Copyright 2017 Lara Flynn
Published by Lara Flynn
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This work of fiction is an explicit sexual fantasy. No characters are under 18 and this story is intended for adults only, please.
Boys’ Night Out: The Savage Room
by Lara Flynn
Once a month my husband, Brad, and his closest friends have a ‘Boys Night Out’ and once a month I’m left to wonder what the hell they are doing out so late. Cards and drinking at Andy’s house, he says. Sometimes I’m sure that’s true, but sometimes he turns off his GPS and I wonder why.
So, this night, I donned a baseball hat and overcoat and followed him. I felt pretty sheepish parked up the street from Andy’s, hidden behind a trash dumpster.
I waited just ten minutes, all the while berating myself for being a sneaky, suspicious, woman, when the group of them came out the front door, laughing and jumping around. Brad, Andy, George, Billy and Antonio: the usual suspects. The five of them were pumped for some reason.
I was praying none of them were parked over my way. God! What would I say if they caught me? How embarrassing.
And then I noticed Brad was wearing a shirt and jacket over his jeans—he’d left the house in t-shirt and jeans. All the guys, including Billy, his cute fireman friend, were wearing shirts and jackets. While I pondered this, Billy jogged towards me and I thought at first I’d been caught! I ducked down lest he recognize my car and I held my breath. I needn’t have worried.
They were all super preoccupied and Billy didn’t take a second look at my car. I angled the side mirror down and watched as he opened his car door across the street and pulled off his shirt. It was quite a view.
He had the kind of body you just wanted to slide your fingers over. Mmmm. After throwing on a button down shirt and jacket like the other guys, he opened the glove box and pulled out an envelope full of one-dollar bills.
Where the hell were they going? Why were they all wearing sports jackets?
Smiling and waving the stack of bills at the guys, Billy walked back over to Andy’s driveway just as their Uber ride showed up. I knew they were up to something but I still felt a little guilty for following them around.
We drove past downtown and towards the airport and I almost lost them at the train tracks. Eventually, we all arrived at their destination, a large, black painted warehouse on the far side of a parking lot. I drove past the driveway as they piled out and disappeared inside the building.
Pulling over, I took out my binoculars and watched as a couple of other guys made their way towards the front door.
There was no signage on the building—I guess you’d have to know where you were going.
Each of the men pulled back their jackets to expose tags dangling from chains around their necks and the two bouncers, dressed in jeans and tight black t-shirts, readily admitted them.
‘Dang!’ I thought. ‘You have to have a membership to get inside.’
Just then, a car pulled up and a handsome couple got out. He was wearing a suit and she sported stiletto heels, a tiny skirt and a shock of thick, long red hair.
As they sidled up to the bouncers, I exited my car, threw on my overcoat and walked toward the entrance. One bouncer was pointing to a flyer taped to the door. I hadn’t noticed it before. The sign said, ‘No Women Allowed.’
Goddamn it. I wasn’t going to be able to get in at all! The bouncer walked the couple over to a pink door on the side of the building, guarded by another bouncer. The man kissed his woman, felt her behind, squeezing gently, and then both bouncers did the same to her! She just giggled and slipped inside the building. “Hmmm,” I muttered to no one, “A woman’s entrance? Price of admission is a grope?”
I realized the front entrance was unguarded at that moment. Now was my chance! I hurried to the entrance, slipped inside the building and tucked my hair up under my baseball hat. I could hear thumping music and competing sets of applause.
Ahead of me, up the darkened hall, I could see the two men who had previously gained admittance, snickering and pointing at signs over some of the doors. These guys reminded me of Brad and his friends when they were ordering pizza. Negotiating by extolling the virtues of ham and cheese versus sausage and peppers. The men finally came to a consensus, knocked on a door and disappeared inside.
I was now alone and began moving up the hallway. The first door I came to had a picture on it of two women in schoolgirl outfits, a blonde and a brunette, holding hands with one hand and ripping their shirts open with the other, exposing their pert breasts. A sign over the door boasted ‘The School Room’.
The next door up the hallway had an African American woman in a bikini bending over, her ass in your face, looking between her legs at the camera. The sign said ‘The Sweet Chocolate Room.’
I kept moving up the hallway, shocked that this is where my husband would choose to hang out with his friends. I tried to convince myself that the room they chose would be ‘the Gambling Room.’
The next room’s door depicted a gorgeous woman with enormous breasts (The Big Tits Room); the door after that one showed an enormous, hard cock being licked by five women (The Blow Job Room). That’s probably where he was, but how would I know?
Just then the door at the very end of the hallway opened up and it was Billy! So that’s where they were!
I turned right around and pretending I was just another horny guy, I busied myself admiring a picture on the door to ‘The Jackoff Room’. A woman was fucking herself with a huge dildo. I was glad he wasn’t in here!
How could she do that and let someone photograph it? How did she have the guts? How did she take that enormous dildo into her pussy? Billy walked over to a cigarette vending machine, just feet from where I was. My heart was pounding so hard I could hardly breathe—surely he would hear it!
He pulled a pack of Marlboros out of the machine and went back inside the room at the end of the hallway. I took a deep breath and decided to follow him.
The sign over the door said, ‘The Savage Room. Jackets required.’ Any hopes it was just a gambling room were dashed when I inspected the picture below the sign. It was filthy like none of the others. A close up of a creaming pussy, full of dripping chiz stared back at me.
I swallowed, hard. Oh, no! What kind of women was he in there with? I felt intensely jealous, but, at the same time, I could feel my pussy was getting wet. I knocked on the door.
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