Potting Victoria's Pink

(Part 1 from 2)

“Do you want a drink in the bar before we go out?” My husband asked me, as I was applying the last of my lipstick, before we went out ‘on the town’. 
Because he had been working very hard, and felt that he had been neglecting me, my husband had booked a romantic weekend away, in a small Cotswold hotel.
“We might as well,” I replied, as I picked up my bag.

As Sam ordered the drinks, at the bar, I looked around. There were only three old men at the bar, two middle aged couples, (not talking), and a group of young men, noisily, playing pool, at the other end.
“This looks a bundle of fun.” I grumbled.

My husband’s eyes lit up when he spotted the pool table.
“Just one game?” he winked, as he headed towards the men.
I spotted some of the group nudge each other, and grin, as we approached.

I’m quite tall and slim, and was wearing a loose, black vest with my tightest, hipster jeans, as well as a pair of 3 inch, spiked stilettos.
“Who’s on next?” Sam asked the tallest guy. “JJ plays the winner. Then Bam Bam.” He replied in a husky Geordie accent, “Are you any good?”
“Alright.” Sam smiled, shrugging his shoulders, knowing full well that he was a local champion.

“I’m Al.” The man introduced himself.
“Sam and Victoria,” my husband said, nodding at me.

Two of the guys nudged each other, and I heard them whisper, “Look at the arse on her! Fucking Hell! I’d like to get my face in-between those cheeks!” 
The shorter one (Louie) joked, “I’ll bet you a tenner that Al gets in her pants before midnight!” “You’re on!” The blonde lad (Woody) replied.

"No chance!" I thought to myself as I slowly sat on a stool, next to the window; making sure that they got a real good look at my arse, as Sam brought over the drinks. 

After ten minutes, or so, I had began to relax. I couldn't help but smile, as they played their game. The Geordie lads constantly goaded and made fun of each other. When Sam began his game, Al stood next to me, “I’m sorry if they’re a bit course,” he apologised for his friends strong language, “but they’ve been working away from home for a couple of weeks, and get excited at the sight of a pretty woman.”

I smiled and said that it was okay. When I produced a cigarette, he pulled out a lighter. As I lent forward, to accept the light, I heard JJ cough, and whisper “pink,”
“Shit!” I thought, “he’s seen my thong!” 

I turned to see that four of them had gathered behind me, giggling, like schoolboys.
I smiled, letting them know that they had been rumbled.

Sam won his game, and had to play a small wiry lad called Hugo. 
Now, on my third Bacardi Breezer, I decided to have some fun, of my own.

At every opportunity I would, accidentally, bend forward to get something out of my bag, or scratch my ankle, giving the lads behind me a good view of my thong, or down my vest, at my cleavage. 

By the time Sam, finally, got beat, we were all on first name terms, and had had a good laugh. They were builders, from Newcastle, converting a nursing home, at the other end of town. 

When Sam and I finally found a restaurant I was already a little bit pissed.
By the time we left, 90 minutes later, I was very, very pissed, and very, very horny.
When we arrived back at the hotel, only Al and Bam Bam were still at the bar.
“Are you going to have a ‘night-cap’, with us?” Al asked.

“Yes!” I replied, very loudly.

“I’m not sure,” Sam shook his head, “she’s a little bit ‘relaxed’, already.”

Throwing my arms around his large waist, I hugged Al, with all my might
I announced, “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve had another drink!”
Laughing, my husband went to the toilet, leaving me to choose a drink.

“I don’t know what I want.” I laughed, as I released my grip.
When I turned, to choose a drink, the heel of my shoe caught a stool, and I stumbled and fell onto Bam Bam. Instinctively he put his hands out to save me, and got a handful of my large 38DD tits. As he did this, Al grabbed my hips with one hand, and my knickers with the other, pulling me into his lap. 

He nuzzled my ear and whispered, “I know what you really want and it’s not a drink, is it?” 

Suddenly, Sam approached the bar, “What’s going on here?” he laughed as I rocked from side to side on the builder's lap.

“Victoria had a little fall, and we saved the day.” Al replied, nonchalantly, although he was still tugging at the back of my tiny g-string, stretching it along my swollen pussy, just out of sight of my husband. I did nothing to stop him.

“I think that we’d better go to bed, before you cause any more trouble,” Sam told me, as he took my hand. As I stepped forward, Al let go of my pants, causing the elastic to snap against my arse. I turned and smiled. He winked and blew me a kiss.

“Good night, and have fun,” he laughed as we left the bar.
As I walked upstairs, my g-string was rubbing, uncomfortably, against my pussy. 

By the time that we had washed and got undressed, the room was spinning like a merry go round. 

I was desperately in need of a good fuck, but was afraid that I could be sick at any moment, if we did. Frustrated, I finally fell asleep, sprawled across my husband.
When we finally made it to breakfast, Al and his pals had, thankfully, left for work.

My hangover soon cleared, and we spent the rest of Saturday shopping in town. 

We spotted a very nice restaurant, which we booked for the evening and decided to go to a club afterwards. 

That night, back in the hotel room, Sam was fidgeting, watching TV as I applied my make-up.
“For God’s sake go to the bar, if you want!” I playfully shouted at him, “I’ll come down when I’m ready.”
“Okay. If you insist!” he laughed, as he jumped off the bed, and was out of the room in a flash.

I looked at myself, in the mirror, and smiled. I was feeling just as horny, as the previous night. Hotels have that effect on me, but all I could think about was Bam Bam touching my tits, while Al played with my knickers. My pussy was quickly becoming very wet, and I promised myself that Sam would get a night that he wouldn’t forget.

After applying the final touch of lip-gloss, I opened my bag, to select my outfit.

Stockings (of course), a tiny, white g-string that has a diamante heart at the back, a black mini-skirt, silver, low cut, v-neck, top, with my favourite low cut bra. This would knock my husband for six.

When I walked into the bar, Sam was playing pool with one of the young guys from the Friday night. The others, all dressed smartly, were sitting nearby.
“Fucking Hell!” Bam Bam shouted. He was about 5ft 9ins, athletic with short brown hair. He was quite attractive, in a boyish way.

Shaking his head, and looking at my husband, Al laughed, “That’s some wife, you’ve got, there, mate.” Then looking me up and down, with his piercing blue eyes, “She looks good enough to eat.”

The tallest, a skinhead called Carl, was already at the bar, and bought me a drink.

Dec smiled at me, but was too engrossed in his game of pool to notice the effect that I was having on the others, who had all gathered around me, at the bar.
Al offered me a cigarette, and as he lit it, whispered, in his sexy Geordie accent, “You should come out with us tonight, pet. I think that we could show you a better time than Hurricane Higgins, over there.” As he said the last words, his hand slid up my stocking clad leg and under my skirt until he squeezed my bare arse cheek.
I went weak at the knees. Grinning at him I took a long, slow, sip of my drink.

"I'll be entertained enough by my husband, thanks." I told him as I tried to move away from his wandering hand, but was obstructed by two of his friends.
Still with his hand up my skirt, but obscuring the view, from Sam, he shouted, “I was just telling your wife, we should all go to a club, later, it could be a laugh.”
My husband looked up and nodded, unaware that this man was stroking his wife’s arse, “Sounds good.”

“Sorted!” Al chuckled, his fingers playing with the string at the back of my pants, pulling it into my sopping pussy, like the previous night; “We’ll see you back here at 11, then.”

As we ate our meals, Sam and I chatted about Al and his friends. I couldn’t sit still; my pussy was throbbing so much. I tried to be careful with what I drank, but we still managed to finish two bottles of red wine and a couple of brandies.

“Are you sure that you don’t mind going clubbing with these guys?” I asked him as we entered the hotel bar.
“It’ll be a good laugh. They seem safe enough.” He replied, 

Sure enough, Al and his work mates were already there. The rest of the bar was empty apart from the young Irish bartender, Shay.
“What do you want? It’s my round.” Al called to us.

“A pint of lager and a Pineapple Breezer,” Sam told him, then said, “I’m going for a piss.” 
When I stood next to Al, his eyes had changed. No longer twinkling, they had a hard look about them. This was a man who was used to getting what he wanted. “Had a good time?” he asked as he handed me my drink.

“Yes, thanks. The meal was lovely. Have you eaten?” I replied. My heart beating faster, by the minute.

“Not yet,” he laughed as he nudged Carl, “but I wouldn't mind some hairy pie, later.” Both men laughed, at me. I stuck my tongue out, and playfully punched his arm. I knew that my nipples were giving away my real feelings.

“We can have a couple here, then get taxi’s over to St. James’s, at midnight.” Al told me. 

Sam appeared, “Time for a quick game, then?” He looked at JJ, then the pool table. JJ looked at Al, who nodded.
As they started their game, Al started his. 

Within seconds, Carl, Bam Bam and Al had surrounded me. Without arousing my husbands’ suspicions, their hands immediately began stroking my long, nylon clad legs. Fingers were pulling at the back of my g-string. When I showed no resistance, they got braver and openly squeezed my arse and teased my pubes through my tiny pants. Al even slid a finger just inside my pussy lips, then slowly withdrew it, scooping out some of my juice, before placing it under his nose and, theatrically, inhaling my musk.

“That smells nice!” he said as he invited Bam Bam to smell his finger, “You didn’t, really, want to go clubbing did you?” Al whispered, in my ear. 
Looking into his magnetic, pale blue eyes, I nervously shook my head.

I closed my eyes and stood, pressed against the bar, as these three men sent me to Heaven, and I did nothing to stop them. My skirt was now being pulled up exposing my thong and stockings for their pleasure. Two others had now joined the first three men. All five pairs of hands explored my breasts; legs and soaking wet pussy.

“Shay! Lock that door.” I heard one of them shout to the barman.

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