For the next couple of days my mind was fully preoccupied with my wife's illicit desire to have sex with her best friend's husband. I was also beginning to develop fantasies of what it would be like to be in bed with Carol.
On Tuesday I decided to give a call to my wife from the office. I asked her if she was absolutely sure about her proposal to have a swap with the other couple.
"Well, I've certainly not been joking about it," she responded. "I want him badly, and I want him between my legs."
"Talk to Carol then," I instructed her. "Go ahead and make the necessary arrangements with her."
About an hour later I received a call from my wife.
"I've spoken to Carol," she said, "She'll contact you."
The very next day I received a text message on my mobile phone, "C U @ Paradise Lounge main bar - Sat nite @ 9 xxx Carol xxx"
Tina and I did not exchange a word about it for the next two days. On Saturday morning she woke me up with a kiss.
"Hey, lover boy," she said to me, "The big day has arrived. I have a date with Alan tonight. Did Carol contact you?"
"Yeah," I responded, "I'm meeting her tonight."
"Wow! I'm sure she won't disappoint you."
Then Tine got out of bed and went about her usual Saturday chores, leaving me lying awake in bed.
An uneasy feeling disturbed me as uninvited thoughts swept through my mind. I could not help trying to picture my wife in Alan's arms. Images of their naked bodies pressed against each other. Flashes of my wife impaled on Alan's monstrous erection. Illicit kisses. Illicit passion.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I left for my date at about eight o'clock that evening. Tina was still painting her nails, and she was still in her tee shirt and shorts when I left.
I walked into Paradise Lounge at exactly eight thirty. After looking around the place I settled onto one of the high stools at the bar and ordered a vodka-lime.
The band was playing light music, and some of the guests were on the dance floor. There were also a few couples seated at the tables around the dance floor, eating, drinking and chatting.
At one table in a far corner, a boisterous group of about ten teenagers were having a jolly good time joking and laughing over their drinks. They looked like college students trying to unwind after a hectic week. Occasionally one of the waitresses would go over to their table to serve them, and the youngsters would take the opportunity to tease her and flirt with her.
I had just finished about half my drink when a rather sluttish-looking lady strolled into the lounge and took a seat at the bar. She attracted a lot of attention and seemed to enjoy the limelight.
I glanced at the new guest through the corner of my eye. She wore a skimpy, tight-fitting black halter neck dress that extended down to just below her hips, leaving her long slender legs very generously exposed. The V-neckline of her dress plunged deep down between her breasts, giving an ample view of her cleavage and bulging globes. There was no doubt that this lady was simply dressed to kill.
She ordered a drink and looked around at the goings-on. As she waited for her drink, she lit a cigarette and occasionally took a light puff, hardly inhaling.. When her drink arrived, she immediately took a sizable gulp and munched on some crispy tidbits that came with the drink.
The group of young fellows at the other table could not hide their excitement as they kept gazing at the unaccompanied lady having a drink all by herself. And I could not blame them. She was pretty good-looking and, from the way she was dressed, she was definitely game for more than just drinks.
As I sat sipping on my second drink, I found myself giving her more frequent glances. I scanned the full length of her fantastic body, letting my eyes travel up and down her hour-glass figure. She had dark brown shoulder-length hair that flowed gracefully past her cheeks. Her slender neck was adorned with what looked like a pearl necklace. The more I looked at her, the more beautiful she appeared to my slightly tipsy mind.
After a while, one of the bolder guys out of the group of teenagers walked over to her amid cheers from his friends. He was obviously taking up a challenge from some of his other friends. He whispered something to her and she smiled. Then she got down from the stool and accompanied him to the dance floor.
My eyes darted from one part of her body to another. As she walked in her stiletto heels, her bottom swung provocatively from side to side. She looked really good. This is the kind of woman that a real man needs, I thought to myself.
She danced only two numbers with her young admirer but she made every moment worthwhile for him. Both were slow numbers and there was no doubt that the guy was getting very excited indeed. As the inexperienced youngster danced with her, he tried to clumsily cling on to her fabulous body, and she tried her best not to disappoint him.
She let him hold her really tight, her slim body molded against his, her bosom squashed against his chest. And when he moved his hands down to cup her bottom, she did not resist. At one point he began to clearly rub his pelvis against hers, and I thought that she would walk away from him. But she turned out to be quite a sport and let him continue to enjoy his little thrill till the music stopped.
In between the two numbers the two of them just stood on the dance floor holding on to each other. The youngster hardly spoke to her, but I noticed that she would occasionally say something to him.
When the music resumed they began to sway together again. Now she began to lightly caress the back of his neck, and she also kept whispering something into his ear. I wondered what she was saying to him.
He seemed to be getting even more excited, and again began to grind his hips against hers. He tried to kiss her on her lips but she politely turned her face away, letting him plant a soft kiss on her cheek.
