She should have called the cops on me. I probably shouldn't have been where I was, and I certainly should not have been doing what I was doing. Maybe she didn't because she shouldn't have done what she did either.

There is a slightly twisted and convoluted story of how my very straight brother became the operations manager of a gay and lesbian bar. I'll spare you the details. Probably the biggest factor that allowed him to turn a failing business into a thriving one is that he hired me as assistant manager and part-time bar tender.

First off, I don't drink, or at least not that much. Second, I am straight as well, and none of the clientele found me appealing in any way, so they never tried to flirt to get free drinks. Finally, I am impeccably honest, and so neither the clientele nor the business ever got cheated. It worked out well for everyone.

One evening, one of the staff members noticed an odd puddle of water in the utility room where the beer kegs and boxed soft drink syrups are kept. As assistant manager, I was responsible for fixing the problem. I was surprised by what I found.

The actual problem was a leaking fitting in the plumbing for the restrooms. This wasn't readily apparent from the utility room. I found an almost hidden access door behind all the kegs that led into a hidden hallway. The hallway was barely wide enough to walk in, and it ran quite a distance from the utility room to the back side of the kitchen. All of the plumbing for the restrooms and kitchen were nicely exposed for easy repairs.

I was also startled to discover that anything that might be happening in the restrooms was equally exposed. All of the mirrors in the restrooms were actually one-way glass. The way the decor was done, there were mirrors everywhere in the building. That feature was carried into the restrooms to the point of even having mirrors in the stalls. A voyeur in that hall could watch anything that happened in the restrooms.

There were a couple of gentlemen in the men's room, and they apparently wished to become better acquainted with each other. I had no interest in watching them. There were a couple of women in the ladies' room, but they were only talking and fixing their makeup. I checked them out for a moment, but then moved on to figure out what tools I needed to fix the leaking pipe.

It looked like it had been dripping for a while, but I figured I could give it a nudge with a wrench to make it stop. I was already planning on going gentle, because breaking the pipe would have been a disaster.

I slipped back into the utility room, and out into the bar. Things weren't terribly busy serving drinks, so I unobtrusively went through the kitchen to the storage room there where the tools are kept. I grabbed a couple of wrenches and went back through the utility room to the hidden hallway again.

Luck was with me. I gave a gentle nudge on the fitting, and the leak stopped. At some point, I was probably going to have to do something more, but it was good enough for now.

Luck was really with me. As I stood up from fixing the pipe, I gave a quick glance into the ladies room. Two women were making out in one of the stalls, and having a good time. I chuckled to myself, and I almost turned to leave when I noticed they were doing more than just kissing!

My jaw dropped, and I nearly dropped the wrenches as I hungrily took in the details.

The taller woman was blonde, and she was wearing a tight red dress. The dress was made to be sleeveless on one side with a wide strap over the other shoulder. The hidden zipper on the sleeveless side was open nearly to her waist and the front was pulled open to reveal her perky C cup breasts.

The shorter woman had closely shaved dark hair. The shirt she was wearing almost looked like a men's dress shirt, and it was casually tucked into her jeans. I fervently wished that her shirt had been unbuttoned, because she looked to have at least D cup breasts.

The two women were fiercely kissing. The shorter woman was practically torturing the taller woman's exposed breast, pinching and twisting her nipple. Her other hand was tightly gripped into the other woman's long blonde hair. The blonde was teasing one hand round and round on the shorter woman’s scalp. Her other hand was stuffed inside the shorter woman's open jeans.

From the way their bodies were moving, they were both on the verge of cumming.

So was I, until I was rudely interrupted.

My wife thinks I have a problem. She might be right.

I am happily married, and both my wife and I are straight. Our sex life isn't 'plain', but it isn't exactly 'wild' either. We enjoy each other and we are happy with what we have.

There is only one little thing about my fantasies that my wife hates. There is something about watching two women fucking that just gets my motor running. I can talk about it without any issues. I enjoy watching two women make out, but it doesn't cause any problems. When making out becomes serious sex, I lose control.

On occasion, my wife and I will watch porn to spice up our sex. She insists on picking the show. She will make sure that there are no scenes of women fucking.

She knows that if we are making out, and a scene comes on with two women fucking, I will lose all interest in her as I masturbate furiously to the porn. She knows that if we are fucking when it happens, I will lose control and start fucking her hard until I cum. I lose all regard for her feelings or desires.

She thinks that's a problem. She might be right.

Standing in the utility hallway and watching those two women go at it, I don't even remember pulling my cock out. I certainly don't remember choosing to stroke just the base of my cock. I didn't have any lube, so I guess that made sense.

I wasn't even thinking about the mess I would make, or how I would clean it up. I was barely aware that I was masturbating, but I knew I would make myself finish at the same time as the women.

And then a quiet voice, not three feet away from me, said, "What the fuck!"

I don't think my cock has ever deflated as quickly as it did as I recognized the customer that had caught me. With the exception of that collapse, I was frozen in place.

I think her real name was Hanna, but she preferred to be called Hans. She was several inches shorter than me, but probably was only thirty or forty pounds lighter. There didn't look to be an ounce of fat on her though-- it was all muscle. The woman she normally hangs out with is shorter still, and is probably one of the prettiest women in the bar.

A slight smirk touched her lips, but I was still frozen in place, with my pants around my knees and my limp cock in my hand.

"You probably don't know," she said, "that one of the first jobs that I got when I started my own plumbing business was replacing the antique pipes in this building. I saw you walking this way with the wrenches and I thought there might be a problem. It looks like you have things well in hand."

Her eyes glanced at my crotch as she made her statement into a joke, and my eyes couldn't stop from looking down there and then back at her. Other than that, I was still frozen, unable to form words. Her eyes jumped to the mirror I was looking through.

"Those are new," she proclaimed. "I remember when some mirrors were broken, maybe two owners ago. That guy was a creep, and I'd bet that he put these in. We noticed that they didn't look right, and he said something about unbreakable or bulletproof or something. You know you guys will have to get rid of them now."

I was barely able to nod.

Her eyes jumped to look through the mirror, and her eyebrows shot up.

"I always knew those two were up to no good!" she said harshly, but quietly. "Their girlfriends are gonna kill them!"

My head slowly turned. My breath caught in my chest.

The blonde had her back to the wall of the stall, with one hand turned to grip the top of the wall and the other tucked inside the front of her dress.

She was pulling at her nipple much harder than the other woman had been.

The brunette was on her knees with her face buried between the blonde's legs. The red dress was pushed up over her hips. The blonde wasn't wearing panties and she had one leg thrown over the brunette's shoulder.

The brunette had a short, fat tongue, and she was brutally licking up and down the blonde's slit. She also was harshly stabbing two fingers from one hand into the blonde's pussy, and it looked like she was pumping the thumb of her other hand into the blonde's ass. The blonde couldn't seem to get enough.

I heard a gasp in the hall beside me. A small warm hand wrapped its fingers around the top of my achingly hard cock. I froze again.

"No!" she said in her quiet, fierce voice. Her eyes were burning with need as she commanded, "Finish!"

My cock started to drop, as my fears took hold.

Her eyes implored me as she quietly asked, "Finish, please?"

Her one hand still held the soft tip of my cock while the other reached up and gently turned my head back to the action in the restroom.

The blonde was starting to cum. The intensity of it must have been incredible. Her body tensed up and actually lifted her other leg off the ground. Clear juices started spraying out of her as the brunette continued to pump her fingers and thumb in and out.

The soft voice beside me moaned, "Yes!", and I felt her hand stroking with mine as my cock pulsed out its load. I didn't look away from the action in the mirror until the blonde collapsed and the brunette had to catch her.

My heart nearly stopped at the scene in front of me.

Hanna's shirt was gone, and she was kneeling on the floor in front of me. Her eyes were closed, and her body seemed to be trembling through the end of an orgasm. She was still milking my cock with one hand, pulling on it to make the drops land on her chest. Her other hand was spreading my cum all over her skin.

Most of it was on her left breast. Her smaller B cup breasts were too small for her stocky build, but her big nipples made up for it. Her left nipple was very erect and I would have been dying to suck on it if it weren't covered in my cum. Her right nipple didn't look nearly as happy. I would have loved to use my lips and teeth to change that.

She opened her eyes and looked up at me. Her hand slid across to tease the nipple that I was lusting.

With the most innocent of looks, she asked, "More?"

I swallowed, and finally found my voice. "More?"

She nodded, and then gave me a knowing look. "What are the ladies doing now?"

My head slowly turned back to the window, and I think I had a mental orgasm. There was no way that my body was prepared for the sight that I saw.

The blonde was sitting on the floor with her arms wrapped around the other woman's legs. Her red dress was still up around her hips, which is all that saved it from being ruined by her own juices that she was sitting in. Her hands were gripping the other woman's ass. She was hanging on for dear life.

The brunette was stark naked. She was bent forward across the stall with her big breasts hanging down. She had a tight grip on the blonde's hair, and she was cruelly thrusting her crotch against the blonde's face. I would have been worried for the blonde, but she was driving her long, straight tongue up into the brunette, and her eyes were on fire with lust as she stared up at the other woman.

I have never had a woman look at me like that, but if I ever do, I know it will all be over quickly. I'm pretty sure the brunette was on the same page with me.

A soft chuckle distracted me for a moment, but I couldn't look away from the scene in the mirror. I felt Hanna's mouth engulf my cock, and when she pulled away, I could feel her saliva dripping down to my hand. I took advantage of the lubrication and started stoking harder. She moaned and started licking and nipping at my balls.

The brunette in the mirror dropped her hips to change the angle of her thrusts. As she leaned back, her big breasts went from swinging wildly to bouncing up and down on her chest. She threw her head back and I think she cried out with a long wail of pleasure. We didn't hear a thing, and I realized that the walls were practically sound-proof.

Suddenly, she grabbed the blonde's head with both hands and pulled her tight against her pussy. A drop or two splashed down onto the red dress, but the way the blonde's throat was pulsing, she must have been swallowing a river. I could see the brunette’s body contracting with every pulse of her orgasm.

I felt my cock contract and a river of cum poured out of me. The small hand joined mine to direct the stream and milk more out of me. The hand pushed my hand down out of the way and they were replaced by her lips and tongue. She took me in deep and I could feel her throat working to swallow me whole.

The sensation became too much, and I had to turn from the mirror. I caught her close cropped hair with my fingers and I tried to pull her away. She eased up on the suction, but she kept my cock in her mouth until it finished.

She had one hand wrapped around the base of my cock, feeling for every pulse. Her other hand was spreading my cum all over her other breast. As she teased my juices into her nipple, it swelled to the size of the other, and she started to shake. Her breath caught, and I swear she gave herself an orgasm by teasing her nipple. She collapsed with her head against my hip when she was done.

I rather enjoyed standing there caressing her scalp, but I really needed to find a way to keep the awkwardness from destroying everything. She saved me.

She took a quick breath and then smiled up at me. "You're going to have to get rid of those before anyone else finds them. That's a huge lawsuit in the making."

Before I could answer, she added, "As long as we don't tell anyone, it could probably keep for a week or two."

"I should probably do it quicker than that," I suggested.

"Not too quickly," she said with a smile. She licked her lips and looked down at the glistening skin of her breasts. "Jenna loves when I smell like a man, but you'd be surprised how hard it is to get a gay guy to cum on your chest. I think I need to take advantage of you and the mirrors for a few weeks, don't you?"

I smiled at her suggestion. "And then what?" I asked. "You'll keep asking for a couple weeks more, and the bar can't afford the eventual lawsuit."

Her smile never left her face as she considered for a moment.

"My girlfriend thinks there's something wrong with me, but I don't care. I have no use for men at all, but the sight of a man stroking his cock makes me desperate to feel his cum on my skin. Most of the time, I have to settle for making Jens squirt and feeling her juices.

"I can go for weeks without even thinking about it, and then I see a guy stroking, and I can't think of anything else. If you'd let me, I would make myself cum from rubbing you into my nipples every day.

"In a couple of weeks, I'll tell Jens that it’s you, and she'll agree to let you swing by and watch the two of us make out. We'll take care of your kink, and you'll take care of mine!"

I was smiling as I shook my head in disbelief and helped her to her feet. She was smiling as she slipped her shirt back on, and she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before she slipped away.

My wife thinks I have a problem, and she may be right. I have a new problem to work on. I need to figure out how I can convince her that Hanna's arrangement would help the other thing, and not make it worse. There must be something that she wants bad enough to make a deal.