Chapter 1: Narrated by Bill Williams

For our fifth wedding anniversary I took Pam, my wife to the theater and then out to dinner in the big city. I had booked a room in one of the fancy hotels down town for a romantic weekend. After dinner we decided to have a drink at the hotel bar before going up to our room and doing the mattress mamba.

Neither me nor my wife drink very much she had a glass of wine and I had a rum and coke. As we are sitting there I hear a familiar voice say “Bill? Bill Williams, is that you?”

I turned around and I see Dave Hays, guy I know from work. He’s a salesman and he comes by the company where I work once a month or so and takes our orders and generally shoots the shit with us. I don’t always see him when he comes to the company as I am not in procurement, but I do see him occasionally when I am consulted on a specific item that he may want to furnish.

Anyway here he was at this hotel bar, miles from where I usually see him and he has a couple of other salesmen with him. My wife and I soon learn that they are staying at the same hotel. I introduce Dave to my wife and he introduces us to the other two men.

Pam and I are in our late twenties whereas Dave and his companions are in their late forties or fifties. It’s hard to tell Dave’s age, because he keeps himself in such good shape and is what I would call a very attractive man. You know the type, square jaw, piercing blue eyes and just a touch of grey at the temples.

Without asking, Dave and his pals, Frank and George, pull up chairs to our table and join us. Frank is similar to Dave in looks and body type, but George is much heavier. I would guess him at around three hundred pounds and maybe five foot ten inches tall. He is a big round balding guy.

Anyway they ordered more drinks and they took turns telling stories and dirty jokes. Each story or joke a little more risqué than the one preceding. We were having a good time and Pam was laughing so much her sides hurt and she was begging them to stop telling jokes.

Fortunately for Pam a band took the stage and started playing some great dance music. Now I don’t like to dance because I feel like I don’t know how and I’m just making a fool out of myself out there, but my wife loves to dance so I do dance with her when she begs me too.

When the band started up she gave me that look that said, ‘Please, please dance with me. So I drug my ass out of my chair and I danced a couple of tunes with her.

When we came back Dave asked me if it would be alright if he danced with my wife.

I told him. “Ask her. She’s a big girl.”

Of course she jumped at the chance to dance with him and off they went. Dave is a fantastic dancer. They stayed out there for several songs. I noticed that they touched each other occasionally. Sometimes on the arm or just bumped incidentally. One time they did this dirty dancing thing that Pam used to do where each dancer puts a leg between the others leg almost up to the crotch.

They were laughing and gyrating and having what looked like a wonderful time. I was pleased that she was having fun. I am not the jealous type and their touching and suggestive dancing made watching them that much more enjoyable.

As soon they came back to the table Pam gulped down one of several drinks that the men had bought her because she was parched from the dancing. Then she started to sit down, that’s when Frank jumped up and pulled her very willing body back onto the dance floor. Frank couldn’t dance as well as Dave and his hands were on Pam much more than Dave’s were, but she didn’t seem to mind him touching her, besides it all seemed so incidental.

While Frank had her on the dance floor they played a slow song and he took my wife in his arms and pulled her close to him. At first she kind of leaned her upper body away from him, but I could tell it was awkward for her, so she just went with it and she put both arms around his neck as he wrapped both arms around her waist.

It didn’t take long for his hands to drift down to her ass and at first his hands were just resting on her rear, but after a few minutes he had a cheek in each hand and was squeezing them like they were a couple of oranges and he was the minute Maid Man.