Gale Roman - Swinging wife

One of these days, Sally vowed, now that their fuck was over with, she was going to get back at Bill for forcing her to go to such extremes just to get laid by her own husband. Yes, one of these days…

The minute Bill left for Ohio, Sally felt as tough she had been given a new lease on life. Just knowing that Bill would be gone for a week was like a vacation for her. She wouldn't have to worry about getting dinner ready for him, or being interrupted in her love-making with whomever happened to be in the house. It was a sense of freedom she hadn't experienced in a long time, and Sally was as grateful as she was horny.

She decided to go out. Going to a bar was a pleasure not often available to Sally. How on earth could she explain her absence? But now, knowing how long Bill would be gone, she could find someone to suck and fuck with to her heart's content. She considered inviting Lisa to join her, but Lisa would never be able to leave either her kids or her husband. Sally would have to go by herself.

The night after the morning that Bill left, Sally dressed carefully. When she had put the finishing touches on her make-up, she surveyed herself in her mirror.

Sally, you look good! she told herself without modesty. I could almost eat you myself! And she laughed at the impossible idea. Don't worry about getting your box eaten out tonight, honey, she chided herself. There'll be someone more than happy to do it for you! With one last fond smile at her image, Sally got into her car and drove towards The Den.

Though she felt a little self-conscious about going to a bar by herself, Sally had enough confidence in her appearance to carry her project through. She had been to The Den before, but with Bill. Tonight was the first time that she had attended the place unescorted.

When she entered the bar, some of the men turned to look at her. Sally accepted their stares in good grace. After all, it was a compliment to her appearance. She sauntered towards the bar, her tight slacks accenting the high roll of her ass.

The bartender perked up as Sally slid onto her stool. "Hi," he began. "What can I get you?"

Sally toyed with the idea of saying a big, fat prick and changed her mind. Though she was obsessed with sex, she knew everyone else wasn't. Why, she didn't know. But she still wasn't about to come on too strong in this bar.

"Give me a Beefeater Martini," Sally said at last. "Very dry."

Pete turned away to mix a pitcher of martinis, and Sally lit a cigarette. She wondered how long it would be before the pianist showed up. She knew the minute live music filled the room, people would start to get bold. Just then, Pete set her martini in front of her.

"Enjoy," he advised.

Sally smiled at him before taking a sip. He was handsome, but that did not surprise her. Very seldom had she seen an ugly bartender. It wasn't good for business.

Sally sat sipping her drink, trying not to look too obvious. Pete returned once and placed some cheese and crackers in front of her. Soon the martini began to go to her head, making her personal problems fade into an alcoholic haze. She began to feel competent again, sure of her femininity and anxiously confident that she would meet someone that very evening who would dispel the loneliness of her life and make her feel alive again.

She no longer felt self-conscious sitting at the bar. She felt as though she belonged in The Den as much as anyone else. Let them assume she was meeting someone there. She was, in a way. Though it was not prearranged.

Several couples were moving on the tiny dance floor now and Sally watched them, smiling. She saw how the women brushed against the men and how the men in turn rubbed against the women. It was all a kind of ritual, and Sally enjoyed watching it. She only wished there was someone who she wanted to dance with. But a quick appraisal of the room disappointed her. She turned back to her drink, polished it off with one neat swallow and ordered another one from Pete.

He was busier now, and it took him a few minutes to mix her a fresh drunk. Placing it in front of her with a smile, he also put her tab down. Not having anything better to do, Sally flipped the bill over with her fingers and glanced at it. As Sally sat idly staring at her bill, she became aware of someone sliding onto the next booth. She could smell his masculine scent even before she heard his deep voice ordering a drink. Not daring to look directly at her new companion, Sally stared straight ahead, sipping her drink daintily.

"When you're through with that, let me buy you another one," the voice offered.

She turned with a wide smile. She liked men who were generous before, not afterwards!

"Why thank you," she replied brightly. "That would be very nice!"

She was relieved to see that he was very handsome. She gauged him to be in his mid-forties, but he had the kind of well-kept body that turned her on.

His smile provided a white contrast to his tan, and she assumed he played golf or tennis. His hair was black, but beginning to grey at the temples. Sally liked that, also. There was something so irritatingly boyish about her husband Bill, that she welcomed the presence of authority, even if it only meant age.

He raised his glass towards her and said: "To the young lady on my left. Whomever she might be!"

They drank deeply of their poison.

"I haven't seen you here before," the man went on. "By the way, my name is Ziggy."

"Sally," she demurred, careful to leave off her last name.

She noted that the suit he was wearing was expensive and grey. The idea that this man was wealthy turned her on. Though Sally had nothing against fulfilling her insatiable sexual desires with any attractive person that was available, she always flashed faster on people with money.

Pete approached them then, and Sally noticed how Pete seemed to defer to this man. Ziggy merely pointed to Sally's glass and Pete was quick to whisk it away. When he returned with the fresh martini, he made no move to either pick up her tab or ask Ziggy if the treat was on him.

Just then, the pianist entered the place. Shortly after he had set up his music sheets, the small bar was filled with the kind of tinkly music Sally thought went out with cocktail parties in the forties. Even the pianist nodded to Ziggy. As Sally sipped her drink, she felt as though she had met someone who could take care of her. Not only in bed, but in other ways as well.

She was facing him now, having swiveled around on her, stool so that her legs were between his spread ones.

Ziggy put his hand on hers as she went to take a fresh cigarette from her pack.

"Here," he offered. "Let me."

Sally wasn't about to argue with him. She welcomed the fact that he was so willing to run the whole show. She could feel her panties getting wet with cunt-juice.

Not only did he reach for her cigarette and light it, he inhaled deeply on the slender white stick before placing it between her lips. Sally looked long and deep into his eyes. She knew the cigarette was only a symbol for his own prick. Though she could have saved a lot of time by advising him she would be happy to suck him off, she enjoyed the game as much as he did.

"I know it sounds corny," he began in his deep voice, "but what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Silly laughed. "What's wrong with this place?" Now it was his turn to laugh. "Nothing," he agreed. "I own it!"

Far-out! Sally thought, though somewhere deep inside her she wasn't surprised.

"Are you waiting for someone?" he asked delicately, his dark-blue eyes boring deeply into hers.

Sally shook her head. "You don't mind if unescorted women drink alone in your bar, do you?" she countered.

Ziggy smiled. "Not when they have as much as you!" he told her.