Meet and Flash in Charlotte

Meet and Flash in Charlotte
The true life story of my first threesome. (MFM, voy, exhi, oral)
© 2005 Rhys.The.Mage

A week ago I was a man who had been married for fifteen years and had never so much as kissed another woman. So while it may be a very tired clich?traight out of Penthouse, I have to begin with “I never thought it could happen to me.” Except for the names and places, everything you read below is the true story of two of the most exciting hours of my life.

Last Monday night I was surfing the forums on the Voyeurweb website looking for plot ideas for a story. I paged over to the Exhi Meeting Point forum, a place where, ostensibly, exhibitionists arrange meetings to show off. The idea is that you can pick the people you will be flashing, and arrange to meet. Much better than hoping people you run into will have the right idea and same enthusiasm as yourself.

One of the threads was titled Charlotte – Center City area. I just happened to be spending a few months on business in Charlotte so I opened it. As I did I remembered once a few years ago when I tried to arrange a meeting at a Home Depot. Nothing ever happened. This one read “Wife is in a sexy/flashing mood for this weekend. Looking for respectful voyeurs (and maybe more).” It went on to request an email, photo, etc. I figured what the hell and paged over to one of my many email accounts.

I sent out an email under the subject line “Meet and Flash in Charlotte”. It read “I’m in that area and would love to see your wife’s bits. Just let me know where and when and I’ll be there. There are a couple of good malls in the area.” As I hit send, I didn’t figure I would hear anything back, but it wasn’t like it was costing me anything but a few seconds to try.

The next day, there was an email waiting for me. “We would like to stay in the area of the hotel. If you could send us a picture it might help us decide.”

I replied, “I am a moderately decent looking middle-aged fellow. I’d love to meet you. Let me know when and where to be.” So far so good, but it was still a long way from actually getting together.

The next email, on Wednesday, read, “Okay, we’re game. The Holiday Inn at Center City. The game starts at 1. We’ll see you in the lounge. What will you be wearing?”

I thought about my wardrobe as I replied that night. “I’ll be there. I’ll be wearing an LSU football t-shirt and blue jeans. See you then. By the way, you might like to call me Bill instead of ‘you.’”

I didn’t expect any other emails as I figured the rules of the game were pretty clear. I would show up, dressed identifiably, and wait to be flashed by a lady, hopefully. If you think about it, however, it’s a bit more complicated than that. After all, if there’s more than one woman present, you’d have to be eyeballing every one of them, rather lecherously, on a regular basis to make sure you didn’t miss getting flashed. I figured one of them would make contact and I would just get to enjoy the show.

Friday morning there was another email. “Show starts at 1pm. Do not approach us. My wife will make all the right moves.” Sounded like I was on the right track so far.
Late Sunday morning I put on my LSU shirt and a pair of jeans and headed out for a walk. The downtown area was absolutely dead on Sunday morning. The center of downtown was probably bustling on weekdays, but on the weekends there was no one working there. I walked for twenty minutes looking for the hotel. I found myself looking at all the couples on the street, wondering if any of them were the ones. Was that cute chick with the nice tits the one? What about that young, way over weight couple? I realized any of them could me attire and I had no idea who they were. It really had me wondering. Truth be told, my time on voyeurweb told me my couple would be middle aged, like me, and decent looking—unlikely to be from either end of the spectrum. It was kind of like when you talk to someone on the phone that you have never met. You form an idea of what they look like but without any specifics.

At a quarter to one I walked into the hotel lobby and looked for the lounge/bar/restaurant. I spotted it off to the right and headed for one of the hostesses. For a place with no customers, there were four women at the podium. On the right was the dining room, with exactly one person seated for the twenty tables. Off to the left the bar was dark, empty, and the large screen TV was off. The lounge, adjacent to the bar but set back, was empty and dark. Three other flat screens were on and set to random channels.

One of the women made eye contact with me, “Can I help you?”

“I’m supposed to meet some friends here for lunch and maybe watch the game.”

She grabbed a menu and gestured behind her, “Sure, where would you like to sit?”

I looked around. Although dark and unpopulated, the lounge was the meeting spot. “Can I sit over there?”

She looked surprised but said, “Go ahead.”

I moved past her and eyed the lounge. Hoping my flasher would still show, even without a crowd, I looked for a seat where she could have her back to the server station and face me at the same time. I picked out a spot and sat down. A minute later the waitress came over with a placemat and table setting. “Can I get you something to drink besides water?” She had an accent I couldn’t place.

“Diet Coke?” She nodded and left me alone. A short time later the lights came on in the lounge. There were about ten tables, some stand alone and some against the back wall. There was a low wall, dotted with potted plants, separating the bar area from the lounge. The bar area had the ‘bar’, six or so seats at the counter, and several other tables. Uninterested in what was on TV and not feeling motivated to ask for a change of stations, I took out my current reading book out of my pack and started reading.

I placed my order for lunch, a grilled chicken sandwich. She asked if I wanted fries or chips then disappeared. By now it was 1 pm. From where I was sitting I could just see the front desk and I could catch glimpses of people heading to the elevators. Every time I caught movement I looked up. Nothing.

The waitress returned. “I am sorry, how did you want that cooked?”

Chicken? I didn’t know what the hell she meant.

She broke the pause, “Medium, or well done?”

I figured I better be safe. “Well done will be fine.”

“Well done,” she repeated. “What kind of cheese?”

Still lost by her questions, “Uh, provolone or swiss.”

“Swiss cheese. Okay. Thank you.”

I really wondered what was going to show up for lunch. At ten after one I still hadn’t seen anyone and I wondered if this was going to be just a goose chase. I told myself I would finish lunch and wait until 1:45.

Lunch arrived. A cheeseburger and fries. The burger was tasty enough, but how she went from grilled chicken to cheeseburger I couldn’t figure. I finished the burger, got another diet coke and squared to tab. At 1:30 I had pretty much quit watching the elevators and was more or less intent on the book. Someone walking closer got my attention.

An attractive middle aged woman was walking around the planter wall and toward me, watching the TV screens. “Are you watching the game?” she asked. I found that odd, considering I was facing away from the TV screens with my nose in a book when she walked up. Still, that was the cover for the meeting.

“I was going to meet someone and maybe watch the game, but I haven’t felt like asking them to change the channel.”

She smiled, a very pretty smile actually. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Please,” I gestured to the chairs at the table. I still didn’t know if she was the one. I had figured there would be a couple, not just one person. I was trying to check her out without being to obvious, just in case it wasn’t her. Odds were on her being the one, however, as it didn’t seem likely she was just trying to pick me up. The waitress arrived just as she sat down next to me. “Would you like something to drink?” I asked.

“Just water,” she said quietly to the waitress.

We made small talk about a great variety of subjects, and nothing in particular. I was going somewhat out of my way to let her know I was an average guy, maybe to make her feel relaxed. She seemed nervous to me. After all, we were the only ones around and I figured if she wanted to flash me she could have done so by now. Back to my first concern, I didn’t even know if it was her. She, however, if it was her, knew it was me by the shirt. As I said before, an interesting situation.

The time we spent talking, probably fifteen to twenty minutes, gave me a good chance to look her over. She and I made eye contact routinely. She was not a model, but she was athletically built and appeared toned. Great looking skin, golden blond hair, long trim legs, a white button down shirt and a dark colored skirt. Actually, it was her skirt that first gave me a hint that she was the one. It was really cold in the hotel lounge and I thought I could just make out perky nips and smallish boobs under her shirt. More than that, her shirt was buttoned down most of the way. Her skirt was short, and she repeatedly crossed and uncrossed her legs. I wondered if I was missing a message there, like she was going to flash me her panties or pussy. Of course, I couldn’t see anything, partly because it was dark and partly because of the table. I continued to enjoy the conversation, figuring, as the email said, ‘she would make all the right moves.’ I realized later that a good part of this was supposed to play out according to the script in her mind, not mine. Problem was I didn’t have the script and couldn’t help out.

“Do you think we could watch the game?” she asked me.

I nodded and went up to the two servers. Two of them had disappeared by this time. “Can you call up the game on one of the screens?” My lady friend had gotten up from the table and was nearby. Now that I was standing I could tell she was tall. Easily 5’10” in her three inch heels. The skirt was not more than four or five inches below her crotch. Very nice. And trim legs. Instead of continuing to call her ‘the lady’, I’ll now refer to her as Jen. At no time that afternoon did we exchange names, but ‘the lady’ sounds to busy.

As the waitress tuned the TVs, Jen asked, “Can we watch at the bar? On that TV?”

The waitress adjusted the TV behind the bar, put it on the football game, and told us she could not turn on the lights. She also told us the bar did not open until five. It was still just the two of us as I took the seat at the end of the bar. This gave Jen the option of sitting next to me, and if she turned toward me once again her back would be to the server station. Even better, the server station was masked by plants from the bar. We continued our small talk.

The sound of the game brought an additional person to the bar. He sat two seats down from us. Jen was not really watching the game. As much as I am not a football fan, she was clearly not into it. But she did want to be at the bar. She turned in her seat to face me and put her back to the gent to seats away. She put her feet up on the leg supports of the barstool. Her legs were slightly apart. I figured she wanted me to look, but I didn’t have a clear go ahead. I stole a glance. Bright red panties. I looked up at her. She said something, but I didn’t catch it. I leaned in closer.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked me with a slight grin on her face. My adrenalin kicked in at that instant. My heart was pounding. Clearly Jen was the woman.

“Very much,” I said, “Very pretty panties.”

She slowly reached up and undid another button on her shirt. She reached into her shirt slowly and rubbed a nipple. A brief look of pleasure crossed her face. She stood up and leaned toward me so I could hear her. “At the bar, I could lean in,” she leaned forward, her left side toward the bar, and pulled her shirt to the side. She watched my reaction as I looked at her areola. I got just a glimpse of nipple, and she held the shirt open only far enough to see the brown ring of skin surrounding it. She looked around slowly, confirming where people were (there were two more people at the end of the bar), and then slowly opened the right side of her blouse to show me both nips very briefly. She held her shirt open just enough for me to see both areola. I was getting a bit hard now, and my heart was still hammering in my chest.

I visibly adjusted my stiffening dick. As I hoped, it didn’t bother her. I decided to be a bit braver. “Can you hold your shirt open so I can see your boobs?” I said, hoping only she could hear me. She looked straight at me and slowly moved her hands to the shirt. Taking the role of an active conspirator, I said, “There’s no one watching and the workers can’t see us.”

She slowly, tantalizingly undid another button and pulled her shirt open. I was greeted by the sight of two plump little breasts topped with very nice nipples. She stroked her nipples and they instantly came to attention. I put her at an A cup. I typically like bigger tits, but hers appeared very sweet to me just then. Firm, with just a hint of droop. We were surprised then as one of the waitresses moved past us and went around the bar. She did something with the register and then disappeared. We smiled at each other. There was a little risk after all. She moved to open her blouse again, but I wanted it more open. I had an idea.

I lifted my glass. “You could just hold your shirt open with your left hand, no one will be able to see, and if anyone moves this way I will set my glass down.” She looked at me and then pulled her blouse to the side. She had taken her seat again, facing me. I had an unrestricted view of her left breast. Then she surprised me again.

“You can touch them if you like.”

I didn’t need to say anything. I reached out slowly and lifted that lovely breast. I watched her expression as I squeezed her tit. She was warm, my hands were cold. Her breast was nice and firm, rather like a ripe peach. Always having been a man who went for more than a handful, I was entranced at being able to squeeze the whole thing in my hand. I massaged her breast and then could no longer resist the urge to play with her nipples. I lightly pinched it in between squeezing her breast. Her nipple responded by firming up, but in an unusual way. It didn’t get hard—it got plump. Her nips stood at attention, I let it go and briefly stroked it through the material of her blouse. Her expression told me all I needed to know.

Feeling bolder, I reached up with both hands and held both of her tits in my hands. I rubbed her nipples to attention and tugged on them as she responded. Not knowing what she liked, I kept my eyes on her face, and also on the nearby people. A couple emerged from the far side of the bar and I pulled Jen’s blouse together and withdrew my hands.

She calmly buttoned the lowest button and then told me she needed to use the restroom. I nodded and waited. I put even money on her disappearing. I had already gotten way, way more out of this than I had bargained for.

She returned a short time later. A man had taken a seat against the nearby wall. That definitely put a damper on any more flashing and groping. Or so I thought. Jen didn’t sit down but instead told me, “I think we should move over to the lounge.”

I stood up and followed her lead. I expected her to take a seat with her back to the bar, but instead she sat with her back to the wall and I took the chair at the table. I moved it to the side and sat opposite her, table not in the way. She sat forward on the bench seat and moved her legs to either side of my knee. I leaned over toward her, “I’ve never done anything remotely like this.”

She laughed a little. “It’s not like I am all that experienced. I always wonder, should I wear a bra, not wear a bra, do you wear panties, what color, that kind of thing.” She ...

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