My Wife Pulls a Train in Biker Bar

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I had been battling the flu for nearly a week and had a high fever, so I was in no mood, nor condition, to be going out, anywhere. It was a Thursday night and I was sitting in my recliner, in front of the TV, covered up with several blankets and shivering like a wet pup, from a high fever. My wife, Brandie, had been invited to go out by one of her girlfriends and have a little fun for the evening. I didn’t have any objection. There wasn’t anything she could do for me, other than sit around and watch me suffer, besides, I was sleeping most of the time anyway, so I wasn’t even good company for conversation. So my wife got ready to go out.

By the time she was ready to go, I was sleeping again, but she woke me up to let me know she was leaving and to see if I needed anything before she left. When I opened my eyes, my wife was wearing one of my favorite outfits.

She had on a very shear, white, nylon blouse, with long, see through sleeves on it. The blouse is actually not a “blouse”, it’s really the top to a lingerie set that my wife had bought one time for sexy evening wear, but she liked it so much and thought it was so sexy and pretty, that she liked to wear it out sometimes as a blouse. The entire blouse was very shear and completely see through, except for the collar, sleeve cuffs, the trim down the front where the buttons and button holes were, and two strategically placed pockets on the front that covered her tits, they were all solid silk. She was wearing a very sexy, lacy, white, hook in the front, Fredrick’s push up bra, that accentuated her gorgeous 38C tits and cleavage. Depending on where my wife was going to be wearing this blouse, she sometimes wore a camisole under it, tonight she wasn’t.

Her skirt was a short, black, shiny nylon skirt, with a split in the back of it that gave you a pretty good view of the upper portion of her thighs and also let you see that she was wearing a pair of very high quality, shear black, with seams up the back, thigh high stockings that had lace around the tops of them. As she walked, or especially if she was shooting pool, it was very easy to see the tops of her stockings and the bare portion of her tanned, sexy legs, above the stockings, and just below her ass cheeks. I lifted the front of the skirt with the tip of a finger to see that she was wearing a red, lacy thong, that did little to cover her cleanly shaved pussy and it certainly didn’t cover any of her ass!

The shoes matched the thong and the handbag she was carrying for the evening, they were all a dark red, the handbag and shoes were both velvet. The shoes were high heeled pumps with straps that came up the back of her ankle then wrapped around her ankle with a tiny delicate strap, and tiny gold buckle on the outside of each ankle. These shoes were sexy, and HOT as Hell! As if you needed any other excuse to look at my wife’s sexy legs, she wore a heavy gold anklet around her left ankle that glinted anytime it caught a ray of light in a dimly lit barroom and it brought your attention to the delicate flower tattoo on the outside of her left ankle, that was clearly visible through her shear stockings.

My wife was mid 50’s at the time, 5’7″ tall. She has blond hair and stays tanned year round from the sun, and/or her tanning bed. At mid 50’s, my wife could easily pass for 40ish and she had legs that many women 15-20 years younger than her would kill to have! She carried a little more weight around her middle than she would have liked, but she was still a looker, and garnered men’s attention anywhere she went, especially when she was dressed this sexy. Her outfit, makeup, meticulously manicured fingernails and lipstick, (dark red, matching her handbag and shoes), nearly shoulder length blond hair, all combined to make my wife, Brandie, look absolutely fantastic! She was sexy as Hell, nearly slutty in her appearance, (mostly because of the split in the skirt and see through blouse), but just classy enough to look like a well mannered and well kept woman.

I could see her girlfriend, Emily, who had invited her out for the evening, was standing behind my wife, in the door of the living room that went into the dining room. Emily was 20 years younger than Brandie, and was single. She was wearing a shiny blue nylon, or silk pantsuit, and black leather, high heeled pumps. Emily might have been 20 years younger than my wife, but Brandie was sexier, and whenever the two of them went out together, my wife always got more attention that Emily did. Emily was a little plain, but wasn’t ugly, her ass was a little too wide for the rest of her body, but she did alright getting her share of men too, when she wanted them. Emily also didn’t drink alcohol, so I was always pleased when she went out with my wife, I knew that Brandie wouldn’t be driving.

After taking in the sexy sight of my wife in this favorite outfit, and especially noticing that she wasn’t wearing the camisole under the blouse, I asked her, “So, where are y’all going?”

She replied, “We’re going down to ‘Strokers’ and just hang out, have a few drinks, make girl talk, and watch the football game. Emily wants to see if she başakşehir escort can find a ride for the upcoming Toy Run.”

The local NFL team was playing Thursday night football that night and I sure wasn’t going to watch it at home. Brandie didn’t want to disturb me by trying to watch it while I was sick in my chair. Yeah, I could have gone to bed, but it was just a little more excuse for her to go out. I didn’t mind.

“Strokers” was a biker bar that we went to once in awhile, Brandie and I are bikers. We both ride our own Harleys. The bar was on the riverfront, with the back of the bar facing the river. There was a covered patio on the back of the bar that was enclosed by a privacy fence that ran off each end of the building and down over the brushy embankment towards the river. Because of the privacy of the patio, more than a few drunk women have given up a piece of ass on the picnic tables to one, or more bikers, while others watched, my wife was one of them. One hot summer night, my wife fucked me and a friend of mine on one of those picnic tables, while several other men stood around watching and cheering us on.

One other cool feature of Strokers, was that the front windows and door of the bar were coated with a mirror tint, sort of like those mirror sunglasses you see some people wearing, so that you could see out, from inside the bar, but from outside, no one could see in.

The owner of “Strokers” was a 60 year old biker by the name of Howard. Howard allowed bikers to wear their “colors”, (their club vests), into the bar, but it was understood that the bar was neutral territory, no motorcycle club owned the bar, and everyone got along, or Howard would throw you out, quick and in a hurry. For the most part, it was a pretty peaceful and cool place for bikers to party without any hassles. Howard had a very young, hot looking, brunette girlfriend, mid 20’s, who kept his books and sometimes bar tended for him.

I assured my wife that I would be fine, home alone, and that if I really needed her, I would call her to come home. I told her to go ahead and have a good time and if she had a “really good time”, (she knew I meant if she got any sex action, and the way she was dressed, I suspected that she might), to make sure she told me about it when she got home.

Brandie kissed me, then she and Emily went out to get into Emily’s car, and go. I must have fallen asleep pretty quickly after they left, because other than a couple of times to get up to pee, take some medicine, and hydrate with some fruit juices, I don’t remember much, until Brandie came home, at 4 AM, the next morning!

I woke up, hearing my wife calling my name. I immediately knew I still had my fever, I started shaking as soon as I woke up. Before I even opened my eyes, I was struck by two very strong scents. The smell of tequila, my wife’s favorite alcoholic beverage, and SEX! I could distinctly smell that my wife had been fucking! When I opened my eyes, I was shocked at my wife’s appearance!

Her hair was a mess. Her makeup blotched and streaked, her lipstick was completely gone. The top two buttons of her blouse were gone, but the blouse didn’t appear to be torn, only the bottom two buttons held it closed so that it was opened to her waist, and her bra was missing! Her black, nylon skirt was rumpled and not straight, I looked under it, and her thong was missing along with the bra. Her stockings were all askew, neither one was pulled up tight so they were both wrinkled, one was lower than the other and the seams on the back were completely crooked. And more shocking than the rumpled appearance of her clothing, was that my wife was obviously covered in dried cum! She had it in her hair, on her neck and chest. It was on her blouse. Her black skirt had obvious dried cum on it. Her stockings were encrusted with it between her legs and she even had a glob of dried cum on the top of one of her red velvet shoes! As she stood there, allowing me to look her up and down, Brandie didn’t say a thing.

I broke the silence saying, “What the Hell happened to you? Did you get gang-banged, or something?”

She said, “Yeah, something like that.”

Then before I could ask another question, my wife opened her handbag and reached into it, while simultaneously saying, “I had sex with a bunch, (and she kind of emphasized the word bunch), of guys tonight and each one paid me $50 a piece to do it.”

Then she dropped a large wad of money onto the blankets in my lap. As I stared at the cash and tried to absorb what she had just told me, Brandie dropped her handbag onto the love seat, then stepped back, away from me, towards the other side of the living room. She flopped down on the couch with her head away from me so that she could look at me, and she put one foot up on the couch while leaving the other on the floor, giving me a perfect view of her swollen, reddish, obviously, very well used pussy between her legs!

I was having a difficult time focusing, because of my fever, and the fact that I had just woke up, and I was trying to understand bayrampaşa escort what my wife was telling me. I looked at her, and at the big wad of money in my lap, back and forth a couple of times, then I blurted out, “How many? How many men did you fuck?”

Brandie was laying on her back, with the back of her left hand on her forehead, her elbow against the back of the couch, her eyes closed. I knew she was drunk and I didn’t want her to pass out I wanted to know what the Hell had happened!

Louder this time, I almost shouted, “How many men did you fuck?”

Brandie shuddered as if I had startled her, and she said, “I don’t know. I wasn’t keeping track. Count the money and you tell me.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! My wife had fucked so many men that she didn’t know how many, and the large roll of cash in my lap told me it was…a LOT! I picked up the money, there was one, $100 bill, a couple of $50’s and the rest was $10’s and $20’s. I started counting, but because of my shaking and fever, I lost track and had to start over a couple of times. When I finally got it all counted, there was $1500 there! HOLY SHIT!

I did as quick a calculation in my head as my feverish brain would allow, and I almost screamed across the room, “There’s $1500 dollars here! At $50 bucks a piece, you fucked 30 men?”

It was as much a question as it was statement of fact.

Again, my wife bolted as I yelled, because she was almost asleep. Now that her eyes were open and I knew she could hear me, I repeated myself.

Slowly, my wife said, “No. No. I didn’t fuck all of them. I gave several blow jobs, jerked a few guys off, and it must not have been 30, it was probably 29. They were paying $50 for 15 minutes a piece and one guy paid for 30 minutes, that’s where the hundred dollar bill came from.”

My wife and I had been into the HOT Wifing lifestyle for nearly 20 years at the time. We had done a lot of crazy sexual shit during all that time and she had done a few small gang-bangs from time to time. I had seen my wife fuck literally hundreds of men since we first met and married. But her having sex with 29 men in one night, and doing it for money, was the wildest and craziest thing I had ever known her to do! Despite my illness and fever, I started to get sexually aroused, my heart was pounding and I wanted to know more. I wanted to know every fucking detail of the entire night! A thousand questions started running through my brain and I started to ask them.

My feverish mind wouldn’t let me get an exact calculation of it, but I said to Brandie, “If you had sex with 29 men tonight, you must have been having sex almost constantly the whole night long! How did you have time to get drunk?”

She looked at me kind of quizzically, like she was confused about what I meant and why I would say that, because she had been there, and she obviously knew she hadn’t been having sex, “constantly”, all night long.

I could tell that in her drunken state she didn’t understand me, so I said, “At 15 minutes with each of 29 men, I don’t have the exact figure, but that must have taken a looooong time,” I drug out the word long, to give it emphasis and make her understand what I meant.

It hit her, what I meant, “Oh. No. I wasn’t having sex all the time. Most of the guys didn’t take the whole 15 minutes. I did several of them two at a time and those should have taken 30 minutes, but in reality, they probably didn’t take much more than the 15. The one guy that paid for 30 minutes took his whole 30. The last 8 guys I did, gang-banged me all at once, that’s where I got most of this dried cum in my hair and on my clothes. Emily was the time keeper,” my wife laughed at that thought and continued, “I did all of them in the women’s bathroom except the last 8 that gang-banged me, Howard had closed the bar by then so we just did that out in the bar…”

My drunken wife was rambling, and I wanted to know what Emily being the time keeper had to do with what she was trying to tell me, so I interrupted her and said, “What’s Emily being the time keeper got to do with this?”

“Oh! Well she was suppose to knock on the bathroom door when we were down to 3 minutes and then really pound on it at the end of 15, to make sure none of the guys went over their time limit, but she only had to give a couple of 3 minute warnings and only had to pound on the door, for the first guy, and the guy who paid for 30 minutes, so these guys weren’t taking 15 minutes every time,” Brandie was having difficulty speaking clearly and coherently, she was rambling, really drunk, and pretty sleepy.

I knew I wasn’t going to get too many more details about this tonight, but I wanted to know one more thing. “How did this all get started,” I asked?

Then swinging her legs to the side and sitting up on the couch, leaning back against the back cushions, my wife started to ramble, “One guy offered me $50 bucks for 15 minutes with me in the bathroom and I was just buzzed enough to say, OK, what the heck, and so we had sex, then a few minutes later beşiktaş escort another guy paid $50 bucks for his 15 minutes and I said what the heck, and after that it just got rolling and I didn’t know how to stop it.”

I wanted to ask her more, but my fever was beginning to overtake my sexual arousal, which had only lasted a few minutes, and I knew Brandie needed a shower and some sleep. I told her to go take a shower and we would go to bed and talk more about this when the sun came up. After her shower, my wife got in the bed with her hair still wet, (she never does that), and she was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Despite the fact that I had slept almost all night already, and that I had all the images of my wife in my head having sex with 29 bikers in a bar, my fever made me fall asleep pretty damn quickly as well.

When I opened my eyes, and looked at my watch, it was just passed Noon on Friday. I instantly realized that my fever had broken and I felt 80% better than I had been for the last several days. My wife was still soundly sleeping in the bed next to me. I wanted to shake her awake and make her start telling me exactly what all had happened the night before, but I let her sleep. I went into my home office and sat down at my computer to start recording the details of what I knew so far, so that I could later write this story.

A few hours later, my wife got up and I started peppering her with question after question about exactly what had taken place the night before. For the next two and half days, all the way up until Monday, when we had to go back to work, this was the only topic of conversation between the two of us. During the day, as we went about our normal activities, ran errands, drove around in the car, and even sitting at tables in restaurants, we talked about it. As long as we weren’t in the direct presence of other people, we talked about nothing else. My wife only gave me the generalities of it all, the time line of events, the names, (of who she could remember, there were apparently many men she didn’t know), but she wouldn’t give me the explicit sexual details that I was wanting, and in fact, needed to hear.

Brandie, for all our kinky sexual lifestyle, isn’t one to talk “dirty”, and use the kind of explicit sexual language I wanted to hear, about the details of what had taken place. She won’t talk like that unless she is drunk, or horny, or preferably, both at the same time! So in order to get those explicit details that I wanted, we spent Friday and Saturday night in our home bar and pool room, just the two of us, drinking, listening to music, and talking about what had happened at Strokers. As I plied her with tequila shots and beer, I was constantly asking my wife questions. She was wearing a short, sleazy, nightie, and occasionally, as she got higher on the booze, I would get her to stand between my knees as I sat on a bar stool and I would make out with her, kissing her neck, licking and sucking on her tits and nipples, and fingering her pussy as she told me those explicit sexual details that I was trying to drag out of her. Or, as she sat on her stool, I might stand behind her, kissing her neck and rubbing her tits with my hands, letting one, or both of my hands occasionally slide down to her legs and what lay between them.

During one particularly effective “enhanced interrogation technique”, (I doubt anyone would consider what I was doing “torture”, but it sure was effective), I had my wife on the pool table and was eating her pussy while she gave me answers to my questions. I would stop licking and nibbling her pussy to ask another question, when she stopped talking, so to keep my mouth working on her pussy, my wife’s answers to my questions were lengthy, and very detailed!

On Saturday morning, while Brandie was still sleeping, I sat at my computer making notes from what she had told me the night before, and I repeated that on Sunday morning from Saturday night’s interrogation. Over the years, since this happened, we have occasionally spoken again about that night, and I have sometimes mined a new nugget of information that I hadn’t previously heard.

So now, I am going to tell you the story about what happened to my wife, Brandie, that night, in Strokers biker bar, when she had sex with 29 men, for $50 each, for 15 minutes with her. I’m going to tell you the story from her perspective, in her voice, as if she were telling the story to me, from start to finish, without the interruption and back and forth conversation of the thousands of questions it took to get this story out of her. Enjoy!

When Emily and I went into the bar, we sat on a couple of bar stools at the end of the bar, with the women’s bathroom right behind us. There were about a dozen, or so bikers, sitting at tables in the bar watching the big screen TV, getting geared up for the game to start. It was about 6:30 PM, pregame was on the TV. Emily and I were the only two women in the place and when we walked in, dressed the way we were, we got some hoots, hollers, and whistles from the guys, some of whom I knew and recognized. Howard served us some drinks, Emily drinking sodas, and of course I started drinking a margarita with tequila shots. We sat there making small talk, sometimes talking to Howard, watching highlights on the big screen, and Emily was checking out the bikers, asking me about the ones I knew. She was looking for one, who could give her a ride in the Toy Run coming up next month.

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