It's hard to explain how things developed as they did. I've known Cassius since high school. I nicknamed him Ali, after the 1964 world heavyweight boxing champion and it stuck. I tried Butterfly first but he bristled at the thought of it and I thought better of pursuing it, so Ali it was.
Ali married Shandra after college. Shandra is a raven skinned beauty worthy of a world champion. I dated her once, just once, and nothing ever came of it. I never thought I'd get a second chance.
Ali and I ended up working at the same engineering company outside Chicago. He, Shandra, my wife Kim and I bought homes in the same startup development in Schaumburg. Doug and Doris were already living there. When we met them, we hit it off really well and the six of us began regular dinner and outings together.
We met Dominic and Raven when we sat next to them in a restaurant and struck up a conversation. It was something we did often, talking with the people at the next table. Sometimes, it led to pushing the tables together which is what happened that night. They've been part of our little cadre of couples since.
For the last ten years, the eight of us have spent many hours together, dining, playing games and traveling together. Planned or not, none of us have children yet although we're in our late thirties and the clock is ticking.
Our usual routine is working during the week, getting together on Friday night for drinks, dinner at one of our homes or a restaurant we all like and the rest of the weekend spoiling our spouses with sexual and other favors before starting all over again Monday morning.
Our Friday routine was upset several weeks ago. The eight of us went to dinner at a newly opened Asian fusion restaurant in the city. We didn't frequently go into the city so we decided to explore a little before we headed for home. We walked lakeside until the breeze came up and we headed for shelter from the chill. We ended in a small, almost unnoticeable pub. Inside was a replica of a London pub with dark walnut walls and large wingback chairs everywhere.
We piled in and with help from the barkeep, rearranged eight chairs into an open circle at the side of the small dance floor. We settled in with large adult beverages and looked around. There were probably a dozen other patrons. Several singles at the bar, a lone woman holding her own, sitting at a table between two elderly gentlemen seemingly intent on removing her from the bar and probably her clothing later. Two other couples completed the patrons.
The atmosphere was intimate and we lost track of time. It was almost closing time before we realized that everyone except us and the other two couples had left as had the woman between the two gentlemen with her arms in theirs. We also concluded that none of us was in condition to drive, not exactly drunk but pleasantly tranquil. Doug took control and booked several rooms in a nearby lakeside hotel, including a two-bedroom suite with a living room.
In no hurry to leave, Ali asked the barkeep for quarters for the jukebox in the corner and, consulting with the women, selected a dozen or more danceable tunes. We began dancing with each other in various combinations. The other couples watched. When they made no move to join us, Kim and Raven moved toward them and asked the two gentlemen to dance. Dominic and I couldn't leave the two ladies sitting alone, so we offered our hands to them and they accepted.
Eventually, we formed concentric circles of the six women on the inside and the men on the outside. We danced with the partner opposite us for a while and then the ladies moved one partner to the left and we danced for a while with the new partner.
The barkeep watched our performance from behind the bar. I approached him. "Name's Seth," I opened. "Are we creating a problem for you?"
"Beau," said the elderly barkeep and shook my hand. "Not really," he added. "It's past closing time but I just can't ask you to leave when you're having such a fine time."
"We appreciate it," I said. "What can we do to make our continuing all right for you?"
"Nothing I can think of," Beau answered. "I'll lock the door and dim the lights. You can stay as long as you like. I'll head for the back and let you be. Just ring the bell at the end of the bar when you want to leave. "Oh," he added. "No booze."
I shook his hand again. "You're very trustful," I commented.
"I'm usually a good judge of people and the way you included strangers in your activity increased my comfort level," Beau shared.
"We won't disappoint you," I said.
"I believe that," he replied.
I returned to the circle while Beau locked the door and dimmed the lights. He left a pile of quarters on the bar as he left.
We danced with each other for another ten or fifteen minutes. I was paired with one of the women we had included earlier. She introduced herself: "Carlita," she said.
"Seth," I said and held out my hand.
Instead of taking my hand, she put her arms around my neck, and moved close to me to dance. My arms ended up around her body on her waist.
Carlita was maybe five foot three or four and wearing a colorful peasant dress with a very low-cut square neckline and puffed short sleeves over her shoulders. I realized she was pleasantly intoxicated as we danced. The neckline of the dress barely covered the top of her braless breasts, almost revealing her areola as she moved. The sleeves of the dress fell off her shoulders until the elasticized top of her dress seemed in danger of slipping down if she moved the wrong way.
The music shifted to something designed to kindle more active dancing. The circle shifted but Carlita refused to relinquish me. Kim by-passed me to dance with Ali. On the way by, she blew me a kiss and mouthed, "Live one?"
"I nodded and she added, "Don't let her get away."
Everyone, especially the women began to bounce to the music. Carlita was no exception. She bounced in front of me, her massive breasts heaving up and down with her body. Each jump was about three or four inches but her breasts moved at least six inches with each jump. Every time she jumped up, her breasts sank and rebounded when she landed. Every time she jumped, I expected her breasts to escape the top of her dress.
My expectations were fulfilled when Carlita executed a particularly energetic bounce. Her breasts moved further than her dress and remained exposed as she danced. I couldn't rule out a deliberate attempt to have her breasts exposed but she continued to dance, and bounce, almost as if nothing had changed.
The next cut was "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang. Carlita began to spin with the music. She closed her eyes and extended her arms out at shoulder height. Her hair flung out as she spun, her dress flared almost as high as her waist exposing her white cotton panties and her breasts swung around following her chest. Every ten or fifteen seconds, she took a break to regain her equilibrium and then spun in the opposite direction. When the music stopped, she leaned against me to get her breath and then stood and began to pull her dress over her breasts.
"No. Don't," came a voice from across the room. Kim later told me the speaker was Vega, Carlita's friend. "Leave them out. They're beautiful."
"Really?" asked Carlita.
"Really," responded Vega.
Carlita looked at me. "Really?" she asked again.
"Oh yeah," I said. "Really."
