On the Dance floor: Megan Awakened
The DJ played like a boss; for a young man, twenty five or thereabout, he knew his oldies and was giving it to us full blast. I sat in a chair against the wall in the dark living room cum dancehall. The chairs on either side of me were empty, their status for most of the past two hours, since the sticking of the birthday cake had ended and the lights dimmed -- more like turned off -- for the only light came from the DJ's corner, shining down on his equipment which was about ten feet from where I was sitting. It was a surprise birthday party arranged for my forty-five year old cousin, Denise, by her husband. The guests were a mixed bunch of about fifty persons ranging in ages between late teens to late sixties, mostly family and good friends.
Instead of enjoying the oldies being played by the capable DJ, Kelvin, who was Denise's son, I was fuming and craning my neck towards the center of the room where it seems all of the fifty or so guests, young and old were dancing, except for me. I was trying to make out, in the dark, my drunkard husband who I knew from the way he'd been hitting the bottle since we arrived, before the sticking of the cake, was by now, as the local saying went, 'pissing drunk'. The son of a bitch had been shamelessly hitting on ladies all night -- much younger ladies -- and was probably out on the dance floor grinding his drunken body against one of them.
The thought of my husband having illicit fun while I sat there all by myself, had me all worked up and seeing red. I'd only had two dances all night, one with a stranger that I didn't care to dance with again because of him being so terrible at slow dancing and the other with an older uncle who surprised me with a hard on that kept 'accidentally' bumping my thigh. The stranger had asked me to dance twice again, but I refused. The uncle was too busy touring the flesh market.
I couldn't understand it, I'm a good looking forty-three year old, thick and pretty woman; dressed sexily in tight, black, soft and stretchy pants that hugged me close all the way down to where it stopped just above my ankles which led down to high heeled, silver, strap sandals on my mid-brown feet. My top was also close-fitting -- a bright navy, armless, waist length blouse with a severe V that showed a lot of cleavage. My black hair was in its recently cut and styled, short, curly afro, and I knew that my full pouty lips were looking vampish under deep red lipstick. But it seems that for some reason the males in the party saw me as out of bounds or something. I chose to blame it on my husband's obnoxious behavior, and I was mad.
I'd been sipping on a glass of Bentley's, only my second drink for the night, I'm not much of a drinker. I raised the half-full glass to my mouth and downed it in one go. Within seconds I felt the rush to my head. Directly in front of me a few feet away, my twenty-two year old daughter, Babs was locked in close embrace with one of her older cousins, her plump ass, sitting nicely on a body that was a less thick version of mine, rolled seductively under the short, shiny red skirt. I was glad she was backing me and I wasn't looking at their side profile, for I sensed that the young man was way deep between her spread legs; how deep I didn't want to see. Next to them an equally young couple of strangers, were really going at it; grinding against each other passionately.
With my eyes fastened on the bodies of the gyrating couple I leaned to the side to put away my empty glass on the floor. The back of my hand touched a bottle. I picked up the beer bottle that was almost full. I recalled that my fifty-year old sister, Una, who'd been sitting next to me had only taken a sip or two before getting up to go dance with one of our nephews half her age, some six or seven songs ago. I quickly convinced myself that by the time she got back the beer would be too warm and flat and she'd likely go for a fresh one. I put the bottle to my mouth and swallowed half of its close to warm content. When the next song started my daughter was nimbly and deliberately, I think, led into the crowd out of my view.
I kept my eyes on the unconcerned young couple and realized that I was feeling a familiar heat between my thick thighs and a tingling on the nipples of my B-cup, cone shaped breasts, thinking, 'damn, girl Megan, you're as horny as a bitch dog in heat' and rightly so too! My husband hadn't fucked me in more than six months. We'd had a nasty row about his drinking and infidelity, and from that night he kept himself close to his side of the bed, even though after about three days I would roll over to get close to him in an effort to mend things. When two weeks passed and I realized he was showing no interest in my pussy, I got mad, and vowed that I was not going to be the one to initiate sex. And just like that the weeks became months. I clamped my legs tight together as I downed the remaining beer in one quick drag, giggling at the thought of my big sis reaching for an empty bottle on her return.
Think of the devil! I looked up after putting away the bottle and there in front of me wrapped up with her nephew was my sis, and they were really grinding -- not as vigorously as the young couple, but grinding away never the less. I felt myself getting hotter as my eyes lingered on family having some sexy fun. When the song ended they came apart and walked toward me smiling, the nephew's hand discreetly in front of his crotch. He gave me a quick nod and a smile and disappeared.
"Whew! Girl I hot ... I gotta to go get a drink to cool down ... you want something too Megan?" Una asked, fanning her neck with her hands and looking down at my empty hands
"Yes, thanks, I'm hot too," I replied, still in something of a daze after looking at all that dry-humping.
"Wha you want, a beer or something stiffer?" Una asked, giggling, as she got to her plump feet. She was heavier than me, more on the fat side, but still with some shape.
"Whateva you havin," I replied.
Una skipped away friskily, a sweet smile on her round face. She returned with something definitely 'stiffer', it tasted like rum and coke. After we both took a swig she leaned over and placed her mouth close to my ear.
"Ah wanted to bring de whole damn bottle, but there was other people in de kitchen," she said, giggling.
Shortly after, my son Clark appeared. Bending over and placing one hand on my shoulder and the other on his aunt's he said.
"What you two beautiful old girls doing sitting here all alone while everybody else dancing?"
"Old! Yuh talking about yuh mother ... I look old to you?" Una quickly replied, rolling her eyes before breaking into loud laughter.
"We was waiting on you to come and ask we to dance," I said.
Clark immediately straightened up, pulling Una up with him.
"Ah coming for you next wallflower, I hear you aint dance for the night," my son said, looking at me.
"You got fake news from somebody," I said, laughing as they moved away to the dancing area.
Una immediately wrapped her fat arms around Clark and he quite willingly let his muscular body sink into her ample softness as she leaned her face into his shoulder, his chin resting on the top of her head. She began to roll her big fluffy body in time with his. I sat there throughout two songs, watching my son and my sister take, not too subtle liberties with each other's bodies to the enticing sounds of slow old soul. I found myself thinking that I must have missed the switch somewhere along the line over the years. I didn't know that family danced like this these days. I finished my drink. They returned, and my eyes immediately travelled to the direction of my son's crotch; as I expected, he was unmistakably aroused; not even the dim lighting could hide the slightly downward slanting bump across his right thigh.
