Category: public sex

Bar Room Slut and Stripper

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“Do you really have to go out now, Den?” said Janet, her lips forming into a sullen pout, “can’t you stay home just this once? I could make it worth your while!” She playfully lifted her short skirt, giving her husband a quick glimpse of her black lace panties and creamy white thighs.

“Oh, Janet!, you know I always go out for a quick beer on a Sunday lunchtime. It’s like a religion! It’s one of the few times all the guys can get together these days.”

Dennis had to admit, the sight of his wife’s panty covered crotch rarely failed to get his blood pumping. But he had to be strong. He could see that Janet was feeling sexy, and in this mood, if she got her way, he wouldn’t see the inside of his local pub until next week.

“I’ll be back before you know it baby!” he said as he slipped his jacket on and made a movement towards the front door. His wife, though, was not about to give up so easily.

“Fine! I’ll come with you then!”

In a near panic, Den searched his mind for an excuse for her not to join him, but he was a blank.

“You won’t enjoy it much, it’s just a bunch us guy’s talking and drinking”, he said somewhat lamely. But his wife seemed to have made up her mind and was already searching for her coat. He briefly thought about agreeing with her initial demand and dragging her back up to the bedroom for a good session of sex, but he thought that would be too obvious. There really was nothing he could do to stop her now!

Janet had not bothered to change out of her short skirt and thin halter top, and as they entered the dark pub, a few heads turned to look at her. Den could hardly blame them. At thirty four, his wife was still a great looker. Her blonde hair framed a heart shaped face and tumbled over her shoulders in wispy curls. Her legs were long and slender, an extra two inches added to her height with the heeled sandals that she wore and the halter top did little to conceal the ample charms of her breasts. He felt proud when other men looked at her.
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At The Window

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As he walked into the living room of their second floor apartment fresh from his morning shower, he saw her bent at the waist and leaning out the open window, apparently talking to Mrs. Smith, the landlady who usually sat downstairs on a lawn chair in the front yard watching the world go by. The curtains were closed and only her bottom half emerged from between them. She was wearing one of her ratty old sweatpants and stood leaning on one leg, with her hips off to the side, one cheek a little higher than the other.

At that exact moment, the way the thick cloth draped and accented the shape of her ass looked very good to him. He thought about how she had looked earlier, walking around the apartment in his old, oversize sweatshirt. Obviously braless underneath, he had enjoyed the gentle swaying of her breasts pushing against the fabric as she moved about.

Without really thinking about it, he walked over to where she was, stood behind her, pulled the window down as far as he could without hurting her, and locked it in position with the anti-burglar lock. She was a little startled, but Mrs. Smith was still talking, so she acted as if nothing was happening. She felt him grab her hips and grind his crotch into her ass. Out of the corner of her mouth, through clenched teeth, so Mrs. Smith would think she was still paying attention, she whispered, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Whatever I want,” he said, and she felt him pull away and begin ripping the sweatpants down the seam at the back.
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The Dirty Dance Floor

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When I saw them dancing out on the floor together, I didn’t think anything of it. Girls can dance together all the time and people don’t give it a second thought. In fact, it made them look available and care free. The light show enveloped them, and the dark corners seemed to be their playground. I watched as the strobe made their movements surreal, downed a couple of beers and went out onto the floor.

Dancing nearby, I began to see the stares coming from all around the room. Other men and women were watching them with fascination. Their bodies swam in fluid sensuality and my heart started to pound when they moved over to me. Their movements enveloped my own. The taller girl leaned over to me and introduced herself as Jen in a husky voice. Jen was a brunette dressed in a short dark skirt and gray baby-t. Her breasts bounced freely as if no bra restrained them. She gestured to her friend and told me her name was Laura. Laura glanced around and looked relieved that my presence had gotten rid of some discomforting stares and gave me a welcoming smile. Laura appeared less at ease with her body than Jen, but still looked hot in her fitted black jeans and a black top that was only held closed by a single button between her breasts. The cleavage she showed led me to believe she wore a push-up and my eyes were drawn to her breasts repeatedly. . I told them my name was Jon then began to dance near them, my nervous energy being released as I let myself move in time with the driving beat of the music. I could feel the bass thumping the floor beneath me, and I could feel myself growing aroused watching the two of them eye one another, then sweep their gaze down my long form.
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They Helped Themselves

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Beth and I were not into swinging. Neither of us had ever had a sex partner other than each other but Beth did like for me to play with her tits and pussy in public places. Not to be watched, just for me to secretly finger fuck her without anyone noticing. The fact that it was in a public place with us surrounded by people really turned her on. One of our favourite places for doing this was in crowded bars. On these occasions Beth would only wear shoes, mini skirt and tee shirt. This was so I could get easy access to her body. We had been playing these games for about a year when things took a dramatic change.

We had gone into this bar, not one of our regular places. We liked it immediately as it was very crowded. We pushed our way up to the bar. I ordered drinks and whilst the black barman was getting them I turned to Beth who had placed one foot on the foot-rail of the bar and leaned slightly forward. I slid my hand down her tummy and under her very short skirt and began to rub her pantiless shaved pussy. I began sliding my finger in and out of her wet pussy. Being in the midst of this noisy crowd was very exciting for both of us. Beth had her eyes closed and was doing that little murmuring hum she does when she is turned on.

The barman returned with the drinks so I had to remove my hand from her pussy to pay him. I took a sip of my drink and when I put my hand back under her skirt there was another guy’s hand fingering her pussy. I was temporarily stunned. I couldn’t believe that one of these guys would have the guts to do something so brazen. He just looked at me and smiled. I looked at Beth; she hadn’t opened her eyes and was still murmuring away. She either didn’t know or didn’t care whose finger was up her just so long as she was getting pleasure.
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The Wifes A Beach

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Caroline loves to display herself on beaches, but won’t admit it. “Not another nude beach. I don’t think I could stand being perved at,” she said peevishly.

“Come on, darling. It won’t be too bad I promise.”

We set off down the track in the cane fields of Kauai. It was a beautiful sunny day, and she soon forgot her qualms. As usual, she had no bra on – no bikini top either, as we knew it was a nude beach. As a walked behind her, I massaged her tits, and then started unbuttoning her short. The lack of resistance told me she was already aroused, and soon she was parading down the track with her shirt open and her breasts swinging freely.

After ten minutes or so the track narrowed and descended to the beach through some ironwoods, a beautiful crescent shaped bay with white sand and wild surf, with no development in sight. There were two couples already there, both naked, plus the usual collection of gay men that seem to frequent these places. There were lots of nooks in the bushes, but the best ones were occupied by the gays. We couples had to content ourselves with the open beach. Both the others seemed to be enjoying themselves but looked shy.
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Ride In the Country

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It’s been close to a year since I met Tiffany. Our meeting was rather bizarre (ain’t it amazing what Greyhound can do for your sex life?) and we’d done some rather strange things with each other (like a different kind of synchronized swimming) so we decided to actually start dating. We decided that it would be a somewhat non-exclusive relationship but we wound up seeing each other more than other people.

She called me one afternoon. It was the day after my birth- day and she wanted to do something. I suggested a trip to Niagara Falls. It is one of my favorite places to go. She agreed and said she’d be over in about 10 minutes.

I got dressed and stepped out onto my porch to wait for her. It was positively beautiful outside. The temperature was about 72 degrees with light, cool breeze. Figuring it would be colder by the water, I went inside and got my wind breaker, slung it over my shoulder, and resumed my position on the porch.

She pulled up a few minutes later in her bright red 1990 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. I hopped in, we exchanged the preliminary tonsil hockey-style kiss and we were off like prom dresses.
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Concert Quicky

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We were at an outdoor concert in late spring. The concert was being held out in the hill country, really back in the sticks, outside of New Braunfels. It was a rock concert and we were standing up close to the stage, her with her date and me with mine. It was evening, and it was dark except for the lights on the stage and we were dancing to the music just like everybody else around us. Every now and then I would see a glimpse of her breasts swaying beneath her flimsy blouse. I didn’t know her though she was a stranger who was very pretty. She attracted me like a magnet.

I danced a little closer and we bumped once or twice as we danced to the music. The soft fabric of her dress did nothing to hide the smooth and supple curve of her ass as I moved to the music, just behind her. We touched again, and by now I was developing a decided stiffness in the front of my jeans. Again we touched as we danced and bounced. This time I imagined that I detected a distinct rubbing of her soft butt against my hard crotch.

Alas the song ended and the moment passed without another en- counter. During the next song though, I again feel her press against me again, this time more insistently — trying to find out if what she was rubbing against was indeed what she thought it was. When I felt the touch come again I moved my hips forward and grind a little. Let there be no doubt, I thought. Yes, that is a hard cock you feel in my jeans. Yes, it is YOU that is making it so hard.
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Eating Out

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My husband and I have been married for several years and we’ve both decided that in order to keep spice in our marriage alive we’ve got to inject excitement into it whenever we can.

We are both extremely liberated when it comes to sex. We read a lot of the sex magazines, digests and websites and we try to keep up with all the new trends in sexual acts. We’ll do just about anything once, if it gives us a thrill.

One of our new games is to have sex in public. Yes, that’s just what I mean. We get each other off when there are other people around. The real trick isn’t the sex part, but not letting anyone catch us while we’re at it.

Sometimes we plan it all out and sometimes it just happens. That’s when I like it the best, when it’s all spontaneous and you just go with the flow. You don’t know what’s going to happen and that’s the main part of the excitement.
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Ravished Wild Party

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RAVISHED
“Are you sure you want to go,” Jeff asked Gail, “I hear it gets pretty wild, and you’re never really sure how far things are going to go.” Gail took a sip of her soda, leaned back in her chair, and replied, “Oh, come on, how wild could it be, it should be fun, I’m game if you are.” Jeff stared down at the beautiful young attorney, while all the while thinking that it was only their second date and a night at an underground sex club might not be exactly the right thing to do. “Well,” she said, “is it yes or no!?!” “Uh, sure, Gail,” he replied, “yeah, we’ll grab a pizza and after work and then, well, you know, we’ll do it.” “Good,” she replied, “now get outa here, I’ve got a ton of work to do and if you’re smart,” she said wickedly, “you’ll get going on yours.”

“Mmmm, good pizza,” Gail offered while climbing into Jeff’s new car, “so, where is this place of wonder you’re taking me to!?!” “It’s down by the docks,” he replied while pulling smoothly into traffic, “inside of an old abandon warehouse, they change the location from time to time in case the cops get too suspicious.” “Sounds more exciting by the minute,” she replied flippantly, “I hope it lives up to its billing.” “Gail,” he said softly, “are you sure you wanna go through with this, I heard it gets pretty rough in there, and well, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” “Why Jeffery,” she said in a mocking tone, “if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were worried about me.” “Okay,” he replied, “don’t say I didn’t warn you,” and they made the rest of the trip in silence.

Jeff turned onto Port St. and said to Gail, “We’re looking for number 318, see anything like that on any of those buildings?!?” “Uh, it’s so dark I can barely see, wait a minute, that one said 511, it’s a good two blocks more,” she replied, “it’s up there, I can see some cars parked under that street lamp.” Jeff found a spot about a half a block from the club and the two of them walked arm in arm the rest of the way. There was a bouncer standing by the front door with a flash light, checking id’s, and seeing as how Jeff and Gail were in their late twenties, he just nodded his head and let them pass! Once inside, there was makeshift ticket booth set up, and a sign over the top that read, “Men $100.00-Couples $150.00-Single Women Free”. “Wow,” Gail said, “not cheap, I’ll split it with you, I didn’t realize it was this much.” “Forget it,” he replied, “let’s go inside.”
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Mile High Club

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Trent Boyd hefted his small attache’ case into the over head compartment and sat down in the aisle seat and waited for the 737 to take off. Leaving the bone chilling cold of Detroit to spend a long weekend in New Orleans was enough to bring a smile to the face of any seasoned traveler! One stop over in Memphis, and it would be good by Woodward Ave. and hello Bourbon Street! This would be Trent’s sixth visit to the Crescent City and it was definitely his favorite destination, with all the food, booze and women to be had! His day dream was abruptly interrupted, however, when he chanced to see an absolutely stunning black haired beauty dragging an over night bag down the aisle, obviously looking for her seat. Every male eye in the plane followed her every step, the result of which was a slight jiggling of her oversized chest underneath her skin tight sweater! To Trent’s utter delight, she stopped at his row, rechecked her ticket stub, and hoisted her bag into the over head, and slipped past him into the window seat next to his. Usually in cases like this, Trent’s usual experience would have been that this lovely creature would turn out to be an ice queen, but to his happy dismay, she stuck out her hand and said, “I’m Sonja, Sonja Fletcher!” He took her hand, and replied, “Trent Boyd’s the name, glad to meet you, New Orleans or Memphis!?!”
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