Since this is the second part of Chapter 4 of "The Bet" series I recommend you read Part 1 for context. Much of what transpires in this part is based on Part One. If it disturbs you to have a wife stray (no matter the circumstances) this part may not be for you. I'm always amazed at how many people don't like a subject but read stories involving them anyway - and then complain. But it's your time to spend as you like, and I hope you find the further adventures (or misadventures) of Dana entertaining.
Several weeks after the charity fashion show where Dana modeled, I encountered our neighbor John as he was walking his dogs.
"Dave, glad I ran into you - I was planning to call!"
"What's up John?"
"Well, as you know, I'm a member of the country club where the fashion show was held. Our annual membership drive is coming up in a few weeks and your and Dana's names were mentioned as possible new members. I was wondering if you'd be interested in joining."
"I don't know," I told him. "What does that involve?"
"The club has all sorts of activities that might interest you two. I know you're foodies - there are special chef's dinners every month that give the chef the chance to show off his talent. There are sports, of course, golf, tennis and pickleball. There's access to the club's pool and a variety of other things. I can give you a brochure on it, or you can go to the website. To join, you have to be sponsored by a member, which I would be happy to do if you're interested. Then you and Dana would attend an event where prospective members are introduced to current members. If you're invited to join after that, you have to pay an induction fee. There are two tiers to that depending on whether you want to be a social member or a golfing member."
"Sounds interesting, but me talk to Dana about it," I told him.
"Fine, but let me know soon," he said. "Like I said, the new member drive is only a few weeks away."
I spoke to Dana, and we agreed that we should look into becoming members.
"We really don't know that many people outside work," she said, "and this would be a way to meet other people and become more social."
We agreed that we didn't want the golf membership since I didn't play and had no desire to start. I texted John that we were interested, and he replied that he would start the process. There would be an application to fill out, along with other paperwork.
Our application accepted, a few weeks later we were dressing for the recruitment reception to be held at the country club that evening. As a man, my preparations were simple - shined shoes, one of my best suits and a tie. I had even gotten a haircut for the occasion! Dana's preparations were, of course, much more complex. She had gone through the usual gauntlet of female grooming essentials and picked out a dress - the sleek black cocktail dress I had bought for her at the auction.
But there was much more to decide. Shoes were a major decision, and she spent long minutes deciding height of the heel and design of the shoe. She finally decided on a pair of dressy black shoes with a 3-inch heel. That settled, there was the question of hose.
"I hate pantyhose," she told me without my asking. "they're hot and inconvenient." She tried on thigh-high hose and decided they would do, even though there was the chance that the darker top might show. That was solved by turning the potential problem into a positive with a pair that had an intricate pattern at the top, making it sexy if seen.
Lingerie was another issue. Dana considered going braless, since the dress straps wouldn't conceal bra straps. But the top of the dress was too sheer to allow that, unless she didn't mind showing off the outline of her breasts and a clear view of her nipples. A strapless black bra was finally chosen to go with dark black lace panties.
I had exiled myself to the family room during this process, sure that I could serve no constructive purpose in it. But now I was summoned to the bedroom, and I leapt up and hurried there.
"Yes dear," I offered to my wife, who was standing with her back to me, looking into a full-length mirror.
"Zip me up please," she asked, and I hurried to assist. The zipper of the dress started at her waist and went more than halfway up her back to the top of the dress. I zipped it up with no complications - the dress fitting perfectly and a potential crisis averted. Dana spun to face me, a tentative look on her face.
"How do I look?" she asked, doing a slow turn to give me the full effect.
"Stunning," I said truthfully. Dana looked beautiful to me in the simplest clothes and with no makeup. When she dressed up like this and went all out on hair and makeup, she was a supermodel. "That dress compliments your body incredibly well," I told her, getting a big smile. "And I like the hint of the thigh-high hose tops - makes me want to see what's under there..."
Dana spun more quickly, and the dress lifted, giving me a view of the top of the hose and an inch or so of creamy bare thigh. "Keep doing that and you won't get out of this bedroom tonight," I told her. She laughed at that, pleased with the effect she had on me. I stood and moved close to her. "I like how the scooped dress top shows the swell of your breasts too," I said softly, running a finger along the creamy skin there. I particularly liked the dress because it highlighted Dana's beautiful breasts and made her look even more busty in it. "You sure you don't want to stay in tonight?"
Dana gave me a quick kiss and a gentle push. "We have to go," she told me. "We're meeting John and Joan there, remember? Our sponsors?"
"That's a shame," I said, with some bit of real regret. "I really want to unwrap you."
"Later," she said. "If you haven't partied too much."
We drove to the club and left the car with a valet at the entrance. Dana had texted Joan on the way, and John was waiting for us at the massive front doors.
"Hi guys, great to see you," John said enthusiastically, shaking my hand and leaning in to give Dana an air kiss. "There's a group I need to introduce you to, just inside the entry hall. They're the club's board of directors, the folks who run things. Once we get that over with, there's a reception in the main ballroom."
We followed John inside to the ornate front hall and, as he said, quickly encountered a clutch of about a dozen people. 'Like a receiving line at a wedding,' I thought as we started the introduction process. Rodger Graham was the first person we met.
"You both know Rodger of course," John said as we shook hands. "And this is his wife, Samantha." Samantha was a tall redhead, probably about forty-five years old, wearing a shimmering gold cocktail dress that framed a lovely figure. She greeted us warmly, welcoming both of us to the club.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," she said. "Rodger has told me about meeting you at the auction. I have to say," she said, holding Dana's hands and stepping back to look at her, "he did a poor job of describing how beautiful you are Dana." Dana blushed at the compliment and thanked her.
