Sluggers Chicago 02

Wrigleyville was crowded for a non-game night. The sidewalks were packed as Molly and I approached Sluggers, just south of Wrigley Field on Clark Street. We loved coming to this bar on Saturday nights for $1 Jell-O shots and the dueling pianos show, followed by dancing in the downstairs bar area, or hanging around at the batting cages.

Somehow, we'd arrived early for once, so we got some drinks downstairs while we waited for the show to start and for the rest of our friends to arrive. We made our way to the bar through the already fairly dense crowd, and Molly offered to get our first round of drinks. When the bartender got to us, I heard Molly yell in our go-to orders: Corona and lime for her, and a screwdriver for me. Then she was adding on two double tequila shots before I could object, not that I would have bothered, anyway. I just laughed as the bartender whipped up our drinks.

When the shots were poured, we got set up by each licking a spot on our hands, and then sprinkling on some salt from the small dish the bartender slid over to us. Molly picked up both shots from the bar and turned to hand me one. "To big ships and small ships..." she started, cueing me with our usual toast.

"But the best ships are friendships," I finished cheerily.

We clinked our shot glasses together gently, licked the salt from our hands in unison, and then threw back the shots, following immediately with lime wedges that the bartender had laid out on a napkin. I scrunched up my face and shivered as the familiar tingle rushed through me.

As we hung out near the bar, drinking and joking around, we both noticed a group of three guys around our age standing nearby.

"The one with the Cubs hat is really cute," Molly gushed.

I waited a beat before glancing over as casually as I could, smiling to myself when I saw the guy she was referring to. He was tall with shaggy hair partly covered by the cap and a full beard. Molly definitely had a type. But she was right - he was cute.

I was about to tell her so, and encourage her to go up and talk to him when she said, "Hang on, isn't that your sexy runner friend from the Shamrock Shuffle?"

The question threw me off. First of all, because I'd been thinking about you so much lately that it felt strange to hear Molly bringing you up. But also because I was still focused on the group of guys near the bar and didn't know where she would have spotted you.

"What? Where?" I asked, hoping I sounded more casual than I felt.

"Yeah, that's definitely him. He's staring!" Molly confirmed to herself without responding.

I traced her line of sight, and then our eyes met. You were sitting at a table near the open windows at the front of the bar, looking right back at me. I felt a sudden tingle rolling down my spine and between my legs. My face flushed as my mind flashed back to all the times I'd touched myself and made myself cum over the past couple weeks since the race, imagining so many scenarios that could've been if we hadn't let each other leave without exchanging numbers or making plans to meet up.

Molly noticed me staring back at you and waved a hand in my face to get my attention back. "Earth to Sam!" she smirked. "Are you gonna go say hi?"

I looked at her, unsure what to say, what to do. Then, I glanced back over at you again, this time noticing the others at your table. You sat next to a blonde woman, and there was another couple sitting across from you. A double date?

"It looks like he's with someone," I pointed out, wanting to hear what Molly thought.

"True," she agreed, building my disappointment. "Might be awkward if you went over there."

I tried brushing it off, not wanting to let on how curious I still was about you and your date. "Oh well," I said, as breezily as I could manage. "Let's go talk to your mountain man instead."

Molly laughed and agreed easily.

So, we made our way over to the group of guys at the other end of the bar, quickly brainstorming a clever way of invading their conversation.

I did my best to be a good wingman for Molly, talking and casually flirting with the mountain man's friends as the guys bought us each another drink. But my attention kept drifting back to you, against my will. I tried to force myself to stop looking over at your table. When that didn't work, I made myself at least wait a few minutes between glances, timing it with each new song that came on.

Then, on the fourth or fifth song change, I looked over and saw that your seat was empty. I felt a tightening in my chest as my eyes scanned the bar for you. I didn't find you within the first few seconds, and didn't want to let on how preoccupied I was, so I forced myself once again to let it go, telling myself you must've just gone to the bathroom or something.

A couple minutes later, I heard your voice coming from right behind me.

"Can I get a gin and tonic with Bombay Sapphire, and a Bud Light?" you ordered, calling to the bartender.

I turned around as soon as I heard you, and our eyes met again. The tingle I felt was much more intense this time, as you stood right in front of me. You smiled, and I felt exposed, like you could see all the dirty thoughts running through my mind, as if my eyes were displaying them like a projector.

"Can I also get another of what she's having?" you asked the bartender as he slid the two drinks from your original order across the bar.

He looked over at my glass and then gave me a slight nod to ask what my drink was.

"Screwdriver," I told him.

"Glad I'm getting a chance to buy you a proper drink. It didn't feel right to end things with that water at the race."

I felt the blush creeping back up into my cheeks as I smiled back at you. "No, it didn't," I agreed.

"Am I interrupting?" you asked, indicating the group of guys behind me.

I didn't bother looking back at them before shaking my head. "Molly likes the guy with the beard. I'm just the wingman."

You smirked. "Not sure the other guys see it that way."

I glanced back to see one guy I'd been talking to watching us. Molly was giving me a concerned look as well. I ignored them both and turned back to you, shrugging slightly.

Your smirk caused another, stronger tingle. I squeezed my thighs together in response.

"I'm really glad we ran into each other," you said, looking at me intensely. "I was worried I wouldn't see you again."

My mind flashed back to Grant Park, after the race that day, meeting your eyes as my friends headed out, trying to talk myself into going up to you to get your number, but also hoping you'd be the one to make the move instead.

Before I could ask you more about what happened that day, Molly interrupted.

"Well, if it isn't the water boy!" she joked. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Yeah, small world," you said, smiling back at Molly. "We live right down the street."

"We, meaning you and your wife?" Molly asked, pointedly.

I looked back at her, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. I was slow to put it all together, but finally understood when she gave me an intent look and gestured with her eyes towards your left hand. Or rather, the ring on your finger.

You watched me notice the ring and seemed to take stock of my reaction. "Yeah," you admitted, hesitantly.

I wasn't sure what to think. For a moment, I told myself this all must be nothing. Maybe I was right before, and it's all just been in my head. You must not actually have been flirting with me if you were married. But I already knew that wasn't the truth.

Once again, as if reading my mind, you winked at me, a slight smirk playing at the corner of your mouth.

Just then, the rest of our friends arrived. Molly and I got distracted away, greeting them excitedly and hugging in turns. It was just about 9:00 by then, so we started heading upstairs. I hung back for a moment, noticing that you were still lingering by the bar.

"We're going up to dueling pianos," I told you.

"I might have to check that out later. After all, you owe me a couple of drinks now," you said with another wink.

I couldn't help laughing. "Is that so?"

You nodded. "If my math is correct."

As you answered, I felt your eyes sliding down from mine slowly, landing on my cleavage and resting there. I felt my nipples hardening under your stare and wondered if you'd notice.

Before I had a chance to find out, Molly came back for me, grabbing me by the arm. "Let's go, Sam. The show's starting and we need to get seats."

"Okay," I agreed, finally pulling my eyes away from you as she started leading me towards the stairs.

I glanced back one last time as we left the bar area. You were smirking and watching us leave before finally making your way back to your table.

***

"Sorry Shamrock Shuffle guy ended up being a creep," Molly said consolingly as we made our way up the stairs, waiting in line to pay the cover fee for the dueling pianos show. "But I think Andy likes you! He's cute, right?"

The mountain man and his friends had followed us upstairs, and I could tell Molly was already scheming to push me towards hooking up with one of them, having written you off as soon as she saw your wedding band. That just made me feel self-conscious that I hadn't; if I was honest with myself, your ring wasn't enough to make me stop wanting you.

It was rather shocking, though, finding out that you had a wife. It made me want to know more: How old were you? How long had you been married? What was going on in your marriage that was making you want to flirt with other people? Did you have an open relationship or something? What did you want from me? I felt like I already knew the answer to that one, though.

I was feeling distracted during the dueling pianos show. My friends ordered round after round of Jell-O shots. Andy, or whatever his name was, was sitting next to me and still trying to talk to me for a while. But when he noticed how preoccupied I was, glancing over to the doorway to see if you'd come up, he moved on to flirt with my friend Carly instead. I was relieved, but I noticed Molly's uneasy look, as she must've known what I was thinking. So, I tried to refocus on my friends and the show, not wanting to stress her out or keep her from having fun with the guy she liked.

A few songs later, I saw you come up the stairs. You were looking around. Looking for me, I thought. I watched you and waited until our eyes met again. When you finally found me, you smiled, and then gestured with a slight jerk of your head for me to come talk to you. Without a second thought, I excused myself, telling my friends I was going to the bathroom. I started heading towards the bar, figuring you'd want to take me up on the drink I owed you, but you stepped back out into the hall to wait for me instead.

I found you out there, both of us smiling again as I approached. It felt involuntary. My body just reacted to you and the way you were looking at me, like you wanted to devour me.

"Is your group coming up for the show?" I asked.

"No, I just told them I was going to check out the batting cages," you admitted, moving another half step closer to me and bringing your finger to your lips in a shushing gesture.

I just smiled back a little, still feeling unsure.

"So, is Sam short for Samantha?" you asked then, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Yes. My friends call me Sam."

You smiled and answered, "Nice to meet you, Sam. I'm Mark."

I couldn't help smiling too, and blushing, thinking about how far we'd gotten without even exchanging names. "Do you want that drink, Mark?"

You shrugged. "I have a full one downstairs."

I scoffed and laughed a bit. "How can I repay you, then?"

I didn't realize how flirty that might sound until the words were already out.

But apparently it was the response you'd been looking for. You smiled and leaned in even closer until you were whispering in my ear. "I'm sure we can come up with something."

A shiver coursed through me as I felt your warm breath on the side of my neck and reacted to your proximity.

You didn't pull back very far, watching me closely, glancing between my chest and my parted lips, noting my reactions. Then you brought one hand up, brushing the backs of your fingers over my hard nipples, which were clearly poking through my bra and shirt at that point.

I sighed when I felt your light touch. My heart started beating faster, my chest heaving slightly, causing my cleavage to swell above my low-cut top.

"Fuck!" you cursed, suddenly grabbing me by the waist and pulling me against you right there in the crowded hall. I felt your hard cock pressing into me through our clothes. Your lips hovered over mine and I couldn't remember ever wanting anything as much as I wanted you to kiss me in that moment.

"My wife is right downstairs," you breathed against my lips.

I was surprised to find that that just seemed to turn me even more, my pussy clenching and throbbing, eyebrows furrowing as the heat rose in my cheeks. "I don't care," I finally admitted, shaking my head slightly, my arousal pushing me beyond caring about the implications of what I was saying.

That's all it took.

"Fuck, c'mon," you said, suddenly grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hall, through the batting cages area, and down another hall towards the restrooms. Just as I started to wonder which restroom you were planning on invading, you stopped short and tried the handle of another unmarked door. It was unlocked and appeared to be a storage room for equipment to the batting cages and fixing the arcade games. You pulled me inside quickly and closed the door behind us.

Then you just looked at me again, and I felt the same tension from the race day, times a thousand. My pussy throbbed, remembering how I'd touched myself, thinking about more with you after that day. Assuming I'd never see you again. I couldn't believe it was happening. There was still the thought that I shouldn't let it happen, but I felt powerless to stop it.

Before my racing thoughts could go any further, you were pulling me in and kissing me, at last. I felt your tongue playing with mine as my hands came to your chest, gripping two handfuls of your shirt. Your hands were everywhere, groping wherever you could, squeezing my ass, tugging me closer until I was pressed against you. My hands slid up to comb into your hair, tugging your head to the side to deepen the kiss. You growled into my mouth and pinned me back against the door, pressing yourself into me again as you sucked and nibbled on my bottom lip. I moaned into the kiss as your hands slid up under my shirt, cupping my breasts and squeezing hard through my bra. Then you started kissing down my neck as one hand slid down to rub me through my jeans.

My gasp turned into a low moan as I felt your touch there.

You pulled back, your eyes scanning my face, which was fully furrowed in pleasure. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since the race."

I whimpered, bracing myself by gripping your arms tightly, my nails digging into your skin. I wanted to respond, to tell you how much I'd been thinking about you too, but I wasn't able to form the words, already so close to coming undone as my hips started grinding on your hand.

I loved the sound of your groan when you felt me wanting you like that.

"I wanted to come back up and talk to you after the race, but my wife was at the finish area," you explained.

I struggled to catch my breath and respond, still writhing in your arms. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I didn't listen to Molly and go up to give you my number, then."

You chuckled a little, not letting up with the rubbing. Then, "No excuses tonight, though."

I smiled back. "No..."

Then you started opening my jeans.

I felt an instant throb and clenched my pussy again when your hand started tugging at the button and zipper of my jeans. As you got them open, I looked down to watch your hand sliding inside right away. I gasped and cursed as your fingers slid under the waistband of my panties, too.

You kissed me again immediately deeply as you started rubbing me, your fingers sliding along my slit. Both of us moaned into the kiss as your fingertips dipped in between my lips.

"Fuck, you're so wet," you muttered into my mouth.

My whole body was writhing between you and the storage closet door at that point. "So good..." I muttered, feeling even more turned on to hear you say that, unable to form words for a coherent response at that point.

"What are you thinking?" you asked then, your lips brushing over my neck and nibbling on my earlobe as you breathed the words into my ear. "What has you this turned on? What do you want?"

"Oh fuck," I whimpered, reacting to your voice. I felt so close already. I didn't think I'd get the words out before rolling over the edge. "I'm gonna cum," I breathed.

"Fuck!" you cursed, your fingers picking up the pace, rubbing over my clit. "Yes! Cum for me, Sam! Cum on my fingers."

My hands slid up the back of your shirt, feeling the bare skin of your back as my nails dug in, my hips grinding against you. Then I felt you sucking on and biting my neck and that was it.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" I managed to say before the unstifled moans and strings of curses overtook me. I brought one hand around to press yours onto me harder as I rode out the orgasm.

You pulled back to watch it on my face, then consumed me in another kiss as I came down, your fingers not letting up with the rubbing. "Tell me," you growled against my lips. "Tell me what you thought about."

"Fuck!" I sighed, pressing against your chest, attempting to pull your arm back.

But you didn't ease up. You smirked at me, then leaned in to kiss and nibble along my jawline, making your way back to my ear and neck.

I stopped resisting and told you everything. All about how I'd touched myself in the shower when I got home on the day of the Shamrock Shuffle, then again on my bed. And so many other times since then.

You growled and started rubbing harder, faster. "That's so hot. You're so sexy and naughty, hooking up with a married guy in a storage closet at a bar like this."

I whimpered, feeling suddenly close to cumming again, surprised by how turned on I was to hear you say that, by what we were doing.

You seemed to notice, pulling back and scanning my face again. "I want you so much. I've thought about so many things I want to do with you. To you. You're such a sexy little college slut, aren't you?"

"Ohhhhh my god!" I yelled out, suddenly cumming again, yelling out and writhing on your hand against the door.

You groaned and kept rubbing as I came down. "Good girl," you smiled, pulling your hand back out of my pants after. "Now I want to feel your mouth on my cock."

"Fuck..." I felt another throb when I heard your words, once again surprised by how much that turned me on, by how much I wanted it, too. Everything with you felt so dirty, but so good. Like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

You gave me a nudge, pushing down on my shoulders.

I sighed and slid down to my knees.

"You want it as much as I do, don't you?" you asked, looking down at me.

I blushed, feeling how easily you seemed to read what I was thinking, and still a bit confused by the thoughts, myself. But I couldn't deny that it was true, so I looked up at you and nodded.

Then you unhooked your belt and pants, quickly pulling your cock out. It practically bounced up in my face, so hard already.

I felt my pussy clench again as I reached out to stroke, then leaning forward and running my tongue over the head of your cock, earning an immediate groan from you. I wrapped my lips around you and started gradually taking you in deeper, my tongue rubbing along the underside of your cock while my lips stroked your shaft. I was encouraged by your moans and labored breathing, not to mention your words: "Your mouth feels so fucking good around my cock, Sam."