Jean stood back from the mirror to look at her new outfit. It was just what she wanted to turn on her husband, Ray.
It was a hot pink wrap around micro-mini that clung to her 34-inch hips, leaving a bare 20-inch waist and midriff that exposed soft pearl white skin from just below her 34B tits to just above her red bush. Jean liked to wear low riding skirts to show off her white, flat abdomen. She smoothed her skirt down with her hands and then slowly moved her hands up to her filmy top. Carefully, slowly she moved her hands to her breasts. She stopped just under the rounded mounds. Jean looked at her 34B's. She was very pleased with them.
Her mind wandered to her latest fantasy. Her fantasy male was dark and three years older than her. He was virile, handsome, and fit. His face though in her mind's eye was undefined was rugged with a square chin with a slight beard. Her perfect man was ....
Her mind snapped back to the present. Jean wanted something more than a fantasy. Her husband for the past two years was always out of town on business. At first their love life was fantastic -- up to a point. While in college Jean had gone out with different men. One was a black guy. They fucked. She will never forget black sex. However, she never hooked with another black man. She met and married Ray and tried to make a happy marriage.
She quickly put on bright pink lipstick and straightened the last strands of her long, red hair that flowed to the middle of her pearly white back. She was going to a club for some dancing. If Ray, her hubby, could not please her, maybe she could meet someone who could. As she walked out of her third-floor condo and down to her Corvette, she had a strange feeling deep inside. Jean loved intimacy, but something about Ray was just not satisfying.
A line was already formed outside Club Iridium. Jean pulled up to the parking attendant and got out, letting her skirt slide up a high as possible to show the tops of her thighs for the males in the crowd outside. She heard the gasp and whistles that told her what she wanted to know. Instead of walking to the back of the line, Jean turned and walked up to the front. As the crowd watched, the doorman took one look at the slender, leggy redhead, unhooked the rope, and waved her in. She was definitely the "type" they wanted in Club Iridium.
The whole scene was perfect for Jean who loved to create a visage for the voyeurs in the crowd. The music was loud and the beat was steady. She went straight to the bar and ordered a drink.
"Let me pay for that." The voice came from behind her. She turned and found herself looking up at a tall man who stood about six-foot, three-inches. He was a very muscular. He had a very nice face and deep voice.
"Thank you," Jean said. She was used to men buying her drinks. In fact, she could not remember the last time she paid for a drink at any club. She picked up the drink, leaned back against the bar, raised her foot to rest it on the foot rail, and put the glass to her full inviting lips. Looking over the rim to get her first long look at him, she smiled to herself.
"Do you come here often?" he asked.
"Yes. I come here often. How about you?" she asked. His eyes bore directly into her face and green eyes then slowly down to her breast and past her skirt to her legs. He had a satisfying grin on his face.
Jean looked down to see that her skirt was pulled up and open exposing part of her lacy thong that just covered her puffy cunt lips.
"My name is Jean. What's yours?" she asked, not bothering to re-arrange her skirt.
"Mark! I'm very sorry for not introducing myself," he apologized. His dark eyes were looking directly into hers. They seemed to penetrate her. She could feel the juices beginning to flow in her cunt, causing a tingle that she did not feel very often. At least, she had not felt this way often with Ray.
Suddenly, the music changed. Mark glanced at the DJ's booth and back to Jean.
"Do you want to dance to that?" he asked.
"Sure," Jean said putting her empty glass on the bar. Mark took her hand and led her to a dark corner of the dance floor. He turned to her and began moving to the beat. At first he danced with distance between them. Slowly the distance narrowed until their bodies touched. Jean could feel his hard body moving next to her body. She put her arms around his shoulders.
Jean could feel Mark keeping time with the music and move his hands slowly down her body to her narrowest part of her waist and over her hips. He began to use his hands to guide her hips in exaggerated moves. She had never danced that way before. She caught on to the beat and began to go along with Mark's movements. First, he had her moving from side to side and them forward and backward, in and out of their dance circle.
All the while their eyes never broke contact. Once he got her movements going, Mark's hands began to explore other parts of her body. He slipped his hands under the fold of her wrap around skirt and touched the bare skin on her ass and then grazed over the crack separating each hemisphere of her firm butt. Once his hands touched her, she felt a tingling coming up from deep within her slightly alcohol dulled mind. For just a moment, Jean felt an orgasm start to take over her body.
She took a deep breath and then realized that Mark could tell she was deeply moved by his hands. She was thoroughly enjoying this dance. Eyes transfixed, their faces drew closer and closer until they were only slightly separated. She could feel his breath on her. She realized that her lips were parted slightly, and she was breathing through her mouth. The music stopped. The two stood still for a moment. Mark broke the gaze, Looking down he put a cigarette to his lips. He lit it, took a long draw, and turned his head to exhale.
"Did you like that?" he asked. He took another draw from his cigarette.
"Yes. Thanks for showing me those moves," Jean said.
Mark moved his face closer to Jean took her hand and slowly exhaled. The smoke leaving his parted lips was only inches from Jean's lips. For some reason she instinctively took a deep breath, drawing Marks smoke and breathe into her lungs. She realized that she was holding her breath, allowing the smoke to take full effect. A light trail of smoke left through her lips as she exhaled. The effect was deeply moving.
She hadn't smoked since college. The light smoke from Mark's breath mixed with air had a deep effect on the petite white woman. She felt dizzy. Was it the drink? Was it the smoke? Mark? She became acutely aware that her cunt was very wet and the muscles in her bare abdomen were very tight. She was trembling. Her legs felt weak. A small orgasm suddenly swept over her.
This was the first time in her life that Jean had had an orgasm while talking to a man.
