Yesterday,I had a rare opportunity to visit a bar and lounge that's a short distance from the apartments where we lived when I met Victor and Curt.
It wasn't the first time I've been back in the area in recent years. We have family living near there now,so I've been reluctant to play there,although it's always tempting. It's where I was broken in and now obviously addicted to interracial sex.
I guess the nostalgic lure and my hyperactive libido overrode my sense of judgement and caution.
I've been asked about my wearing of Queen of Spades jewelry and items that identify me as being on the prowl for black men. I acquired a substantial collection of that stuff a year or so ago. I wore it often for a month or two,then I just stopped for no particular reason. I guess I usually don't think I need it to get attention. A few months ago,we had a fire that effectively ruined our home and destroyed or damaged many of our belongings. All of those items survived undamaged. I can't explain why,but I've since started wearing some of it again on occasions where it seems fitting.
It's been cold everywhere for the past few days,so dressing skimpily isn't an option.
I wore jeans and boots,and a long denim coat over a white tank top with an image of a woman riding a black bull,and hoops in my ears,a Q dangling from the left and a spade from the right.
The location of the bar is key. It's not only walking distance from several motels,but also the post. The patronage is racially mixed to such a degree that it might be majority black one hour and majority white the next. It's not a big place,and not a real party atmosphere,but more a place to play a game of pool and unwind with friends or meet new ones. There are such places everywhere we were while in the Army,and they've become of special interest to me lately. It's natural for me,within my comfort zone. Although it's been some time since I actually was one,I still feel like I'm an Army wife,and this locale is where I found my niche.
Once inside,we found a table near the back,where it was warmest,away from the door and near an arrangement of pool tables. Old habits. I kept my coat on for a while,but let it fall open. It wasn't long until my tank top was noticed,and I suspect also the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.
Everybody in there was younger than us,most of them much younger.
I got knowing smiles from one young black soldier,then another and another,all of which I returned,pretending to blow a kiss to one who's eyes lingered in an appreciative way.
My hubby excused himself to go to the men's room,and everything went as expected. An offer of a *******,followed by my acceptance and invitation for the one to whom I had blown the kiss to sit with us. The small talk went directly to Army related things,places we had been and the like.
I noticed one of the pool tables had become available,and asked if we could shoot a game of pool. I'm not good at pool. I never have been,but I enjoy trying,and I really enjoy being given lessons.
As I stood and started to remove my coat,my hubby instinctively helped me out of it. The magnitude and my perception of the moment might have been somewhat exaggerated because of where we were,but I know I heard appreciative sounds as I walked the few steps to the pool table. It felt good to have their attention. It has always been an ego necessity for me to have them like what they see and want me. The mental and emotional aspect of that kind of experience is of no less importance to me than physical sex. I don't expect everybody to understand,and for those who do,my hubby most of all,I'm truly grateful. I felt really good about myself and how I looked.
I walked slowly toward the table in a way that would've surely gotten Curt's approval. I'm aware of my extra junk in the trunk these days,and I'm convinced that it isn't a bad thing. I like the way my butt looks in tight jeans,and the high boots helped too. My tits are still one of my best assets,and I like showing them. I don't know why I'm including this critique of my body,but since I've gone this far,I'll admit that I'm not a hundred percent happy with my waistline,but it's good enough that when it's warm,I'm willing to bare it to show my pierced navel and the spade I wear in it.
I selected a cue that felt balanced to me,acting as if I actually knew what I was doing,then waited while one of the guys racked the balls. I could feel their eyes on me from all angles as I leaned over the pool table. It felt wonderful! My heart was racing and I could feel myself starting to perspire. And to think I had been chilly a short time before that. Whew!
I made a lot of noise as I made the break,prompting a question from one guy who asked if I was always so loud. I acted as if I seriously considered the question before answering;No,not always. The pun was clear and opened the door for me to be as flirtatious and suggestive as I wished.
I was pleased that two balls went in the holes until I noticed that it had been one of each. My lack of skill in playing pool was immediately as obvious to all of them as the tank top and earrings I wore. That provided both them and me the opportunity I had counted on,lessons that included potent young black men leaning on me,holding my arms and hands,touching me in less than subtle ways. The touching quickly gave way to conspicuous groping of my most sensitive areas. Our progress lasted only into the second game before I became so aroused that I told them that they were going to have to get me out of there or they would have to fuck me right there in the bar. There was a moment of awkwardness,a decision necessary for each of them. I broke the silence,telling them that we had a motel room. I hadn't counted how many of them there were,and I had no intention of doing so. It was clear that I was inviting all of them to come to our motel room to fuck me.
I walked back to the table where my hubby had sat silent for the whole time we were playing pool. He stood,and dutifully helped me into my coat. The young man who had been the boldest in feeling me up took my hand as we walked to the front of the bar and out the door. Once outside,it was evident that there were four men who were going with us. Seriously aroused,I stopped and leaned backward onto the tall young black soldier who had held my hand,telling them all to kiss me and touch me any way they liked.(Michael insisted that I do that in public. I was embarrassed at first,but I got over it and learned to enjoy it)
In the motel room,my hubby took my coat,hung it up,then knelt at the edge of the bed to unzip my boots and take them off. As he moved to the corner to set my boots out of the way,one of the men went for my zipper and started me out of my jeans. I attempted to help him,but felt myself being pulled backward as another of the men pulled my tank top over my head and off before pinning me to the bed,one tit in each of his hands. He kissed me upside down as I felt my jeans,then my panties being pulled off,then a hot mouth and tongue pressing firmly on my pussy,prompting me to a powerful orgasm no sooner than they were starting on me. The sexual energy in the room was palpable,and I knew I would be fucked as only young black men can do it. I thought for a moment about how I had come full circle. It was happening a stone's throw from where I was tutored by Curt and broken in by the crew. I knew I could please them,satisfy all of them and more.
I was aware of my hubby's presence as they took their turns with me. He was as still as if frozen,and I knew he liked what he was seeing. He's always loved watching me being fucked really thoroughly. All of their cocks were big,which wasn't a surprise. Besides the fact that I had felt enough when we were playing pool to know they were seriously hung,it was apparent in the way they behaved,their confidence. The tall one who had been the boldest all along was the biggest. I'm tempted to tell how big I think he is in terms of inches,but I know it would sound like I'm exaggerating. Bow me up big! Understood? I try to remember to look toward my hubby. It's not always easy to do,or even to remember to do when I'm being fucked so good that my vision gets blurry,but I know that I was looking straight at my hubby when the tall one emptied his first load of semen into my belly. The heat and wet feeling made me cum so hard I thought I might faint. It wouldn't have been the first time that happened.
Only one of the two beds got used,and that's also the one we slept in. Hubby has to sleep in the wet spots with me. It's important for me,because it's a confirmation that he knew what he was getting into when he married me. He accepted me the way I am and never tried to change me or control me.