Chapter 3

“Our ears were burning. You must have been talking about us,” Linda smiled, accepting her drink from Harry.

“We were comparing your techniques in fucking,” Harry grinned, sitting with her.

“And your cock sucking methods,” Dan added, handing Amy her drink.

“I hope you two approve of our sexual abilities,” Amy smiled, taking a sip of her drink.

“We certainly do.”

Harry and Linda sat close together, holding hands. He enjoyed the view down her very low dress. She whispered to him, and he nodded his agreement.

“I think tonight, Amy would perform better as your slut wife if Harry wasn’t here. We’ll go to another part of the room to have our sexy fun and see you later.” Linda kissed Dan and led Harry out of their view.

“Are you as nervous as you were last night?” Dan asked, hugging her side closer.

“Not really. I want to be a good slut wife for you. What would you like me to do for you, for us?”

“I’ll let you decide for a while. Use your imagination, your fantasy, sexy imagination.”

“Okay. I’ll bring back a guy to fuck me.”

“That’s my girl!”

Amy searched her purse for several quarters, kissed him, then walked toward the jukebox. Many men and several women looked at her slender figure, barely covered by her sexy dress. She stood there, the different coloured neon lights reflecting on her.

She looked over the list of songs, then a moment later, felt a presence close to her. She looked at him with their height difference, his advantage looking down her dress at her very low cleavage. With a glance, she thought he might be in his late twenties.

“Looking for a particular song?” He asked.

“Sexual Healing, or is it I Want Your Sex, by Marvin Gay, or I’m in you, by Peter Frampton.”

“I wouldn’t mind being in you,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“I better not repeat it. You might slap my face.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” she smiled, his eyes looking down her dress.

“I said, I wouldn’t mind being in you.”

“You’d have to ask my husband, maybe he will let you in me,” she smiled. “Like what you see?”

“Very much! You are going back a long time, song wise. I’m in you, was the title of an album by Peter Frampton. I Want your Sex, was sung by George Michael. Sexual Healing is right there,” he pointed.

He reached across her, his arm brushing her breast as he held a quarter over the coin slot. “The song is my favour, if you’ll dance it with me, providing you husband doesn’t mind.”

“What makes you think I’m married?”

“The glitter of the rings on your left hand.”

“My husband won’t mind if you dance with me. He enjoys me dancing with men, especially to slow, sexy songs. I’m Amy.”

“I’m Chad,” he replied, dropping in the coins.

“I bet you are!” She sighed, taking his tall physique.

As the song started, he took her in his arms. Others joined them on the floor to enjoy dancing to the song. Her breasts flattened to his chest. His hands moved up and down her back.

“You can feel that I’m not wearing a bra. Move your hand lower and you’ll discover I’m not wearing any panties,” she thought. As they moved to the song, she could feel his knee press against her pussy, and she liked it.