Note to the anonymous letter writers ... if you don't like what I write then don't read it. If you do enjoy them, I thank you for your comments.
None of my stories is set in the current times ... I really am an old fart and I can't take those little magic pills. Therefore, there is no possibility of "new" adventures. Of course, writing about past adventures has some real advantages ... my memories are always better than the real thing. In other words folks, my stories are a mixture of fact and fantasy and written for some not-so-pure enjoyment.
It also helps to remind you that in the mid 60s-early 70s, we were all young, 10 feet tall, and bulletproof. AIDS was yet to appear on the scene and "make love not war" was the theme of the day.
My wife was one of the editors with a major Atlanta publishing firm. Before they started publishing fancy "shelter" magazines, they put out a whole bunch of "trade" magazines...you know, the kind aimed at all types of private industry. The same staff put out about 10 different magazines.
As a free-lance photographer, I did a whole lot of photo assignments for all of them ... and some of those made for fun stories that may eventually appear here. However, this story is about THE road trip to Nashville.
Unlike the big publishing companies (like Time-Warner) the staff and editors were more than friends...almost family but more like a little commune. Sometimes several of the publications would be on deadline at the same time so there would be a bunch of them buzzing around right up until the last minute. Naturally, they would hit the streets of Atlanta looking for some food, drink, and blowing off some steam.
If I was in town, I would join the group along with my wife. Sometimes we went out as just a group, sometimes we went out as a group of couples, and only very rarely did anyone go out as individual couples. If I was on the road, neither my wife nor I had a problem about her going out with her friends after work.
We had wrapped up work around 8pm and were all talking about going out for drinks and dinner. I had just finished a story about Nashville for another unrelated assignment so I said ... "too bad we don't have a Tootie's down here in Atlanta."
Tootie's was (and still is) a bar (don't call this one a pub) in Nashville that was nothing but crowded, jam-packed fun. They had a stage and instruments were always up there. No scheduled acts or headliners. However, when things got rolling and folks were getting right with God, it wasn't at all unusual for someone to jump up on stage and start playing or singing. Sometimes it was a tipsy patron, sometimes it was a waitress-singer hoping to be discovered (that's how Gretchen Wilson got her break), and sometimes it was one of the big stars just re-visiting his/her old stomping grounds.
Well, the more I talked, the better it sounded to the troops. By this time, we had all had a "nip" or two of a recreational beverage so it seemed perfectly logical (6-pack logic is drastically different than sober logic) that the next thing out of the mouth of one of the editors was "ROAD TRIP!!!!"
One of our advertisers was there as well and his company had customized luxury passenger vans complete with big comfortable seating with the essentials ... a TV/VCR and a bar. He volunteered and the game was on.
By the time we pulled out of Atlanta and headed for Nashville, it was already after 9pm. My wife and I were the only married couple in the van. Wasn't quite an even split (8 gals and 7guys) and an interesting age range. Most were in their late 20s (I had just turned 30) but one of the senior editors and the advertiser were in their mid-40s. We of were on our way and ready for a good time.
It was a long drive and we kept swapping around so one person didn't have to drive the whole distance. Of course, we didn't stop the van to swap drivers and that led to an interesting version of musical chairs. When a guy was driving, it was decided that the next driver would be a gal ... other than your partner.
We would slide the driver's seat as far back as possible, the gal would then plop down in the guy's lap to receive "instructions" about the controls. Naturally, the gals were putting a very good "wiggle" into the exchange just to see if they could make anything pop up.
This was in the early 70s and, in the publishing world, young gals (and their editors) loved those ultra-short flirty mini-skirts. No thongs back then but tiny bikini panties were very popular.
Well, as you can imagine, when one of those gals wiggled around on you, the skirts "slipped" out of the way and you were getting the equivalent of a 70mph lap dance.
Once you finished giving "instructions" you had to slide out and go to the back of the van. No guy escaped without popping one and you really got jazzed about it as you found a seat. LOTS of bad puns and comments.
The gals didn't escape either. When it was time for another driver switch, they rose up and the guy slid under them. None of us could resist flipping up the back of the skirt and yelling "Panty check!"
They would then BACK into the seating area with their skirts still flipped up. Some had opaque patterned panties, some had semi-sheer panties, all were fun. One gal lost her balance and fell across the laps of a couple of people with her skirt still up and her panties on full display ... a nice resounding spanking was fondly delivered.
Bras were not a part of the publishing uniform in the 70s so there was a LOT of play going on in that area as well.
Some more games were suggested but the winner was "5-minute making out".
As the only married couple, my wife and I were being left out of that game until my wife grabbed a guy's ass as he slipped past. Before she knew what happened, she was across the laps with her skirt up around her waist and panties on display ... it was "spanky" time for her too ... I even gave her a nice little smack that left a hand-shaped red spot.
One of the guys offered "to kiss it and make it better" so the gang decided I should get his gal for the 5-minute game while they were "busy". The last I saw of my wife for the next few minutes was him sliding her panties down just enough to plant a kiss on the red spot where I had spanked her. I never asked about any of her 5-minute sessions and she's never asked about mine. Lots of fun ... perhaps not so clean and innocent ... but fun nevertheless.
I did hear later that her panties wound up around her ankles for at least one of her sessions.
Other than the panty play, no clothing came off because we all had visions of trying to explain that to one of Tennessee's finest. That was a solid rule ... during the 5 minutes you could play by hand or mouth but everyone had to stay dressed.
During a four-hour drive you can swap partners a lot. Everyone had played with everyone several times ... lots of touchy-feely stuff. By the time we got to Nashville, there wasn't a pair of dry panties in the house. They might have been "adjusted" several times but they were all properly in place and makeup had been freshened when we finally parked near Tootie's.
It was almost 1am by the time we got a table but that's just when Nashville gets going on a Saturday night. Food, singing, dancing, cutting up, and LOTS of flirting and fanny patting. They didn't have a table big enough for all 15 of us so we did the musical chairs bit again ... this time with real music. Each time the music changed, the gals would wiggle onto a different lap. Panty flashes galore...hands sliding under skirts...cheering, yelling, titty squeezing...a real red neck Saturday night.
Nope, we weren't the only ones making fools out of ourselves. We even got some of the other guys and gals in Tooties in on our musical chairs game.
One of the younger women was really trying to "connect" with the editor but wasn't making much progress until she reached over and pulled the cherry out of his whiskey sour. She held it by the stem, tilted her head back and slowly sucked it into her mouth. Then, just as slowly, she pushed it back out again. She must have done that 5 or 6 times before she started going a little faster each time ... the other gals started egging her on and the guys were clapping time. She finally let it slide into her mouth and closed it tightly. Brought her head back to normal position and we could see her cheeks working. About a minute or so later she opened wide. The cherry was gone and she had tied a knot in the stem using only her tongue.
Oh Yeah! The whole place went wild over that one...and the editor was sweating like mad...she had been wiggling around on his lap the entire time.
The other women ... including my wife ... all wanted to know how she did that so for the next 30 minutes or so, it was lesson time followed by some interesting trial runs. My wife wasn't on my lap but she managed to beat the time of the cute little copy editor who had started it all. When she hopped up to take a little bow, her skirt flipped up and we could all see that her panties were tucked neatly and were sopping wet. The lucky cowboy she had been riding (oops, I mean sitting on) was trying vainly to hide a real tent-maker of a boner. That drew lots of hoots and cheers too.
After her little bow, my wife settled back down on his lap and wiggled around until she was "comfortable" again. Couldn't see but my guess was that his boner was between her butt cheeks.
We finally decided to head back to Atlanta about 4am. We all had a bit of a buzz on but with all of the crowds and fun, our metabolism rate must have been enough to get rid of a lot of the alcohol. We really weren't drunk. We hadn't really drinking that much because we knew we were all supposed to share the driving going back as well.
On the drive back, we still played around but it was at a much slower pace. One of the gals had complained about her legs being cramped so she stretched out across some laps and we started giving her a multi-hand massage. Enough hands and fingers got to the right places so that she had a very quiet little "O".
ALL of the women wanted and got the same treatment. Blouses were unbuttoned just enough for easy access and panties were pulled down and tossed into the front seat. Everyone got to see and play with everything they could reach. That game continued until every last one of the women had the ultimate stress relief a couple of times ... some were quiet little whimpers, some were real wall-bangers.
There were two different seating groups so we decided that each woman had to be massaged by each group and decide which group was best. The gals got in on the massage too and it was most educational watching them touch the target of the moment. Important lessons were learned that have been applied many times over the years. A very valuable experience indeed.
The guys had to stay fully zipped ... it was all to be fun and games but that was all. All of us had a problem that the gals didn't have and we were being teased without mercy. Then the cherry stem gal had what the guys considered to be the best idea of the night. She grabbed the editor and dropped her head into his lap. Proceeded to do an amazing demo of a fully clothed, hands free blowjob. Lesson time once more and a new round of 5-minute make out games. The gals kept swapping around until all of us had TOTAL relief.
It was a very good thing that none of us were going right back out in public because all of the guys had a huge wet spot.
Got back to the company parking lot about 9am, got into our cars and headed home ... except for Ms Cherry Stem ... she and the editor left together. The editor and Ms. Cherry Stem got married about two months later. Only lasted about six months because she found someone else that had even more money and was equally fascinated with her special "abilities".
My wife and I barely made it into our house before we decided to redo some of the games but with more interesting rules...full spread and balls to the wall right there on the carpet.
We never had another party that intense and none of the group ever discussed what had happened. Never came up as a discussion point in our house but our sex life definitely picked up and we've never gotten bored with each other.
There have been other interesting parties ... remember the horniest folks in the world are lawyers, medical people, cheerleaders, students, and anyone in the publishing world ... but absolutely nothing like that Nashville trip.
No direct sex but still one of the hottest experiences in my life. Left Atlanta at 9pm arrived back at 9am with no sleep. With all of the fun and games, you could truly say we were "up" all night.
Different times, different places, different "standards". All more than 30 years ago. Still fun to remember.
Send private anonymous feedback to the author (to post a public comment instead).