As the old saying goes, variety is the spice of life, and I was dying to sample someone new. Maybe that’s why I decided to go to the bar alone after each of my girlfriends texted their regrets about skipping out on our evening plans. My husband wouldn’t expect me home for hours. Why waste an opportunity for a bit of fun?

Standing at the bar, it didn’t take long for me to make a friend. That sketchy watering hole was the kind of club where anything goes and often did. It wasn’t uncommon for people to get it on in full view of other patrons and the amused staff.

It was my kind of place.

My new pal Malcolm was in his mid-20s and was a successful financial advisor — or so he said. To be honest, I didn’t much care about what he did for a living. I was more interested what muscles were hidden beneath his tailored slacks and button-down shirt.

With his sleeves rolled up, I could see the long, clean lines of his toned forearms. I wondered what it would feel like to have those arms wrapped around me, holding my body still while he slammed into me from behind.

A fiery blush scorched the skin spanning from my breasts to my neck, heating me from the inside out. I raked my eyes over Malcolm’s body, hungrily taking in the strapping stranger while I toyed with the ice cubes melting in my drink.

When Malcolm leaned toward me enough to show his increasing interest, I pulled a sliver of ice from my glass and dragged it over my lips. Then when I popped the last of the cube into my mouth, my finger followed and I sucked it.

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed as my cheeks grew hollow. Moving closer, he whispered in my ear. “Are you trying to make me fuck you right here in this bar,” he asked while eyeing me hungrily. “Because if that’s your goal, I’d say you’re damn close to achieving it.”

Stepping closer, Malcolm made sure our thighs were touching before he rocked his hips, pressing his pelvis against mine. The feeling of his hard cock was unmistakable. Despite the layers of fabric between us, I swear I could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

He reached around my back and rested his hands on the empty barstool behind me, caging me in. With a quick hitch of his hips, his erection was nestled against my pussy, hitting my pulsing clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Being pinned that way meant no matter how I moved, Malcolm’s cock rubbed against my crotch. Eager for more, I rocked my hips toward him just a little. I was horny but didn’t want to cause a scene. Well, not yet anyway.

His eyelids fluttered just slightly, and suddenly, I was the one in control. I wrapped my arms around Malcolm’s neck and pulled him closer. My ass bumped against the barstool, which offered me the right amount of leverage to press myself more firmly against his magnificent bulge.

A low rumble emanated from Malcolm’s chest, causing his body to vibrate pleasantly against my breasts. Almost instantly, my nipples hardened into little peaks. I could feel them beading up against the satiny interior of my bra, surging forward as though they could burst through my clothes and into his hands.

That’s when Malcolm’s lips brushed over my ear again. He nipped at my lobe, grazing it with his teeth before soothing it with a kiss.

“You’re playing with fire, and I’m done messing around. I’m dipping my dick in you right fucking now.”

At first, my brain didn’t quite connect the dots. I nodded and made a move to break away and lead us to the bar’s bathroom, but Malcolm pulled me back. “I said now.”

A mischievous twinkle lit his inky-blue eyes — my only hint at what would happen next. Before I knew it, I was bent over the barstool with my ass in the air. The place had nearly cleared out while Malcolm and I were busy pawing at one another. The few people remaining either ignored us completely or seemed happy enough to watch, and that was fine by me.

Malcolm planted one meaty hand on the small of my back to hold me in place. With his free hand, he fisted the hem of my skirt and whipped it up over my hips.

Next, he made quick work of my thong by yanking it to the side. He traced two fingers over my folds, slowly sliding them up and down. Somehow, his featherlight touch seemed to amplify my body’s reactions. A pleasant tingle spread from my sex to my thighs, making them quake.

Growing impatient, I thrust my ass back, aiming to entice Malcolm to fuck me already.

“Get it, girl,” someone called out.

Goddammit, yes I would. And when I got home, I would get it from my husband, too.

Malcolm didn’t give me his dick right away. Instead he jammed a couple of fingers into my cunt. Little twinges of pleasure made my pussy pulse around his digits, and the tighter my passage became, the better getting finger-fucked felt. In the position that I was, bent over the stool, Malcolm was able apply pressure to my G-spot with each inward jab. His thick digits filled me up right, working every inch of my clutching cunt.

As if that weren’t enough, the angle of my hips meant my clit rubbed against the leather barstool relentlessly. Every time I moved, the furniture massaged me, and I was rapidly being pushed to the brink.

Seconds away from detonating, my pussy contracted sharply around Malcolm’s fingers. I was so goddamn close. Just a few more thrusts, and I would be screaming in ecstasy.

Then Malcolm went and switched everything up, leaving me empty and wanting right at the moment I was meant to be reveling in pleasure.

Before I could protest, Malcolm flipped me over and placed me on the stool. When he stepped between my open legs, I was delighted to see he’d already opened his pants. His condom-clad dick bounced enticingly before me, pointing right at my snatch.

By that point, I was more than ready to feel Malcom’s erection buried inside me. Every second he made me wait for penetration was torture. My pussy still pulsed from the feel of his fingers. I wanted, no, needed his dick.

I took matters into my own hands. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him close.

Malcom’s dick lined up perfectly with my pussy. I aimed the tip right where I wanted him, then I used the strength of my legs to push his length into me.

Malcom’s thighs knocked into the stool, nearly sending us both toppling backward. If I wasn’t wrapped around his hips like a sexed-up boa constrictor, I might have wound up on the floor. But we were safe.

I loosened my hold on Malcolm enough so he could withdraw his dick about an inch. Then he slammed into me, impaling my pussy with his hard, thick cock.

A moan sounded behind Malcolm, calling my attention to another couple who’d decided to follow our lead and fuck up against the bar. Mesmerized, I locked eyes with the woman, sharing a moment of brazen bliss.

Watching a beautiful stranger reach her own peak sent my libido into overdrive. I dug my fingers into Malcolm’s rock-solid shoulders, then I humped that hottie as hard and fast as my hips would allow.

When the stool threatened to tip back yet again, our bartender stepped in to save the day. She positioned herself behind us and grabbed hold of the seat, keeping it steady while Malcolm plowed me.

Taking full advantage, I leaned back, sandwiching myself between the hard, muscular plane of Malcom’s chest and the soft curves of our busty bartender. Sensing this was my silent invitation to join in the fun, our bartender slid her hands from the back of the stool to the front. She skimmed her palms up and over my thighs, making her way to the juncture where my hips and legs connect. The tips of her fingers teasingly caressed my body.

Malcolm’s groans grew longer and louder, making him sound like a wild animal ready to strike. His strong arms enveloped me, pulling me close.

The bartender’s long, jet-black hair draped over my shoulder. It smelled like lavender, the perfect scent to soothe my nerves while my body raced to the finish.

Being tucked tightly between both partners meant I was completely at their mercy for the rest of the time we fucked. I couldn’t move my hips much on my own. Instead, I had to rely on the two people holding me to maneuver our bodies in a way that would get me off.

Finally, with my encouragement the bartender’s fingers found my clit. The added pressure absolutely drove me wild, pushing me across the line and making me fall to pieces.

While I was busy bucking my hips against the bartender’s hand, Malcolm chased his own release. His feverish pace drew out my own pleasure, making my orgasm one of the longest I’d ever experienced.

After Malcolm and I finally caught our breath, we took a step back and focused on righting our clothes. Then I left the bar without even a backward glance, content to head home to my husband who would fuck me for the rest of the night.