Every month, I meet my girlfriends for drinks at the dive bar we used to go to in college.

We dress like we did 20 years ago, in our jeans and concert T — shirts, put on too much makeup, and flirt with the men who offer to buy us drinks — even though we’re all married and have been for years. It’s fun and relaxing and a great way to cut loose. But what the other women don’t know — and what my husband doesn’t know — is that after girls’ night is over, I double back and hook up with the hot young bartender who just “happens” to be working every time we go to the bar.

Eddie is nearly half my age, a sexy 23 — year — old who has tight abs, lots of tattoos, and can last twice as long as my husband in bed. He also loves going down on me, unlike my husband, who has long since lost interest in eating pussy. Eddie gives me exactly what I need, exactly when I need it, and my husband never suspects a thing. All he knows is that I come home from girls’ night happy, and for the next week or two he gets the best sex he could ask for without having to do anything he doesn’t want to do.

Take last month, for example. The ladies were sloshed by midnight, and ready to go home, so we all called for cabs and headed out. But while their cars drove them back to the suburbs where they lived with their husbands, mine drove me around the block and dropped me off right back where I started. The driver was confused, but I tossed him a 20 and he let it drop.

Eddie was still behind the bar when I strolled back in. I took a stool at the end and sipped a cocktail while he finished his shift. I watched young chicks flirt with him, and he ignored every last one of them. All those perky 20 — somethings in low — cut tops and skintight dresses with acres of flesh showing, but he only had eyes for me — a 40 — something in a pair of ripped jeans, a faded T — shirt, and some high heels that were more akin to flats than the skyscrapers the other women had strapped to their feet.

At two o’clock, when Eddie was ready to go home — with me — I watched as the other women at the bar stared after us with jealousy. I was almost tempted to tell them that they’d have their shot with him the following weekend, when I was home being a good wife, but I decided to let them figure that out for themselves. I had better things to do with my night.

Eddie lives on the third floor above the bar, and we were upstairs in his apartment in no time. And a minute after we arrived, Eddie had my pants down around my knees. He pushed me up against the front door, knelt on the floor and went in for the kill.

I know I said Eddie loves to eat pussy, but love isn’t strong enough a word. He practically lives for it. If he could, he’d do nothing but eat pussy 24/7. And he likes to remind me of that fact every single time we’re together.

Positioned as I was, I couldn’t move or squirm the way my body wanted to. All I could do was push my back hard against the door to hold myself steady and dig my fingers into Eddie’s hair to urge him to keep going.

When he’d pulled down my jeans and panties, he’d done so quickly, but he made sure to plant slow, sensual kisses on my stomach and hips and thighs once they were bared to him. Then he moved in for my inner thighs, kissing and licking and suckling on the soft flesh there, turning me on more and more with each passing second.

I could feel that he was going to leave a hickey on my left thigh as he sucked, but I didn’t care. If my husband noticed and asked, I’d say I bumped into a table at the bar. I’d say anything, as long as I didn’t have to stop Eddie from doing those wonderful things with his mouth. He was getting me hot and bothered. My pussy was dripping wet and my clit was throbbing wildly by the time he finally moved his mouth to my sex.

He planted open — mouthed kisses all over my mound and along my slit, letting his tongue flutter out to tickle me every so often. He was driving me crazy, but all I did was wind my fingers tighter into his hair and hold him in place, making sure to keep him right where he was. Not that he had any intention of trying to get away…

My shirt was still on, and Eddie was still fully dressed, but I was already on the verge of my first orgasm of the night — one of many, I was sure.

Eddie didn’t let up for even a second, his lips and tongue moving over my slit and every now and then slipping up to give my clit a tiny bit of attention. I was panting and gasping and had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. I was sure I was pulling too hard on Eddie’s hair, but nothing would slow him down. About a minute after he’d started eating my pussy, I felt my stomach clench and my thighs quiver, and then I felt a flood of warmth down in my core as I came. And still Eddie kept his mouth latched to my pussy, drinking up every drop of juice that rushed out of me.

But that wasn’t the end of it for Eddie. He scooped me up and carried me to his bed, where he finished undressing me before shedding his own jeans and T — shirt. Then, he got right back between my thighs for a second helping of pussy.

On the mattress, I had more ability to move and writhe, and I felt comfortable being loud. In fact, Eddie encouraged it — unlike my husband, who prefers we stay quiet — so I let loose. I rocked my hips up against Eddie’s mouth, forcing his tongue deeper into my slit and grinding his face against my mound. Every time he hit just the right spot, I let out a loud coo of pleasure.

Eddie brought me to not one but two more orgasms before he let me at his cock, and even then, he guided us first into a 69, as he was still unready to pull back from my slick, juicy entrance.

I didn’t care. I happily devoured Eddie’s cock, swallowing him as far as I could and then guiding him in and out of my mouth over and over. His cock tasted salty and was incredibly thick, and I greedily gulped him down as he continued to slurp me up.

I brought Eddie to the verge of exploding before he finally let up on my pussy. He then laid on his back, his hard cock standing up straight from his crotch. I climbed on top of him, guided his dick to my entrance, and then sank down until I had him fully engulfed inside me.

“My clit was throbbing wildly by the time he finally moved his mouth to my sex.”

Eddie reached up and cupped my breasts as I started to ride his shaft, and as I picked up my pace, he began to tweak my nipples in time with my thrusts.

Riding Eddie is as exciting as being eaten by him. Though I’d been sure a few moments earlier that I couldn’t possibly climax one more time, I soon felt myself building up to yet another orgasm as his cock hit all the right places.

When he wanted more of me, he pulled me toward him and guided my breasts to his mouth. He sucked one nipple and then the other. At first, he was gentle with my nipples, tickling them with his tongue and tweaking them lightly with his fingers, but as I grew more and more aroused — and he did, too — he became more aggressive. He started sucking and tweaking my nipples harder, and the added pressure on my sensitive breasts sent me over the edge.

I came one last time, my whole body shaking as I experienced my most intense climax of the evening. But even reaching one last earth — shattering orgasm didn’t stop me from continuing to pleasure Eddie. I kept thrusting and writhing against him until I felt his cock throb inside me. I quickly pulled off of him and rolled onto my back, and he stroked himself to completion, shooting his cream all over my breasts. It was beautiful.

I rubbed his semen into my skin as he watched me, and then licked the remnants from my fingers to get one last taste.

We lay in bed for a while afterward, catching our breath, and then we headed to the shower for a little more fooling around as we washed up.

A few hours after my girlfriends had left the bar, I called a cab to take me home — for real this time.

When I got in, my husband was in bed, but he awoke when I climbed in beside him. “How was girls’ night?” he asked. “Did you have fun?”

“It was the best!” I assured him.

“Good, I’m glad,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek before rolling over again and falling back asleep.

I waited a few minutes to be sure he was snoring, and then reached beneath the covers to rub my clit. Knowing that I’d gotten away with my affair once more was incredibly exciting, and I felt myself getting aroused all over again.

It only took a couple of minutes of masturbation to get off, and as I felt my absolute last climax of the evening rush through me, whole body relaxed and I dozed off, my hand still resting on my warm mound.

The next morning, when my husband woke me up early with his hard — on pressing against my thigh, I didn’t hesitate to pull him on top of me and let him fuck me just the way he likes. Eddie had excited me enough to make even utilitarian sex exciting for me; I knew my husband and I would both be more than content for at least a few weeks. That is until I’m once more in need of Eddie’s magic tongue.

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