We were on our way to see a band my wife loves. I didn't know much about this band, but she was excited and I was desperate for a night out. What with work and the kids dropping in for the odd weekend at home and all the other things that consume our weekends, Julia and I hadn’t had a date night in several months. So I jumped when she suggested we go into the city to see if we could score last-minute tickets to see The Dribs. They were playing in a small club in the trendy Seaport neighborhood, and I assumed it would be sold out.

She was streaming their music all the way into the city. Sometimes, as a particular song would wind up, Julia would say, “You better dance with me if they play this.” I’m a terrible dancer. My feet are all thumbs. But I try to be a good sport about it. Finally, as we were working through evening traffic, a song came up in the playlist that Julia had been waiting for. “This is Jack In The Pulpit,” she said excitedly. “If they play this, I may have to blow you on the dance floor.” 

I pressed the gas. “I will pay $200 for tickets if I have to!”

( . )

I didn’t have to. The place was only half-full and where I had assumed we would be forced to stand, crushed, in a corner, we actually got a table in the front.

I got our drinks and carried them to the table. “This is your lucky night,” I said as the opening band started up. She clinked my beer bottle with her wine glass and grinned.

We were on our second round of drinks when the stage cleared. I was watching the band’s one roadie reset the stage when Julia clutched my arm and pointed to the bar. “That’s them!”

I turned in my chair. “Don’t look!” she hissed…and stared. I rolled my eyes. “Ohmygod, ohmygod,” she hummed.

I sensed the trio walking our way. They actually split around our table. I thought Julia might faint. She kept her eyes on one particular guy (who I would soon discover was the bassist) with brown curly hair and tight jeans. I grinned as she followed his every move as he climbed onto the stage, picked up his guitar, found the cord, and plugged in. 

I leaned over the table and touched her arm to get her attention. “I bet you can’t wait to see how he handles that long…bass.” She laughed, a little, but didn’t take her eyes off of him.

Halfway through the first song, Julia looked at me bright-eyed. “Time to dance.”

I groaned, but got to my feet. Like I said. I’m not a good dancer. I have no rhythm. I have a hard time making different extremities move in complementary ways…or even in the same direction. I’m pretty sure my face looks like I’m taking an algebra test.

It’s a lot worse when we’re the only ones dancing. 

This was not just a small crowd, tonight, it was a sleepy one. 

Do you know why I kept at it? Why I didn’t drag her back to the table to save me from my own embarrassment?

It’s because Julia was eye-fucking the bass player the whole time. And the singer. Possibly the drummer, too. Only I…and the band…could see how her eyes smoldered as she danced in front of them. In fact, she wasn’t really dancing with me, so much as dancing in proximity to me. The bassist could not take his eyes off her tits. I suspected the singer would forget the lyrics at any minute. We had done some sexy stuff, even had some brushes with group sex, but I hadn’t seen her this horny, and this wanton about it, since before COVID.

So I kept dancing so I could stay on the floor to watch. 

But eventually, the spell was broken when they moved to a fast-paced song–one I knew was her least favorite. As if a switch had been flipped, the heat in her eyes cooled a little and she asked if I wanted to go back to the table.

I went to get us another round as she took her seat. Coming back, I leaned down to her ear again as I passed her her third glass of wine. “I thought you were going to rush the stage and fuck those guys right there!” I laughed.

She fanned herself and took a gulp of cool wine. “I thought so, too! I’m so sorry. That must have been really uncomfortable for you.”

I often have to reassure her that I’m very much OK with her being turned on by other men. “Oh no, I was riveted to your face, and theirs, the whole time,” I started to say.

“I know you were. I meant that must have been really uncomfortable trying to dance with a hard-on,” she laughed.

She kept eye-balling the band, and they kept eye-balling her, for the next three or four songs. Much as I hated to miss one second of the eye-orgy that they were in, three beers were on my bladder and I had to make a run for it before they broke between sets and signaled a stampede for the bathroom. 

The bathroom was empty, so I beelined for the urinal and tried to hurry the process along. Three beers take a minute to wind their way through the pipes so I looked around. The door to the second stall from the end was open and something caught my eye. I zipped up and walked over to investigate.

I had always wanted to see a glory hole, and now I was looking at one: a perfect circle cut in the side of the stall. I checked to see if ALL the stalls had them, but it was just this one. For years, I tried to get my wife interested in gloryholes. The handful of occasions I’ve gotten to watch her suck another man’s cock (especially while making eye contact with me…or him) are probably the most erotic memories I have. The idea of her attacking an anonymous cock with her mouth while pumping mine in her hand electrified me.

Even if she had no interest in visiting a real glory hole, I hoped she would at least play along with the fantasy in bed. But for Julia, the idea of not even being able to see the man to whom the cock was attached was a deal-breaker. Even in the safety of our own bedroom, when I would occasionally bring it up, she would end up lecturing about the dangers of anonymous sex, the higher selectivity of women for sexual partners, the questionable hygiene of such places. If you’re keeping score, that’s buzzkill, buzzkill, buzzkill.

So I learned to keep that fantasy to myself. 

I looked around some more. The place was pretty clean. I picked up a few damp paper towels off the floor. Even though the floor looked clean to me, I wet another at the sink and tossed it on the floor at the base of the toilet in the center stall and used my shoe to push it around. I repeated the process with a dry one. Then I washed my hands and took one more look. 

As far as I could tell, there had never been a more hygienic bathroom.

I walked back to the table trying to suppress a grin. It hardly mattered. From this angle, with the bathroom behind me and the stage at my right elbow, I could see that Julia was doing more than eye-fucking the band. She had one hand gripping her wine glass, and the other had slipped beneath the table where she had pulled her skirt up. She was running one finger over her panties.

Luckily for her, none of the other patrons could see. Just me. 

And probably the band.

When she saw me coming, she pulled her hand away and smiled, embarrassed.

I took a sip of my beer and leaned across the table. “Having fun yet?”

She grinned.

I leaned over again. “How many more songs in this set?”

“They just said two more and they’re going to take a break.”

I took another sip of my beer. The glass was empty. “I’ll go get another round but you’ll never guess what I saw in the bathroom.”

Julia wrinkled her nose. “Does this seem like a good time to tell me what you saw in the men’s room?”

I stood to go to the bar, but before I walked away, I leaned down and whispered in her ear. As I straightened, I could see her eyes widen and she looked down and to the right. “Be right back with those drinks,” I said.

I was hoping that I could get her to go in there for a look during the next set. I imagined we could sneak away, mostly unnoticed, so she could see how absolutely clean and hygienic gloryholes actually were. Maybe this was a way to reopen negotiations on that particular fantasy. But just as I was speaking to the bartender, the song ended and I heard the singer say, “We’re going to take a little break. Stick around for another set.” 

Wait. I thought…

Our table was empty. I turned as the door to the men’s room swung shut. The band must have drank a lot of water between songs, because all three of them were looking in the same direction.

( . )( . )

Short of a flat-out run, I have never moved so fast in my whole life. The band was still unplugging and untangling from guitars as I slid into the bathroom. There was Julia standing in front of the stall. She had a hand on the door but she looked frightened, then relieved, to see me. “Maybe this was a bad idea…”

“People are coming in right behind me,” I panted as I rushed to her. “In or out?”

The door opened behind me and Julia darted into the stall, me right behind her.

In three seconds, there were seven or eight people in the bathroom. Clearly, the band was here. You could hear a few patrons complimenting them on the set, and you could hear the band themselves talking loudly at the urinals and the sinks. Julia looked panicked at first, her face bright red, then she slowly sat down on the toilet (after observing that it was remarkably clean) and tried to compose herself. We said nothing.

After a minute, the band ushered the last of the fans out. “Mind if we have the room, man? We need to work out some changes to the last set.”

We heard a guy's voice say, “No problem.” And the door shut. 

“Someone wanna lean against the door?”

“Better be me,” a voice said. I knew Ty was the drummer. During the show, he had mentioned his girlfriend was in the audience. 

For a minute, it was very quiet. We knew they knew that we knew that they knew we were in the stall. My feet were surely visible. But no one said a word for a very long time. 

Finally, the voice I knew belonged to Jack, the lead singer, said loudly to his bandmates. “How about the MILF with the awesome tits? Anyone else having a hard time remembering chords?”

“I think my dick is bruised from being so hard all night,” said Paul, the bassist. 

The door to the stall on our right opened and someone stepped in. Jack called out to the others, “I want a piece of that so bad. Wonder if SHE takes requests?”

Julia looked like she was holding her breath. Her eyes were fixed on the hole.

Sure enough, a semi-hard cock with a bright pink head pushed through the hole. The room was quiet. Julia stared at the cock, then looked up at me, slightly cocking one eyebrow.

I smiled at one corner of the mouth.

Very slowly, she reached out and cradled the cock in her hand, running her thumb over the tip then pulling it slightly.

Julia smiled. She took it in her other hand. After a few seconds, she looked into my eyes as she leaned forward and ran her tongue across the tip of the cock. It twitched and someone on the other side of the wall exhaled loudly. 

The cock was now fully erect and she closed her mouth around the head and slowly, slowly, pushed her mouth down the length of the shaft. Her eyes closed in obvious ecstasy.

After a minute of this, she opened her eyes and looked at me again as she flicked her tongue on the very tip then swallowed the whole shaft and began to bob vigorously. 

My hand drifted to my zipper, and as I slowly lowered it, Julia opened her eyes and smiled. She continued sucking, but she reached out, grabbed the shaft of my cock, and pulled fast. 

Soon she had a rhythm going that allowed her to handle one in her hand and another in her mouth in a strange cadence. It was mesmerizing. But after a few minutes, while her mouth was on me, the voice on the other side of the wall said, “Yes, yes, yes!” and he rapped his knuckles on the wall. Confused, Julie pulled her mouth away and looked at the throbbing cock in her hand just as it started to shoot little ropes onto her cleavage and neck. She lost no time stuffing it into her mouth. 

As soon as he withdrew she released me and looked up. I knew that she wanted to get up and clean off at the sink. Without waiting for further instruction, I reached behind me and unlocked the door and let it swing open. I held out my hand to help Julia to her feet then stepped out of the stall and held the door open for her.

The singer was just exiting the stall with a slightly dazed look on his face and Paul stood nearby looking disappointed that we were leaving so soon. But as soon as Julia had wiped her chest and neck clean at the sink, she looked at the bassist in the mirror and smiled.

She wiped her chin with the back of her hand. “Anyone got a condom?” she asked loudly.

The bassist immediately fumbled in his back pocket and was pulling a condom from his wallet within seconds. Julia took it from him dubiously, opened and inspected it, then reached down and unzipped his pants. She rolled it onto him expertly, then turned around and gripped the edge of the counter as he took up position behind her.

She gasped loudly as he slipped in, then began to moan as he mercilessly pounded her from behind. I was leaning on the sink beside her, still erect, but she couldn’t touch me because she needed both hands to brace herself. I knew she was soaked and open because, in just a minute, he was pulling all the way out of her and then ramming her against the counter. Her moans got louder and louder and he called out finally that he was cumming. 

Suddenly the room was quiet except for their panting. The trance broken, I looked over my shoulder at the drummer and singer, leaning against the door. I could tell by the looks on their faces, that they knew the whole bar had heard this.

The three of them thanked Julia and complimented her skills while the bassist was straightening his clothes and putting himself back together. 

Julia said nothing until they were leaving the room. She looked like she had been slapped awake from a dream. “That was amazing,” she said to me, putting her hand on mine and looking down at my half-deflated cock. “I don’t think I can go back out in front of people like this. Maybe I could take care of you while we figure out how to find a back door or something?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to leave, yet,” I said. I turned to Jack, the singer, who was just about to step through the door.

“Do you think you could play Jack In The Pulpit tonight?” I asked.

He beamed at us. “Dude, we love to play requests.”