Sitting in the far corner of the dimly lit bar, Jack was slightly overwhelmed by the ear-splitting noise emitted by a so-called Country Western band and found it difficult to concentrate on the details of his plan for later that evening. However, the main distraction wasn't the off-key tones of the rancid music, but the shapely ass of the blonde being maneuvered into his corner by her dance partner.
Wearing a long-sleeve white blouse and a short black skirt with cowboy boots, the woman had caught Jack's eye earlier in the evening during a line dance. Even from his booth, the sight of her smallish tits jiggling with her every movement and her nipples protruding from her thin blouse had kept his attention. She shared a table with two other women and, during the course of the evening, had danced with just about every male in the place except Jack. Of course, Jack hadn't asked her yet.
Now, she danced to a slow song just a couple feet away from him. She looked in her late thirties or early forties, had long legs, and a nice tight ass. Her constant smile gave Jack the impression she was two sheets to the wind. Both of her arms were draped around her partner's neck and his hands were firmly molded to her ass cheeks, his long fingers inching up her skirt while they just swayed in place.
As the song ended, she leaned her head against his chest. His body shielding his actions from almost everyone in the bar, he shifted his hands under her skirt and onto her sheer white panties. Jack had to slip his hand under the waistband of his slacks to adjust his instantly throbbing cock as he watched the guy slip his fingers under the elastic leg holes of the blonde's underpants. Then he pulled her panties down to just below her ass cheeks and pushed his hand into the crack of her ass, the action captivating Jack.
But all of a sudden, the woman shoved the guy's chest hard, forcing his hands from her ass, and went back to her table. Obviously stunned, the guy stood there for a second before ambling over to the bar.
When the band started playing another slow tune, Jack hastily readjusted himself down one leg of his trousers and ambled over to the woman.
"Would you like to dance?" Jack asked, knowing full well that the lady hadn't had a chance to pull her panties back up.
Even though he no longer smoked, the ravages of twenty plus years on the weed and spending a lot of time outdoors left Jack with a dark, leathery, lined face that made him look a little older than his forty-two years. Still, at five foot ten and one hundred eighty pounds, he was physically fit and his flashing smile made him look pretty damn good.
"Sure," the woman said, even though she'd just told her friends it was time to go home. But she thought this guy was kind of cute, so why not? Extending her hand to Jack, she said, "My name's Sharon."
"I'm Jack," he said, leading her onto the dance floor.
As he slowly maneuvered them around the floor, Jack put his hands on her hips and Sharon put her hands on his shoulders. Jack kept their torsos constantly swaying so her pert little breasts rubbed against his chest and his stiff cock rubbed against her lower stomach. Pulling her closer, Jack gradually guided her into the far dark corner of the bar.
"It must be difficult dancing with your panties pushed down to your thighs," Jack whispered in Sharon's ear. "If you promise not to jump and keep dancing with me, I'll pull them up for you."
Looking up at Jack's smiling face, Sharon stuttered, "H-how . . . did you know?"
"Secrets of the trade," Jack said quietly as his hands went under her skirt and grasped her panties. They were kind of bunched and twisted, so he had to move his hands from back to front and then back again until they were back in place. During this undertaking, Jack managed to stroke her pubic hair and the baby-soft skin of her ass with his long fingers.
"There, that should be better," Jack commented, sensually caressing her firm ass through her thin panties before returning his hands to her hips.
"Thank you. You're a considerate man. But I'm still curious how you knew about my predicament. Did you see that asshole I was dancing with take advantage of me?"
"I'll never tell," Jack said. "Are you ready for a twirl and a dip? The song's almost over. Here we go." Holding her right hand in his left, he twirled her around three times, each time letting his right hand fondle first one breast then the other. After the twirls, he positioned her crotch tightly against his thigh and plunged her into a deep dip. Once again upright, he planted a sloppy wet kiss on her lips and boldly grasped her right breast and tweaked her nipple.
"Thanks for the dance," Jack said as he led her back to her table. "It was fun."
"You're welcome. It was fun for me too, but I'd better get out of here and go home. You know, if I weren't married, I'd jump your bones. Your shifty hands got me all turned on."
"Me too, sweetie. Thanks again."
Chuckling to himself, Jack went back to his beer, so he could go over his plan for the rest the evening. The episode with the blonde had reinforced Jack's confidence in himself and his ability to do whatever he wanted. Which was a good thing, because Jack was about to knowingly break the law for the first time in his life.
For the past six years, Jack had been employed as an electrician with a security company, installing alarm systems. Two years ago, he and his wife of ten years agreed it was time to go their separate ways and with no children, it was an easy split. Since the divorce, Jack had been bored with both his life and his job. He'd been debating whether or not to quit his job and seek his fortune elsewhere when he heard how he could get an easy ten grand.
A wealthy man he met while installing a security system was willing to pay ten big ones -- no questions asked -- for a Super Bowl ring. And luckily, Jack knew where to get one. Late last year, he installed a security system in the home of an NFL quarterback, whose team had won the Super Bowl and who'd been elected the league's most valuable player.
Six months ago, Jack had set his plan in motion. He resigned from his job, sold his car, and moved out of his apartment, putting everything he wanted to keep in a rental storage unit. Then he took a two-week cruise through the Caribbean and shaved off the mustache and goatee he'd worn for the last fifteen years. Now he was back in town and he was positive even his own mother wouldn't recognize him.
Biding his time until after midnight, Jack had thought he'd have a few beers at a roadhouse bar less than a mile from the quarterback's home, which was located in a gated community. The sexy blonde had been a nice diversion, but now it was close to 1 AM, so Jack figured it was time to get going. Leaving the bar, he collected his gear from beneath a bush where he'd secreted it earlier and was on his way.
Keeping to the shadows and staying off the road, Jack ended up at the eight-foot high brick wall directly behind the quarterback's home. He unwrapped the twelve-foot long hunk of nylon rope he carried coiled around his waist, looped it over a protrusion on the wall, and hoisted himself up. With quiet effortlessness, he scaled the wall, swung himself over it, and lowered himself down onto the grass less than fifty yards from the house.
Now came the tricky part -- the only part that really worried Jack. He had to get to the house without being observed and there wasn't any other way but to brazen it out and move quickly. If someone inside looked out the window and spotted him, the caper was as good as over. Luck was with him, though, and less than two minutes later he had bypassed the alarm system and was standing in the kitchen.
The house was silent and dark. He made a quick check of all the rooms and found the only two occupants in the house were both sleeping soundly in the master bedroom. Although the light was dim, he could just make out the shape of the couple lying on their sides on the king-sized bed. He went over to the much larger form, who Jack assumed was the quarterback and shined his flashlight in the man's eyes.
When the man stirred, Jack aimed his thirty-eight revolver at him and commanded, "Roll over on your stomach and keep your hands on the outside of the covers. If you do as I say and just cooperate, no one has to get hurt."
With that, Jack took a step back and turned on the light in the bathroom. The light spread across the room and the quarterback's wife sat up and let out a little yelp.
"You just stay right where you are, sweetheart. No funny business or the both of you are dead meat. "
"He's got a gun, honey, so do as he says," the quarterback told his wife even as he wondered how this creep broke into his bedroom without him hearing. The wife didn't know what to think; she was just scared.
Keeping his gun trained on the couple, Jack went around the room turning on all the lights. No longer needing it, he put his flashlight down on the dresser and unwrapped the four equal lengths of rope he'd precut from around his waist.
"Here," he said, dropping the rope onto the wife's lap. "I want you to tie your husband to the bed. Face up." When she hesitated, Jack snapped, "Do it!"
"It's okay, honey," the quarterback said, slowly rolling over so she could follow Jack's order.
While Jack watched intently, the wife began tying the quarterback's arms and legs to each of the four bedposts.
"Make sure you tie him up good and tight," Jack instructed.
The brunette gave him a sharp glare over her shoulder, but then did as she was told.
"Very pretty," Jack said with just a twinge of sarcasm once the quarterback was secured spread-eagle on the bed. Apparently, the quarterback slept in the nude. His muscular body was fairly white, only his arms and head deeply tanned. His cock dangled down between his legs and to Jack it looked like a monster. Much bigger than his own six-incher.
"Maybe we ought to keep him covered," Jack said, instructing the wife to put the covers back over her husband.
The quarterback's wife was scared shitless. She had to pee so badly she felt she was about to go in her pajamas right there, standing beside the bed.
In her frantic state, she was completely unaware that all her feminine charms were on display. The soft, thin material of her silky, cream-colored pajamas conformed to all the hills and valleys of her spectacular figure, clearly outlining the shape of her bountiful breasts. She was a beautiful woman -- slim and just a little over average height -- but ever since she was thirteen, her breasts had been her most outstanding feature.
