Ch. 9: Dirty Dancing – Sunday p.m.

The music kept playing throughout the day as they went about their various tasks and bit by bit Tim was finding the grooves behind the rap lyrics and figuring out the time signatures for the hip hop numbers. Whenever their paths crossed, they’d stop to dance a number together. The way Janice was swaying and shaking usually made him want to throw her down and fuck her, but he managed to keep himself under control.

At least until after supper. It was a light meal of Greek salads with feta cheese. Janice served Sauvignon Blanc with the meal and their glasses were still a third full when they finished eating. Tim charged them to 3/4-full and carried them into the living room, where his wife’s iPhone with Jerome’s playlist was still connected to the Digital Audio/CD Player. He was more than half shooting in the dark as he scrolled through the music, but felt fairly confident as he saw a string of songs that included Rihanna and Missy Elliot. Tim hit Play and turned the speakers up.

Janice followed him into the living room and picked up their wine glasses from the audio cabinet, where Tim had set them down before playing DJ. She smiled as he turned to her and she handed him a glass. “You’re getting into it, huh?” They clinked glasses and sipped.

He swallowed his wine and answered, “Yeah, I think I’m getting closer. But I still need some more lessons.”

She expected him to dance with her again, so was surprised when he suddenly stepped back from her and took a seat on the sofa. “Show me how it’s done,” he said in a low voice, before crossing his legs and taking a sip from his glass.

A different smile came across her face and she began slowly swaying while taking another sip from her own glass. She shifted her grip and held the wine glass from its top as her hands began describing small circles at waist height. She had showered and changed into a summery shift before dinner and the light material floated and clung as her hips rotated and swiveled. She wore lightweight Tom’s and her feet slid lightly across the wood floor as she pirouetted in place.

‘Life is fucking good,’ Tim thought to himself as he took another sip of the delicious wine while watching this incredibly sexy woman dance for his entertainment.

The beat was picking up, so Janice tossed back half her wine before putting the glass down on the coffee table. ‘Fuck it,’ thought Jan, ‘Since when do party girls sip?’ She quickly regained the rhythm and soon her whole body was involved. The next song was even more energetic and Janice started to cover a bit more of the floor, with steps and slides and small hops. It struck Tim that he really should pay attention to the moves, but it was hard to concentrate on the trees when the whole forest moved like that.

What he did notice was that he’d liked it better when he could see more of Jan’s skin earlier in the shorts and halter top. He put his wine glass on the table and when she was facing him, pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the sofa.

One corner of her mouth twitched up humorously, but she didn’t miss the hint or drop a beat. She went into one of those sexy crouches he’d seen earlier, where her hips swung side to side like a pendulum pulling her down to the floor. But as her body was dropping down, her arms were up and her hands were gathering her dress up by her shoulders. The hem was technically going higher, but because she going into a squat, no more of her skin was being exposed.

At least not until she began grinding her way back up again. The shift had hung to a bit below her knees, so her shapely calves were quickly back in Tim’s view, followed by the knees and strong thighs he’d been enjoying all day. Things got more interesting when the hem finally made it up over her hips and exposed a thong. Janice’s hands kept working on pulling up the dress as she stood, so the scantily covered crotch was swiftly followed by her trim midriff and then her beautiful chest pillows. Tim had known she was braless under the shift, but always enjoyed seeing the twin beauties exposed. Then the dress was up and over her head and flying straight at him.

He caught the dress and made a big show of holding it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. He’d really just been playing around, but was struck by just how good it did smell, how much like Janice. The subtle scent of her body wash from the shower was there, as well as the musky jasmine of her perfume, but under and over all that was Janice herself. He nearly closed his eyes in rapture when he took a deeper, slower inhale, but managed to keep them open a slit, and gazed in wonder at the beauty before him.

Janice didn’t know what to make of Tim’s actions; the look on his face. At first he was just being his usual goofy self, but now he looked like he’d snorted coke off her dress and was ready to dive over the coffee table and ravish her. The look made her pussy drip.

Tim illegal bahis finally recovered and sat back again to enjoy the show. He still had a crooked smile and a glint in his eye and he held her dress balled up in his crotch. Janice really wanted to see that other look on his face again, but she knew she could get it back. She kept dancing.

For another two songs she moved and spun, ducked and rose, swiveled and twerked. She even gave her tits and ass more of a stripper shake than a nightclub shake and enjoyed the smile it brought to her husband’s face.

“My God,” he said. “If you move like that at the club I’m going to have to beat off the other guys with a stick.”

She gave him a fake pout. “You mean I can’t dance with anyone but you?” She continued to move hypnotically.

He laid her dress aside and picked up his wine glass. He took a long, deliberate drink as he watched her move. All along he’d said he expected that she’d be dancing with other people to get her fill; he knew he couldn’t keep up with her on the dance floor. But now that he was seeing how good she looked as she danced…

Janice stopped turning, but kept dancing while facing him. Her hands went to her thighs and slid over her silk-covered mound. “Of course, I’ll be wearing a bit more clothing,” she purred. Her hands glided up her tight abs and each cupped one of her heavy breasts. “And these won’t be out on display.” She lifted one tit high and flicked her tongue at the nipple. “At least, not as much on display.”

Tim groaned and took another sip of wine.

“So, will you be the only name on my dance card?” She said coquettishly.

“No,” he finally replied. A small flash of surprise crossed Jan’s face. She expected that he actually would let her dance with other guys once they were at the club, but didn’t think he’d say so right off the bat.

A smile finally crossed Tim’s face. “No,” he repeated. Then with a tone of detached logic, he continued. “The point of going to this particular club was to give you a chance to dance to this kind of music and to dance as much as you want. I knew I was going to actually have to rely on other guys asking you to dance if you were to have as much fun as I want you to have.”

“No jealousy?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

“If there is, I’ll try to keep it to no more than a twinge and to keep it in my belly.” She smiled. “But I might need that stick anyway, just to be sure I do get some of the spaces on your dance card,” he chuckled.

“Well,” she cooed. “We’d better work on your moves so you can earn those slots.” She crooked a finger at him in a ‘come here’ gesture.

Tim put down his glass, rose to his feet and stepped around the corner of the coffee table. Janice’s hand suddenly changed to a ‘stop’ signal, flat palm towards him. Then all the fingers except the pointer curled in. Her index finger remained pointing straight up and began shifting side to side; signaling ‘no, no, no’.

Tim stopped, confused, until he saw where her disapproving eyes were looking; straight at his crotch. Then he got it and smiled. “Fair’s, fair, eh?” he said. He’d also showered and changed before dinner, but just into a different pair of jeans and t-shirt. He’d already lost the shirt, but Janice apparently wanted an even more level playing field.

He began swaying his own hips slightly and slowly undid the buttons on his 501’s, all the while trying to remember scenes from Magic Mike. He turned his back toward her and thrust his butt out a bit as he began to work the jeans over his hips. He teased the waistband down and up a couple of times, then suddenly shucked the Levi’s in one fast move that exposed his ass and earned a huge gasp of surprise from Janice.

He bent over at the waist, ass pointing straight back at her, as he pushed the pants down to his ankles and stepped out of them. Then he straightened up, and with hips still swiveling, turned back to his wife.

She had stopped moving and was standing there frozen with eyes wide and her hands clamped over her mouth. Then she took them away and broke out laughing. “You bad, bad boy!”

Tim struck a pose in his own G-string thong. The pouch was well filled and showed signs of the excitement Janice’s dancing had created in the man. He did a slow pirouette as he stepped closer, giving her another look at his bare ass cheeks.

“I saw what you were putting on,” he finally said. “And I guess I just got inspired. So, am I ready for my dance lesson now?”

Ch. 10: Nothing Butt the Truth – Sunday p.m.

Janice cupped his black satin pouch and squeezed. “Valentine’s Day? Two years ago?”

“Three,” he answered with a half-embarrassed, half-impish smile.

“Why haven’t I seen them more often since then?” she asked. “Hell, if you’d asked me, I’d have said I thought you’d gotten rid of them.”

Tim shrugged. “I guess they’re really just not my style; to be honest.”

His wife let go of his cock and stepped back. “You’re illegal bahis siteleri wrong. Those are definitely your style.” She stepped back in and grabbed him again. “In fact, I think I want to see you walking around in nothing but this at least once a month.”

He cupped her mound in return and said, “As long as you’re dressed the same.”

“You mean you don’t want me to walk around naked anymore?”

Tim thought a moment, remembering how often Janice would stay naked for an hour or more after a shower or love making; just walking around the house free and comfortable.

“Trick question”, he said. “I go naked almost as much as you do. But you seem to be implying I should spend a whole day, or weekend, showing you my ass. That’s what I’m talking about when I say you should dress the same.”

“Umm,” she said, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Let me see that ass now.”

Tim spun around as directed.

“So nice,” she moaned.

He started flexing his butt cheeks and apropos of nothing, Janice said, “I would still win.”

Tim twisted and looked at her over his shoulder. “Still win what?”

She smiled wickedly and said, “Didn’t I ever tell you about that time your butt won me 125 dollars?”

He turned all the way around. “Excuse me?”

“There were six of us; we each put in $25, so my profit was $125.”

Tim just looked blank.

“Remember that ‘Barbie’ roommate of mine at the U?”


“Yeah, Chrissy. Well, Chrissy claimed that her boyfriend Greg had the cutest butt on campus. Of course I said Greg did have a cute butt, but you were number one. That led to a best butt contest between the sorority sisters.”

“Hmm,” pondered Tim. “Somehow I don’t remember taking part in a contest like that.”

“We decided to spice it up by making it secret. None of the nominees could know and whomever was nominating them had to supply evidence without the boy’s knowledge. So we had all of us making sighting reports — of course, everyone was sworn to honesty; you had to say if an ass looked good even if it wasn’t your guy.”

“So, you and your sorority sisters were checking out my and Greg’s and whoever else’s butts and filing reports with the sisterhood?”

Janice stepped up to him, reached around, and grabbed handfuls of ass cheek. “Exactly,” she said. “Unfortunately, since Greg was on the swim team and could easily be seen in a pair of Speedos by anyone, I’m afraid he was ahead on points in the preliminary viewing results.”

She suddenly let go of one of his ass cheeks, brought the hand to her mouth, and stuck the index finger in her mouth; apparently sucking on it. When it came out and went behind him again, her other hand pulled his ass cheek and the thong to the side. Her wet finger went between his cheeks and began exploring.

“Fortunately,” she continued, “the ‘closer proof’ had a higher multiplier.”

“Multiplier?” he mumbled; tightening his anus to help her find the right spot.

“Think of it like the difficulty factor in diving. ‘Closer proofs’ were worth more than ‘initial viewer reports’.”

“And what constituted, ‘closer proofs’?” he asked as he lifted one of her tits up to his mouth.

“There were two types,” she moaned as he flicked at a nipple. “A-types were also viewer reports, but of bare ass. And B-types were photos of those bare asses so the rest of us could judge for ourselves.”

Putting the pieces together was Tim’s specialty and he almost immediately came back with, “So, you shared nude photos of my butt with your sisters.” He thought a moment more. “And found ways for them to see my butt…uncovered…live?”

He’d been talking to her tit. She put a finger under his chin and brought his head up for a kiss. “I fell in lust with you for your hot butt. I fell in love with you for your sharp mind. I married you for both.”

“The photos?” he asked.

“Pulling the sheet aside while you slept in my bed; sneak shots around the corner of the shower,” answered his wife. “But the real winners were of you pumping into me in my room and during that spring camping trip we took.”

Another thoughtful pause by Tim. “You couldn’t have set up remote cameras to take those kinds of photos, could you?” He left the answer to her.

Janice smiled. “Of course not. That’s why they got so many points. There were not only B-type photos, but also A-type reports to go with them.”

“From the photographers,” Tim said.

“From the photographers,” Janice confirmed. “You remember I was in a ground floor room? Well, I’d let a sister know when we were slipping away for a nooner and then make sure the window blinds were open enough for a good view. And when we went on that Conservation Club camping trip, I just told a couple of sisters who were on the trip, but didn’t have a horse in the race, that the tent flaps would not be all the way closed.”

“And you ended up winning $125 because you let voyeurs take pictures of me fucking you?”

She canlı bahis siteleri clutched his pouch again; hard. “I won,” she said strongly, “because you fucked me better than Greg fucked Chrissy.” Then she laid another long, loving kiss on him. “I won because the girls could come so much better from watching your hot ass pumping into me than Greg’s into Chrissy.”

Her left hand let go of his package and moved up just below her mouth. She spit into it twice. The wet hand went back behind his ass and applied the saliva to his anus, giving the prodding finger of her right hand more lubrication. It slipped into his ass. His mouth opened in a gasp and she placed her mouth over it and began swapping spit.

She broke the sloppy kiss and said into his open mouth, “And this fine ass would still win that contest today.”

Ch. 11: Learning From the Past – Sunday p.m.

Suddenly Janice’s finger left him and her hands grabbed his cheeks hard. “But this fine ass won’t help you magically win any dance contests.”

‘Fuck a dance contest,’ Tim thought. ‘I want you to finger fuck my ass some more.’ This was not something they did very often and Tim had been surprised by how easily Janice had entered him and how good it had felt.

Instead, his wife was pushing him away and turning toward the hall. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said as she trotted away.

‘WTF?’ the stunned man thought. His cock was straining in his man-pouch and he kept seeing different images flashing across his mind’s eye: Janice’s finger up his ass, his cock up hers, a pussy sitting on his face, a cock burying itself in her throat.

Then Jan was back and ‘WTF?’ again. She was wearing a sports bra!

“I know, I know,” she said, interpreting the look on his face. “Sorry, babe, but I’m not an A-cup, and dancing, hard, with your tits out starts to feel more painful than sexy pretty quick.”

Again she clutched his pouch. “I am going to fuck your brains out, believe me. But right now I want to see if you can control yourself enough to dance. If you can’t now, how can I trust you to control yourself in the club if some guy asks me to dance?” She paused. “Or gets a little grabby during the dance?”

“Grabby?” he growled.

She squeezed his package tighter. “Grabby,” she said. “Think back to college, to when we went dancing at bars and clubs around the U. Most other guys I danced with were just fine, they were happy just to dance. But there’d always be some jerk, or drunk, who thought that me agreeing to dance meant I wanted more from him.”

Tim did remember. Remembered the jealous feelings when Janice accepted another man’s invitation to dance — wasn’t she there with him? But over time he’d come to realize it really was just all about dancing with her and if he didn’t like a song or needed a break, it didn’t mean she had to feel and do the same, and he’d gotten over the jealousy. He also remembered the guys who had put hands on her too freely. A number of times he’d been ready to jump up and kick some ass, but also quickly learned that Janice could take care of herself. Any guy who went too far found himself standing alone in the middle of the floor; usually with a sharp rebuke ringing in his ears.

In fact, he’d only had to intervene once in their two years of college dating. Janice hadn’t realized how drunk the frat boy was when he asked her to dance and then found out he was too drunk to recognize she wasn’t into his clumsy attempts to kiss and touch her. Tim had showed up at her side, already decided to just kick the guy in the nuts and get it over with, but Janice had turned to him all happy smiles instead of outrage. Saying how glad she was that he’d finally arrived at the club (he’d been there with her for two hours) and pseudo-introducing him to the frat boy. Then giving the sorry schmuck a quick peck on the cheek and thanking him for dancing with her while she was waiting for her boyfriend. The dummy was so confused that he was stuck between making a macho stand to claim the woman and a genteel release of one who got away. Fortunately, Janice had walked Tim off the dance floor so quickly that the decision was made for the loser.

“Ready to dance?” she asked the boy who had ended up marrying her.

“Ready,” he smiled.

For the next half hour they followed the music. Janice showed him some specific moves and steps, but mostly just guided him in feeling the underlying rhythms and moving with them. In watching her moves and echoing them.

Then, true to her word, she fucked his brains out.

Ch. 12: Caught in the Act — Wednesday

Janice also did a pretty good job of fucking Tim’s brains out on Monday and Tuesday, with some more dance lessons thrown in. She also kept trying to pry out more details about their upcoming anniversary weekend trip, but he managed to hold his tongue.

Wednesday night he was going to have to attend a dinner with some visiting important clients, so he’d taken a couple of afternoon hours off in exchange and went home early to relax and change. As he pulled into their driveway he saw Jerome’s lawnmower and tool wagon on the edge of the lawn, which looked freshly cut. But there was no sign of the young man.



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