Throughout July I’d been extremely horny — and I mean more than normal. I was pleased to have a Saturday swinger’s party on the horizon but, before that, I had quite an amazing night.

I was invited out to dinner with a new woman at work who is, technically, my boss — one of many bosses in the firm. We’d been talking and emailing a lot, and I guessed she liked me more than the rest. She's of similar age to me but more educated, and I thought she was gay. I liked that idea. 

It was at lunch when she asked me out and I accepted, hoping for more information about her — and maybe confirm if she was lesbian or not.

I told my husband I was going out, that I’d be late home, and filled him in on Diane. She’s a little on the large side but not fat and has her short blonde hair cut rather like a tomboy. But she's a dentist, and I hadn’t really got a good read on her. 

She selected the restaurant, and I went home to dress: sexy but casual, nothing special. I texted Diane my ETA and took an Uber as I planned on drinking. After all, the restaurant was famous for its wine list. 

The Uber driver was too young to bother flirting with, and I actually arrived early and ordered a glass of sparkling wine. When Diane walked in, she was accompanied by a long-haired beautiful woman, about our age but sexy as hell. She was introduced as Diane’s girlfriend. Yes, I was right — but I felt slightly jealous. Kay really was stunning, tall and leggy. 

Apparently, they’d been together for just over a year and, when Diane went to the bar to order a bottle, Kay said, “I've heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, really?” I was surprised. "We hardly talk.”

“You’ve been described as beautiful and sexy.”

“Wow,” I said. “But not as beautiful as you.” 

Kay smiled just as Diane returned with a waiter and a very expensive bottle of wine. He poured and we drank it with our hors d’oeuvres, chatting about work and other mundane matters. 

Kay suddenly said, “Sorry if Diane's hitting on you at work.”

I was stunned but recovered to say, “Actually, I like it.”

“Well, Diane,” Kay said turning to her partner, “you can flip this one.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked but smiled as I kind of knew the answer.

Diane blushed and said she didn’t know what Kay was talking about. 

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I’m flattered and I'm pretty sure I've gone down on more women than both of you.”

That changed everything. They wanted to know my story so I said, “I'm polyamorous and happily married but we swing a lot and I normally play with women at parties.”

We drank the bottle and chatted more about parties and other assorted sex stuff, and I also learned that Kay worked in I.T. and they lived in the Seaport. Very nice.

As it got late, I thanked them for dinner, ordered my Uber and we parted with a goodnight kiss — not sexy, just a quick kiss from both of them. 

It was dark when the Uber driver with a name like alphabet soup arrived to pick me up, and he said almost nothing. I’d picked pool as I hoped for someone hot to get in the car! 

I sent a text to Diane saying Kay was beautiful and she was lucky and I owed her for the next dinner.

She replied: Maybe next time it will be at our place.

I quickly sent her a picture of me half-naked and got the response, OMG.

I laughed and sent, See you Monday at work.

I was very horny by now and I went on my app and got the message that Jonathan would be joining me. I hoped he was cool.

An older gentleman carrying a bag got in the car and greeted me in what sounded like a British accent. He’d come out of a restaurant in the same block, and I thought he was drunk. 

As the driver pulled off, I turned to Jonathan and said, “Hello, how was your dinner?”

“Great, but the company wasn’t." 

I said mine had been okay and the wine had been great. 

“Yes, our wine was divine,” he said, opening his bag and pulling out a bottle. It was a French Cabernet, a brand I knew that wasn't cheap.

“Good wine,” I said, impressed.

He asked if I knew wine. “Some — I'm not a sommelier, but I know my way around a wine store.”

We discussed wine for a time on the ride toward North Shore, and I asked if he was headed to my town. He said, “No, Nahant but I wish I lived in your town.”

I said I hated it and we laughed at some of the comparisons between the two. 

I asked what had made his company bad at the restaurant. “I was with a woman I’ve been dating for about a month and it’s going nowhere. She’s not very nice to be around. Like most women my age, they’re bitter and broken from the past.”

Then he asked if I’d ever been on dating sites and I laughed and told him a few stories from back when I was single. I told him I was now married, and he instantly became a little withdrawn. 

“Figures,” he mumbled. “Every beautiful woman is taken.”

“Yeah, I know. I just left a co-worker who is gay and she'd brought her girlfriend with her.”

He laughed and we pulled onto the island where he lived. “Very nice meeting you,” he said as we drew close to his home, which had a view of Boston over the Bay.

“Nice to meet you as well, Jonathan.”

“My friends call me John,” he said, and I told him my name. He smiled. “I’d invite you in for a glass of wine but I'm sure your husband wouldn't like that.”

“I don't see him in this car. Do you?”

“Ah, well then, would you care to join me for a nightcap?”

I’m sure the driver smirked when I told him I’d be getting out and we both vacated the car.

John’s home was small but well decorated, and I could tell he had money. 

He reached for a bottle from a shelf and showed it to me. I was surprised he even had it. It was a Barolo that I’d only seen in magazines. 

“That's beautiful,” I said, “but don’t waste it on me.”

“It’s not a waste. I’d like to enjoy it with somebody who appreciates wine,” he said and popped it open. He poured into perfect glasses and it was amazing. 

“Tell me about yourself,” I said as we sipped.

John had moved from New Zealand in the nineties and lived in a few places. His family worked in architecture, designing homes, but he’d retired when his wife passed away.

I said, “Sorry to hear that,” but he said it was fine, it had been six years ago.

I decided to make the first move. “New Zealand, huh?” I said. “So you’re uncut?”

“Wow!” He grinned. “Yes… yes, I am.” 

I told him, for that reason alone, I could love foreign men. “It’s so natural and so unlike circumcised Americans.”

“Hmm, I like American women because they’re always shaved and groomed.”

“I thought every woman was like that,” I said.

“Oh no. A lot of women I’ve met are not.”

“Well, I am,” I said and hiked up my skirt to show him I was bald.

He chortled. “I see what you mean,” he said, laughing. We clinked glasses and he added, “Here’s to well-groomed women.”

He refreshed our glasses. “This is amazing wine,” he said in a dominant tone. “I’d like to drink it off that bald vagina of yours.”

What he couldn’t anticipate was that I’d love it also. I told him that, after my dinner with Diane and Kay, I was hoping that I’d have my pussy licked tonight. 

“Why, are you gay?”

“No, John, I'm bi,” I said, “and sometimes you need what you need when you need it.”

“Follow me,” he said and carried his wine upstairs. He pointed to the bed. "Make yourself comfortable.”

I removed my dress and lay on the bed. “Beautiful,” he said and crawled between my legs. He trickled wine over me, letting it run down to my vagina, and began to lick and suck. I moaned and raised my hips till he really got down to work. The man had skills, and I let him insert a few fingers. 

I moaned while he got me off and I ran my fingers through his hair, holding him there, urging him to keep licking until I came. I needed it.

“Your turn now,” I said, and he told me to slide to the end of the bed. 

John smiled as he dropped his shorts to reveal an impressive thick uncut cock. “So, you like uncut, eh?” was the last thing I heard as he brought my head with some force to his erection. 

He moaned as I sucked and he throbbed while the big knob poked out of his foreskin. I thought he was ready to cum, but he pulled back and repositioned me on my stomach. He entered me and immediately started fucking while massaging my asshole with a thumb. When he gained speed, he forced his thumb into my dark hole. He didn’t speak, but he groaned and grunted and lasted longer than I expected. Eventually, he pulled out and splashed his cream on my ass before collapsing next to me, gasping for breath. 

Minutes later, he broke the silence. “That was a pleasant surprise.”

“Yes.” I smiled. “I didn't expect to do that either.”

He gave me his card as I ordered another Uber home. He walked me to the door and said he hoped to share wine with me again. Looking at his wine cellar, I confess I’m very interested.

Back home, I told my husband I was right about my new boss being gay. “She isn't interested in me but she does think I’m hot.”

We laughed at that and, after a quick shower, I gave him a long blow job before sleep.

Hopefully, it won’t be the only time I get together with the sexy people I met that night.