Did My Wife Fuck Tyler Jones?

I inhaled sharply. Lenny loved to dance and we did it as often as we could. We even danced at work when no customers were there. The rest of the staff would always watch and applaud.

"So what happened?" I asked.

At this point, a couple of other bar patrons started listening to him. He made no attempt to keep his voice low and seemed happy to have an audience.

He laughed. "We were out dancing one evening. I wanted to get my hands on her bodacious tatas and every other part of her. She seemed a little friendlier and we were dry fucking on the dance floor so I just came right out and asked her."

"Asked her what?"

"If she was ready to be fucked."

"What did she say?"

"She stopped grinding against me and thought for a few seconds. I thought I had made a mistake. She looked at me and I could see she had made her decision."

She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, but we only have about three hours until my hubby gets home."

Hubby? That's what Lenny called me. Hubby. This guy was a real salesman. I had the feeling that he could sell anything to anybody and that most of his pussy stories had, at least, an element of truth to them. I was beginning to not like him very much.

"We almost ran to my car to get to my apartment." He continued. "She tripped going up the steps and I got a glimpse up her skirt. I liked what I saw and reached my hand up there and grabbed her puss. She was wearing panties and they were wet, man. I mean soaking wet. I knew then that this was going to be one hot piece of ass. She squealed, and laughed, and scrambled up the steps."

Two more men and two women had joined his audience. I could understand the men listening, but the women surprised me.

"When we got upstairs, we wasted no time getting our clothes off. When she was completely naked, she stood there and so did I. I just stared. Every curve on her was perfect. Her chest, waist and hips were perfectly proportioned. I was looking at her but I could feel my dick getting hard. When it started to move she looked at it and watched as it stood at attention. She sauntered over wiggling her hips and shaking her breasts. God was she sexy. She put her hands on my hips and slowly lowered herself to her knees, leaned her head forward and took my dick into her mouth and started sucking. I reached down, grabbed the back of her head and held it as I slowly fucked back and forth in her mouth. She tightened her grip on my hips and helped me by pushing and pulling." He laughed. "Then she started to speed up. Man that girl was slurpin' and gobblin' and gaggin' all at the same time. I was in heaven and apparently, so was she. It didn't take long for me to cum and we both loved it. When I did cum if I hadn't been holding on to her head, I would have knocked her over backwards."

One of the men nudged his female companion. "That's nothing new. We do that all the time."

His companion just looked at him and rolled her eyes as if to say 'in your dreams'.

"When I was finished, she stood and said 'your turn' and ran to the bed and literally plopped her pretty ass on the bed, opened her legs, reached down, spread her pussy lips open and then stuck a finger in her mouth then in her pussy and back in her mouth. 'Come to mama, baby and eat this pussy'. I was between her legs in nothing flat with my tongue in her. I licked, sucked, and nibbled as she urged me on. 'Eat it baby. Come on eat me out. It's your cunt baby. Show me it's your cunt. Right there. That's it.' She never stopped; either talking or cumming. I swallowed a lot of her."

I heard another lady. "God, that's making me wet." Almost all of the men around us looked at her when she said that. She turned red. "Well, it does!"

Was this my wife he was describing? Lenny, like most women, I expect, love to have their pussies eaten and she loves to give blowjobs; even some of the talking sounded like her, but she was more of a moaner. Maybe this guy had some technique that drove her crazy... but I thought I did that. I reached for my drink, drank it all down and ordered another one. I didn't know if I wanted him to continue or not. He didn't care what I wanted, he was on a roll.

"After a long time, she called a halt and said she needed to rest. So did I. My tongue was sore, my neck was sore, and my back was sore. I got both of us a drink and we lay on the bed sipping them. It didn't take long before she reached down and started playing with herself. She stuck her finger in her puss and she brought it out and rubbed it around the lip of her glass. Then she repeated it only this time she rubbed it on my glass. When she finished with the rim, she stuck her finger in my drink and stirred it around. Then she told me to open my mouth and she stuck her finger in. I sucked on her finger and she started moaning. Both of our glasses went on the floor as I pushed her down and climbed on top of her. When I did, she reached down, grabbed my dick and aimed it at her puss. I shoved and she lifted her hips at the same time. As soon as I hit bottom, she started talking again. 'Fuck me, baby. Gimme some peter, baby. Fuck that pussy. Pound it, sweetie'. And with the talk were the grunts. Every time I rammed into her, she grunted. When I pulled out, she moaned. And between the grunts and moans were the words. Fuck me, baby. Harder. Goddamn it, harder. Fuck me. Pound me. And on and on. I never worked so hard in my life or enjoyed it more." He paused to take a drink. "God Damn, look at me. I'm sweating like a racehorse just thinking about it."

I was sweating as well, but for a different reason. Mine wasn't excitement; it was nervousness. Peter was a word Lenny used when she was teasing me. She would ask 'does your peter want to fuck me?' It was not in reference to my size, she just liked the word and we both thought it was funny.

I looked around at the people who were listening to him. Two men were laughing and one couple was debating. I heard the woman telling her companion that she could do the same things 'that bitch can do' and the man suggested they should go try. They rushed out.

One man came up and patted Jones on the back. "Hey, man. If you're not still bangin' that broad, give me her name."

"Still bangin' her? Of course I'm still bangin' her. That pussy is too good to give up."

That started another chorus of laughter and debates. One man said no pussy is too good to give up. The woman next to him punched him on the arm and said, "Really? Well, you just gave this one up, asshole." And she stormed out with him after her trying to convince her he was kidding.

Another guy asked where she worked.

"Nowhere now. She's taking a break," said Jones.

"Takin' a break?" Some guy shouted. "Tell me where she is and I'll take it with her."

Taking a break? Lenny wasn't working as far as I knew.

"Well, where is she?" Asked another guy.

He looked at his watch. "She's with her best friend right now, but she'll be sucking my dick later tonight.

My stomach jumped to my throat. "You said she's married. Where's her husband?" I asked.

"Probably at home jacking off."

Lots of laughter from his little audience.

I wanted to leave, but at the same time, I needed to stay. I pulled out my phone and called Charlotte.

She answered and there was loud music in the background. "Hey, Andy. Can't talk now we're busy." In the background I heard a voice I would swear was Lenny's. 'Tell him I'm waiting for that apology.' There was laughter as she ended the call.

Tyler Jones was a popular guy that evening and spent more time going over his exploits. He regaled his growing audience with stories of his conquests. The men cheered and the women who were listening, chided him and called him 'Superstud'. The men wanted to believe him, but the women mostly laughed.

He maintained that after his divorce he slowed down on his drinking, but increased his fucking. In fact his best friend started passing out stickers which said, 'I fucked Tyler Jones'. Those stickers were even on the walls of a couple of women's bathrooms in some of the not so upscale bars in the neighborhoods along the lakeshore.

That comment got my attention. I excused myself and headed for the lake. I went right to The Foggy Coast Bar. It was the bar Lenny and I were in the night she said 'I fucked Tyler Jones'. I sat at the bar and, although I didn't need it, ordered a drink. It was getting late and the place was full. I kept watching the bathrooms, especially the women's. There was a steady flow of traffic in and out. Finally, the place was closing.

"Drink up, mac. It's time to go home." Said the bartender, the same words I had said many times.

I hesitated before I spoke. "I, uh, have a pretty strange request."

"What's that?"

"I was talking to a friend of mine. His name is Tyler Jones. He told me that there were 'I fucked Tyler Jones' stickers in women's bathrooms in bars all over the neighborhood. I don't believe him so I was wondering if there were any here and if I could see for myself."

He started laughing. "That asshole. His buddy did it as a joke and for a little while those stickers were all the rage. Women who had never heard of him before were coming in here asking for them to give to their girlfriends at wedding showers and shit like that. We still have some on the stall doors in there. Come on and I'll show you. We went to the door of the women's bathroom and he knocked to make sure no one was in there. We went in and sure enough, on each side of the doors on the four stalls were the stickers.

I breathed a sigh of relief. If Lenny, in her drunken condition, went to the bathroom, sat in one of the stalls, saw the sticker on the door, then said to me 'I fucked Tyler Jones', she was just trying to tell me what she had seen. That made perfect sense to me.

Lenny had been gone over a month. Jones said he first fucked her several months ago and had fucked her occasionally since.

It couldn't be my Lenny. Jones might be able to talk people into buying cars, but to talk a happily married wife into fucking just to fuck? Could he do that? Fucking someone just to fuck them and jeopardize a marriage? Could she do that? Would she do that?

It had to be the stickers. She saw them and wanted to tell me about it. I was starting to feel good.

I called Lenny but she still didn't answer. I called Charlotte. Like the last time I called, there was loud music in the background.

"What do you want, Andy?" She sounded a bit on the drunk side

"I need to talk to Lenny."

"She isn't here."

"Where is she?"

"None of your business."

"Is she with someone?"

"Uh,... that's none of your business, either."

"Ask her to call me, please, Charlotte."

"Okay. When I see her, I'll tell her."

"When will you see her."

"Probably not until tomor... uh, later tonight."

Fuck, I thought. I wonder if she is just jerking my chain. I hoped she was.

"Look, tell her if she is interested in saving this marriage, she can go to The Foggy Coast Bar and take a few minutes to use their bathroom."

"What?"

"You heard me." I thought that if she wanted to work on the marriage, she might go there that night... then again, if she were out with someone...?

It was almost noon the next day when my phone rang. It was Lenny. I didn't answer it but I read the text she left.

"I saw the stickers. I know what happened. Call me, please."

I turned it off and left it off. She wouldn't talk to me for weeks so now it's my turn. I knew she still had a key to our apartment so I slept in the back of the bar that night. I ignored her calls like she had ignored mine, but it was painful. I wanted to see her and hold her and tell her I loved her but I also wanted her to suffer just a little.

The next day, I was behind the bar when I heard a familiar voice call out a drink order. I turned and it was Lenny in her work uniform. I looked at her. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out something and slapped it on her uniform shirt.

"I want to fuck Andy Buckles," said the sticker. She had to have worked fast to have it made in such a short time. She wore it the rest of the night and took lots of jeers, hoots, and hollers. We just smiled at each other every chance we got. Lots of people, men and women gave me encouragement. "Go for it, Andy" or "Lucky bastard" or "Need any help, Andy?" More than one guy introduced himself to her as 'Andy Buckles'.

Towards the end of the night, the crowd had thinned out. Some of the staff were getting a jump on cleaning the place. Lenny and I locked eyes. I finished wiping my hands on a bar towel, and we walked toward each other and met on the dance floor. One other couple was dancing... if you could call rubbing bodies together dancing.

"I'm sorry." I said when we were just inches away from each other. I reached and took the sticker off her apron, looked at it, smiled, and put it in my pocket.

"Me, too." She said

"Care to dance?"

"Love to."

We danced for a couple of minutes. Her familiar curves and bumps felt good against my body and I started getting hard for the first time since seeing Vicki Hairston.

"When are you going to make good on that sticker?" I asked pressing myself against her.

She put her hands on either side of my face and kissed me, deeply and tenderly. All the while pressing back.

"As soon as you get me home and get me naked."

Then I heard a familiar voice. "There she is. There's my girl. And there's Andy. Trying to steal my girl, Andy?"

Lenny and I separated and just looked at each other. Her eyes were huge. "I take it you know him?" I asked her. She didn't answer.

Tyler Jones grabbed her, pulled her to him and kissed her. After the kiss, he held her at arms-length. I could see her eyes and they were filled with panic and fear as she looked at me.

"How soon can you get out of here, baby?" He asked softly, but still loud enough for me and others near us to hear. "I need some pussy."