The Dance Lesson

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.

***

The next evening we visited the resort’s disco. My wife put on the same tight black dress she had worn for Marco, this time without anything underneath. It was so dark in the disco, you couldn’t really see how she was practically naked. But anyone dancing with her would know immediately.

And it wasn’t long before she was up on the dance floor. We’d had to resort to a few drinks beforehand to get our courage up. After that, it was easier to do what we needed to do. She would dance with a few guys. If she liked someone, she’d bring him to our table and we’d make it clear that we were open for a little fun. Hopefully, we’d manage to invite him back to our room for a party.

It wasn’t long before Anne was back at the table with a guy following close behind her.

“Tom, meet Len,” she said. She was red in the face. I couldn’t tell if it was from the dancing, the booze, or something else.

“Hi Len,” I said, shaking his hand. “Sit down, let’s have a drink.” I waved at a nearby waiter. We were at a table with an L-shaped bench around two sides. Anne sat down in the corner of the L, with Len and me on either side.

Len looked to be in his mid-forties. He was well-dressed, in a blue blazer, khaki slacks and expensive loafers. It was too Prep School for my taste, but I knew Anne liked the classic look. He looked wealthy … and a bit bombed, judging by his red eyes.

“You have a fun wife,” he said after the drinks were served. He looked over at her and laughed. “You’re a lucky man.”

I reached over and pulled Anne close for a moment, running my hand up her back, enjoying the feeling of her skin beneath the thin material. Len’s eyes followed my hand. “You’re right about that,” I said. “She’s special.”

Anne looked down and smiled. Len reached over and copied my move, running his hand across my wife’s back. He looked at me, smiling. I smiled back at him.

Five minutes later, we were in our room. We poured ourselves another round and chatted about nothing in particular. After a couple of minutes, Anne excused herself and went to the bathroom.

Len tried to make small talk, but we ended up just drinking. We were both getting nervous. I was about to turn on the television when the bathroom door opened a crack and Anne poked her head out.

“Would one of you please turn out the lights?” she asked.

Len and I looked at each other, then he shrugged his shoulders and stood up. He walked to the door and flicked the light switch. Then Anne shut off the light in the bathroom.

It didn’t take long for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was some light from the walkway outside our bungalow shining through the window. It was enough to see my wife’s curvy figure step out of the bathroom. Despite the dim light, she was obviously nude.

She took a few steps and stopped. The room was completely quiet. I could see Len’s shadow by the door. My wife slowly walked towards the window, where the dim light from outside illuminated her body. She lifed her arms and began a slow dance.

It was hypnotic. As she moved, the light would highlight a breast, then her bum, the curve of a hip, a glint of moisture on her lips. Once she swayed in profile for a few moments and I could see a stiff nipple in sharp outline. My cock pounded at the sight.

I approached her quietly and took her in my arms. She didn’t resist. The feel of her full, soft flesh in my hands was intoxicating. I pulled her to me and ran my hands down her sides, over hips, then up over her tummy, finally closing my hands around her tits.

I leaned down and whispered into her ear: “Go over to Len and let him touch you.” I thought my erection might rip through my pants.

I watched her walk over and stand in front of Len. She reached one arm and touched his shoulder. Then I saw their figures come together in the shadows, embracing. I could hear them kiss, and the sound of Len’s clothes rubbing over my wife’s skin.

I let them enjoy each other for a few moments, then walked up behind my wife and ran my hands down her back, cupping her buttocks and sliding my finger tips inside her thighs. She pressed her bum back against me, but kept her arms around Len’s neck. They were breathing heavily through their noses as they continued to kiss deeply.

I felt Anne step back. As she helped Len get undressed, I quickly pulled my clothes off. I could feel my erection pumping along with my racing heart.

Then Anne turned and put her arms around me. We kissed. She reached down with one hand and gently stroked my rigid cock. I squeezed her breasts, feeling their weight.

“You want him inside you, don’t you?” I said to her. I was hoarse with excitement.

“Yes,” she whispered. I could barely hear her.

Then she took the two of us by the hand and led us to the bed. She lay down on her back. The light from outside caused her skin to glow and accentuated the roundness of her breasts and thighs. Her nipples stood up long and stiff.

She lay her arms over head and lifted one knee. It was an invitation that Len accepted quickly. He began to kiss her calves and slowly worked his way up her legs, gently kissing the insides of her thighs.

I began to kiss her again on the lips, massaging her breasts and gently tugging on her nipples. She was breathing heavily. As Len reached her slit with his mouth, she gasped and lifted her head up against mine. Then she moaned very quietly.

I pulled my face away and looked down. In the shadows I could see how my wife was lifting her hips in rhythm to Len’s tongue. She was giving herself over to him completely, just as she had done with Marco.

I looked at the way her arms were lying limp above her head. Her openness and vulnerability fired my lust, made we want to dominate her completely. I moved higher up on the bed and took her wrists in my hands. I held her arms down against the mattress.

Anne turned her head to one side and pressed her face into her upraised arm. “Oh yeah,” she said, barely a whisper.

Len moved up, kissing her tummy and then her breasts. As he drew a nipple into his mouth, she moaned again. She tried to lift her head and arms, but I held her down. Her head fell back against the bed.

Then Len lifted himself over her. She opened her thighs willingly, and in one quick move he was inside of her. I could hear how wet she was.

“Oh, yeah,” she said again, still a whisper but louder this time. “Oh, fuck.”

She lifted her head again and sucked in her breath as Len began to thrust into her. His breathing sped up as well.

It didn’t take him long. After another four or five thrusts, he called out. “Shit!” he yelled, then pushed down strongly against my wife. She bucked back against him and I had to work hard to hold her down.

“You’re fucking me so hard,” she gasped. “Cum in me!”

Len dropped his head onto my wife’s shoulder and reached down with both hands to grasp her bum and pull her closer to him. He was in the final throes of a powerful orgasm. I noticed in the dim light how my wife’s breasts squeezed out the sides as he pressed himself against her.

A moment later, he was done. He lay on her, panting. I knew that Anne had not yet cum. She licked her lips and swallowed hard. I reached down and petted the side of her face. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

Len lifted his head when he heard me, then rolled off. I leaned down and kissed my wife, pushing my tongue into her mouth. My cock throbbed, almost painfully. My longing to take her was beyond description.

She sucked my tongue into her mouth and pulled my shoulders down. She wanted me to mount her.

“You gave me to him,” she whispered in my ear as I swung my body around between her legs. “I did what you wanted.” She took my earlobe between her lips and licked it, sending a chill down my back.

“What you wanted,” I said. Her breathing was picking up again. “You enjoyed it, I saw you enjoy it.” I lowered my head and roughly kissed a nipple.

She didn’t say anything. She pushed up with her hips against me, but I didn’t enter her.

“Tell me how much you enjoyed it,” I gasped. My lust was going out of control.

Anne pulled my head down beside her face so that she spoke directly into my ear. I could feel her hot breath on my face. “He made me so wet, his strong hands on my body. Feeling him so hard.”

I nudged the head of my cock against her soaking wet slit. The idea that she was full of another man’s sperm only excited me more.

“I wanted him to kiss me so much,” she said. She was talking both of us into a frenzy.

I drove my cock into her. She was so wet, I couldn’t feel any resistance at all.

“I wanted his tongue in my mouth,” she said. “To taste him.”

I pumped into her furiously.

“But most of all ...” she said, moaning as her arousal began to peak, “ … I wanted to feel him … cum inside of me.” She said the last words through gritted teeth.

I groaned loudly as I released my load deep inside of her. She thrust up against me, whimpering, almost crying. As I pushed into her as hard as I could, I felt her legs go rigid beneath me and she let out a growling moan.

We held onto each other in a desperately tight embrace as our orgasms crashed over us. We rocked back and forth, and as I arched my back, I pulled her up with me, squeezing her head tightly against my chest.

Then we both collapsed onto the bed. I was gasping for breath, as though I had just run a marathon. Anne was quieter, running her hands over my shoulder blades, then down over my buttocks.

I suddenly remembered Len and turned my head. But he must have gotten dressed and left. There was no sign of him.

I rolled off of her and lay on my back. There was a square of light on the ceiling from a nearby streetlamp. Crickets were chirping loudly. I realized that our window had been open the whole time.

After a while, Anne rolled into me and snuggled against my chest. “Is that what you had in mind?” she asked sleepily.

I thought about her question for a moment. “Possibly,” I said. I smiled in the half light. I had no idea what I wanted. I was in that warm space that engulfs you after an orgasm. I wondered idly how the good feelings resulting from the release of certain chemicals in the brain after an orgasm could outweigh common sense. It was obviously crazy what we were doing, but at that moment, I didn’t care.

“I enjoyed it, too,” Anne said.

“I know,” I said. I reached over and squeezed a breast. “You’re a filthy slut.” I laughed.

Anne started to laugh as well. Gallows humor, I thought. We’ve been condemned to a life of depravity and laughing was the only way to cope with it.

“Same time tomorrow?” I asked. With that, we both broke into hysterical laughter. How were we going to get through the rest of the vacation, I wondered as we struggled to regain our composure.

I found out the next morning. When I woke up, the sun was pouring in through the window. Another day in paradise, I thought. However, the bed beside me was empty. Anne’s bathing suit was lying on her pillow, along with a note: “Down at the beach getting some sun. I don’t need this. Come watch me when you’re awake. Love, Anne.”

I looked at the clock. It was only eight-thirty. Had she gone mad? Had she left the bungalow naked? I rolled out of bed and thought about my wife strolling down the beach in the nude. My cock stirred once again.

I pulled on my shorts, splashed some water in my face and headed out the door.