Jen got into the shower. Victor had just left, and Michael would be home soon. As the hot water ran through her hair and sprayed her body, she reflected on the last three months, and how her life had changed.
Jen shook her head in disbelief. She wasn't naïve. She knew some people swapped partners. She just never expected to be one of them. She and Michael were happy. Their sex life was satisfying, and they loved each other. She never thought they'd become one of those couples people whispered about.
She could imagine the hushed gossip at the country club. "You know Victor and Monique swing, don't you? Oh yes, they swap partners, it's true, ask anyone. Well, have you noticed how much time Mike and Jen are spending with Victor and Monique? Do you think ... maybe ... they're a foursome?"
God, the country club. She wished they'd never joined. And she wished she'd never met Victor.
She remembered that first time at the club, when Michael introduced her to Victor. The memory made her shivered, even with the hot water jetting over her body. She had never met anyone like him, older but broad shouldered and ruggedly handsome, a man's man with the grace and charm of a diplomat, and so charismatic, with an intensity and presence so great it felt like a physical thing.
Jen had never cheated on Michael, had never even considered it. But her attraction to Victor was immediate. After just a few minutes around him, her body tingled like never before, and her panties were wet. This had never happened to her before. No one had ever aroused her like this, so immensely, and so suddenly.
Yet, all would have been fine, if Michael would have stayed with her, not left her alone with Victor. But he was too interested in Monique. Jen couldn't refuse when Victor asked her to dance, not with Michael dancing with Monique.
Victor danced wonderfully. So wonderfully, in fact, that she didn't notice as he gradually pulled her closer to him as they moved across the dance floor. Soon, her body was pressed against his. That's when Jen felt his erection.
As a cheerleader in high school, Jen was around the football team all the time. At practices, the boys wore tight stretch pants, just like the ones they wore during games, but without the pads. The pants were so tight you could see the outline of the boys' penises.
Jen often snuck glances at the boys' crotches. Of course, she made sure no one ever caught her looking. It was harmless fun, and something she giggled about with the other cheerleaders.
For some boys, you couldn't see the outline of their penises. The cheerleaders giggled that those boys must have small ones. For other boys -- and this was usually the case with the black players -- you could see their penises clearly outlined in the tight stretch pants. She remembered one black player -- Clyde was his name -- his penis seemed to go halfway down his thigh. Her husband Michael was about normal size, compared to the guys she had been with. Well, maybe a little smaller. Sometimes she wondered, a little guiltily, if Michael wore the tight football pants, whether you'd be able to see the outline of his penis.
Jen remembered how it felt, pressed against Victor, his erection pressing against her stomach. He felt big, longer even than Clyde.
Victor wasn't crude; he didn't grind himself against her as they danced. But he didn't pull away either. As they danced and swayed, she felt his penis move and shift across her stomach, sometimes moving left and right, sometimes up and down. To her amazement, Victor got bigger and harder.
Jen felt light-headed and weak kneed, being in Victor's strong arms, in his commanding presence, and with his hard penis pressed against her. The good wife part of her prayed for Michael to save her, to pull her away from Victor and take her back to the safe confides of their home. But the rest of her? She didn't know what the rest of her wanted.
"Let's go into the parlor," Jen heard Victor say. "Less noise. We can talk."
Jen looked anxious and uncertain. "I should wait here for Michael. He'll be looking for me."
Victor smiled a large re-assuring smile. "Don't worry about that. Monique will keep him company." Victor put his arm around Jen and led her down the side of the ballroom and into the parlor. As he did, Jen looked around the dance floor for Michael, but didn't see him. Victor closed the door.
Victor stroked Jen's cheek. "You're lovely, so beautiful."
Jen flushed, delighted by Victor's compliment, but uncomfortable and embarrassed. "No I'm not," She said modestly, laughing nervously. "At least, not like Monique. She's so beautiful, like a model. She has such a nice figure. I'm so flat-chested compared to her." Jen laughed nervously, trying to make it sound like a joke, but she felt like an idiot for rambling on.
Victor smiled confidently, and he touched Jen's chin. Jen froze and held her breath as Victor ran the tip of his finger along her neck and down her chest.
"You shouldn't ..." Jen said as Victor's finger neared her breasts, her heart pounding in her chest.
"... please ..." Jen whined as Victor's finger traced a circle around her breast.
"... I'm married ..." Jen begged, a moan escaping her lips as Victor cupped and fondled her breast.
Victor raised an eyebrow, looking amused. He pulled his hand away.
"It's true," he said casually, his tone and expression showing no signs of his having just fondled her, "Monique's breasts are large and wonderful. But I tell you -- and I dare say most men would agree -- shapeliness is just as important as size. And your breasts feel perfect to me. I'd love to see them someday."
Jen blushed again, her heart pounding even harder. "Well, that's never going to happen," she said, laughing nervously. "I better go ... Michael's waiting for me."
"But, for me," Victor continued as if Jen hadn't spoken, "I most admire a woman's legs. Long slim legs, toned and shapely. Just like yours."
Victor looked into Jen's eyes. "Would it be too forward of me to say I'd love to see more of your wonderful legs? Why don't you raise your dress for me?"
"No, I don't think so," Jen said, putting as much indignation into her voice as she could. She couldn't believe the nerve of this man. Too forward of him? He had just groped her, and he's worried about being too forward? She was married, how dare he?
Yet, why couldn't she bring herself to run away? He was so confident, so sure of himself. She had never met anyone like him. So powerful, so ... commanding.
Victor didn't say anything more, but his eyes never left Jen's. Jen felt herself wilting under his intense gaze. Flustered, she broke eye contact and looked away. Yet, she still felt Victor's eyes boring into her, silently commanding her to obey his demands.
It was like an out of body experience, with Jen far above, watching herself. She watched as she reached down and, with shaky hands, clutched the material of her skirt, and slowly raised it.
"Very nice," Victor admired as Jen raised her dress above her knees, and then past mid-thigh. "Your legs are even shapelier than I imagined. Don't stop, keep going."
Jen flushed red, feeling a mixture of arousal and humiliation. How could she be doing this, ******** herself to this near stranger while her husband waited just in the next room? Why was she obeying this man? Why wasn't she running away?
"Keep going," Victor commanded. "Higher. That's it, keep going."
Jen tensed as Victor reached out and cupped her pussy. "Well, isn't that a surprise," Victor said, amused. "You're soaking."
Jen's cheeks reddened even more; she had never felt so humiliated. She almost jumped when Victor ran a finger between her pussy lips, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing her body.
Victor chuckled. "I think this is what they call a camel toe," he said, and then rubbed Jen's clit through her panties and pantyhose.
"Ohhh goddd," Jen whimpered as she tried, without success, to stifle a moan. She was so aroused, she was going to cum in just a few seconds if Victor kept fingering her. She knew she should pull away, push down her dress and run away, but she felt unable to move, frozen in place by Victor's charismatic and commanding presence.
"Your legs really are wonderful," Victor said almost casually as he continued to finger Jen. "But wear shorter skirts, and higher heels. They'll look even better."
Jen clutched Victor's arm and gritted her teeth. He was going to make her cum, it would only take another second ...
Victor abruptly pulled his hand away and Jen gasped in frustration, whimpering at her unfulfilled orgasm.
Victor saw the longing in Jen's face and smiled. He flicked his hand dismissively. "You can go back to your husband now," he said, a look of amusement on his face.
Jen shook her head in disbelief. She wasn't naïve. She knew some people swapped partners. She just never expected to be one of them. She and Michael were happy. Their sex life was satisfying, and they loved each other. She never thought they'd become one of those couples people whispered about.
She could imagine the hushed gossip at the country club. "You know Victor and Monique swing, don't you? Oh yes, they swap partners, it's true, ask anyone. Well, have you noticed how much time Mike and Jen are spending with Victor and Monique? Do you think ... maybe ... they're a foursome?"
God, the country club. She wished they'd never joined. And she wished she'd never met Victor.
She remembered that first time at the club, when Michael introduced her to Victor. The memory made her shivered, even with the hot water jetting over her body. She had never met anyone like him, older but broad shouldered and ruggedly handsome, a man's man with the grace and charm of a diplomat, and so charismatic, with an intensity and presence so great it felt like a physical thing.
Jen had never cheated on Michael, had never even considered it. But her attraction to Victor was immediate. After just a few minutes around him, her body tingled like never before, and her panties were wet. This had never happened to her before. No one had ever aroused her like this, so immensely, and so suddenly.
Yet, all would have been fine, if Michael would have stayed with her, not left her alone with Victor. But he was too interested in Monique. Jen couldn't refuse when Victor asked her to dance, not with Michael dancing with Monique.
Victor danced wonderfully. So wonderfully, in fact, that she didn't notice as he gradually pulled her closer to him as they moved across the dance floor. Soon, her body was pressed against his. That's when Jen felt his erection.
As a cheerleader in high school, Jen was around the football team all the time. At practices, the boys wore tight stretch pants, just like the ones they wore during games, but without the pads. The pants were so tight you could see the outline of the boys' penises.
Jen often snuck glances at the boys' crotches. Of course, she made sure no one ever caught her looking. It was harmless fun, and something she giggled about with the other cheerleaders.
For some boys, you couldn't see the outline of their penises. The cheerleaders giggled that those boys must have small ones. For other boys -- and this was usually the case with the black players -- you could see their penises clearly outlined in the tight stretch pants. She remembered one black player -- Clyde was his name -- his penis seemed to go halfway down his thigh. Her husband Michael was about normal size, compared to the guys she had been with. Well, maybe a little smaller. Sometimes she wondered, a little guiltily, if Michael wore the tight football pants, whether you'd be able to see the outline of his penis.
Jen remembered how it felt, pressed against Victor, his erection pressing against her stomach. He felt big, longer even than Clyde.
Victor wasn't crude; he didn't grind himself against her as they danced. But he didn't pull away either. As they danced and swayed, she felt his penis move and shift across her stomach, sometimes moving left and right, sometimes up and down. To her amazement, Victor got bigger and harder.
Jen felt light-headed and weak kneed, being in Victor's strong arms, in his commanding presence, and with his hard penis pressed against her. The good wife part of her prayed for Michael to save her, to pull her away from Victor and take her back to the safe confides of their home. But the rest of her? She didn't know what the rest of her wanted.
"Let's go into the parlor," Jen heard Victor say. "Less noise. We can talk."
Jen looked anxious and uncertain. "I should wait here for Michael. He'll be looking for me."
Victor smiled a large re-assuring smile. "Don't worry about that. Monique will keep him company." Victor put his arm around Jen and led her down the side of the ballroom and into the parlor. As he did, Jen looked around the dance floor for Michael, but didn't see him. Victor closed the door.
Victor stroked Jen's cheek. "You're lovely, so beautiful."
Jen flushed, delighted by Victor's compliment, but uncomfortable and embarrassed. "No I'm not," She said modestly, laughing nervously. "At least, not like Monique. She's so beautiful, like a model. She has such a nice figure. I'm so flat-chested compared to her." Jen laughed nervously, trying to make it sound like a joke, but she felt like an idiot for rambling on.
Victor smiled confidently, and he touched Jen's chin. Jen froze and held her breath as Victor ran the tip of his finger along her neck and down her chest.
"You shouldn't ..." Jen said as Victor's finger neared her breasts, her heart pounding in her chest.
"... please ..." Jen whined as Victor's finger traced a circle around her breast.
"... I'm married ..." Jen begged, a moan escaping her lips as Victor cupped and fondled her breast.
Victor raised an eyebrow, looking amused. He pulled his hand away.
"It's true," he said casually, his tone and expression showing no signs of his having just fondled her, "Monique's breasts are large and wonderful. But I tell you -- and I dare say most men would agree -- shapeliness is just as important as size. And your breasts feel perfect to me. I'd love to see them someday."
Jen blushed again, her heart pounding even harder. "Well, that's never going to happen," she said, laughing nervously. "I better go ... Michael's waiting for me."
"But, for me," Victor continued as if Jen hadn't spoken, "I most admire a woman's legs. Long slim legs, toned and shapely. Just like yours."
Victor looked into Jen's eyes. "Would it be too forward of me to say I'd love to see more of your wonderful legs? Why don't you raise your dress for me?"
"No, I don't think so," Jen said, putting as much indignation into her voice as she could. She couldn't believe the nerve of this man. Too forward of him? He had just groped her, and he's worried about being too forward? She was married, how dare he?
Yet, why couldn't she bring herself to run away? He was so confident, so sure of himself. She had never met anyone like him. So powerful, so ... commanding.
Victor didn't say anything more, but his eyes never left Jen's. Jen felt herself wilting under his intense gaze. Flustered, she broke eye contact and looked away. Yet, she still felt Victor's eyes boring into her, silently commanding her to obey his demands.
It was like an out of body experience, with Jen far above, watching herself. She watched as she reached down and, with shaky hands, clutched the material of her skirt, and slowly raised it.
"Very nice," Victor admired as Jen raised her dress above her knees, and then past mid-thigh. "Your legs are even shapelier than I imagined. Don't stop, keep going."
Jen flushed red, feeling a mixture of arousal and humiliation. How could she be doing this, ******** herself to this near stranger while her husband waited just in the next room? Why was she obeying this man? Why wasn't she running away?
"Keep going," Victor commanded. "Higher. That's it, keep going."
Jen tensed as Victor reached out and cupped her pussy. "Well, isn't that a surprise," Victor said, amused. "You're soaking."
Jen's cheeks reddened even more; she had never felt so humiliated. She almost jumped when Victor ran a finger between her pussy lips, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing her body.
Victor chuckled. "I think this is what they call a camel toe," he said, and then rubbed Jen's clit through her panties and pantyhose.
"Ohhh goddd," Jen whimpered as she tried, without success, to stifle a moan. She was so aroused, she was going to cum in just a few seconds if Victor kept fingering her. She knew she should pull away, push down her dress and run away, but she felt unable to move, frozen in place by Victor's charismatic and commanding presence.
"Your legs really are wonderful," Victor said almost casually as he continued to finger Jen. "But wear shorter skirts, and higher heels. They'll look even better."
Jen clutched Victor's arm and gritted her teeth. He was going to make her cum, it would only take another second ...
Victor abruptly pulled his hand away and Jen gasped in frustration, whimpering at her unfulfilled orgasm.
Victor saw the longing in Jen's face and smiled. He flicked his hand dismissively. "You can go back to your husband now," he said, a look of amusement on his face.
