Amateur Strip night Part 2

Best start here if you haven’t read Part 1! https://medium.com/@TracyTrouble/amateur-strip-night-at-the-local-pub-1f21e2c93837

This was my first flashing outing with Mary since my dogging experience and my brain didn’t go into panic mode at the advancing males. I wouldn’t call the guys handsome, but they were presentable, and I could happily bear them near me. Mary had no qualms at all and left her skirt bunched up around her waist.

“Hi Ladies, your two friends didn’t seem impressed with your show, but we were. Can we buy you a drink?” one asked, hardly able to make eye contact being too busy flitting his view between my exposed tits and Mary’s red skimpy knickers.

I didn’t want to ruin any fun Mary might be up for, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to be picked up by a stranger in a bar. It seemed different to the dogging experiences, and I didn’t have the protection of Chris. I’d let Mary head the conversation and see what transpired.

“That’s sweet of you,” she said, “but we’re just on a girly night out. Not looking to get fucked.”

Mary's forthright attitude now is such a change from her early days associating with me. I’m just not sure if I should take credit for it or be ashamed! No, that’s a lie. I should be ashamed, but I’m not. I’m proud to have given her back her self-confidence.

The man laughed, “Right. Okay, but we’d still like to buy you that drink. Your little show has made our evening.”

“Tell me,” I asked, “why didn’t you point us out to your other friends? Wouldn’t they have enjoyed the view?”

“We’re selfish bastards,” said the one who hadn’t yet spoken with a laugh. “Besides, there’s a couple of guys there who I wouldn’t wish on my mother-in-law!”

Considering the subject matter and the fact we were both semi-nude the conversation was relaxed, and I felt no stirring of my phobia so I said something that surprised me.

“That's very considerate of you. Thank you. Tell you what then, buy us a glass of wine and you can have a feel before returning to your mates.” I gave my tits a little shake. Where the words had come from I’ve no idea, but even after I’d said them I felt no panic. The guys needed no second offer. They asked what we were drinking and went to the bar.

Mary was staring at me. “You sure about this?”

“Positive. Did you want to do more?”

Mary looked towards the bar. “It’s tempting, but I guess you don’t, so I’ll be more than happy with a grope and then you in bed all night. But let’s move over there, less exposed. I’m not sure I want the entire crowd feeling me up.” We moved to a table tucked away and not visible from the main bar. When the men returned, they had a moment of panic thinking we’d done a runner. “Over here,” we called in unison. They put the drinks on the table and stood patiently awaiting an invitation.

My blouse was still open, hanging just over my nipples. I pulled it aside over one tit, smiled, and said, “Thanks for the drink. Help yourselves.”

One closed in. The moment of truth. I’d felt no stirring of my dragon until then, but I wondered what the man’s physical touch might do.

Nothing. Not as far as arousing the dragon, anyway. A different story regarding my libido. Not that that was slumbering, far too much sexual stimulus for that, but his touch ratcheted it up more than a few degrees.

He was gentle, with a soft grasp and little squeezes, then on to my nipple. I was coping. Fifty-fifty. I felt like a sprinter on starting blocks. Ready to fly at a signal. Yet at the same time my body was sending signals of enjoyment. My knickers were getting wet. Wetter! While wallowing in the touch of a male of the species. Progress again.

I noticed the other man’s hand disappear into Mary’s bra. She was less reticent than me in returning contact and her hand went to his groin.

“Mm, we have brightened your evening, haven’t we? Can I see?”

My god Mary! What have you become? My overarching feeling was of relief, though, that she had crawled out of the dark hole where she had been at the start of the evening.

The man glanced around. The snug remained empty apart from us, but he still appeared reluctant. “Here, let me help,” Mary soon had his zip down and a hand inside. He may have been reluctant to unzip himself, but he certainly wasn’t making any effort to stop Mary. She slipped his cock out and started wanking. My groper was still groping, and I looked up at his face.

“You fancy the same?” I asked. I doubt I would have got odds on what his reply would be, but it did surprise me. “Only if you’re okay with it.” The reply was perfect. I was in a quandary about whether I could do it, but his response gave me some reassurance. Some men are gentlemen!

I unzipped him and pulled his cock out. Joined Mary in wanking. Both men seemed more nervous about discovery than we were and I got the distinct impression they weren’t after prolonging their hand jobs.

So.

I picked up the pace. Alternated with my other hand, massaging my tit and cradling his balls. Sure enough, whether due to my technique or his desire to get it done before being discovered, he came. I hadn’t given thought to where his semen was going, but as I realised it was on its way, I thought of a finale that suited the evening we’d had. I held his cock. Aimed at my face. Closed my eyes. He exploded. Cum everywhere. All over my face. It was tempting to gather it on my fingers and suck them but I resisted. I felt so hot. Fancy getting a facial in the snug bar of a local pub! I glanced at Mary. She was still wanking her man. I had thought she might have progressed to a blow job, but no. Her man had still not come, so I leant in and whispered. “Get a facial, we’ll walk out covered in it.”

“God, yes!” came back the enthusiastic reply.

Her cock responded to the conversation by spewing its load. Mary almost missed it, but got her head down just in time. His load seemed less than the one I’d received, but more than enough to be obvious.

We sat back in our chairs, both grinning like Cheshire cats. We were drunk but whether it was the alcohol making us so brazen or the horny nature of the evening, I wasn’t sure.

The men tidied themselves up, said an ultra polite thank you, and returned to their group. We listened for sounds of bawdy laughter but heard nothing. The assumption being they kept their good luck to themselves. If so, I wondered what the reaction was going to be when we walked out with our semen makeup.

I despair. Nothing. How could anyone miss that? But they did.

We got outside, arm in arm giggling and laughing. No way were either of us driving home, so we called a lucky Uber driver.

Why I’ve called him lucky, I’ll reveal in the next blog.

Author’s note: Medium has changed the way they calculate the amount they pay us authors for what we post. I’m hardly a J K Rowling but what I did earn kept me in new knickers. Now those earnings have dropped to 10% of what they had been. (To 10%, not by 10%) And we were told it was for our benefit! I don’t like being ripped off, but will for the time being keep posting to see if I can recover those few £s. So please, please if you have enjoyed this little blog, do clap, it helps the little algorithm thingy think I’m human. XXX