behind her. As they turned, I saw that he had pulled her skirt up a little and his fingers were pressed into the bare bottom of her ass cheeks. Even though they were moving at a pretty fast clip, their lips were locked together the whole time.

The band started a slow song, “The Dance”, by Garth Brooks. A lot of people usually leave the dance floor on slow songs, but this was the most popular country song in the nation. It really is a great “lovers” song and no guy can refuse to get up to dance if his lady wants him to. The dance floor got even more crowded. I almost lost my view of them as the song started. But after a minute I was able to see them again. Again, Vicky had her arms around his neck and their lips were locked together. But his hands were no longer on her ass. One hand was inside her now unbuttoned top and squeezing her nipple, which was plainly visible. The other hand was in-between him and her. By the way her skirt rose up in the front, I was pretty sure he had that hand on or in her pussy. They were not even moving to the beat. They just stood there, kissing, while he played with her. Everyone around them was packed so close together that they would have had to look down to see his hand up the front of her skirt. As far as her nipple being out, I noticed a few other couples, not a lot, but a few, where the girl’s tit was in full view while her partner played with her nipple. I guess public nudity just isn’t as unusual as it used to be.

The band came to the end of the song. The guy led Vicky off the dance floor. Her blouse buttons were still undone, but her titties were both covered. When they finally staggered their way to the table, he helped Vicky onto her barstool, then climbed into his. He pulled the two stools closer to each other and spread his legs. Vicky draped both of her legs overtop of his. He handed her one of the Jello shots and they downed them. Then Vicki leaned forward and started kissing him again. Her hands went under the table and into his crotch. Both his hands went down to her crotch, too. I don’t know if she unzipped him or not, but they were both playing with each other sitting in a bar. The thought suddenly crossed my mind, “I wonder if she knows his name?”

They continued this for quite a while. The waitress walked by once, but seeing they still had drinks and weren’t drinking them, she didn’t stop. Maybe she could see more and didn’t want to interrupt. In any case, they kissed and played with each other through the bands current set, and into the next. They occasionally came up for air and took a sip of their drinks. Then they went right back to playing with each other, either unconcerned or unaware of the people around them.

They finally stopped. Vicky sucked the fingers of both his hands this time. She must have come several times, because from where I was I could see the thick white goo on his fingers. As she sucked it off, a few drops got on her cheek and chin. She didn’t notice, so she sat there with her own cum on her face.

They both finished their drinks and got up again. The band was playing, so I thought they were going back to the dance floor, but they walked pass the dance floor and over to the restrooms near the front of the bar. I watched as Vicky went into the ladies’ and he into the men’s. In a few minutes he stumbled back out of the restroom and waited for her.

Vicky came out and put her arm around him. He bent down to kiss her. She bent her neck back and opened her mouth wide, letting him shove his tongue far down into her throat. They broke off the kiss, turned, and walked out the front door.

It took me a few moments to realize what just happened. She left the bar with this guy! But then I remembered that you couldn’t smoke in the bar, so maybe this guy smokes and needed to go get his fix. Neither Vicky nor I smoke.

I decided to walk to the front door and make sure they were standing out front with the other smokers. It took a few minutes to get across the crowded bar. I finally got to the front doors and walked out. I looked up and down on either side of the doors. There were lots of people out there smoking, so I had to walk down the building on both sides of the door to be sure. They weren’t there. I looked across the driveway in front of the door to see if anyone was on the grass strip between the bar and the hotel. There were a few people over there making out; even a few lying in the grass together. But I didn’t see anyone that looked like Vicky.

As I was looking at the people on the grass strip, a pickup truck came down the driveway, leaving the parking lot. In middle of the seat, up against the driver, was Vicky. Her bare feet were on top of the dashboard. By the way her feet were apart, I could imagine what the driver, the guy she was with in the bar, was doing. She was looking my way as they drove out, but I couldn’t tell if she didn’t see me or just ignored me. In any case, they drove out onto the street and turned left.

My car was near the rear of the parking lot. I walked back to it as fast as I could without breaking into an all out run. I drove to the street and turned left. I knew there wasn’t much chance of finding them, but I thought maybe they’d stop at one of the fast food joints on the street and I’d get lucky. I didn’t.

After driving around awhile, I drove back to the hotel. It was already almost 3 AM and the bars were closed and the streets were getting empty. I guaranteed my room when I made the reservation, so it was still there for me even at that hour. I took both our overnight cases with me, checked in at the front desk and went up to the room. I made sure to put my cell phone on the stand beside my bed and then just crashed.

I woke up about 9 AM. I checked my cell phone – no messages. I looked at the message light on the hotel phone, but it wasn’t blinking. I didn’t know what to do, so I got up, brushed my teeth and took a shower. When I dried off, I rechecked both the phones again, but no messages had come in. I got dressed and repacked my overnight bag. Check out time wasn’t until 12, so I turned on the TV, just for something mindless to do.

Right now I wasn’t sure how I felt. Yes, I told her it was OK that she fucked a stranger last night, but I didn’t realize she was going home with him – and without me. I was also worried. I knew nothing about this guy and my wife drove off with him. He could hurt her – Hell, he could kill her. That made me so upset I went into the bathroom and got sick.

It was almost 11:30 when my cell phone rang. It was Vicky…thank God she was okay. She said she was down in the lobby. The hotel clerk wouldn’t tell her what room I was in. I gave her the room number and she said she’d be right up. Just before she hung up, she said, “I love you more than anyone in the world. I hope you still love me.” Then the line went dead before I could think of an answer.

I was standing by the door when Vicky knocked. I opened it immediately and she came in. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me hard, pushing her tongue deep into my mouth and rubbing her body against me. Then she walked over to the bed, laid down, and patted the bed sheet beside her. I closed the door and laid down beside her. She wrapped her arms around me again and started kissing me. She whispered softly into my ear, “Make love to me. Anyone can fuck me, but only you can make love to me.”

I started to unzip my pants. She pulled off her vest, blouse and skirt. She still had her boots on. As I worked my pants down and unbuttoned my shirt, I looked at her. Her thighs had several small bruises on them. There were also some small bruises on her breast, including one on her left tit that looked exactly like a picture of a fingerprint from “CSI”. Both her nipples looked red and sore. I threw my clothes over top of her and onto the floor. I looked at her pussy. It also looked red, sore, and a little swollen. I could see some traces of smeared blood below her pussy and on her inner thighs.

“Did he hurt you?” I asked.

“A little,” she said. “But he didn’t do it on purpose. He just likes sex a little rougher than we do it.”

“Did he have a big cock?”

She laughed, “Why is that always the first question men asked? Last night, he asked me if my boyfriend – I didn’t tell him we were married – was bigger than he was. And I’ll tell you the same thing I told him: You’re both about the same size.”

“Then where did the blood come from?”

“Honey, I was really drunk when I left with him, if you didn’t notice.” I smiled. I had. “He played with my pussy and nipples all the way back to his place. When we got there, he continued shoving his fingers into me. More and more, until he fist fucked me. You know I love that, but I guess his hands – but ONLY his hands – are bigger than yours. At some point in the night, he started playing with my ass and eventually fist fucked my asshole. I’m not real fond of that, but I was so drunk I didn’t much care what he did, as long as I kept having orgasms. And I DID have orgasms. All night long…or at least until I passed out.”

“Then I woke up this morning in bed with him. I went to the bathroom and when I came back, he was awake. I crawled back into bed and we fucked for a couple more hours. We took a shower together, fucked in the shower, and then he brought me to the hotel and dropped me off. He parked in the back parking lot and wanted to fuck me one more time in his truck. I wanted to, but it was almost 11:30 and I figured the check out time was probably noon, so I told him no, maybe some other time.”

I interrupted. “Do you plan to see him again?”

“Maybe someday,” she said. “I got his cell phone number.”

“Then he walked me to the hotel entrance and gave me a huge kiss in the front lobby. I think he just wanted people in the hotel to know we were together. You guys are so weird like that – kinda’ like pissing a circle around us to mark out your territory.”

“Before he walked away, he asked if you would be pissed because I left you at the club last night and went home with him. I told him, that while I really had a great time fucking him, you were the most wonderful person in the world and would understand that a woman has needs that sometimes one man can’t fill.”

“He said he’d never let a girl of his do that. I told him ‘that’s why I’m not your girlfriend’. I told him that you love me and know I love you and would allow me to have whatever I wanted or needed and that I would do the same for you.”

Then she stared into my eyes. “Was I right?” she asked quietly.

During this whole story I had been lightly rubbing her swollen red pussy. She was already wet. I rolled over, put my head between her thighs, and licked that luscious piece of womanhood as fast and as hard as I could. I sucked on her clit until she started to squeal. In just a few minutes she came and I swallowed up all the wet juices she put out. I moved over top of her, slid my hard cock into her soft, wet pussy and fucked her. No, let me restate that. I made love to her, because no matter how many guys fuck her, I know that only I can make love to her. And she knows I’ll always be here to do that, no matter who she fucks, when she fucks, or where she fucks.

How many of you have that much love for each other?
Poster: Dan


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