Dancing for the Law
Copyright© 2025 by Ariana
Chapter 2
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 2 - "Dancing for the Law" is a true story from my time in Arkansas, where I worked at a BBQ restaurant. One of the owners constantly flirted with me. One afternoon, overwhelmed by desire, I finally gave in. This was my first experience having sex outside my marriage, and I was apprehensive about how Will would react when he found out.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual True Story Workplace Group Sex Massage Oral Sex
When I got to work in the morning and started preparing for the lunch crowd, Gerald acted, to my relief, the same as he did any other morning. He did the usual teasing of both Sharon and me.
During the next month, about once a week, I would slip out to his house for afternoon sex. It was always a win-win for me because when I told Will about the encounter, we would also have extra sex.
So, one Thursday, my story begins, and it is all true.
In the restaurant, there were two servers, Sharon and me. We were both slender and attractive, and we carried ourselves with confidence. Our friendship created a warm atmosphere as we moved through the busy kitchen and the lively conversations of hungry customers.
Two brothers ran the restaurant in their early thirties. They had a charming presence that made our work shifts feel more like fun gatherings with friends. We spent our days intimately teasing each other and laughing as we weaved between tables. Our main job was to deliver platters stacked high with delicious ribs and BBQ sandwiches.
Yet, reflecting on that time, I realize that the playful banter and easy familiarity we shared would likely be inappropriate in today’s workplace, highlighting just how much our societal norms have shifted.
One sunny afternoon at work, Gerald, in his typically playful manner, began cracking jokes about the idea of us table dancing. His laughter echoed as he spun a lighthearted tale, and I was caught up in the joking atmosphere and boldly declared that I would give it a try. Initially, Sharon seemed a bit reluctant; her brow furrowed, and a hint of uncertainty danced in her eyes. However, as the hours ticked by and the playful banter continued to fill the air, her resistance started to wane. By the end of our shift, with a mix of laughter and camaraderie, she finally relented, exclaiming, “Alright, I’ll do it if you’re doing it!” Our intentions seemed innocent enough; we believed we would entertain our colleagues with a fun and silly performance, thinking it would serve as a lighthearted distraction for the guys. The thought of dancing on a table, however, set our hearts racing with both excitement and nerves.
Wow! Were we wrong? You will never guess who our audience was.
The brothers began their mischievous endeavor by meticulously plastering every window with sheets of crinkled brown paper, creating a cocoon of secrecy around the party. As the atmosphere grew lively, we settled in, our glasses filled with rich red wine and chilled beer, laughter bubbling in the air. Suddenly, the scene shifted when a squad of sheriff’s deputies burst onto the scene, at least twenty strong, leaving the county shockingly unguarded—what a riot!
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