I became a slut by accident. And since I know that turns my husband, John, on more than he'd ever admit, I confessed the following story to him, letting him know some parts are true and others are not. I left it up to John to decide which parts to believe.
We'd had plans to visit my parents in my hometown for the weekend, but at the last minute, John got called into an emergency work session. I was bummed because we had booked a hotel to have our own space and I was hoping to get my brains fucked out. We'd had a lot of fun with my husband's recent adventures in being more versatile, but it had been a while since I just got used like a bottom slut and I was so horny, especially since John's work had kept him so busy lately.
So I still packed a bright colored Nasty Pig jockstrap and my very short gym shorts, telling myself it was to workout in the hotel gym, purposefully ignoring the reality that working out like that in a family-friendly hotel in my hometown was probably not the reason for packing such slutty gear.
The drive there and dinner with my parents was uneventful. My dad fell asleep in his recliner and I took that as my excuse to bow out, saying I was tired and wanted to get back to the hotel for a nice sleep. In reality, I wanted to somehow take care of this horniness that had been building for several weeks. In further reality, I'd probably just end up jerking off to porn.
When I got back to what turned out to be the newest hotel in town, I decided to take advantage of the very nice bathroom and take a shower. Of course, then I started jerking my dick and fingering my hole and getting even hornier.
As I dried off and settled my toiletries in the bathroom, I found the bottle of lube I had packed in anticipation of some fun with John. I decided instead of just jerking in my room, I was going to keep fingering my hole, maybe even get several fingers in. I laid a towel down on the bed and laid back and got to work, jerking my dick while working several lubed fingers into my hole.
I was so horny, and this just wasn't cutting it. I decided I could have some responsible fun. That's what I thought of it as: responsible. I would go to the local adult arcade and just jerk off in a booth. I'd actually taken John there before to try to encourage some exhibition and blow him through one of the gloryholes that had been there since I was in college. But they'd covered them up and we just had fun the two of us. Assuming the gloryholes were still covered up, that would stop me from going too far. So that's why I also decided it was OK to put on that jockstrap and short shorts with a tank top.
I pulled up to the arcade and there were no other cars in the parking lot. Perfect. No way for me to be tempted if I'm the only one there. I tried the door and found it locked. Fuck. They've changed their hours and are already closed for the night. It used to be open 24 hours a day, but now they've significantly trimmed their hours.
Well, now what? I'm in this part of town and hornier than ever. Then I remembered there was an adult cinema nearby. I had been there once in college and never been back because it seemed so sleazy. A straight theater, gay theater, and booths with gloryholes in between the two. The one time I'd been there at 19 I felt ogled like a piece of meat and it had made me uncomfortable.
Now pushing 40 and embracing being a bottom slut, it sounded like just the kind of ego boost I might enjoy. And since it was late on a weeknight, there probably wouldn't be too many people there.
I was being responsible.
There were a few cars parked in the back alley behind the cinema. I entered and it was still as sleazy as I remembered in the main shop. Dirty magazines and videos everywhere. Who even bought these things anymore? The clerk seemed disinterested in my presence, but took the cash required for entrance to the cinema. I don't think he cared to notice the bright blue straps of my jockstrap peeking out the bottom of my short shorts.
As I walked into the first part, the straight theater, I could see a man on a couch in the back corner and no one else. The movie playing was an older movie where a fake looking blond chick was blowing a dick that didn't even look that good. I'm not into straight porn anyway, and this certainly looked boring.
Walking by the row of booths, it didn't look like any of them were occupied, so I continued to the gay "theater", which was really just a few couches and a TV. The gay porn playing was, surprisingly, even more boring that what was playing on the big screen in the straight theater.
Looks like this is kind of a bust.
Wait a minute, I'm here to be responsible and just jerk off.
I headed back to the straight theater and sat far away from the other guy. I'm being responsible. I paid attention to the movie and it honestly wasn't doing much for me, so I took a glance to my right and could tell that the other guy was jerking off, but trying to be subtle about it. He appeared to be about 5-10 years older than me, and looked like one of those dads that thinks sport jerseys are shirts and lets their teenagers try beer. I'm usually more drawn to the clean-cut jock dads. Thinking about dads and their dicks got me going a bit, so I reached up the leg of my shorts and pushed the jock to the side to access my dick.
There's no way Beer Dad didn't notice this, but after a bit he stood up and headed toward the booths. He must want to be alone. Or he wants to get blown through a gloryhole. No, he wants to be alone. And I'll just keep jerking here. That's the responsible thing.
Well, what if he went to the gay theater? Or maybe he left through another door. After all, I'm not really familiar with this place. I'll check out the gay theater again. He's not there. He must have left. I took a seat on one of the couches and just pushed my shorts completely down, thinking about whether there were other sluts who had been fucked back here.
I was so horny. I decided I could be bold if I'm the only one still here. I'll head back to the big straight theater just inside the door and drop my shorts there and just feel like a slut while I jerk off alone. When I got back there, Beer Dad was in his dark corner again. I don't even know where he came from. I hadn't seen him walking around the other areas.
I made a fateful decision and chose a seat on one of the couches closer to him. From there, I could see he was more openly jerking off, but I couldn't really see his dick all that well. He barely had it pulled out of his cargo shorts. We can just jerk off together. That's still responsible.
"They're about to close," he said to me. I thought this place had been 24 hours a day, too, I thought to myself. Sad, I thought, except I don't live here anymore, so why should I care?
