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The Dance Lesson Ch. 01

By: swigby



My wife and I met a man a couple of years ago at a popular vacation resort in Italy. Over drinks one evening, we discovered that we shared a hobby - watching our wives with other men. He told me the following story, which I relate here more or less as he told it to us.

My wife Anne and I had been married for more than 10 years before I saw her having sex with another guy. It had always been a fantasy of mine but I'd never talked to her about it and definitely never thought it would actually happen someday.

But that day came one summer. We were spending our vacation at a club-style resort like this one, where they offer all kinds of activities, from aerobics to sailing and tennis. My wife was keen on their Latin dance classes. That was one of the reasons we chose that club. Anne loves to dance and I'm not very good at it, so it was a chance for her to have some fun. I also didn't mind being alone for a little while, just going for a walk or reading quietly. We were both happy with the arrangement.

She took her first lesson on our first day at the resort. We were lying in lounge chairs next to the main pool, enjoying the sun and an early cocktail. My wife was wearing a black one-piece bathing suit. She says black makes her look slimmer. She has nice big boobs and a pretty slim waist, but she thinks her hips are a bit too broad. I've always praised her full figure and told her that lots of guys like that. She definitely attracts lots of looks. But she's in her early forties and thinks those days are over. I just couldn't convince her that she was still pretty hot. 

Anyway, we were at the pool and then this Latin music started to play really loud. Everyone looked up and the dance teacher started calling for people to come over and join up. The teacher was a young woman, slim and dark. Not at all like my wife. Like I said, she's what you'd call "built", and she's blonde with pretty light skin. Maybe a dozen people went up, including Anne. She pulled a sheer black beach wrap around her hips and went up. The wrap was pretty sexy ... I could see her legs through the material, and the bottom of the bathing suit was riding up a little on her bum, so one cheek was kind of bulging out a bit. Her boobs, as always, were a prominent feature. They jiggled a little bit as she went over to the dance floor. I notice a couple of other guys watching her go by and I started to get a bit of a hard-on.

The teacher turned down the music and asked everyone to crowd around her. She started the lesson, and the people at the pool turned away and went back to whatever they'd been doing before. The teacher started showing them some basic steps. She was pretty. She also had a wrap around her waist but it was a long one and not see-through. Every once in a while a long slim leg would slide out of the wrap. 

Still, she wasn't really my type. A bit too skinny. So after a while I went back to my book. My erection was long gone. I looked up from time to time to see how it was going. My wife was definitely having a good time, smiling and laughing as the teacher struggled to get this bunch of gringo tourists to get into the rhythm. 

After maybe half an hour, they lined up in pairs and started to practice their newly-learned steps. They would switch partners every couple of minutes. My wife was sometimes dancing with another woman, sometimes with a guy, and once with the teacher. The guys were all ordinary looking, middle-aged like me. The women were the same. I was glad my wife was having a good time. I'd forgotten all about my excitement earlier.

That evening over dinner, I asked her about the lessons. "It was so much fun," she said, beaming. "I haven't danced in so long ... thanks to a certain somebody," she said, smiling at me. "You really ought to join me. It'd be fun."

"Come on, Anne," I said. "You know me. I couldn't dance if my life depended on it. At least this way you can have a little fun while your dull hubby reads his books."

"Who said you were dull, Tom?" she said, laughing. "It would be nice if you liked to dance, but I like you the way you are." She sipped her wine and smiled warmly at me. 

"You know, Latin music is pretty sexy," she said. "That rhythm, the way you move your body together with your partner. Maybe you should try it. You could sweep me off my feet." She sipped her wine and fixed me with a long look. "We could have some fun." She stretched one leg under the table and rubbed her bare foot against the inside of my leg. 

I may be a bookworm, but even I got the message. Smiling at each other, we got up and, hand in hand, hurried back to our bungalow. After a day in the sun, the beginning of our vacation, a few drinks and a good meal, we were relaxed and hungry to make love. As we fell onto the bed, I thought back to the looks my wife got when she walked over to her dance lesson. 

"You looked like a million bucks this afternoon when you went to dance," I told her. "That see-through wrap was super sexy." I started to tug her T-shirt up over her head.

"You're just horny," she said with a smile. She was trying to get my pants unbuckled. "I always look good for you when you're horny."

"I wasn't the only one looking," I said. The T-shirt came off. She was wearing a sheer white bra and her nipples were visible. They were also thick and erect. I squeezed one breast, enjoying the weight.

"Right," she laughed dismissively. "Now come on and get your clothes off."

I stood up and pulled off my trousers and boxers. Anne slid her skirt down and lay back in bra and panties, with her hands behind her head, smiling seductively. She looked spectacular. My cock stood out straight like an iron rod. I couldn't figure out why she didn't think she was sexy.

"I'm serious, Anne," I said. "You've got a great body. There were a few guys who enjoyed the view this afternoon." I could see that she liked what I was saying, so I went on. "They were probably imagining exactly what I'm looking at right now. An incredibly sexy woman, stretched out on the bed in bra and panties, ready to make love to them."

Anne looked at me for a moment. "You like that, don't you?" she said.

"Like what?" I asked.

"The idea that other guys would see me like this." 

I knelt down on the bed and unfastened the front of her bra. Her large breasts bobbled out. I squeezed them together and jiggled them lightly. Her nipples were sticking up straight.

"I'd love it," I said. Anne looked down at my cock. It was throbbing by this time. "I mean, theoretically of course." We both laughed. "Actually, what I'd really love ... still speaking purely theoretically ... is not just that they would see you like this, but that they would do what I'm about to do."

I slid her panties slowly down over her thighs. "Look at this, gentlemen," I said to my imaginary audience. I stroked the outside of her hips and reached down to squeeze her rump. "Exquisite, isn't she?"

"Like a side of beef," Anne said. She gave me a scolding look, but I could tell she was having fun. 

"Like a goddess of love," I said in a deep baritone. She rolled her eyes and laughed again. I pulled the panties free and lay down beside her. 

"So, what are you ... I mean, what are they going to do to me now?" She was playing along, with a smile on her face. But there was a bit of color in her cheeks, too. Maybe the idea turns her on too, I thought.

"First, they're going to worship your breasts," I said. I bent down and took a hard nipple in my mouth. Anne gasped and shivered.

I looked up and saw that her eyes were closed. She lifted her other breast. "This one, too," she whispered. I kissed her other breast, flicking my tongue against the rubbery nipple. 

"What else are they going to do?" she asked quietly. Her eyes were still closed.

"They're going to caress your thighs, like this," I said, lightly running my finger tips along the inside of one leg. "You have to imagine four, or maybe six hands on you." My throat was starting to get dry.

"What do they look like?" she asked. She was definitely getting into it.

"One is dark, Italian. Broad shoulders, hairy chest. The other is ... Germanic. Blond, blue eyes, strong chin." It was the best I could come up with on short notice, but it seemed to do the trick. My fingers reached her pussy. I stroked her mound lightly and she pushed up against my hand. I parted her lips with two fingers. She was very wet. 

"What are their names?" Her breathing was starting to speed up. Her eyes were still closed. 

I reached down and stroked myself once or twice. This was as hot as we'd had it for a long time. Names, names .... "Marcello," I said, thinking of Marcello Mastroianni, the film actor. "And ..." I needed a German name. Adolph? Hermann? I could only think of famous Nazis. Probably not a good idea .. although you never know. Then I remembered a good-looking German actor from an old movie, something about the Nurnberg trials after the war. "Maximilian," I said.

Anne smiled. "Hmmm, Maximilian. I like the way you're touching me." Encouraged, I moved up so that my rigid cock was just inches from her mouth. I continued to gently massage her clitoris. Her hips were moving in a slow rhythm with my fingers.

"Is this what you meant by being in rhythm on the dance floor?" I asked her.

"Mmm hmm," she said, nodding her head slightly. She was definitely flushed in the face. She opened her mouth slightly and licked her lips. 

"Maximilian wants a special dance," I said, reaching down and bending my cock towards her mouth. I was so stiff I had to lean forward. She turned her face towards me, eyes still closed, lips still parted. I brushed the head of my erection over one cheek. She turned to my cock, open her mouth further and lifted her head to take me in. Warm and wet. 

My wife hadn't done anything like this since the early days of our marriage. She began to move up and down over my shaft, pressing her tongue against the underside of my cock. It was like an electric shock. My heart was about to burst out of my chest. I moved my fingers faster over her swollen clitoris. She moved her hips in time. Her large breasts wobbled back and forth. Her face was flushed and her nipples pointed up to the ceiling.

"You're husband is a lucky man," I gasped. "And generous. Great of him to share you with us." I was getting very close to coming. Anne just moved her mouth faster over my raging hard-on. 

"You like being fucked by two strangers, don't you?" I said. "What would your husband think if he could see this?" That seemed to take her over the top. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and began to moan, thrusting her hips up hard against my fingers. I'd been trying to hold back, squeezing my muscles as tightly as I could, but when my wife's orgasm broke over her, I couldn't resist any longer. I let go.

I felt an explosive spurt of sperm from my cock into my wife's throat. She swallowed quickly and moaned. She took my cock deeper into her mouth. I couldn't believe it. I convulsed a second time and released another long jet of cum. She was swallowing it all. I shot another three or four times into her warm, willing mouth before falling back, exhausted. 

It took me a few minutes to recover. I looked over at my wife. She smiled at me. "Maximilian," she said softly. "You're a great dancer. My husband would be very jealous." She raised her eyebrows. "Wouldn't he?"

I smiled back at her. "He certainly would." Anne snuggled up to me and I put my arms around her. Yes, her husband would be jealous, I thought. But he would also love to have this come true. Judging by the way she reacted to our little role-playing, I decided our vacation was the perfect, and probably only, opportunity I would have to realize my fantasies.

As my wife fell asleep, I began to make plans for sharing my wife with a real-life Maximilian. I was pretty sure I could use the dance lessons to organize something. Eventually, I fell asleep as well, dreaming of Samba rhythms and other men's hands on my wife's heavy breasts. 

To be continued ... 

The Dance Lesson Ch. 02



Things moved pretty fast once I realized that my wife was also turned on by the idea of making love to another man. In fact, the opportunity arose within a couple of days, thanks to the Latin dance lessons she was taking at our vacation resort.

Like I said before, Anne normally dressed in a pretty low-key way, designed to basically hide her large breasts and round bum. She wasn't fat, and had a nice firm waist, but her boobs definitely made her self-conscious. I kept telling her that a lot of guys found her type very sexy, but she always rejected those comments as "something a husband has to say," especially now that she was over forty.

Things started to change during our vacation. Maybe it was the sun, or being away from the kids for the first time in ages, or the daily dance classes. Whatever it was, when I pointed out to her how many other guys had been watching her when she went up to the dance area beside the pool on that first day, she started to regain a bit of confidence.

In fact, the next day she went to the club store and bought herself a new bathing suit. It was still a black one-piece, but with the leg cut a lot higher, the top cut a lot lower, and the whole thing clinging to her a lot tighter. Wearing sandals with a little heel, she modeled it for me in our bungalow.

"Well, can I get away with this?" she asked, standing in front of the bathroom mirror and running her hands down her hips. It was like she was trying to press them in.

"Are you kidding me?" I said. I had a serious hard-on imagining my wife walking past the pool like this in a few minutes. "You just wait and see what happens. If half a dozen guys at the pool aren't howling like dogs when you go to the dance lesson today, then ... tomorrow I'll take you into the city and we'll spend the whole day buying you shoes."

Anne laughed. "I hope for your sake you're right," she said. Then she walked towards the door. Her boobs and bum wobbled delightfully with every step, and the heels accentuated the curves of her legs . She stopped to tie on her sheer black beach wrap, and then we headed to the pool.

As expected, I noticed three or four guys right away giving Anne the once-over. She was definitely enjoying the attention. She went into the pool a couple of times, and whenever she came out, that tight black bathing suit just clung to her curves. Her nipples really poked out. Her skin glistened in the sunlight. I had an erection most of the afternoon.

Then at five, the Latin music started and off she went to her lesson. She got plenty of appreciative stares and I had the feeling she put a little extra strut into her step to give them a show. Anyway, she looked pretty hot.

I had the feeling there were more men in the class than the day before. I was proved right when they all paired up to practice the steps they'd learned. Like the day before, they just rotated through the group, but because they had more men today, Anne always had a male partner. That was good news as far as I was concerned. Since Anne had told me how turned on she got from this kind of dancing, I was hoping that one of her partners would soon be one of her lovers.

Most of the guys she danced with were pretty clumsy. They all had a good laugh every time they messed up and the mood was pretty light. Two guys in the group in particular would steal a glance at my wife when she was with someone else -- her shuddering tits were really eye-catching in that new suit. One guy was about my age, mid-forties, a little paunchy but a nice smile. Anne always seemed to be laughing when she was dancing with him. The other guy was quite a bit younger. I admit it's a bit of a stereotype, but he looked Latin himself and I had the feeling he was attracted to my wife's blonde hair and pink skin. Her big boobs didn't hurt either, I figured. He was way more serious about it all. My wife seemed to enjoy his attention as well, but I had the feeling she was having a better time with the other guy.

Anyway, after the dance lesson, my wife went for a quick swim. I had left the poolside and was in the bar, watching. When she came out of the water, I was once again amazed at how great she looked. The vacation and her new-found confidence were working wonders. I hadn't seen her look so sexy in years. Her boobs and bum jiggled as she rubbed her hair with her towel. When she stood in profile, her large nipples stood out prominently. 

The guy who made her laugh came up to her and they struck up a conversation. It wasn't long before she was giggling. Then he whispered something in her ear and she looked like she blushed. Bingo, I thought. I headed out of the bar and back to our bungalow.

About 20 minutes later Anne came into out room. I was lying on the bed reading. "Where did you go?" she asked, half scolding. "I looked for you after my lesson but you weren't anywhere. Why didn't you wait for me?" She headed into the bathroom.

I closed my book and sat up. "I was bored, and it was hot, so I thought I'd come back here and relax with a book," I said. "How was the lesson?"

"It was great," she said. I walked to the bathroom door. She was naked, hanging up her bathing suit on a towel rack. She turned to the mirror and started brushing her hair. With her arms raised, her breasts looked fantastic. "It is so much fun," she said. "Some of the guys can't dance very well and then I have to work hard not to lead them. But when they suddenly get the rhythm, it's really cool."

She picked a pair of white panties from the rack and slipped them on. The rest of her clothes were hanging on the rack - a white bra, loose white blouse and matching skirt. "Actually, cool's the wrong word," she said. "It's kind of hot. Something suddenly clicks, and then the two of you are moving together in perfect rhythm." She swung her hips back and forth, and gave me a look in the mirror. "It's a great feeling. Sexy."

She took her bra, but I reached out and held her hand back. "Don't," I said. "Go without tonight." My shorts were bulging with my hard-on. 

She looked at me sharply. "Are you serious?" she asked. 

"Why not?" I said. "You look fantastic and I'm proud of you. Besides, with that loose blouse, no one will be able to see anything. It'll just be a turn-on knowing that you're going braless."

She smiled and shook her head. "You're just horny. These boobs aren't what they used to be," she said, lifting them up in both hands. She pouted. "I need a bra."

"You've got great boobs," I said. "You saw how the guys were looking at you today at the pool. There's no need to hide." I stepped up to her and lifted her breasts in my hands. They were heavy but still firm. "Maybe some of your dance partners will be at the restaurant tonight," I said. "Let's give them something to think about."

I ran my thumbs over her nipples. She shivered and giggled, pushing me away. "Not a chance," she said, and turned away, grabbing her clothes and moving into the bedroom to finish getting dressed. Disappointed, I turned to the mirror. You're getting old, losing your hair, I thought. Losing your marbles, too, if you think you're going to get your wife into the sack with someone else. I brushed my teeth, combed what hair I had left, and went into the bedroom.

"Let's go," Anne said. "I'm starved." She was just closing the last button on her blouse.

"OK, let's compromise," I said. "Keep the bra, but put on something a little more flattering. That T-shirt you bought last week." I lifted my eyebrows a couple of times. I went to the dresser and started rummaging around in her tops. "This one," I said, holding it up for her. "Please?" I batted my eyelids.

"Jeez, Tom, you're acting like a twelve-year-old," she said, then giggled. "Alright, but just for tonight, and just because I feel sorry for you."

I rubbed my hands together and started to slobber like a rabid fox. She giggled as she took off her blouse and pulled on the T-shirt. It was nice and snug, just as I remembered it. The material held her boobs up nicely and clung to her tummy as well. She glanced in the mirror. "You look great and you know it," I said. 

She smiled. "Let's go eat," she said. We headed out the door and down the main walkway to the club's largest restaurant. We hadn't gone halfway to the restaurant before a guy eyed my wife's chest. The T-shirt was so tight that her boobs couldn't move much. Still, you couldn't help but notice them and that they were the real McCoy. Her round bum was bouncing nicely underneath her skirt as she put a little wiggle into her step. I could see her panties clearly beneath the light material.

"Jesus, Anne, you look incredible," I stammered. We were approaching the entrance to the restaurant and there were a lot of people milling around. Her chest was attracting plenty of looks. "You've never believed me when I said you were still a bombshell," I said as we entered the restaurant. "You have to admit the attention you're getting tonight proves I'm right, doesn't it?"

Anne was looking around for a table. She stopped, smiled and waved. I looked over and saw her dance partner, the comedian, waving us over. "Let's go sit with Jack," she said. "You'll like him. He's funny."

I followed Anne to the table. She introduced us. "Jack, this is my husband Tom." I smiled and we shook hands.

"So you're the lucky guy," Jack said, grinning. "I don't know how you managed it. You look like an average Joe to me. I guess you've got something special." Then, believe it or not, he winked at me. He turned to my wife, smiling broadly.

I glanced at Anne and raised my eyebrows. This guy makes you laugh? He's a bit of an asshole, I thought. Anne looked slightly embarrassed, but we sat down and ordered drinks. Jack cracked a few more jokes, some of them funny, some not. We got slightly bombed and enjoyed the seafood. Despite his sometimes crude and unsophisticated sense of humor, he lavished attention on my wife and she seemed to really enjoy it. I wondered whether I'd been paying too much attention to my books, and whether women could really be so easily flattered.

After dinner we headed to a bar and disco near the beach. The sun had set. Below a deep blue sky there was a thin line of pink and orange on the horizon. After a few minutes, a samba started up. I turned to Jack. "So, why don't you guys show me what you've been learning?" 

Jack smiled. "It would be a pleasure," he said. He turned to my wife and extended his hand. "Shall we?" She smiled and stood up. As she did, her T-shirt pressed even more tightly against her breasts for just a moment. Her nipples jutted out slightly. My cock stirred. I saw that Jack had also noticed her nipples.

The disco was only half full, so I had a clear view of the dance floor. They were pretty hesitant at first, and Jack was having a hard time. But after a few minutes he seemed to get the hang of one or two basic steps that he was able to repeat. They started to loosen up. She and Jack would come together for a step or two, chest to chest, and I imagined Jack feeling my wife's full breasts against him. He also had one hand at her side, where he would definitely be able to feel the side of one breast.

After a couple of dances, they returned to the table. We ordered more drinks. "I'm beat," Jack said, wiping beads of sweat from his head. "Your turn, Tom. Show me how it's done."

I smiled. "I'm a really lousy dancer, Jack. I'm depending on you to keep my wife happy." I glanced at Anne. She gave me a cross look, then smiled. "Anyway, I prefer to watch," I said, and winked at him. Anne rolled her eyes.

Jack looked surprised but barely missed a beat. "Well, I'll do what I can for you, Tom. Give it the old school try, as they say."

He excused himself for a minute and left the table. Anne looked at me and shook her head. "You're turning into a dirty old man, Tom," she said.

I leaned over and spoke quietly. "I feel sorry for that guy, Anne. He can't keep his eyes off of you. Why don't you give him something to look at?"

"Now what?" she said, with fake exasperation. I could smell booze on her breath.

"Go take your bra off." I blurted it out, choking slightly. Was I going too far? "Show him what you've got. You only live once."

She looked at me sideways, as though checking whether I was serious. I didn't say anything. "What's gotten into you?" She was half smiling. 

I cleared my throat. "Well, first of all, this is a great place, it's a great evening, and I'm feeling incredibly lucky to be spending it with such a beautiful and sexy woman," I said. I gave her my best smile. I really was feeling like a million bucks and she could see it. "Second, it's an incredible turn-on for me to see other guys appreciating your charms. Last but not least, I think you're enjoying it a little bit yourself, aren't you?"

She smiled and looked down. She was a bit embarrassed. "Every woman likes to turn heads," she said. "This is the first time I can remember that men have paid me this kind of attention." She looked away for a moment, then back at me. "Sure. It feels good."


I leaned over again and kissed her neck. "Well then, come on, sexy," I whispered, "lose that bra. And why not take off your panties while your at it. Quickly, before Jack gets back."

She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. She gave me a wicked smile. "You're living dangerously, buster." Then she headed to the ladies room. My cock was throbbing by now. 

I gulped down my drink as Jack came back to the table. "Your wife's a real cutie, Tom," he said, and lifted his glass. He looked like he wanted to ask me something, but before he could say anything, Anne returned. I could hardly breathe. Her full breasts were wobbling slightly underneath the material of her T-shirt, although she was trying to walk in a way that would minimize the motion. I could see the dark area of her nipples, and I could no longer see her panties beneath the skirt, just the hint of skin color going all the way up to her waist. My heart was pounding.

Anne sat down. Her face was flushed, and I saw that she'd put on some more make-up. Jack was speechless for a moment - the first time all evening. He was having a hard time not paying attention to my wife's boobs. I decided it was time for hubby to disappear if my master plan was ever to take effect.

As another Latin song started, I stood up. "Listen you guys, I've had a long day of reading and sitting in the sun," I said. "I'm going to call it a day. Have fun ... and don't stay out too late," I said to Anne, waving a finger at her.

I hurried away before Anne could say anything. I had a serious erection thinking about Jack getting such an eyeful of my wife's luscious chest. When I got back to our bungalow, I could hardly control myself. I rubbed my cock a few times but decided to save it for later. I was sure my wife would have something good to tell me.

Finally, after almost an hour, Anne returned to our room. She stood at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips, looking slightly defiantly at me. I was still amazed at how great her breasts looked in that T-shirt. Her face was still flushed. She smiled at me. 

"It looks like you had a good time," I said. I was lying on the bed, a book open on my lap, hiding my erection.

She shook her shoulders once so that her tits wobbled beneath the T-shirt. "Jack certainly did," she said. She opened her purse and pulled out her bra and panties, tossing them casually onto the sofa. She looked like she was pretty bombed.

"And you liked that?" I asked. 

She walked to the side of the bed and looked down at me, with a pout on her lips. "You're not jealous, are you?" I could smell the booze again. 

"I don't know, did you do anything?" I reached up and tried to squeeze her breasts, but she backed away, teasing me. 

"I might have," she said. "Would you be jealous?"

My hard-on was pulsing in my shorts. I didn't say anything. 

"We might have gone for a little walk," she said dreamily. She started to walk around the room, play-acting her stroll with Jack, I assumed. "Maybe we went down to the beach, where it's romantic. Maybe we danced a samba on the beach." She turned and looked at me. "Would that make you jealous?" She giggled.

I just watched her, not saying anything. "Maybe I let him kiss me." She closed her eyes and licked her lips. "Then maybe we walked down the beach to a place where nobody could see us. Beside those yellow sailboats." We hadn't been to the beach yet and I didn't know about any yellow sailboats. Was this story for my entertainment, or was it real?

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. She walked over to the bed. "Then maybe he asked me to take off my top." She reached down and lifted the book off my lap. My shorts tented from my rigid cock. She giggled again. "Tsk, tsk, you are naughty." She rubbed the front of my shorts. 

"Maybe I was feeling a little wild, knowing what my husband wanted, and so maybe I started to slowly ..." She started to peel her shirt up, swaying her hips. "Maybe I wanted him to see my breasts." As the material slid up over her boobs, they bounced down and wobbled free. Her nipples poked way out. She was turned on. She pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor.

"And maybe I wanted him to see more than that." She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her skirt and tugged it down. She wiggled her hips as she pulled the skirt lower, so her boobs and bum jiggled. My cock was ready to explode. "Would that have made you jealous?" she asked.

She turned around and walked toward the door, swaying her hips. She still had her sandals on with the low heels. Her bum and thighs trembled slightly as she walked. She spun around, eyes closed, and arms above her head. "The cool air caressing my naked skin." She sighed. "Feeling it on my thighs, my breasts." She reached down and caressed herself gently, eyes still closed. "Feeling his eyes on my body." She opened her eyes and looked at me.

I couldn't tell if she was telling me what actually happened, or what she thought I wanted to hear. "Would you like that?" she purred. 

All I could do was gape at her. She was so hot it was killing me. "Maybe standing out there in the moonlight, on the beach, with another man looking at my nude body ... maybe that got me incredibly wet."

She got onto the bed and straddled my chest. Slowly she inched her hips upwards until her pussy was right over my face. She looked down at me, over her large breasts. I could feel the heat from her, and smell her. "What could have gotten me so wet?" she asked in a whisper. She lowered herself towards me. I opened my mouth and ran my tongue over her lips and up her slit until I reached her swollen clit. She groaned. She really was soaking wet.

She leaned forward and put her hands on the headboard. Her heavy breasts swung into my face. "Maybe he asked if he could fuck me." She was panting a little now. She pressed herself down onto my mouth, moving her hips up and down in a slow rhythm over my tongue. "Maybe he sat down on the sand with his cock pointing in the air, and maybe I lowered myself onto him." Her rhythm picked up pace. She was off in her own world. "So long and stiff," she moaned. "The ocean air on my skin. So wet." 

She was moving much faster over my tongue now. I could sense that she was close to orgasm. "Maybe I felt him so strong inside of me. Maybe he kissed my breasts as he thrust deep into my pussy." She was getting louder now, too. "Maybe he said he was going to come inside of me!"

She squeezed her eyes closed and gasped loudly. She pressed herself down onto my face and squeezed her thighs together, pinching and tugging on her nipples so that her breasts swayed wildly from side to side. I grabbed her bum with both hands and pressed my face into her, driving my tongue as deep as I could into her drenched pussy. She was groaning and writhing like I'd never seen before. 




The Dance Lesson Ch. 03



It was one of the longest days of my life, waiting for my wife's dance lesson at five o'clock. She'd been invited by one of her dance partners to go for a walk after the lesson and explore the resort where we were staying for our summer vacation. The invitation was exactly what I'd been hoping for in my plan to have my wife, Anne, make love to another man.

Still, I was very nervous, and my feelings were very mixed. On the one hand, I had a hard-on most of the day in anticipation of what might happen. After just two days at the resort, Anne was losing her usual inhibitions. She'd always insisted that her figure was too full to be sexy. And lately, she'd added that she was too old - just over forty - to be attractive anymore.

But the vacation, the sun and somehow the Latin dance classes she was taking every afternoon were all having a positive effect. She said she was feeling sexy again for the first time in years. She was dressing in a more revealing way, and that got her a lot of male attention which in turn made her feel even sexier. All in all, the vacation was doing wonders for her self confidence.

It was also doing wonders for our sex life. At dinner the evening before, she'd teased her favorite dance partner, Jack, by wearing a tight white T-shirt without a bra. The poor guy couldn't take her eyes off of her. The cotton really gripped her full breasts and if the light was right, you could see her nipples, the faintest shade darker, under the material.

Hoping some sparks might fly, I left them alone. When Anne returned to our bungalow an hour later, pretty boozed up, she told a hot and horny story about stripping for him on the moonlit beach and then fucking him. We had the wildest sex of our 15-year marriage, ending with huge orgasms.

She claimed afterwards it was all made up just to get me off. But Jack had invited her to go out with him after the dance lesson the next day. That turned me on, but also made me jealous. Now that seeing my wife with another guy was a real possibility, my feelings started to change. My dick wanted it to happen, but my head was afraid of what the consequences might be. Plus, my wife was becoming a lot more ... well, slutty. She was dressing more provocatively and enjoying it. She'd never been like that before. Again, it turned me on and scared me at the same time.

All of that was going through my head as I watched her get ready for her date. She was toweling her hair off after a long shower. Her breasts, bum and thighs all shuddered as she shook her hair. I admired her figure. She was still pretty hot. Her breasts were large and heavy but didn't sag. Her nipples were pink and, when they were erect, long and thick. She also had a nice round bum. Her tummy was flat, which made her ample boobs and hips all the more dazzling. Add to that smooth, taut skin. She jiggled nicely when she moved but there were no stretch marks or cellulite. Last but not least, she had full, inviting mouth and big blue eyes. If you wanted to describe her looks in one word, it would have to be voluptuous.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, glancing up at me as she ran a brush through her shoulder-length hair. "You make feel self-conscious."

"I'm just imagining Jack seeing you like this," I said, trying to smile. I really was imagining that, and it made me so horny I had a hard time getting the words out without stuttering.

"What makes you think he's ever going to see me like this?" she asked. "He wants to look around the resort, not ... screw me." She walked out of the bathroom and opened the top drawer of the dresser. She pulled out some white panties, looked at them, and dropped them back. 

"He wants to screw you, definitely," I said, laughing. Was she kidding? "And I want to watch him do it." I was sitting in an armchair watching her. She was quite a sight.

"You're a perv, Tom," she said. She wasn't laughing, but at least she smiled. A little, anyway. She lifted out a black bra, and tossed it onto the bed.

"You were pretty hot about him last night," I said. She was obviously planning to wear her sexiest underwear for her date.

"You were the one who was hot last night," she said. She pulled the matching panties from the drawer, then slid it shut. Then she turned to me. "I told you, I just made all that stuff up for your benefit." She walked over to the bed and put on the panties. "Besides, I was bombed last night."

"But you said you might do it if we thought it was a good idea," I said. I watched her put on her bra. It was sheer, with a bit of black lace covering the nipples. It was an incredible outfit. She reached a hand into each bra cup to adjust her breasts. "And I ... I think it ... uh ... it's a good idea," I added.

"No, you don't," she said. "And I'm not so sure either." She walked over to the closet. Her bum wiggled deliciously in the sheer fabric of the panties.

"You sure look like you think it's a good idea," I said. She lifted out a black dress I had never noticed before.

She turned back to me, first with a scolding look, then with a smile. "Tom, you're the one who convinced me I could still be sexy. And you know what? I'm enjoying it. I'm dressing like this because I want to look and feel sexy. You like it when I look sexy for other guys, and now I'm going to go dance with Jack and then go for walk and feel sexy and enjoy myself."

She slid the black dress over her head. It was a snug, and hugged her curves in all the right places. It was about knee-length, but had a slit up one leg, about halfway up her thigh. It was just right for Latin dancing, I had to admit.

"When did you buy that?" I asked. She was turning in front of the mirror. We were both admiring what we saw. 

"This morning at the resort shop. Do you like it?"

"It's fantastic," I said. It really was fantastic. She slipped on some black heels that accentuated her calves. I'd never seen her look so good.

"OK, sweetheart, I'll see you later," she said. She came over to my chair, bent down and gave me a peck on the cheek. "Don't wait up for me. And don't worry. I'll tell all when I come home." She smiled at me, turned and walked out the door.

I gave her a five-minute head start and then went out to follow her. The dance lessons took place in a small area beside the main swimming pool. I found myself a table at the back of the pool bar where I had a view of the dance area without being seen: I sat down, ordered a beer and turned to watch.

It was a full class. Anne was practicing some steps with the cute female dance instructor. In her tight black dress, my wife was attracting glances from quite a few guys. But I couldn't see Jack. The music switched to something slower, and they changed partners. I recognized one her partners, a younger, dark-haired guy. He was one of the two guys - Jack was the other - who had been eying my wife in her one-piece bathing suit and sheer beach wrap on the first day of classes. 

But not Jack. He was definitely a no-show. My heart sank. I ordered another beer while my wife danced. Without Jack, I thought there was no way anything was going to happen now. All my plans out the window, I thought. I guess I'll have to be satisfied with my fantasies. 

I was staring out toward the beach, silently cursing Jack, when I realized the music had stopped. When I turned to look at the dance area, I saw my wife standing at the bar. I shrank back, startled. My following her around was not part of the deal, but she hadn't seen me. I looked around for a way out of the bar without attracting her attention, but I couldn't see any options. Instead, I moved my chair as far into the corner as possible where a palm tree at least partly concealed me from her view.

Looking the way she did, it wasn't long before a guy was hitting on her. He bought her a drink and they struck up a conversation, but I could tell right away he wasn't her type. Too much hair gel, the wrong kind of shirt. I don't know, it just wasn't her guy. Sure enough, after a quarter of an hour, he was gone.

I was just about to try my luck at sneaking out when her dark-haired dance partner showed up. I wasn't sure whether he was her type or not, but he was young and good-looking, with a full head of thick, black hair. I was envious. My hair was long gone. The name Marcello popped into my head. That was the name I had cooked up for an imaginary Latin lover in a fantasy I had told to my wife on our first night at the resort. Marcello, like the Italian actor, Marcello Mastroiani. Seeing her get off on that fantasy was one of the reasons I had decided to try and set up this whole situation in the first place. Anyway, here at last was some potential. I sat back to see what would happen.

He bought her a drink. Unlike Jack, he seemed very serious. There was no joking or laughing, but he had Anne's interest. He pointed over to the dance floor once or twice and held up his arms in one, then another position, moving his hips as though he were dancing. I guessed he was showing her a step or something. She nodded her head. She smiled and even giggled once. Things were getting better.

He was explaining something to her, very serious face. But she was laughing at him. He shook his head, and looked cross, then held out his hand. He wanted to dance with her. She looked around the bar, embarrassed. I ducked my head quickly, but she wasn't actually looking around. Then she smiled at him and let him lead her out onto the patio in front of the bar, where they did a few steps. They were both looking down at their feet ... or maybe he was looking down at her tits? I wasn't sure, but my cock stirred a little.

After they'd danced for a couple of minutes, he spun her around once with a flourish, and then he finally smiled at her. I had to admit, it was a dazzling smile, all white teeth in that dark, Mediterranean face. They went back to the bar and had some more to drink. I guzzled my beer. 

After a minute, Marcello gestured with his head towards the beach, raising his eyebrows. My wife nodded and off they went. Her date was working out after all. I watched them head down a little stone pathway towards the beach. Her bum was wobbling in her tight dress and with every step, I - and the rest of the world - got a nice flash of thigh. She was teetering a little on her high heels and after a few steps, reached down and took her shoes off. She looked so sexy and cute in her bare feet and that tight dress, carrying her shoes in her hand ... it was heartbreaking.

When they'd disappeared through some trees, I stood up and followed. Although it was now after seven and the sun was getting low in the sky, it was still warm out and I was feeling the beer. I reached a line of sand dunes above the beach and looked down in both directions. I couldn't see them right away, but there were still quite a few people out and it was going to take me a while to find them. Maybe they weren't even here, I thought.

But after a minute, I saw my wife's black dress. She and Marcello were walking away from me, close to the waterline. They were about fifty yards away. She still held her shoes in one hand. He held his hands together behind his back. They turned to look at one another from time to time, talking and nodding their heads. I headed after them.

After a few minutes, they turned inland between some dunes and up towards some of the bungalow residences. The sun was setting by this time, and cast a crimson glow over the sand and the scrub brush at the top of the beach. I couldn't see them anymore, so I started to jog to the path where they'd changed direction. I reached it just in time to see them go through the front door of one of the bungalows.

My heart started to race, and not just from the jogging. I walked slowly towards the bungalow. It was laid out like ours, with the front door towards the walkway and a window facing a small garden in the back. There were two small windows on either side that looked in on the bedroom and the bathroom.

I looked around. There was nobody to be seen, so I quickly ducked into a hedge at the side of the bungalow and snuck around the corner to the back, where I could peek through the large garden window. My wife was sitting on a small leather sofa. The decor was nicer than our place. A higher price class, I figured. Marcello was standing in front of her, pouring white wine into a glass. Then he poured himself a glass and sat down beside her. They raised their glasses and toasted each other. 

After a while, he stood up and walked out of view. I heard some music come on. It was Latin music, Cuban maybe, I didn't really know. Marcello re-appeared after another couple of minutes, licking a cigarette paper and sealing what was obviously a joint. He lit it with a large glass lighter, took a long drag and then handed it to my wife. She giggled, took a puff, coughed and handed it back, waving away the smoke in her face.

Marcello did most of the smoking but Anne took a few hits and I could see that the combination of booze and dope was having an effect. After a few minutes, Marcello stood up and reached out his hand, offering to dance. My wife looked up with a far-away smile on her face. They started to dance. Maybe because of the booze, or maybe because Marcello was a good dancer, my wife seemed a lot more fluid, more relaxed in her motions. She closed her eyes and let him lead her around the small living room. 

He pulled her close from time to time, and her chest squeezed into him. Her bum rolled and swayed to the rhythm. I was getting a serious hard-on. Marcello had his hands in the classic position. His left arm was extended away from their bodies so he could twirl, pull and push my wife around the dance floor. His right hand was firmly on her side, fingers along her ribs, just below her breasts. He was guiding her effortlessly. 

It wasn't long before his right hand began to wander down to my wife's hip. Then, when he pulled her close, he reached slightly behind, holding the top of her bum. She didn't resist. Then he pushed her out, spun her around once and brought her back. This time he just reached down, gripped her bum firmly and pulled her hips towards him. Again, she showed no resistance. Her eyes were still closed. She looked like was lost in her own world.

The next time he spun her and pulled her back, he bent his head down and kissed her. Their dancing abruptly stopped. My wife opened her eyes for a moment and pulled back slightly, but then closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Marcello took my wife's head between his hands and pushed his tongue deep into her mouth. She responded by leaning into him, pressing her hips against his. Her breasts squeezed out sideways with the motion.

They separated and looked into each other's face for a few moments. Then Marcello walked to the edge of the window. I quickly pulled back, my cock throbbing in my pants. He pulled the curtains closed.

I tried to peek in but there was no opening. I could see shadows inside but nothing more. I moved to the side of the house where I thought the bedroom window was located. The curtain was still open. The bedroom was dark and I could see through the door into the illuminated living room. All I could see was the end of the sofa but after a second I realized that I could see the curtained garden window and the reflection of two figures dancing. 

By now it was dark outside. I heard voices in the distance but I couldn't see anyone nearby. I looked back into the bungalow. In the reflection I could see my wife and Marcello kissing again, with as much passion as before. Marcello was running his hands up and down the sides of my wife's black dress. She was holding the back of his head, her mouth open and willing as he drove his tongue into her.

Then she pushed herself free and began to sway and dance on her own. He moved out of view. She lifted her hands behind her head and undid the clasp of her dress. My heart was breaking out of my chest. I opened the fly of my pants and my iron-hard erection popped free. I glanced around again but saw nobody. I turned back to see my wife sliding the zipper of her dress slowly down her back. Then she turned, facing me. Again I ducked, but she wasn't looking in my direction. She pushed her shoulders together and the dress slipped down, catching briefly on her boobs before falling free to the ground.

She stood with her back to Marcello and lifted her hands up again over head, swaying to the Latin music. She was really getting into it. I slowly stroked my cock, but I had to stop almost immediately. I was so hot I would have cum right away.

Then Anne looked back over her shoulder at Marcello and reached her hands behind her to undo her bra. She smiled wickedly at him, then turned back and closed her eyes as she again pushed her shoulders together. The bra fell to the ground. Her heavy breasts wobbled free. The nipples were erect and stuck out like I had seldom seen them. She ran her hands down her sides, then up again, over the sides of her breasts and then into her hair, all the time swaying her hips to the music. 

Still with her back to her audience, she slid her fingers under the waistband of her black panties and began to tug them down over her broad hips and bulging bum. The waistband kind of snapped free as she pulled it over the last curve, and her bum shivered as it was released. She had to push the panties down over her legs, which she kept straight as she bent over. My cock twitched. I thought I was going to shoot my load.

Now she was totally naked. She kept dancing slowly, still facing away from Marcello. After a few moments, she decided to give him what he was waiting for. With her hands behind her head and still swaying her hips, she slowly turned. The gentle yellow light from the living room lit up her trembling breasts in profile. The skin on her thighs glowed. She was absolutely gorgeous.

Then she slowly walked out of my range of view. I swallowed hard, my erection pulsing. Now what? I could see shadows moving but that was all. Grinding my teeth, I pushed my cock back into my pants and went back around to the garden window. Still nothing to see. I remembered that the door in our bungalow was a sliding window. I put my hands on the glass and very gently pushed. It moved. I slid the door open about a foot. The music was louder now. I reached in and slowly pushed the curtain to one side.

Marcello and my wife were dancing. She was naked but he was still dressed. He devoured her with his gaze every time he pushed her away to spin her around, or when he dipped her back, his face only inches from her upturned breasts. The front of his pants bulged prominently. My wife had her eyes closed most of the time. She simply gave herself over to him.

Then, as he pulled her back to him, he reached down with both hands on her bum and pulled her hips roughly into his. The jolt made her breasts jiggle, and her bum bulged out between his fingers. He began to rub himself up against her, staring down into her face with a furious expression. 

She smiled at him, then put her hands on his chest and pushed him back slightly. She reached down and began to undo his pants. With my one free hand, I again pulled my throbbing cock out of my pants. The touch of the cool night air on my raging hard-on was electrifying. 

My wife sank to her knees and tugged Marcello's pants down. He was wearing tight black underwear and his erection was bulging up. Anne pulled his underwear down. His cock sprang up, absolutely rock hard, just an inch from her face. It was longer than mine, I couldn't help but notice. She looked up at him and smiled, then closed her eyes, parted her lips and drew his erection into her mouth. 

Marcello put his head back and moaned. My wife slowly moved her lips down over his rigid shaft, all the while looking up at him. She was obviously enjoying the intense pleasure she was bringing him. With her hands on his hips, she started a rhythmic back and forth. Her lips glistened. Marcello still looked up at the ceiling but reached down and took my wife's head between his hands. She didn't need much coaxing, as far as I could tell. 




The Dance Lesson Ch. 04



After my wife’s drunken encounter with Marco, our vacation started to spin out of control.

I had no one to blame but myself, of course. I had encouraged my normally reserved wife, Anne, to be more adventurous, to show off her curves, to flirt and generally open up a bit more. We were at a beach resort, no kids to worry about, the weather was warm. It was time, I said, to have a little fun.

Anne started by signing up for Latin dance lessons. That, I decided later, was the trigger for all of the things that eventually happened. The dancing, she said, was incredibly erotic. The swaying movement, the close physical contact, all of the sexual energy just below the surface. And it was a place to meet potential admirers.

Anne had responded to my urgings with unexpected enthusiasm. It started with some harmless role playing, just the two of us pretending she was showing off. That was followed by a little light exhibitionism, nothing more than putting on a bathing suit that was more revealing than my full-figured wife was used to.

Encouraged by the many appreciative looks she got at the pool, she then agreed to my suggestion of some bra-less teasing of another resort guest during dinner one evening. Then a date with him was arranged. It was supposed to be a walk on the beach, some flirting, then my wife could tell me some made-up hot and sexy story later about “what really happened.” A game, in other words, designed to add a little spice to our sex lives.

However, although the date didn’t materialize as planned, what happened instead went beyond anything I expected. My wife, under the influence of both booze and dope, became involved in a full-blown sexual encounter that I secretly witnessed through an open window. Later she’d told me all the details, as agreed. Unfortunately, they weren’t made up. It all happened exactly as she said.

I say “unfortunately” because of course my feelings were mixed about what was happening. Seeing my wife with other men had been a long-time fantasy of mine. But seeing it with my own eyes changed everything. It was arousing beyond my wildest dreams, seeing other men’s hands and lips on my wife’s responsive flesh. But naturally I was also jealous, especially because my wife so obviously enjoyed it and wanted even more.

Since then, two days had passed and I’d had some time to think about what was happening, what to do next. Anne and I hadn’t discussed Marco since she’d sobered up and my lust had eased. 

That night at dinner, I couldn’t take the tension any longer. “You still want to do it with someone else, right?” I asked.

Anne sipped her glass and looked around the dining room. It was full, as usual, and her tight-fitting T-shirt (without a bra, of course) was attracting the usual leers. She looked stunningly sexy, there was no other way to describe her. As usual, I felt that dangerous mixture of desire and jealousy.

Then she looked back at me and took a deep breath.

“I assume that means you don’t want to,” she said. She’d obviously been thinking about it as long as I had.

“Not necessarily,” I said. I pushed my wine glass to one side and leaned forward. “I’d just feel better if we talked about it first.”

Anne shrugged her shoulders. “I’m all ears,” she said.

“That story about Marco,” I said. “That was true, wasn’t it?” I knew it was true but I still had to ask.

Anne looked down at her plate. “Yes, it was true,” she said quietly.

Just then a waiter appeared and cleared away our plates. When he was gone, I started up again.

“You said afterwards that you liked the feeling it gave you, that you turned him on so much,” I said. I realized how talking about it was making me jealous. “Was that all you felt?”

Anne looked up, surprised. “What else should I feel?”

I looked at her steadily. “Did it mean something special to you? Or was it just a fling?” The thought behind this question turned me on, I realized.

My wife blinked at me. “Do you mean, did I fall in love with him or something?” She said it as though you would have to be insane to even think such a thing, let alone actually say it.

“Not love, but … you must at least like him,” I said. I was starting to feel some arousal at what her answer might be. 

“Tom, sometimes you amaze me,” she said. She shook her head and looked down at the table cloth. She swept away a few crumbs, then looked back up at me. I didn’t believe her.

“It’s not that crazy an idea,” I said. “After all, you were extremely intimate with him. You must have felt something … special.”

“I told you already what I felt,” she said. She was becoming defensive. 

“Anne, be honest with me,” I said, my cock beginning to stir. “When you kissed him, you must have felt something for him besides just lust.”

“Don’t do this, Tom,” she said. She swept away some more crumbs. It was obvious that she was afraid of where this conversation might lead.

I decided to back off. Maybe she was right, it was too dangerous. I didn’t know what I was after. A confession that she liked the guy? Why did that turn me on? I was beginning to think I was a pervert.

Suddenly an idea came into my head. “I want to be with you the next time you do it,” I said. 

Anne looked up, surprised. She didn’t say anything for a moment. It looked like she was trying to figure something out.

“You mean, like a threesome?” she said finally. 

“Exactly,” I said. I smiled as the idea took a clearer shape in my head.

Anne shook her head quickly. “Oh no, Tom, there’s no way,” she said. “I couldn’t do that, not with you … beside me. With my husband right there? No way.”

“Why not?” I asked. I knew what she was going to say, but she was silent. “Because it’s too private? Too intimate?” I had a raging hard-on by this time, but I had no idea why.

Anne looked at me for a moment, then looked down at her hands on the table. She didn’t answer.

I looked at her full boobs, tightly wrapped in her T-shirt. I decided to change my approach once again.

“You look fantastic,” I said. “Your tits look good enough to eat. I’d love to show them to somebody else.” My head filled with images of my wife and Marco as my cock pounded in my pants. I wondered for a moment if I was going crazy.

She looked up from the table, then smiled. “You’re hopeless,” she said. 

“I’d love to hold your tits up for someone else to nibble on,” I said. “I’d like to kiss you and squeeze you while someone else is fucking you.” 

Anne giggled. “Nibble on?”

“Okay, I mean suck your nipples until they stand up, hard as little erasers,” I said. I was glaring wildly at her. I could almost feel the rubbery texture of her nipples as I described the scene to her.

Anne shook her head, still smiling. “You’d like that, would you?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t you?” I answered.

She kept smiling and I knew the answer.