Euryleia's 1st Level III Assignment

[Euryleia]

Peering through the windshield into the gloom, I tried to find a number on any of the darkened buildings bordering the narrow street. As we drove by an alley, there was a sound of crashing metal and breaking glass.

Clenching my fingers on the factory installed, leather wrapped steering wheel, I worried about my car. As much as I hated to drive my wife’s mini-van, I think I should have left my 2006 Pontiac G6 GTP convertible at home in the garage.

“Can you see anything?” I asked, glancing over to my right. I had to smile at the sight.

My wife, Brenda, was a very beautiful woman, with shoulder length blonde hair and a perfect complexion. Even with only the light from the street lamps, the sheer blouse she was wearing did nothing to hide her large tits. I didn’t hear an answer, so I lifted my eyes to meet hers and saw that she was frowning at me. “What?”

“You always talk to my boobs.”

“Not always,” I said with a half grin that she thinks is charming. “Only when you’re looking as fine as you do right now.”

Predictably, she blushed.

I marveled at how far I had managed to bring her. When I married her, fresh out of college, my wife was strictly missionary. It had taken years to get her willing to do wild and crazy things like having sex with the lights on or while the kids were still awake. The effort wasn’t all bad but I had spent many an hour between her legs with a mouthful of hair making sure that she climaxed hard and often. It would all be worthwhile, though, if my plans tonight worked out.

I had always been turned on by those photo spreads in the adult magazines with two beauties going hot and heavy with each other. It was my dream to see my wife get physical with another woman and then let me have sex with both of them. Of course, I left the second part out when I talked to her into it.

Over the past year, I had managed, through compliments, dirty talk and sexual teasing, to get her to do more than just think about the idea of some girl on girl action. That was why we were in one of the worst sections of town, searching for a bar I found mentioned in the women seeking women section of craigslist.

I could tell that she was feeling a little anxious. Brenda’s hands were twisting the hem of her mini-skirt, teasing me with little flashes of her upper thighs. Man, I was going to get lucky tonight. I could just feel it.

“There!”

I looked where her finger was pointing and could see a flickering neon Bud Light sign beside a nondescript door. Shaking my head, I was about to disagree when I saw the door open and a huge bouncer exit to take up a position in front of it. There was a cacophony of techno house music until the door swung closed.

“Good eye,” I told Brenda as I parallel parked in the next available spot. Coming around to the passenger side, I ushered my wife out and made sure to lock up the car.

We picked our way over the broken glass on the sidewalk and over to the green painted door. Brenda was being her usual pokey self, trailing along behind me. I had to grip her hand tightly because it was slick with sweat. There was no way I was going to let her back out now.

When we reached the bar, I gave the bouncer one of my winning smiles. This was the smile I closed deals with and I could usually count on it opening all doors.

Not this one, though.

The woman standing before the unmarked, metal door stared back at me. Crossing her tattooed arms across her well-endowed chest, she finally growled, “What the hell do you want?”

Sighing, I pulled my petite wife around in front of me. The resulting look of hunger on the bouncer’s face made me step up and embrace Brenda from behind.

The woman snorted. “Why don’t you just pee on her?” she asked.

I felt my face heat up as she held out her hand. “Twenty buck cover for you. I’m gonna let that gorgeous babe in for free.”

She leered at my wife and I was hard pressed not to roll my eyes at the pathetic attempt to be suave. Not in this lifetime, I thought to myself. Peeling off two twenty’s from the large roll I kept in my front pants pocket, I told her to keep the change.

The bouncer put her hand over the money and my fingers. She squeezed and not too gently, either. “Listen,” she hissed. “I know your type. If you cause trouble in here, we won’t call the cops. We’ll pound you ourselves.”

“We’re not looking for trouble, just a good time,” I declared.

Letting go of my hand, she opened the door and stepped aside. I waited until the door closed behind me before shaking out my throbbing fingers.

Pausing, I looked around and tried not to sneer. So this is what a lesbian bar looks like. It was small, dark and noisy. There were a few women dancing together on the postage stamp size space in front of the DJ and a few more playing pool against the back wall. There were about fifteen small tables scattered around the room and I directed Brenda toward an empty one, as far from the crowded bar as we could get.

“See anything you like?” I whispered after we sat down.

Brenda shook her head, her eyes on the stained tabletop. I wasn’t sure if she’d even managed to look around while we walked across the floor.

Sighing, I looked around for a server. Maybe a few drinks would loosen her up.

“Slumming?”

I looked over my shoulder at a young woman wearing a leather vest and mini-skirt. She was holding a tray, so I assumed she was the waitress. “Two draft beers,” I ordered.

To my surprise, the waitress squatted down beside my wife. “You don’t look like you want a beer, honey. Spike makes a delicious Cosmo. How about I bring you one of those?”

For the first time that evening, my wife smiled. Brenda nodded and murmured, “Thank you.”

In no time at all, the waitress was back with the drinks. My beer was perfect. It was icy cold with just the right amount of foam. “It shouldn’t surprise me that the bleached blonde dyke behind the bar could give good head,” I said with a laugh.

Brenda shook her head and glared at me.

“It’s just a joke, baby,” I told her. “Lighten up.”

At this time, I noticed a lanky, older woman wearing jeans and an honest-to-god plaid flannel shirt approaching our table. I mentally wondered where all the lipstick lesbians like on that Showtime program were hiding.

Without a word, the woman pivoted an empty chair and sat down on it backwards and crossed her arms over the backrest. Moving the toothpick in her mouth to the other side, she stared at us for a long couple of minutes.

“Hello?” I asked. “Was there something we could do for you?” I ignored Brenda’s frown at my sarcastic tone.

Taking out the toothpick, the woman asked, “What are you looking for?”

“Pardon me?”

“This isn’t the first time that a couple desperate to rekindle the spark in their marriage has come in here hoping to find a woman willing to join them for some fun and games.”

“We’re not desperate,” I told her, quite forcibly. “Our marriage is fine.”

“Right,” she answered with a roll of her eyes. “Tell me that you’re not here looking to find someone to take home?”

I shrugged. “What’s it to you if we are?”

“I’ve been deputized to see where your tastes run.”

“Why?”

“We want you breeders out of our bar as soon as possible. We figure you’ll leave once you’ve found what you’re looking for.”

I nodded at the reasoning. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

“Well, let’s get this over with.” The woman stood up and held out her hand. “Come on over to the bar and I’ll let you meet everyone.”

When I started to stand, she shook her head. “No, dude. You stay here.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s her choice, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” I stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words. My wife was staring at me, so I plastered a grin onto my face. “Of course,” I hurried to assure her. “Whatever you decide, dear, is fine with me.”

“Good. Don’t worry, she’ll be safe with me.”

I didn’t trust the woman as far as I could throw her skinny ass but I figured that they were only going to be across the room. I just hoped that Brenda didn’t get scared without me near her.

Alone at the table, I felt incredibly conspicuous. Looking around, I could see that I was the only man in the place. Dropping my hands into my lap, I adjusted myself and felt a surge of satisfaction. When it came right down to it, mine was the only real one in the place.

I drained my beer and drummed my fingers on the tiny table. Watching the women on the dance floor, I shifted in my seat and had to adjust myself again. As those nubile bodies writhed together to the pounding bass beat, it was getting difficult to find a comfortable position in my jeans for my hardening dick.

Almost magically, another glass of liquid gold appeared over my shoulder.

“Ready for another?” the waitress asked, as she waggled the frosted glass invitingly.

“Sure.” I sipped on the beer and cracked my knuckles. What was taking Brenda so long?

Squinting at the bar, I saw my wife sitting on a tall stool surrounded by potential suitors. There were fat ones and thin ones, tall ones and short ones, old ones and young ones. Man, I didn’t know lesbians came in so many different shapes.

My wife was the center of attention and obviously loved every second of it. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her so animated. She threw back her head as she laughed out loud. She glanced at me and then blushed at what the women were saying to her. She shook her head and I could hear exclamations of “Damn” over the blaring music.

She then reached out and felt the biceps of two of the preening peacocks. I cupped my balls and thought that they could compare their muscles all night long but they still wouldn’t be able to match me. I knew that Brenda needed a man between her legs

Finally, Brenda returned to the table, followed by a woman in a black leather jacket. The woman was about Brenda’s height with a boyish build. I glanced at her chest and tried not to grimace. Those things were hardly bee stings!

I forced a smile to my face. She certainly wasn’t my idea of a playmate but, if the night was a success, maybe I could pick the next time.

“Honey, this is Rain.”

The woman held out the chair for Brenda before she dropped into the empty seat beside her. Leaning aggressively on the table, Rain said, “Look, like I told the pretty lady, I don’t do men.”

“That lady is my wife,” I said, meeting her halfway across the table. I put my hand possessively over Brenda’s. There was no way I was going to let some little butch get away with any dominant posturing.

Brenda pulled her hand free and glared at me. “I’m more than just some trophy,” she exclaimed.

“Of course, dear,” I quickly agreed. Wishing I could wipe the smug look off Rain’s face, I protested, “That wasn’t the deal.”

Raising her hands, Rain said, “Whatever you thought the deal was, it’s changed.”

“Changed? By who?” I laughed. “You?”

“By this wonderful creature. Have you forgotten? I’m the one she chose.” Rain gave me a look.

I knew, then, that she knew what I had been planning. She was just daring me to keep arguing with her so she could blow my chance. Swallowing my snarl, I managed to ask, “What are your terms?”

“If we do this thing, you can watch but you can’t touch.” Her eyes burned into mine.

“Fine. If I can’t touch you, you can’t fuck her.” I smirked when she frowned. Did she really think that I didn’t see that unnatural bulge in her jeans?

Slowly, the scowl on her face changed into a shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’m going to make sweet, sweet love to this beautiful woman.” Rain lifted my wife’s hand to her lips and placed kisses along Brenda’s knuckles before turning it over and kissing and sucking on her palm.

Clenching my fists, I watched my wife melt at the touch of a tongue on her lifeline. That was my move, I thought angrily. It was one of the big guns I pulled out when Brenda was pretending not to be interested in sex. How dare she use it right off the bat!

Rain looked up at me, while keeping her mouth busy sucking on my wife's fingers. She eventually lifted her head and beamed. “I’ve always been a fan of the Star Trek philosophy of lesbianism.”

“Oh?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“It's my mission to explore strange, new bodies. To seek out new pleasure and new experiences. To boldly go where no woman has gone before.”

She and Brenda shared a laugh. I noticed that they were still holding hands.

As I felt acid churn in my stomach, I suddenly had the realization that Brenda was not the one getting fucked tonight.

[Mad Lews]

Good golly Ms Molly I like it!
A little over the top in places but hey.
The end game is priceless.
More critical evaluation will follow, do your stuff Dean.

Mad

[H Dean]

Well, I just went over this piece. I have a lot of things to hammer on. Unfortunately, I also have limited time...for now.

Some comments. The male perspective fucked you in the early parts. It wasn't natural feeling and some of what you wrote was awkward...not your normal stuff. That was the early parts. Towards the ending it felt like you got into it.

Quick tip from a guy who plays co-ed softball: Lesbians aren't that much different from men except that men aren't as nuts as most lesbians.

The opening - it was the worst part of the entire piece and sounded entirely forced - here it is:

Peering through the windshield into the gloom, I tried to find a number on any of the darkened buildings bordering the narrow street. As we drove by an alley, there was a sound of crashing metal and breaking glass. You tend to use "as" a lot and you need to use it less frequently. Try making it "Driving" and liven it up, while being more concise. Also "a sound" doesn't work as well as "the sound". Also "there was" is way to passive for this moment. The sound should crash into them if you want to make it sound alive.

I got the idea that this was a sleazy neighborhood - maybe well-known for dykes and trannies - rough and not terribly pleasant, but it was only hinted at. Set it up with, as Spock would say, some colorful metaphors. Notice, I siad dykes and trannies...you get a guy talking and we talk a lot like lesbians only nicer and more stable of mind.

Clenching my fingers on the factory installed, leather wrapped steering wheel, I worried about my car. As much as I hated to drive my wife’s mini-van, I think I should have left my 2006 Pontiac G6 GTP convertible at home in the garage. This paragraph was kind of awkward not very manly, at all. Guys don't clench anything but their assholes. They can "wrap" or "curl" but only our assholes get clenched...usually right before a prostate exam. Also, the order of the first sentence was flat. Put the real action at the front - that's worrying.


Here is another one I wanted to get out - this made me kind of cringe...

In no time at all, the waitress was back with the drinks. My beer was perfect. It was icy cold with just the right amount of foam. “It shouldn’t surprise me that the bleached blonde dyke behind the bar could give good head,” I said with a laugh.

No matter who says that it is weirdly phrased and, in a dyke bar, he should be surprised. But the "it shouldn't surprise me" and the "bleached blonde dyke" are really elongated shots at a the bartender. Guys are more concise and there might even have been a snicker..."Heh, who'd a thought that dyke would give such good head?"

Okay, there is more, but I don't have the time to really knock you over the head. I will try to get to more a little later...you know, when I can play "dutch boy" and plug all the holes.

I kill me!

[Nikita]

Hi Euryleia,

I really like the character descriptions here, a nice improvement from your level two assignment and this one. Brava.

[Mad Lews]

OK I don't have much to add, take it for what it's worth

Peering through the windshield into the gloom, I tried to find a number on any of the darkened buildings bordering the narrow street. As we drove by an alley, there was a sound of crashing metal and breaking glass.

Clenching my fingers on the factory installed, leather wrapped steering wheel,/ this is a little much for the typicle male thought , unless he's a used car salesman "leather wrapped" would do. I worried about my car. As much as I hated to drive my wife’s mini-van, I think I should have left my 2006 Pontiac G6 GTP convertible at home in the garage.

“Can you see anything?” I asked, glancing over to my right. I had to smile at the sight.

My wife, Brenda, was a very beautiful woman, with shoulder length blonde hair and a perfect complexion. Even with only the light from the street lamps, the sheer blouse she was wearing did nothing to hide her large tits.// "Even with only" is an awkward construct maybe drop that to The hazy light from...did nothing to hide ...tits...sheer blouse.I didn’t hear an answer, so I lifted my eyes to meet hers and saw that she was frowning at me. “What?”

“You always talk to my boobs.”

“Not always,” I said with a half grin that she thinks is charming. “Only when you’re looking as fine as you do right now.”

Predictably, she blushed.

I marveled at how far I had managed to bring her. When I married her, fresh out of college, my wife was strictly missionary. It had taken years to get her willing to do wild and crazy things like having sex with the lights on or while the kids were still awake. The effort wasn’t all bad but I had spent many an hour between her legs with a mouthful of hair//I know you have a but in there but you need some emphasis on his distaste for pussy lapping, here would be a good spot to use an "even though it meant" instead of a but ...and maybe a reminiscence of picking hair out from between his teeth making sure that she climaxed hard and often. It would all be worthwhile, though, if my plans tonight worked out.

I had,//passive voice go for I've instead always been turned on by those photo spreads in the adult magazines with two beauties going hot and heavy with each other. It was my dream to see my wife get physical with another woman and then let me have sex with both of them. Of course,// this fella wouldn't think in terms of his wife "letting him" more like "and then I'd do them both" I left the second part out when I talked to her into it.We just hadn't got around to discussing it yet

Over the past year, I had managed, through compliments, dirty talk and sexual teasing, to get her to do more than just think about the idea of some girl on girl action. That was why we were in one of the worst sections of town, searching for a bar I found mentioned in the women seeking women section of craigslist.

I could tell that she was feeling a little anxious. Brenda’s hands were twisting the hem of her mini-skirt, teasing me with little flashes of her upper thighs. Man, I was going to get lucky tonight. I could just feel it.

“There!”

I looked where her finger was pointing and could see a flickering neon Bud Light sign beside a nondescript door. Shaking my head, I was about to disagree when I saw the door open and a huge bouncer exit to take up a position in front of it. There was a cacophony of techno house music until the door swung closed.

“Good eye,” I told Brenda as I parallel parked in the next available spot. Coming around to the passenger side, I ushered my wife out and made sure to lock up the car.

We picked our way over the broken glass on the sidewalk and over to the green painted door. Brenda was being her usual pokey self, trailing along behind me. I had to grip her hand tightly because it was slick with sweat. There was no way I was going to let her back out now.

When we reached the bar, I gave the bouncer one of my winning smiles. This was the smile I closed deals with and I could usually count on it opening all doors.

Not this one, though.

The woman standing before the unmarked, metal door stared back at me. Crossing her tattooed arms across her well-endowed chest, she finally growled, “What the hell do you want?”

Sighing, I pulled my petite wife around in front of me. The resulting look of hunger on the bouncer’s face made me step up and embrace Brenda from behind.// OK don't overplay this let the reader decide. He would think he was 'protecting his wife' not being possessive so from his point of view the hungry bouncer was scaring for his wife and he pulled her close (from behind) just to comfort and reassure her. Try to paint the same picture along with his reasoning and then when the bouncer says the " sure you don't need to pee on her" it will have a little more sting

The woman snorted. “Why don’t you just pee on her?” she asked.

I felt my face heat up as she held out her hand. “Twenty buck cover for you. I’m gonna let that gorgeous babe// maybe just "gorgeous", or "gorgeous here" if you're throwing in meaningful eye contact in for free.”

She leered at my wife and I was hard pressed not to roll my eyes at the pathetic attempt to be suave. Not in this lifetime, I thought to myself. Peeling off two twenty’s from the large roll I kept in my front pants pocket, I told her to keep the change.

The bouncer put her hand over the money and my fingers. She squeezed and not too gently, either. “Listen,” she hissed. “I know your type. If you cause trouble in here, we won’t call the cops. We’ll pound you ourselves.”

“We’re not looking for trouble, just a good time,” I declared.

Letting go of my hand, she opened the door and stepped aside. I waited until the door closed behind me before shaking out my throbbing fingers.

Pausing, I looked around and tried not to sneer. So this is what a lesbian bar looks like. It was small, dark and noisy. There were a few women dancing together on the postage stamp size space in front of the DJ and a few more playing pool against the back wall. There were about fifteen small tables scattered around the room and I directed Brenda toward an empty one, as far from the crowded bar as we could get.

“See anything you like?” I whispered after we sat down.

Brenda shook her head, her eyes on the stained tabletop. I wasn’t sure if she’d even managed to look around while we walked across the floor.

Sighing, I looked around for a server. Maybe a few drinks would loosen her up.

“Slumming?”

I looked over my shoulder at a young woman wearing a leather vest and mini-skirt. She was holding a tray, so I assumed she was the waitress. “Two draft beers,” I ordered.

To my surprise, the waitress squatted down beside my wife. “You don’t look like you want a beer, honey. Spike makes a delicious Cosmo. How about I bring you one of those?”

For the first time that evening, my wife smiled. Brenda nodded and murmured, “Thank you.”

In no time at all, the waitress was back with the drinks. My beer was perfect. It was icy cold with just the right amount of foam. “It shouldn’t surprise me that the bleached blonde dyke behind the bar could give good head,”// from this males perspective head means fellatio and yeah he would be surprised if a dike could do it so keep the joke but change it I said with a laugh.

Brenda shook her head and glared at me.

“It’s just a joke, baby,” I told her. “Lighten up.”

At this time, // drop that it's not needed I noticed a lanky, older woman wearing jeans and an honest-to-god plaid flannel shirt approaching our table. I mentally wondered where all the lipstick lesbians like on that Showtime program were hiding.

Without a word, the woman pivoted an empty chair and sat down on it backwards and crossed her arms over the backrest. Moving the toothpick in her mouth to the other side, she stared at us for a long couple of minutes.

“Hello?” I asked. “Was there something we could do for you?” I ignored Brenda’s frown at my sarcastic // maybe more brusque than sarcastic tone.

Taking out the toothpick, the woman asked, “What are you looking for?”

“Pardon me?”

“This isn’t the first time that a couple desperate to rekindle the spark in their marriage has come in here hoping to find a woman willing to join them for some fun and games.”

“We’re not desperate,” I told her, quite forcibly. “Our marriage is fine.”

“Right,” she answered with a roll of her eyes. “Tell me that you’re not here looking to find someone to take home?”

I shrugged. “What’s it to you if we are?”

“I’ve been deputized to see where your tastes run.”

“Why?”

“We want you breeders out of our bar as soon as possible. We figure you’ll leave once you’ve found what you’re looking for.”

I nodded at the reasoning. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

“Well, let’s get this over with.” The woman stood up and held out her hand. “Come on over to the bar and I’ll let you meet everyone.”

When I started to stand, she shook her head.might want to push him back into his seat, just a thought (now you've got me going over the top) “No, dude. You stay here.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s her choice, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” I stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words. My wife was staring at me, so I plastered a grin onto my face. “Of course,” I hurried to assure her. “Whatever you decide, dear, is fine with me.”

“Good. Don’t worry, she’ll be safe with me.”

I didn’t trust the woman as far as I could throw her skinny ass but I figured that they were only going to be across the room. I just hoped that Brenda didn’t get scared without me near her.

Alone at the table, I felt incredibly conspicuous. Looking around, I could see that I was the only man in the place. Dropping my hands into my lap, I adjusted myself and felt a surge of satisfaction. When it came right down to it, mine was the only real one in the place.

I drained my beer and drummed my fingers on the tiny table. Watching the women on the dance floor, I shifted in my seat and had to adjust myself again. As those nubile bodies writhed together to the pounding bass beat, it was getting difficult to find a comfortable position in my jeans for my hardening dick.

Almost magically, another glass of liquid gold appeared over my shoulder.

“Ready for another?” the waitress asked, as she waggled the frosted glass invitingly.

“Sure.” I sipped on the beer and cracked my knuckles. What was taking Brenda so long?

Squinting at the bar, I saw my wife sitting on a tall stool surrounded by potential suitors. There were fat ones and thin ones, tall ones and short ones, old ones and young ones. Man, I didn’t know lesbians came in so many different shapes.

My wife was the center of attention and obviously loved every second of it. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her so animated. She threw back her head as she laughed out loud. She glanced at me and then blushed at what the women were saying to her. She shook her head and I could hear exclamations of “Damn” over the blaring music.

She then reached out and felt the biceps of two of the preening peacocks. I cupped my balls and thought that they could compare their muscles all night long but they still wouldn’t be able to match me. I knew that Brenda needed a man between her legs

Finally, Brenda returned to the table, followed by a woman in a black leather jacket. The woman was about Brenda’s height with a boyish build. I glanced at her chest and tried not to grimace. Those things were hardly bee stings!

I forced a smile to my face. She certainly wasn’t my idea of a playmate but, if the night was a success, maybe I could pick the next time.

“Honey, this is Rain.”

The woman held out the chair for Brenda before she dropped into the empty seat beside her. Leaning aggressively on the table, Rain said, “Look, like I told the pretty lady, I don’t do men.”

“That lady is my wife,” I said, meeting her halfway across the table. I put my hand possessively over Brenda’s. There was no way I was going to let some little butch get away with any dominant posturing.

Brenda pulled her hand free and glared at me. “I’m more than just some trophy,” she exclaimed.

“Of course, dear,” I quickly agreed. Wishing I could wipe the smug look off Rain’s face, I protested, “That wasn’t the deal.”

Raising her hands, Rain said, “Whatever you thought the deal was, it’s changed.”

“Changed? By who?” I laughed. “You?”

“By this wonderful creature. Have you forgotten? I’m the one she chose.” Rain gave me a look.

I knew, then, that she knew what I had been planning. She was just daring me to keep arguing with her so she could blow my chance. Swallowing my snarl, I managed to ask, “What are your terms?”

“If we do this thing, you can watch but you can’t touch.” Her eyes burned into mine.

“Fine. If I can’t touch you, you can’t fuck her.” I smirked when she frowned. Did she really think that I didn’t see that unnatural bulge in her jeans?

Slowly, the scowl on her face changed into a shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’m going to make sweet, sweet love to this beautiful woman.” Rain lifted my wife’s hand to her lips and placed kisses along Brenda’s knuckles before turning it over and kissing and sucking on her palm.

Clenching my fists, I watched my wife melt at the touch of a tongue on her lifeline. That was my move, I thought angrily. It was one of the big guns I pulled out when Brenda was pretending not to be interested in sex. How dare she use it right off the bat!

Rain looked up at me, while keeping her mouth busy sucking on my wife's fingers. She eventually lifted her head and beamed. “I’ve always been a fan of the Star Trek philosophy of lesbianism.”

“Oh?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“It's my mission to explore strange, new bodies. To seek out new pleasure and new experiences. To boldly go where no woman has gone before.”

She and Brenda shared a laugh. I noticed that they were still holding hands.

As//drop it no need I felt acid churn in my stomach, I suddenly had the realization that Brenda was not the one getting fucked tonight.

Like I said the ending is worth it. Still maybe a little more subtlety in the beginning. Let the reader pick up on what kind of guy we are dealing with, no need to beat them over the head. If they feel a sense of discovery regarding his nature they'll find him more believable.
good job ready for another?

[Euryleia]

good job ready for another?

Sure. You want me to post an edited version first?

[Mad Lews]

Sure do a quick edit, post it on the other side if you wish.
The next part would be telling the story from a feminine POV . You have a number of options as to narrator. The wife or any of the bar patrons. I suspect the wife would have the more interesting view of the story, but hey I'm a guy, what do I know
Knock that one off and I'll see if we can come up with something interesting.

Mad

[Euryleia]

Thanks so much for the edits, Dean, nikita, and Mad Lews. I really appreciate the critical eyes and suggestions. Here is a cleaned up version:

Peering through the windshield into the gloom, I searched for a number on any of the darkened buildings bordering the narrow street. There was plenty of graffiti visible in the low light but nothing else to tell me if we were getting close.

The sound of crashing metal and breaking glass made me gun the engine for an instant. I laughed a little as I slowed the car back to a crawl. God only knows what my wife was thinking about this neighborhood. It was the thought of leaving my car that worried me. As much as I hated to drive my wife’s mini-van, I think I should have left my 2006 Pontiac G6 GTP convertible at home in the garage.

“Can you see anything?” I asked, glancing over to my right. I had to smile at the sight.

My wife, Brenda, was a very beautiful woman, with shoulder length blonde hair and a perfect complexion. The sheer blouse she was wearing did nothing to hide her large tits. I didn’t hear an answer, so I lifted my eyes to meet hers and saw that she was frowning at me. “What?”

“You always talk to my boobs.”

“Not always,” I said with a half grin that she thinks is charming. “Only when you’re looking as fine as you do right now.”

Predictably, she blushed.

I marveled at how far I had managed to bring her. When I married her, fresh out of college, my wife was strictly missionary. It had taken years to get her willing to do wild and crazy things like having sex with the lights on or while the kids were still awake. The effort wasn’t all bad but I had spent many an hour between her legs with a mouthful of hair making sure that she climaxed hard and often. All that lapping would be worthwhile, though, if my plans tonight worked out.

I’ve always been turned on by those photo spreads in the adult magazines with two beauties going hot and heavy with each other. It was my dream to see my wife get physical with another woman and I would then do them both. Of course, I left the second part out when I talked to her into it.

Over the past year, I had managed, through compliments, dirty talk and sexual teasing, to get her to do more than just think about the idea of some girl on girl action. That was why we were in one of the worst sections of town, searching for a bar I found mentioned in the women seeking women section of craigslist.

I could tell that she was feeling a little anxious. Brenda’s hands were twisting the hem of her mini-skirt, teasing me with little flashes of her upper thighs. Man, I was going to get lucky tonight. I could just feel it.

“There!”

I looked where her finger was pointing and could see a flickering neon Bud Light sign beside a nondescript door. Shaking my head, I was about to disagree when I saw the door open and a huge bouncer exit to take up a position in front of it. There was a cacophony of techno house music until the door swung closed.

“Good eye,” I told Brenda as I parallel parked in the next available spot. Coming around to the passenger side, I ushered my wife out and made sure to lock up the car.

We picked our way over the broken glass on the sidewalk and over to the green painted door. Brenda was being her usual pokey self, trailing along behind me. I had to grip her hand tightly because it was slick with sweat. There was no way I was going to let her back out now.

When we reached the bar, I gave the bouncer one of my winning smiles. This was the smile I closed deals with and I could usually count on it opening all doors.

Not this one, though.

The woman standing before the unmarked, metal door stared back at me. Crossing her tattooed arms across her well-endowed chest, she finally growled, “What the hell do you want?”

Sighing, I pulled my petite wife around in front of me. The resulting look of hunger on the bouncer’s face made me step up and embrace Brenda from behind. I didn’t want Brenda to think she was going to get thrown to the wolves.

The woman snorted. “Why don’t you just pee on her?” she asked.

I felt my face heat up as she held out her hand. “Twenty buck cover for you. I’m gonna let gorgeous in for free.”

She leered at my wife and I was hard pressed not to roll my eyes at the pathetic attempt to be suave. Not in this lifetime, I thought to myself. Peeling off two twenty’s from the large roll I kept in my front pants pocket, I told her to keep the change.

The bouncer put her hand over the money and my fingers. She squeezed and not too gently, either. “Listen,” she hissed. “I know your type. If you cause trouble in here, we won’t call the cops. We’ll pound you ourselves.”

“We’re not looking for trouble, just a good time,” I declared.

Letting go of my hand, she opened the door and stepped aside. I waited until the door closed behind me before shaking out my throbbing fingers.

Pausing, I looked around and tried not to sneer. So this is what a lesbian bar looks like. It was small, dark and noisy. There were a few women dancing together on the postage stamp size space in front of the DJ and a few more playing pool against the back wall. There were about fifteen small tables scattered around the room and I directed Brenda toward an empty one, as far from the crowded bar as we could get.

“See anything you like?” I whispered after we sat down.

Brenda shook her head, her eyes on the stained tabletop. I wasn’t sure if she’d even managed to look around while we walked across the floor.

Sighing, I looked around for a server. Maybe a few drinks would loosen her up.

“Slumming?”

I looked over my shoulder at a young woman wearing a leather vest and mini-skirt. She was holding a tray, so I assumed she was the waitress. “Two draft beers,” I ordered.

To my surprise, the waitress squatted down beside my wife. “You don’t look like you want a beer, honey. Spike makes a delicious Cosmo. How about I bring you one of those?”

For the first time that evening, my wife smiled. Brenda nodded and murmured, “Thank you.”

In no time at all, the waitress was back with the drinks. My beer was perfect. It was icy cold with just the right amount of foam. “I’m surprised that a dyke can give such good head,” I said with a laugh.

Brenda shook her head and glared at me.

“It’s just a joke, baby,” I told her. “Lighten up.”

I noticed a lanky, older woman wearing jeans and an honest-to-god plaid flannel shirt approaching our table. I mentally wondered where all the lipstick lesbians like on that Showtime program were hiding.

Without a word, the woman pivoted an empty chair and sat down on it backwards and crossed her arms over the backrest. Moving the toothpick in her mouth to the other side, she stared at us for a long couple of minutes.

“Hello?” I asked. “Was there something we could do for you?” I ignored Brenda’s frown at my tone.

Taking out the toothpick, the woman asked, “What are you looking for?”

“Pardon me?”

“This isn’t the first time that a couple desperate to rekindle the spark in their marriage has come in here hoping to find a woman willing to join them for some fun and games.”

“We’re not desperate,” I told her, quite forcibly. “Our marriage is fine.”

“Right,” she answered with a roll of her eyes. “Tell me that you’re not here looking to find someone to take home?”

I shrugged. “What’s it to you if we are?”

“I’ve been deputized to see where your tastes run.”

“Why?”

“We want you breeders out of our bar as soon as possible. We figure you’ll leave once you’ve found what you’re looking for.”

I nodded at the reasoning. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

“Well, let’s get this over with.” The woman stood up and held out her hand. “Come on over to the bar and I’ll let you meet everyone.”

When I started to stand, she shook her head. “No, dude. You stay here.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s her choice, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” I stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words. My wife was staring at me, so I plastered a grin onto my face. “Of course,” I hurried to assure her. “Whatever you decide, dear, is fine with me.”

“Good. Don’t worry, she’ll be safe with me.”

I didn’t trust the woman as far as I could throw her skinny ass but I figured that they were only going to be across the room. I just hoped that Brenda didn’t get scared without me near her.

Alone at the table, I felt incredibly conspicuous. Looking around, I could see that I was the only man in the place. Dropping my hands into my lap, I adjusted myself and felt a surge of satisfaction. When it came right down to it, mine was the only real one in the place.

I drained my beer and drummed my fingers on the tiny table. Watching the women on the dance floor, I shifted in my seat and had to adjust myself again. As those nubile bodies writhed together to the pounding bass beat, it was getting difficult to find a comfortable position in my jeans for my hardening dick.

Almost magically, another glass of liquid gold appeared over my shoulder.

“Ready for another?” the waitress asked, as she waggled the frosted glass invitingly.

“Sure.” I sipped on the beer and cracked my knuckles. What was taking Brenda so long?

Squinting at the bar, I saw my wife sitting on a tall stool surrounded by potential suitors. There were fat ones and thin ones, tall ones and short ones, old ones and young ones. Man, I didn’t know lesbians came in so many different shapes.

My wife was the center of attention and obviously loved every second of it. I couldn’t recall ever seeing her so animated. She threw back her head as she laughed out loud. She glanced at me and then blushed at what the women were saying to her. She shook her head and I could hear exclamations of “Damn” over the blaring music.

She then reached out and felt the biceps of two of the preening peacocks. I cupped my balls and thought that they could compare their muscles all night long but they still wouldn’t be able to match me. I knew that Brenda needed a man between her legs

Finally, Brenda returned to the table, followed by a woman in a black leather jacket. The woman was about Brenda’s height with a boyish build. I glanced at her chest and tried not to grimace. Those things were hardly bee stings!

I forced a smile to my face. She certainly wasn’t my idea of a playmate but, if the night was a success, maybe I could pick the next time.

“Honey, this is Rain.”

The woman held out the chair for Brenda before she dropped into the empty seat beside her. Leaning aggressively on the table, Rain said, “Look, like I told the pretty lady, I don’t do men.”

“That lady is my wife,” I said, meeting her halfway across the table. I put my hand possessively over Brenda’s. There was no way I was going to let some little butch get away with any dominant posturing.

Brenda pulled her hand free and glared at me. “I’m more than just some trophy,” she exclaimed.

“Of course, dear,” I quickly agreed. Wishing I could wipe the smug look off Rain’s face, I protested, “That wasn’t the deal.”

Raising her hands, Rain said, “Whatever you thought the deal was, it’s changed.”

“Changed? By who?” I laughed. “You?”

“By this wonderful creature. Have you forgotten? I’m the one she chose.” Rain gave me a look.

I knew, then, that she knew what I had been planning. She was just daring me to keep arguing with her so she could blow my chance. Swallowing my snarl, I managed to ask, “What are your terms?”

“If we do this thing, you can watch but you can’t touch.” Her eyes burned into mine.

“Fine. If I can’t touch you, you can’t fuck her.” I smirked when she frowned. Did she really think that I didn’t see that unnatural bulge in her jeans?

Slowly, the scowl on her face changed into a shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’m going to make sweet, sweet love to this beautiful woman.” Rain lifted my wife’s hand to her lips and placed kisses along Brenda’s knuckles before turning it over and kissing and sucking on her palm.

Clenching my fists, I watched my wife melt at the touch of a tongue on her lifeline. That was my move, I thought angrily. It was one of the big guns I pulled out when Brenda was pretending not to be interested in sex. How dare she use it right off the bat!

Rain looked up at me, while keeping her mouth busy on my wife’s palm. She eventually lifted her head and beamed. “I’ve always been a fan of the Star Trek philosophy of lesbianism.”

“Oh?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s my mission to explore strange, new bodies. To seek out new pleasure and new experiences. To boldly go where no woman has gone before.”

She and Brenda shared a laugh. I noticed that they were still holding hands.

I felt acid churn in my stomach and I suddenly had the realization that Brenda was not the one getting fucked tonight.

[H Dean]

Well, it's been a tough day - long hours and little money to show. At least it was tax free. Anyhow, I finally got the chance to get over here and had a look at the thread. Most of my gripes were pretty much in keeping with what Mad offered. So, rather than be redundant or repeat what has been said or echo his sentiments, I will say "ditto".

I still kill me.