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A bookstore virgin
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A bookstore virgin Okay, I know what you are thinking. Getting your wife laid under safe, sane, and anonymous conditions should be a snap. Believe me I thought so too. Then you enter into the actual mechanics of a plan and you immediately begin to see this is not the case at all. The first idea which always occurs is that I must know somebody who can be trusted to do this and keep his mouth shut. What immediately follows this is the realization that you will now get to look at somebody, who may or may not think you are a freak, for the rest of your life, not talking about the elephant in the room. That and the fact that the only way to be sure and keep a secret is to kill anyone you tell immediately. So now you realize that anonymous is the way to go. They don’t get to know who you are, where you live, or how to contact you again. They have to be geographically distant enough that you won’t run into them at the grocery store, and able to meet in a place where nobody knows you. You must be able to look at them first and determine they aren’t an ax murderer, and are hygienically acceptable to the wife, Most of all, they have to be somebody that with very limited conversation and personal information is prepared to hear, “I am trying to get my wife laid,” without assuming they are being set up for a mugging or blackmail scam. I can hear you thinking. “Dude, you are making too much out of this.” I would point out that if the realities of small town America where we live have their own set of hazards, a quick look in the paper will show you that a trip to town is no picnic either. An adult bookstore may seem like a seedy, unclean, and generally horrible alternative to consider but then again it has tremendous advantages. First, nobody in there is in any way interested in who you actually are. If a couple walks into the video area of the bookstore I have discovered it sends a message immediately. Everybody lurking about the place is hoping for a hook up of some type. The presumption is often that these people are all closet gays looking for the same, but a bit of research showed me that this is not the case. You see couples do occasionally come in on missions similar to mine. Scarce as hen’s teeth to be sure, but it does happen, and there are straight guys who do show up with this threadbare hope in mind. Lately this sort of couple’s activity seem to be gaining in popularity, and was even seen to appear on our local Craig’s list from time to time. I was unaware of this on our first trip to the place, but my wife is a demon for research and gave me a thumbnail sketch of what was up. I would have to say that as a military veteran of long and exotic service in third world shitholes I probably overthink security and see threats everywhere. Still my wife is the most precious thing in my life and it’s always better to be safe than sorry. When we decided on a night to make an initial trip to the bookstore I went prepared for hostile weirdness, and was equipped to make my own exit if necessary. I really need not have worried. The strange looking girl behind the counter didn’t even offer me an opportunity for the elaborate explanation I had prepared, and simply handed me a bunch of tokens in exchange for my money. I probably looked nervous enough to be a candidate for robbing the place I suppose, but this was obviously all an old story to her. My wife of course had not batted an eye at all of this and took the lead as we entered the dark hallway lined with doors. It seemed a strange layout to me in that it was sort of a maze back there with a lot of unnecessary walls and partitions. There were a few men of undetermined description standing around in the hall, and I considered it a bit strange although helpful that they all seemed to step back quickly and place their backs to the wall offering the wife and I clear passage. The booth that we chose was advertised as vacant by virtue of the partially open door, which had a bolt on the inside. While not what I would call clean there didn’t seem to be puddles of body fluids about, and there was a video screen on one wall and sort of a bench seat on the other. Like I said it was not especially clean, and the place evidenced signs that I took to be a state of disrepair. Notably there was a hole in the wall that I assumed was where somebody had removed an electric socket and then not replaced it. I didn’t see that there was much room for any sort of<b> sexual activity. </font></b>I began to feed tokens into the porn machine, which showed a variety of low quality crap both gay and straight and took a seat next to the wife. I was fairly nervous as the place had what I took to be rodent activity in the walls. There seemed to be a variety of scratching sounds coming for the cubicle walls on two sides, but there were no other sounds indicating human activity or occupation. I kept an eye on the electric socket hole in case any of the rodents actually appeared. We sat perhaps for maybe an hour, using all our tokens, and the wife said very little. The porn was awful. I am not sure what I expected to happen but nothing did. As we left I noticed some of the same shadowy figures about, but everyone was absolutely silent, and I saw no real opportunity for communication. We simply left without incident. Let me say that my wife is a wonderful creature who assumes that I have an awareness of things beyond potential hostile threats and possible rodent activity. Not seeing herself in any danger whatsoever she assumes that I am seeing what she is seeing, and that I know what she knows. This has led to more than a few misunderstandings. When my first comment on starting the car was that I was worried about anyplace that had rats and left the electric outlets empty I was not sure whether she was going to bust a gut laughing or hit me in the face. It was then that my education began on bookstore etiquette, gloryholes, and how to find anonymous sex in a video equipped broom closet. |
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