Those White Jeans Ch. 01

"Of course!"

Several minutes of patience were required to be served at the bar, so I looked around. Over my shoulder I could see a line of people had formed outside the door, waiting to get in. Soon I got another IPA and shuffled my way back to the table. Lisa and Chris were no longer right in front of it, as the flow of the crowd had sent them drifting inward, and a small stream of people had pooled between us. No matter; at least nobody had claimed the table. I sat down to enjoy my beer and some people-watching.

Not long afterward, by some luck in my favor the crowd parted to reveal Lisa's whole figure as she danced, facing away from me. Her movements were sharply timed to the rhythm. With those white jeans tugging at those oscillating hips, my eyes fixed to her perfect little ass as it moved and the slender athletic legs that supported it. Lisa threw her hands skyward, and again I was treated to the fine view of those dimples on her lower back, just above the low waistline of those white jeans. My goodness, what a beautiful and sexy woman!

As dancers converged, obstructing my view, I saw Chris's hands slip around her, covering those dimples so low on her back. I looked up to see Chris smiling broadly as he said something to Lisa, and I saw the bill of her cap pointed straight upward. With that, my view of them was gone.

Well, I thought, they are dancing, so naturally they're going to touch each other. Think nothing of it. But at the same time, and for the first time with Lisa, I suddenly felt a tinge of jealousy. I could see in my mind what his eyes were now seeing, which is Lisa at her cutest. Right now she was blessing him instead of me with that tunnelized view of her face under the curve of her cap's bill. He was the one, not me, who could now see those cute little freckles on her nose and those blue eyes that somehow remained bright even underneath the shade of that baseball cap.

Besides that, he's the one with his hands pressed against the bare skin of her lower back as their bodies move together to the music's rhythm. At this moment he can feel for himself how tightly drawn the muscles of her abdomen are. Heck, with how high her T-shirt was pulled when she raised her hands, he's probably seen that abdomen, too - that flat belly decorated with a small navel buried deeply in its center.

As I could no longer see Lisa through the crowd, my imagination took over. Oddly enough, it returned to the vision of Lisa chair-dancing next to me, rocking side to side. Then she was naked, still rocking side to side, legs spread around the chair as they had been. Then her movement redirected to rocking forward and backward, forward and backward, the way she would ride me when we fuck.

My dick hardened with my thoughts, and the alcohol certainly wasn't helping. I decided to establish a clear view to Lisa again to prevent my imagination from dwelling on sexual visions of her. I needed to ground myself in the "PG" reality that existed just a few rows into this crowd of dancers. So I stood up and searched among the heads of dancers for theirs. Lucky for me, while I'm not the tallest guy around, I'm still taller than most.

Soon I spotted the back of Chris's head. It appeared to be tilted forward, indicating to me that he was still looking downward toward Lisa as they danced. As the dancers between us moved about, I caught a glimpse of something I didn't see before: Lisa's hands resting on top of his shoulders. Again I rationalized it, as they are dancing, and that's very common hand placement for a woman dancing with a man. But it still cut me a little to witness it.

Chris's head then dipped down and out of view for a second, then rose again, although still tilted toward Lisa. Was he repeating a comment that she didn't hear before, only this time closer to her ear? Maybe. Then Chris's head dipped down and out of view again. A few seconds passed. Lisa's left hand departed Chris's right shoulder and disappeared out of view, and a moment later, Chris's head rose, but again remained tilted. A few more seconds, and then Chris's head leveled, Lisa's right hand withdrew from his left shoulder, and it seemed that Chris began making his way toward the far side of the dance floor. I could see some bodies part to make space for Lisa as she squeezed her way back toward me. I grabbed my beer and took a sip to appear all relaxed as she returned, despite how I felt inside. I smiled happily at her as she approached.

"Hey! How's it going?" I asked.

"Great! This is so much fun. And Chris is such a good dancer!"

"Oh yeah? That's good. I'm glad you are enjoying yourself."

"Does that mean you're bored? I'm sorry, it was just for a few songs, though."

"No, no, don't misunderstand me. That's not at all a commentary on how I'm doing. I'm actually doing just fine here. This beer is fantastic and I'm catching up on my people-watching. I'm genuinely glad you are enjoying yourself."

"OK. Thank you! You're the best! So check this out: Chris just told me that I can get us a round of drinks at the bar using his name, and the bartender will hook us up for free. How cool is that?"

"That is very cool, but I'm good for now, just sipping at this beer."

"Well, Chris just went to the bathroom, so I'm going to go get myself another drink, then I'll be back, OK?"

"Sounds good."

I sat at the table and took a deep breath. Everything was fine, I told myself. I needed to keep my imagination in check and stick to the facts as I see them, nothing more. I sipped my beer and looked around for a while, thinking positive thoughts and feeding my happiness. But as I think about it now, my mind then was cloudy from the alcohol, and thinking clearly was proving to be troublesome.

Several more minutes passed, and I decided to go and see if Lisa is having difficulty receiving service at the bar. At first I didn't see her anywhere. But then I spotted her down at the far end, seated on a backless bar stool, her back toward me. I was not at all surprised to see Chris there with her, standing at the bar on her opposite side, just next to her, getting a drink. Once again I tried to rationalize to myself that there is nothing to see here, but then the people standing between us realigned to allow a glimpse of exactly how Lisa was seated. Those white jeans were wholly visible in sharp contrast to the darkness of the bar. They were stretched tight against her slim legs, but wrinkled and gathered where those legs met that cute little ass, the fabric bunched-up because those legs were spread wide around the spot where Chris stood, her feet resting on a metallic rung high underneath the seat.

My stomach knotted. I moved to get a better view. Chris was standing there in the space between my wife's knees. Surely both were aware, but neither appeared to acknowledge it. As they spoke, he turned toward her, no doubt to plant the idea in her head that his crotch was now in line with hers as she remained splayed before him. But they both still played it cool as they traded conversation.

Then Lisa upped the game again, or at least that's how it looked to me. She raised her arms high above her head in an apparent stretch, then lowered them, placing them behind her ass on her stool and arching her back to complete the stretch. She looked away from Chris as she did this to give him the opportunity to look without getting caught, and from what I could see, he didn't miss one bit of the show. But Lisa didn't stop there. Next she removed her hands from behind her, then slid her ass backward as she replaced her hands on the stool between her thighs, assuming a stiff-armed posture that propped her body up as she leaned toward Chris. With her back still arched, her T-shirt lifted from her beltline and the slack of her jeans pulled away so far that I could see not just those dimples on her lower back that I loved so much, but also those white cotton panties below. The bill of her baseball cap turned sharply upward as she looked up to his face.

Chris smiled down at her and said a few words, then took his drink away from the bar and walked off into the crowd. Lisa then stepped off her barstool, and made a movement that suggested she would be coming back to the table rather than following Chris, so I quickly slid through the crowd to reclaim the table. I was thankful that my beer's presence there did the job of holding the table for me. I sat down, took a sip, and tried desperately to collect my thoughts.

At this point, I thought, I did indeed have solid evidence that Lisa's flirtation had risen to a level far beyond anything I had ever seen from her before. More than that, it is very likely that she has crossed the line into attempting to engage in some extramarital activities. And it is also possible that she has actually already engaged in those activities, depending on what transpired outside the limitations of my view. Dammit, is this really the case? Is it just the alcohol messing with me? Or messing with her? Lisa rejoined me at the table, interrupting my thoughts as I tried to make them coherent.

"That took forever! The bar is so busy!" she said.

"Yeah, it is. Cheers!" I raised my glass, and she hers, and we sipped our drinks together.

Lisa started talking to me about what we would do tomorrow, our last full day in the city, but I could hardly pay attention. My feelings of jealousy were somehow fueling my horniness. As she talked, I responded appropriately, but as my eyes looked into hers I was no longer really listening to her voice, instead imagining that she was stripping her clothes off in front of me. I couldn't help but remind myself that she is not wearing a bra, and that her top is covered only by that flimsy, small, navy blue T-shirt. Then I pictured her standing up from her chair and swinging a leg over my lap to straddle me, topless, wearing only those white, form-fitting jeans. I could almost feel her crotch grinding against mine as we passionately kissed, right there on my chair in the midst of that bar. I could almost taste her nipple as I imagined my tongue circling it.

My dick was again hardening as Lisa spoke to me, but I wasn't able to stop it now. My mind took a turn to what I had just witnessed at the far end of the bar. Again I could see Chris standing between Lisa's legs as it actually happened, but then my imagination forced a dramatic edit. Lisa closed her legs around Chris and pulled him toward her. He leaned his face down to hers, and there at the bar, right in front of me, the two of them kissed deeply. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, and welcomed his tongue into hers.

I swear my heart punched my ribcage when this image crossed my mind. I think I heard my blood actually coursing through my ears. My gut twisted and hollowed. But what I felt most of all was an ache deep in my groin.

The preoccupation with my feelings surged, as I was not just insanely jealous and extremely turned-on, but also frightened and confused as a result. Why, why, why did I want so badly to have an orgasm right now? Why does the image of my wife making out with Chris make me want to tear her clothes off and fuck her so hard right here on this table in the middle of the bar? Shouldn't I feel anger instead? Where is my anger? Where anger should be, all I felt was pure lust.

"Hey guys!" Chris had returned.

Lisa looked ecstatic as she responded, "Hey, where have you been?"

"Oh, I was hanging out with a few friends over there for a while. Look, I'm about to head out. One more dance before I go?"

This time neither of them looked to me for permission. This was a question posed by Chris directly to Lisa, and Lisa wasted no time in accepting.

"Be right back!" she said to me before taking Chris's hand and disappearing into the crowd in tow behind him.

Was I really able to play it so cool that she did not suspect I knew what was happening between them? I guess so. She was surely just as drunk as I was, so she wasn't thinking straight, either. She had no idea how much I knew. Taking advantage of that, I departed the table and made my way around the dance floor to find them. I had to see what would happen. It didn't take long to spot them, and I slid into the crowd to draw near, dancing by myself to blend in as well as I could.

I approached the pair from Lisa's right side because it was the side they would least likely see me. If Chris had been leaning down to talk close to Lisa's ear, then it appeared he already had the habit of speaking into her left ear, which meant that he wouldn't see me on the opposite side, to Lisa's right. As for Lisa, that baseball cap blocked most of her peripheral vision, and if my suspicion of them was justified, then her attention would be drawn to him almost exclusively, anyway. Allowing for just one layer of people between us, I gave myself an acceptable view of their activities through the space between another couple's dancing bodies.

Lisa and Chris had beaten me to this spot only by a few seconds, so at first there was nothing going on more than just dancing. I moved to the music in a manner that permitted clandestine short glances in their direction, to reduce the possibility I'd draw attention. Within a few glances, I saw that Lisa had placed her hands upon Chris's shoulders again, basically picking up where they left off the last time they danced. And shortly after that, Chris leaned his head downward, and my question of what he was doing the last time he did this was now answered. He was certainly not whispering in her ear.

They were kissing. The kisses were light and with closed mouths, unlike what I had imagined earlier. They broke it off for a moment, but then kissed again the same way. Seemingly satisfied, Chris lifted his head straight again and smiled down at Lisa. I could see her broad smile from underneath her cap, which was pointed directly up at him. But then Lisa's smile faded, and a moment later she slid her hands from his shoulders to the back of his neck to pull him down toward her again.

My wife and Chris opened their mouths to one another as their lips met, and it felt as if someone had punched my stomach, it hurt so much. My previous suspicions were confirmed. My imagination had been trying to tell me something. Despite my twisting gut, I couldn't take my eyes off them. The urgency of their kissing grew. My cock became a hot, burning lump of solid rock, and it ached to fuck my wife raw. It hurt, but I looked on. I needed to see how far she and Chris would go. How messed up am I, I thought.

So I watched them, pretending not to. To everyone around, I was just some weirdo dancing by himself in the middle of the dance floor. Little did they know that I was actually watching my wife in what could be the early stages of a sexual encounter with a guy she met not even a couple hours ago.

Her hands remained around the back of his neck as their kissing grew more aggressive. Sometimes I could see their tongues as they met between their mouths. Her tongue is so small, I thought. She is always able to get me hard with her kissing when she wants. All she has to do is flex her tongue so that it stiffens and narrows, then rapidly and repeatedly swipe it across my tongue. I wondered if she was doing that to him. As that thought crossed my mind, as if on cue, he gasped for air from sudden arousal. Yes, that's precisely the reaction I have experienced at the mercy of Lisa's hard little tongue.

In response, his hands immediately dropped from her lower back to the underside of her ass, using the newfound leverage to pull her entire body into his. Their bodies still rocked back and forth to the music, but they were no longer dancing. The small, firm cheeks of Lisa's ass fit neatly into Chris's large hands, just as they do with mine. He squeezed and pulled her pelvis hard against him, then relaxed, allowing it to drift away. Then he did it again. And again. No doubt the feeling of his hard cock pressed against her belly compelled him.

A probing hand made its way up Lisa's back, under her T-shirt. If he didn't know it before, he knew it now, that she was braless. Whether or not he would find a way to make use of that information there on the dance floor remained to be seen. Regardless, Lisa either didn't notice or didn't care what that hand did.

The hand returned to Lisa's ass. Chris pulled her pelvis toward him again, and then again, and then I observed Lisa shift her body slightly to the right as she slid her left foot between his and the right foot to the outside. When he pulled her into him again, I understood what she had done. She had lined up her crotch to press against his hard thigh. He was too tall for her pussy to line up with his cock in a standing position, so she wasn't feeling the full benefit of their bodies pressing together when he pulled her to him. This was about to change, sure enough. When he next pulled her ass toward him, she supplemented the motion by rolling the base of her pelvis forward. His leg slid tightly between her legs, and her pussy pressed against it, dragging along, up and then down. She broke their kissing to catch her breath, and by the look on her face, my wife's clitoris was now experiencing heightened stimulation upon Chris's upper thigh.

In a moment of clarity, I wondered why I seemed to be the only person on the dance floor aware of these two going at it. The dark does provide some cover, but eyes adjust to that. The dance floor is crowded, limiting the number of people who would be able to see, but there are still some with a view. I looked around for a better answer, but all I could come up with is that most people aren't really looking around the dance floor, instead staying focused only on their respective partners. Or maybe, I supposed, some people did notice, but the polite thing to do is to simply ignore it. As for me, at this particular time, I mostly wanted to pull out my dick, stroke it furiously, and cum while I watched Lisa get off.

My wife and Chris continued their humping, still oblivious to my presence. I had pretty much begun staring by then, because they certainly weren't going to look around. They were lost to themselves for now. Lisa's hands remained wrapped behind Chris's neck even though they had traded kissing for breathing, but then I saw her far hand glide down over his chest. I supposed she realized she hadn't previously given herself the pleasure of touching him there, a supposition proven incorrect when her hand continued on its path downward. I couldn't see exactly what she was doing, but she was definitely feeling his cock through his pants.

I thought I heard Lisa whimper. I couldn't be sure, as her head was now pressed against his chest and facing away from me. Plus the music was loud. But then she leaned back, creating a space between their upper bodies, as he persisted in driving her pelvis back and forth, back and forth along his leg. No longer interested in kissing, intimacy ceased between them. Now they were both only interested in the business of his cock and her pussy. With her leaning back, I could see her left hand stroking the outline of his cock through his dark baggy jeans. I could also see the white denim V of her crotch push up and down along his thigh.

I heard Lisa whimper again. I was sure this time, despite the music. I knew what that meant. Lisa's hips fell out of sync with the music, her pace increasing slightly. Chris, grappling her cute little ass cheeks authoritatively, pulled harder and faster in response. Any sense of self-control was abandoned. If it weren't for their clothes, they'd really be fucking right now, in front of everyone here. Lisa whimpered again and she visibly gasped for air. They had hit the spot. Her left arm pumped in a frenzy on Chris's cock, apparently in an irrational effort to make him cum together with her. What a thought: my wife wanted to make Chris cum. I almost had an orgasm just then.