Drinks at the Bar

This is one of those, "I never thought it could happen to me" confessions. Actually it's more like two of them. One is I never thought something could make such a dramatic difference in my sex life with my husband, Jim. The other is the actual activity that caused the change.

To begin, my name is Claudia. I've been married to Jim for 26 years; we are both 48. We married right out of college when I discovered I was pregnant with our only child, a daughter. Jim is a midlevel executive with an oil company. For 25 years, I was a high school English teacher. I retired last year, and have taken a part-time job teaching a remedial class at the local community college.

Jim travels about once a month for work and I'd always wanted to go along with him, but almost never could because of work or motherhood commitments. Now, with our daughter off on her own and work responsibilities reduced, I looked forward to some adventures with my husband.

I guess I'd always romanticized Jim's trips, and often imagined some pretty wild and erotic things we would get up to. These fantasies would be used to supply needed relief when Jim wasn't around or if he was just too tired. The frequency of our sexual activities had really declined over the last 5 years or so.

I really thought things would improve once the classroom didn't drain so much of my energy. What I didn't realize was that Jim suffered from reduced libido due to stress and lack of energy as much as I did. So, although my sex drive has returned, and maybe even increased in the last year, that doesn't seem to be the case with Jim.

Moving along, the "incident", as Jim and I have come to refer to it, happened exactly 4 weeks ago. We flew to Washington D.C. and stayed at the J. W. Marriott Hotel. Jim managed to get our tickets upgraded to first class, and I was in a very good mood.

Since our other trips had left a little to be desired romance-wise, I talked Jim into staying over Saturday night so we could see a bit of the museums on the Capitol Mall and not have the pressure of Jim needing to attend meetings the next day.

Things were going really well. The hotel is beautiful and located right next to the Mall. We got back from the Smithsonian about 4:30 and took a nap before dinner. We ate at the hotel, finishing about 9:30 pm. Jim was feeling great and suggested we stop by the lounge for a couple more drinks.

I told Jim I'd rather go back to the room and attack him. Plus, I was worried if he drank too much, he wouldn't be able to perform. But he was insistent, so we stopped in.

The tables were pretty full with couples and small groups while the seats at the bar were virtually deserted. We sat down and as the bartender approached for our order, I thought he looked really familiar but couldn't place him.

He was very tall, about 6'6", well built, maybe 25-to-30 years old, and black. After he'd gone to get the drinks, I asked Jim if he remembered the man. Jim said he didn't, but I was sure I'd seen him before. Jim made a crack about me having a secret life.

"Only a fantasy one," I shot back, thinking that this young black hunk was soon to be included in it.

When my newest imaginary lover returned with the drinks, I saw his nametag, and everything clicked into place.

"Franco!" I exclaimed, "It's been a long time."

He looked at me, puzzled.

"I'm Claudia, Jamie's mother."

It took about five seconds, but the realization finally came over his face.

"Oh my God," he smiled broadly, "How long has it been?" He extended his hand.

I shook it and re-introduced Jim, who was, of course, still puzzled.

"You remember Franco, don't you Jim? He dated Jill for a couple of years in college." Jill had been Jamie's roommate. "He was over to the house a couple of times for parties with Jamie's friends, weren't you Franco?"

"I think so. It's really been a while. What's it been three or four years? It's good to see you again. And don't worry about the drinks, they're on the house tonight."

Franco paid us as much attention as he could, but drink orders for the tables kept him pretty busy. For a while, he talked to Jim about basketball. Franco had a scholarship at college, but wasn't good enough for the pros.

As they chatted, my mind began to wander to a fantasy I had for a while. OK, it's not too hard to figure out, older white wife, young black stud. You get the picture. And, since I was already determined to get some action from Jim, the mental pictures I was now having were creating quite a juice flow in me.

The fantasy had begun one time when Franco was at a party at our house. Jim and I tried to stay out of the way, but as I was bringing out more refreshments, I overheard part of a conversation two coeds were having as they hungrily eyed Franco dancing with Jill.

"I heard he's proportionate," was all I heard, but it was enough initiate secret thoughts, secret fantasies.

At the bar, I eyed Franco, and wondered if he could tell what I was thinking. I flirted with him a bit, showing the cleavage I'd prepared for Jim's benefit. A couple of times, I let the hem of my skirt ride up so the tops of my thigh-highs were visible.

I don't know what effect it had on Franco, but it got me hotter and hotter. I pursed my lips when ordering, and slid my tongue slowly across my upper lip after sipping my drink keeping me eyes fixed on his.

We were finishing our third round around 10:30 when Franco came over and said his shift was over. He wished us a good night.

"Mmmm," I said, wrapping my arm around Jim by way of saying goodbye to Franco, "I've got to get old Jim upstairs. I promised him a wild night." I was talking about my husband, but I was still flirting with the black man.

"Why don't you come up to our room for a night cap?" Jim asked.

I was flabbergasted! I was ready to hump a beer bottle, and here Jim was asking this guy back to our room! Hopefully, he'd say no.

"Why not?" asked Franco. So we all went upstairs.

In the room, Jim opened beers for all of us. When they were gone, Jim opened three more. When Franco went to use the toilet, I had to talk to Jim.

"What's going on?" I asked in a hushed voice

"What do you mean, what's going on?"

"What's this guy doing in our room?"

"Uh, having a drink? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about why you invited this total stud back to our room. Are you expecting him to make a move? Or me?"

"Do you want him to make a move on you?"

"Do you? Cause I'm so hot right now that, if he pulled his cock out, I'd do pretty much whatever he wanted."

Jim hesitated, "No, I guess not, but I noticed how much attention you were paying him at the bar."

"Just harmless flirting. I thought it might help you get it up. " I said through gritted teeth being deliberately cruel with Jim for delaying our tryst. "Get him out of here, so we can play."

"OK."

When Franco returned, we finished the second beer, and Jim thanked Franco for stopping by.

"Is that it," Franco asked.

"Uh, yeah," said Jim.

"Well what was all that erotic play back at the bar?" Franco was looking at me for the answer.

I blushed. "I'm sorry if you misunderstood, Franco. That was meant for my husband. We're really not swingers."

"You really should be more considerate. I passed on a date I could have had with one of the couples at a table to come up here. Now, you want me to go home with blue balls?"

"We're really sorry," said Jim. "We didn't mean to lead anyone on. Claudia's right, we've never done any swinging."

"But you've thought about it," said Franco, taking over. "You've played little fantasy games about it."

We didn't answer. Yes we had conversations. Yes, Jim said he'd like to see me with another guy. But it was just fantasy. Nothing real.

"Very well," said Franco, looking directly at me, "you started all this so why don't you give me a hand job, and we'll call it even? It would be all right, wouldn't it?" Franco turned his head to look at Jim. "It's only a harmless hand job. And besides," turning back to me, "I'll bet you really want to see if I'm hung like black guys are supposed to be, don't you Claudia?"

There was total silence. I couldn't speak. Of course, I wanted to see, but I couldn't say that in front of Jim. Finally, Jim said, "It's really up to Claudia." Both men looked at me.

You bastard, Jim I thought, well if you don't have the balls to stand up to him, then fuck it. I'll jerk this stud off. As my mind raced ahead, my clit tingled in my panties.

"Ok," I said as I got up and walked over to Jim. My body blocked Franco's view as I bent down and kissed Jim on the cheek. I whispered in his ear, "You want a show, I'll give you a show, but I'll bet you're as eager as I am to see that big black cock, aren't you?"

I squeezed his crotch. Jim was definitely hard, all right.

"Just a hand job, right?" Jim's question was more of a plea.

Franco sat on the room's love seat. I sat next to him and slowly moved my hand to his crotch. The bulge was very impressive, and expanded as I rubbed my hand up and down. I pulled down the zipper and extracted his semi-hard phallus. It was beautiful and black. Not fully hard, it was easily inches bigger than Jim's on his best day. As I stroked him, I decided to tease-talk both men.

"Mmmm. You have a really big cock. It's much bigger than Jim's. Isn't it honey?" Holding it by the base, I turned to look at Jim. He simply swallowed and stared.

Franco finally stopped growing at 9.5 inches but I kept stroking.

"Use two hands," Franco urged.

I put my other hand on his cock, but the position was not very conducive to a good hand job.

"Like this," Franco said, as he took my shoulders and guided me off the small couch and onto my knees on the floor.

I was facing his beautiful organ, not eighteen inches from my mouth. I could see Jim, off to my right. He had removed his own meat and began to beat it.

My face drifted closer and closer to his mighty cock as I massaged Franco with both hands. Even with both hands on him, there was still about three or four inches sticking out. It was now eight inches away and I wasn't sure I could stop myself from slipping it into my mouth.

"It's no good, breathed Franco in frustration. "I really need some lubricant to get off. Some KY jelly or something. Have you got any?"

"No," I told him. "Will saliva do?"

Yes, I wanted desperately to blow that gorgeous black dick.

"Is Jim Ok with that?" Franco asked. "This was just supposed to be a hand job."

"I don't think Jim minds, do you sweetie?" I asked, looking at my husband. Jim was silent.

I moved forward and took Franco into my mouth. My pussy was on fire. I don't think I'd ever been so hot.

"Do it, Claudia. Make him cum," Jim said, wanking furiously in the other chair.

I looked up at Franco. "I've never had black cum. Do it for me. Shoot it in my mouth." I swooped down until my lips met my top hand. I jerked him and moved my head up and down.

"Like this," Franco said, grabbing my hair and holding my head still while he fucked my mouth.

Jim couldn't take anymore, and I heard him let go with a groan. It wasn't long for Franco either.

"Oh God, here it comes," Franco said.

Spurt after spurt blasted my mouth. I was so hot I swallowed, something I've almost never done. I rarely let Jim cum in my mouth, but when I do, I always spit into a tissue afterwards.

I kept nursing at Franco's cock as it slowly deflated. I pulled it from my mouth and inspected it for any traces of his juice. I'd done a thorough job, but licked its length several times anyway. Finally, I kissed it on the head and pushed it back into Franco's fly, and zipped up.

I struggled to my feet, and then helped Franco up.

"Thank you. I enjoyed that so much," I told him.

"Um, you're welcome" Franco said as he departed.

As I turned back into the room, I saw Jim slumped in the chair, his eyes closed. He was breathing deeply. His cock had shrunk back into his pants, invisible. But there were some wet spots around his crotch. I walked over. Bending down, I ran my hand up his thigh. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Sorry, babe, but I'm done down there for tonight."

"I know, sweetie, but nobody's helped me out yet. I'm going to need some of this soft wet tongue of yours."

I took Jim's head in both hands and placed my lips on his. I slowly opened my mouth making sure he did the same, and then slid my tongue in. I kissed with all the pent up passion in me, stroking his tongue with mine, and eventually luring his tongue into my mouth. He swabbed it around. Our lips got all slimy from Franco's load. Neither of us mentioned it, but it turned me on to have Jim kiss me like that, not that I needed it.

I pulled away and lay back on the bed. Raising my hips, I slipped off my panties, leaving all my other clothes on. Looking at Jim, I moved my hand between my thighs and caressed my clit. Jim likes to watch me do myself. It felt great, but that wasn't how I wanted to finish the evening. Moving my hand to my thigh, I spread my legs farther.

"Lick me. You can't believe how hot Franco got me. I want you to get me off with your tongue."

Jim did as I requested. The heat generated by the blowjob transformed into an incredible set of orgasms. It went on for minutes before I finally pushed Jim's face away. I fell immediately asleep fully clothed, minus panties, of course.

* * * *

As I said, that was four weeks ago. I had heard about couples that claimed an extramarital fling had saved their marriage and improved their sex life. Well, I don't think Jim and I were heading for divorce court, but our sex life certainly improved.

What had been spiraling down to once a month sex has now improved to five times a week. On two Saturdays, we had morning and evening sessions. Franco's cock has taken a central role as I routinely related how exciting the encounter was for me.

When I'm being quiet, Jim takes the lead and describes how hard he became watching me, how he got so turned on he had to jerk off. One thing that surprised me was that Jim didn't ask me to swallow his cum. I really thought he would. He hasn't though, and even explained it to me in a way that I guess I can understand.

"You never have done that for me, just as I'd never just pulled out my dick and jerked off like that before either. It was really something I just had to do based on how turned on I was at the moment.

"It seems like it was like that with you. You were just in some other world or something, and being so turned on, swallowing was what you needed to do. It's knowing you were so 'out of control' you had to swallow for him, something you'd never think of doing otherwise that really turns me on about 'the incident'.

"If you asked me to cum in your mouth and swallow, it wouldn't be because you really wanted to and had to, like you did with Franco, but because you thought you owed it to me because you did it for him. I get turned on knowing you're turned on. Sucking me off wouldn't be as exciting for you as sucking him off and so, swallowing for me wouldn't be as much of a turn on as remembering you doing it for him."

Anyway, our sex life has picked up quite a bit, and I'm very happy with that. Jim wants to know if I want to do it again. For now, no.