Consider the Implications - Sex Stories

Consider the Implications

... expected. My wife had not displayed outrage or anger and no tears had been shed. She seemed willing to at least discuss the idea of opening our marriage. Back at work, I couldn’t concentrate between the anxiety of the upcoming discussion with my wife and daydreams of Amy. I gave up trying to get anything of consequence done and went home, telling my manager that I wasn’t feeling well. On the way home I passed the market where Amy worked. I made a mental excuse about needing some mouthwash and pulled into the market’s parking lot. Seeking Amy as I walked into the store, I was pleased to see her manning a cash register. I quickly made my way through the aisles and found a bottle of mouthwash. Making my way to the checkout lanes, I queued behind three other shoppers with full grocery carts. I took advantage of the position and studied the young redheaded beauty. Amy’s green eyes sparkled with humor as she joked with the customers. She definitely had a friendly and outgoing personality. Running out of grocery bags, she bent over. The Y-shaped waistband of her thong became visible above the waistline of her low-rise jeans. A perfect flash of whale tail, she definitely knew how to tease her male customers. My cock grew instantly hard and a smile spread across my face as I leered at Amy’s upturned backside. I didn’t avert my eyes quick enough and she caught me leering at her ass, she smiled knowingly. Blood was roaring so loudly in my ears, as it surged to my cock, that I could ...

... hardly hear her greeting. Instead of responding to her, I just grinned like an idiot. “You should have gone to the ten items or less lane,” she scolded, scanning my purchase. My voice squeaked as I replied, “Then I wouldn’t have gotten to see you.” “You’re sweet,” she giggled, wrinkling her button nose. “Uh, what’s the name of that club where you go to dance?” She bit her lip and the porcelain skin between her eyebrows furrowed in thought. She said with a low conspiratorial tone, “The Double Deuce Dance Club.” The club was so named because its owner was a former professional athlete who had worn the number twenty-two for the duration of his career. It was famous or infamous, depending on your point of view, as a place where young men and women could hook-up for casual sex. My cock twitched in my trousers. A hook-up with Amy would be a pleasurable extramarital sexual experience, without romantic meaning, procreation purpose or emotional connection. After telling Amy good-bye, I hobbled out to the parking lot not even trying to hide my boner. I got into my car and squeezed my thighs together, trying to hold off orgasm. My balls ached for release. Looking through the windows of my car, I ensured no one was around. I slipped my hand into my pocket and worked my cock out of my underwear without unzipping my trousers. Checking around my car again, I made sure no one could see into my vehicle. I didn’t relish the thought of getting caught spanking my monkey in the parking lot of the ...