I finally saw my innocent wife on the dance floor while Susan was still taking on all comers. A couple of minutes later, I saw Trevante pass Abby off to a tall, skinny man with dark brown skin. The fashion critic smiled as he stepped away from her. I caught a brief glimpse of my stoned wife as her new dance partner pulled her back against his skinny chest. Thanks to her vigorous dancing with Trevante, my wife was dripping with sweat, and her tight chamise was plastered to her body like a second skin. Abby's pretty face displayed a bewildered expression. One of the spaghetti straps had fallen off her shoulder, leaving all but the nipple of one gorgeous breast exposed.
The translucent satin garment failed to hide either of her pink areoles surrounding the hard nipples poking into the thin chamise. I could even see the definition of her firm abdominal muscles resulting from a lifetime of athletic activity. Her pretty pussy was the only part of her body concealed by the wet satin stretched across the juncture of her thighs. The glimpse of my wife's sexy body instantly made my cock hard again. I grimaced from the ache in my overused balls.
Marcel's gay friend headed straight for the DJ, who immediately put on a slow number. The skinny guy turned my scantily-clad wife around in his arms and began a slow waltz around the floor to a romantic tune by Roberta Flack that was our special song.
"The first time ever I saw your face
I thought the sun rose in your eyes."
It didn't take the bastard long to slip his hand from my wife's waist to cup her voluptuous ass. What bothered me more was my wife encouraging him by wrapping her arms around her partner's neck and pressing her generous breasts against his chest. My ordinarily shy wife didn't offer the slightest resistance when he tilted her face back and pressed his lips to hers. He spun her around the dance floor, and for a moment, all I could see of my wife was the guy's back and her arms wrapped around his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, and a slight smile graced her lips when they broke the kiss.
I lost sight of them in the crowd for a few minutes and turned my attention to Susan, who was sandwiched between two burly black men. One of her partners was fucking into her pussy hard, and the other was taking her in the ass. They were slamming her cum covered body back and forth between the two of them while a third man was deep throating her. A pack of naked men had gathered around, waiting their turn.
When I caught sight of my drugged wife again, she had a new partner, who looked a lot bigger, rougher, and darker than Trevante. His cauliflower ears and misshapen nose suggested he might have been a heavy-weight boxer. He had one massive hand around Abby's neck, and the other was inside the slit up the side of her sheer chemise. I could see the silhouette of his dark hand massaging my wife's curvy ass.
My wife's eager partner brushed one of her spaghetti straps off her shoulder, exposing all her generous right breast for a moment. I don't know if it was intentional, but Abby raised her arms and locked them around his thick neck. This maneuver raised the strap, and I felt relief that her pale breast was covered again.
Her lips found his as she began grinding her hips against his crotch. I screamed into my gag when I saw the flash of a knife. The boxer slit one of her straps, and the sharp blade disappeared as fast as it appeared. He grinned as he peeled the satin fabric from her plump breast. His fingers found her hard nipple, and I shuddered at the memory of what I had learned on our honeymoon. I found out how sensitive my wife's breasts were when I managed to bring her to a sweet orgasm by playing with them alone.
I uttered a pitiful moan and jerked against my restraints when I saw the shadow of his hand slip down the crack of her ass. I struggled against my bonds when his black hand plunged between the juncture of her thighs. Abby broke the kiss and rose on her tiptoes. She tilted her head back, and I watched in horror as her dainty mouth made a gulping motion similar to a goldfish. It was a reaction I'd only seen when I got her intensely aroused with my finger in her wet pussy. I knew the bastard was finger-fucking my innocent wife when his hand began see-sawing between her jiggling ass cheeks.
His assault was visible to everyone on the dance floor since his hand had brushed the bottom of her chemise to one side. My wife's moans and squeals of intense arousal attracted the crowd's attention. People stopped dancing to watch her exposed ass cheeks wobble as the burly man ground his massive finger deep into her dripping wet pussy. My willing wife raised her right leg and rubbed the soft flesh of her inner thigh up and down his leg.
At the end of the song, Trevante introduced my wife to a new partner. She seemed confused as she pulled the top of her slip over her exposed breast, only to have it fall off as soon as she removed her hand. Her previous partner had pushed the back of her chemise up to her waist. The sheer sweaty satin clung to her skin, leaving her bare ass exposed. Before she could pull the bottom into place, her new partner pulled her back against his chest. One of his hands began mauling the tender flesh of her bare breast. His other hand slipped under the front of her chemise and started massaging her mound. Neither of them made any attempt at even the most basic dance move. Instead, Abby stood frozen in place as her partner explored the pleasures of her luscious body.
I was shocked at the sight of her hairless pussy between his invading fingers. I had wondered at the black hairs on my razor, but the idea that my conservative wife would shave off all her pubic hair had seemed unthinkable. Only a lot of wine and Susan's bullying could have convinced Abby to shave her pussy. My wife had laughed at me when I suggested a minor trim. Damn Susan. Damn that fucking bitch. That was my wife on display in a roomful of strangers.
For the next half hour or so, I alternated between watching Susan's gang bang and my wife dirty dancing with a series of rough partners. Most of the time, my wife was hidden by the throng crowding the dance floor. I caught an occasional glimpse of Abby's face that betrayed her growing arousal.
I was distracted for a moment watching a bouncer throw Susan out of the club. Her purse and cum soaked dress followed her naked body. I have to confess that I loved watching her struggle to her feet and pull on her dress. The last sight I had of the traitorous bitch was her staggering out to the street with a bow-legged gait and catching a waiting cab.
Marcel walked over and tapped Abby's current dance partner on the shoulder. The stranger disappeared into the crowd, and the big man pulled my sweaty, disheveled wife into his arms. My wife had pulled the bottom of the slip down at some point, but her generous breast was still on display.
The crowd on the dance floor stepped back into a circle to give the couple room. As Marcel spun my wife around, I got a view of her backside. Abby's barely concealed ass cheeks flexed delightfully. My wife had her arms wrapped around her partner's neck and pressed her lithe body against his tall, muscular form. The frayed braid of her long blond hair flew out as he raised his hand, and she spun around.
When he pulled her back into his arms, he kept one hand on her bare breast while slipping the other through the slit of her dress. Everyone could see the outline of his coal-black hand grasping her bare ass cheek. I was shocked that my wife responded by grinding her hips against the growing bulge in his slacks.
