What He Wouldn't Give for Her

This story is a tough one to categorize. There are elements of exhibitionism, cheating, domination and entitlement. All the characters have flaws that lead them into a dangerous game. A young married couple deal with amorous attention from a powerful admirer and the wife finds him hard to resist.

Jeff's story

It was a company dance party. My band had been hired to play for their dancing pleasure. It was held at The Drake, a very prestigious club in downtown Grantham. Our wives and girlfriends were invited to come along and enjoy the evening as well. It doesn't happen often, so it was nice to have them join us.

We were well into our first set and the house was rocking. Margaret, my wife, sat at the table reserved for the band with the ither wives. They danced with each other and drank large glasses of wine. It was always a treat to watch my Margaret on the dance floor. She was tall, at 5 foot 9 inches, a stunning brunette with an amazing figure. As a musician, I had to get used to watching her dance since I was often providing the music she danced to.

A tall, very well dressed man had walked up behind her chair. He leaned forward and spoke to her. She turned her head toward him, nodded, and let him lead her to the dance floor.

I had become somewhat anesthetized to men dancing with her, but there was something about this guy. He was exactly Margaret's type. At a guess I'd say he was well over 6 ft tall, short haired, well-groomed, clean shaven and well dressed in a dark suit. He was broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip. I always thought men looked dorky when they danced to fast songs but this guy carried it off.

They stayed up for two fast songs but our next number was a slow ballad. Margaret smiled at him and turned to go back to the table. The handsome stranger reached out to her, placing a hand in her shoulder. She turned to him and he spread his arms to her. She paused but then walked back to him and they danced.

One of our "guidelines" when at an event like this is to avoid slow dances. It isn't a hard and fast rule but it is damn close. I can't tell you how horrible it feels to watch the woman you love dance in another man's arms. It is even worse when you are playing the music that they are dancing to, it makes you feel like an enabler. To add a further element of danger to the situation, Margaret has a problem. Drinking changes her personality. When she is sober she is a lovely demure woman. When she drinks too much she becomes a reckless, risk taking slut.

My eyes were glued to them. They spoke to each other as they danced. She laughed at whatever he said. She held him close. He was a good dancer. The song came to an end. She smiled and they parted, both returning to their respective tables. We had one more song to get through before the set ended.

I watched as the women at her table ribbed her about her dance partner, I could see her blushing. She looked up at me and smiled but there was caution in that smile. Yes, she knew she had pushed a "guideline". We finished the set, I got a club soda and joined her at the table.

"Having some fun tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah, you guys are great!

"You were dancing up a storm."

"Yes, it was fun"

"So who is he?"

"His name is Norman. I don't know anything else."

"Tall and handsome too. Better be careful. Remember our guidelines on slow dancing. Maybe ease up on the wine."

"You have nothing to worry about. Just keep playing that sweet music."

Margaret's story

I loved watching my husband play in his band but I didn't get the chance as often as I would like. Tonight is one of those rare occasions. I made up my face and wore one of Jeff's favourite dresses. It was shape enhancing and a little bit daring in the amount of décolletage it showed. The skirt portion was flouncy and loose; very girly!

The band was really firing on all cylinders tonight. About halfway through the set a man asked me to dance. I would have turned him down but he was so handsome and he just had this presence about him. It was a fast song so why not.

He reminded me of a young Roger Moore. Actually he looked a little like my husband but about 6 inches taller and more muscular and toned. His suit was very fine and could not have been bought off the rack, it was tailored to fit.

Jeff and I agreed that dancing was cool but slow dances should be avoided, so when a slow song came up I said thanks for the dance and turned around to go back to the table. He touched my shoulder. I turned to see him holding his arms wide, smiling. Oh crap. I knew I should not dance with him but I folded myself into his arms.

He was an amazing dancer. It was so easy following his every move. He told me his name was Norman and he hoped I was having a good time at his party. He said that he loved to dance, especially with lovely ladies like me.

I laughed and told him, "That is probably the worst pickup line I have heard in ages."

He laughed too.

"Sorry, I am out of practice and I never was much good at them."

I knew the song was in it's last verse. I laid my head against his chest. The fabric of his suit was the finest wool I have ever felt against my skin. It was so soft. His scent was mix of sandalwood and vetiver, very old school. I felt him holding me closer and enjoyed that sensation. The song ended and it was over, the bubble burst.

Back at the table the others were grilling me about who he was, then Jeff came to the table.

Jeff's story

The second set was well underway and Margaret was right, the band was on fire tonight.

Margaret and the other women danced together for the first two songs. She sat out the third but her earlier gentleman asked her to dance again. Once again his timing seemed perfect, it was a fast song but there were two slow ones coming up.

When they held each other for the slow dance it looked different than the first time. They seemed more at ease. It seemed more intimate. I tried to concentrate on the music and my playing but my attention kept creeping back to the two of them on the floor.

We started the second slow song, a real crowd pleaser. I think nearly everyone had danced to the tune at some time in their lives. He saw her put her head against his chest and she smiled, eyes closed. He brought a hand up to her head and he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Margaret pulled away from him sharply and then spoke something to him. She was pointing at me. He looked at me and grinned. He said something to her and they finished the dance.

When the set finished I sat with Margaret.

"So what was that all about?"

"Norman crossed a boundary that he shouldn't have. He kissed my head while dancing. I told him I was married and my husband was in the band. He apologized to me. Oh look, he is coming over."

He walked up to me and extended his hand in greeting.

"Hi, I am Norman Baxter, Baxter Industries. I want to apologize for my actions on the dance floor with your wife. She is a very beautiful woman and I thought she was single since she was sitting with a group of women."

The man towered over me. He stood in close enough that it made me crane my neck to look him in the eyes. He was big as hell.

"Baxter Industries, as in our hosts this evening?"

"Yes, my company."

"Look Norman, first of all thank you for hiring our band. Second of all, I don't mind you dancing with Margaret here as long as you remember that she is my wife and you treat her accordingly."

"Got it. Margaret, I look forward to dancing again later tonight."

He went back to his table.

"You sure know how to draw the big ones Margaret."

"Hey, I drew you didn't I?" She smiled.

"I love you, but please don't tease or encourage Norman. I think he has the hots for you and he is just your type."

"No worries my love. Now get up there and play your heart out."

Margaret's story

Jeff was right. Norman was exactly my type. I had to be on my guard. But still, i wanted to party tonight!

I was on my fourth enormous glass of wine when I felt nature calling. I headed off to the ladies room.

As I opened the door to leave I stepped out into the hallway. Norman pulled me into an embrace and kissed me. With four glasses of wine clouding my judgement my immediate reaction was to return the kiss. That had the immediate effect of fueling Norman into deepening the kiss. By the time my thinking brain corrected my lizard brain. We had kissed passionately for a considerable time.

"Fuck!" I said as we pulled apart.

"Only if you are sure you really want to." Said Norman with a devilish smile.

"No! Fuck as in...what the fuck are you doing! Didn't my husband make it clear to you? I am not fair game."

"Your husband is busy and will be for a while. Come on let's dance."

I don't know what is wrong with my head. I should have told him then to fuck off and leave me alone but he was our host and he was also as drunk as I was, and as horny as I was too.

He led me to the dance floor and we danced.

Jeff's story

I lost track of her for a while somewhere in the middle of the third set. Yes I was worried. The dance floor was filled with writhing bodies as we played some good old rock and roll.

I saw her and Norman now on the dance floor. By the way they moved I could tell they both had too much to drink. As they danced closer to where we were playing I could see that her lipstick was smeared badly. Damn it, he must have kissed her. Drunk or not, this wasn't acceptable. I announced an early break and the dancers voiced their displeasure.

I walked up to Norman and Margaret, took her hand and pulled her back to the table.

"Hey! What's the idea Jeff?"

"You and your new boyfriend Norman have been getting a little too close for comfort. You have been kissing, rather passionately if your smeared lipstick is any indication."

"Oh shit!" She said as she pulled out a compact mirror from her tiny purse and looked at her face.

"He caught me as I came out of the washroom. I think he is a little bit drunk, so am I."

"I have one more set to play. For God sakes don't have any more wine and please stay clear of Norman."

I ordered her a club soda and went off to find Norman. He was at the bar picking up another cocktail. He was swaying in the way that only a drunk can. I put my hand on his shoulder and he turned to me.

"Norm, do me a favour and stay the fuck away from my wife for the rest of the evening okay."

"My name is Norman, and I will dance with her if she wants me to dance. She is a sexy woman isn't she, your wife? We kissed earlier tonight. She is exquisite."

"Yes, she is exquisite and she is mine, so keep your lips and other body parts to yourself."

We began our final set of the night.

Margaret's story

Fuck Jeff and his club soda. I ordered another large glass of wine. This was my night to party and I couldn't wait to get back on the dance floor.

I reapplied my lipstick in the bathroom and looked at my face in the mirror, I saw a strange face looking back at me. It was the face of a woman that was aching for sex. She had a smoking body and a beautiful face. Yes the face was a little slack from all the wine and her eyes were a little unfocused,but she was attractive just the same. I stared at myself for a long moment then said "fuck it." I took off my bra and panties and dropped them in the trash bin. I could always get new ones. Someone was going to get very lucky tonight, whether that was Jeff or Norman I didn't know yet. i had crossed the line and my alcohol fueled alter personality was in full control. I lightly rubbed my pussy as I stared into the mirror. I was wet, I was ready.

Once out of the bathroom I went to my table and there sat Norman. The band was already playing. Norman rose and watched me walk towards him. It was plainly obvious that I was now braless by the jiggle in my boobs. I watched his eyes light up and his gaze never left my breasts.

"Wow, that is impressive Margaret. Let's dance."

"We can dance but at the back of the dance floor, away from the stage. I don't want my husband to explode tonight."

We found the darkest, farthest spot and we danced together. The fast songs made my boobs bounce and it hardened my nipples. A slow song started and we grappled like teenagers. His hand massaged my breast and his other hand was on my ass. When he couldn't feel any panties underneath his hand he moaned and squeezed my ass cheek. I could feel his cock, hard as anything I had felt before pressing into my belly. I rubbed him up and down over the suit pants.

"Come with me." He whispered as he led me off the dance floor and onto an elevator. We rocketed up to the top floor.

Did I know what he wanted? Yes and no. I knew he was as horny as I was. Was I sure that I would let him take me? No, but I was going to find out. That last glass of wine had released my mysterious other personality, the slut.

The elevator doors opened onto the most beautifully decorated penthouse. I walked over to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city, the lights sparkling below. Norman walked up behind me. He unzipped my dress and pulled the shoulder straps of my dress down over my shoulders. He then pulled the top of my dress down over my breasts and then over my hips. It fell to the floor. I stood there in front of the windows naked. Norman put his one hand around me and cupped a breast the other hand he brought down to my mons. I felt so libidinous I thought I would faint.

I lost track of place and time, but when it caught up with me I became aware that I was standing in front of the window alone. I looked around and saw Norman lying on a couch completely unclothed. His flaccid penis against his abdomen and a little pool of cum dribbled out onto his skin. I felt myself to see if maybe there was something inside me but no, it was wet but no cum. Thank goodness we had not fucked.

I pulled on my dress and checked the time. Fuck, I was late. The band would have stopped playing a half hour ago. Jeff would be looking for me. Packing up might take a bit longer so I might still be okay. I dashed to the elevator and took it down.

Jeff's story

The final set was probably my favourite. I checked to see where Margaret was and couldn't see her. I hoped she was alright. Margaret had always had a funny relationship with alcohol. Genetically she was probably predisposed since both her parents were alcoholics. When she drank too much she became careless, overly brave, and it made her very affectionate. Risk management was a concept that was totally foreign to her under the influence. She had been pretty blasted tonight. I wish I could have kept an eye on her but it was impossible from the stage.

Since Norman seemed to be targeting Margaret all evening I starting looking for the tall, handsome man in the crowd. No, he was gone too.

This was the reason that she didn't go to more of Jeff's gigs. There was always too much booze available and too many guys wanting a piece of her shapely ass.

"Come on Jeff, finish the set, find her and take her home." I told myself.

Once we finished the set we started to pack up the equipment. I begged off to go find Margaret. I asked around and was told she hadn't been seen for about half of our last set.

That would mean she hadn't been for 25 minutes. I asked some of the security personnel if they had seen Norman Baxter. Yes, about half an hour ago. He was taking a woman upstairs.

I tried to get on the elevator but security stopped me.

"That elevator is private. It goes to Mr. Baxter's suite."

"That was likely my wife he had with him."

"I feel for you pal, but you ain't the first and you won't be the last husband I have had to console."

I went back to the stage to pack up. I was just finished when I saw Margaret enter the hall. Shit, she looked a mess. Her hair was all over the place, her makeup smeared, eyeliner running. Her tits we're bobbing up and down as she quickly walks toward me.

"What happened to you?"

"C'mon Jeff, let's go home."

It was a quiet start to our trip back home.

Neither of us wanted to open the conversation that we knew we had to have.

Margaret broke the silence first.

"You guys really rocked the crowd tonight!"

"Thanks honey, how are you feeling?"

"Still a little drunk but not as much as I was earlier."

"Where did you go during that last set?"

"Norman took me upstairs to see his penthouse apartment. It is just gorgeous."

"Hmmmm, the penthouse, and what did you do there?"

"Looked out over the city. It was so beautiful at night with all the lights. The combination of the booze and the city lights must have hypnotized me. I kind of lost track of time. I must have stood there for a long while. I came to, saw the time and rushed back to find you."

"So where was Baxter while you were watching the lights?"

"For a while he was behind me, massaging my breast, rubbing my pussy. I don't remember him stopping but when I left he was sleeping on the couch."

"You let Baxter do that to you? What the fuck Margaret."

"You know how I get when I am drunk Jeff. After you saw Norman you must have guessed that he would be my type. We didn't go any further though. When I saw him on the couch it looked like he had been masturbating and passed out."

We drove on in silence.

We had maybe ten minutes driving left when I reached over and put my hand on her leg and gave it a little squeeze. She pulled up her dress and pulled my hand to her pussy. She was wet and a bit sticky.

"Where is your underwear? Why do you feel so sticky? Are you lying ti protect me?

"No, we didn't go any further than what I told you! I am sticky because I have been so wet all night. I am sorry Jeff. I disappointed you. But I swear didn't fuck him."

"I love you babe, but you have to stop doing this. It is going to come back on you someday."

"I know."

Margaret's story

The drive home was difficult. Jeff was disappointed in me. I deserved it. Alcohol turns me into something or someone I can barely recognize as myself. It reminds me of the story of Dr. Jeykll and Mr. Hyde. Too much booze and I become Hyde. But instead of being violent I become a wanton slut.

Jeff puts up with me and he tries to keep me away from circumstances that could lead to bad outcomes. Tonight he was fighting a losing cause.

Once we got home, we showered together. He checked me over carefully and that convinced him that I had not had sex. I know that was weighing heavily on him. I was glad he checked me, because I needed him to trust me and this was a good time to trust but verify.

Jeff lectured me about being careless. He went even further than that and begged me to go for counselling. I don't know. I am afraid of baring my soul, but I am even more afraid of losing the man I love. Jeff has been a saint through all this. I agreed to counselling.

Norman's story

The party last night was one of the best ever. I was super impressed with the band. The highlight of the night for me had to be Margaret. What a surprise she turned out to be.

She sat at the table looking so sweet and demure. One of things a single man like me looks for in a potential encounter is whether she is there with a man. Margaret sat with a number of other women. It was like she was wearing a "fuck me tonight, I am available"shirt.

The dance with her was wonderful but I was completely surprised at the lighting fast change in her personality.The demure sexy librarian was gone and the raging slut took over. The moment I saw her come towards the table with her tits bouncing I knew the personality shift was complete.

It wasn't long after that I took her to my penthouse.

She stood in front of the window in the penthouse, mesmerized by the lights of the city far below. I removed her dress, massaged one of those magnificent tits and stroked her pussy as she stood naked for the world to see. I expected her to participate with excitement but she stood there like a cold fish, as if in a trance. Her pussy was wet enough and I tried to mount her from behind but it was just too awkward. In the end I left her standing there in her fugue state while I took care of myself on the couch. I watched her as I stroked myself to a small orgasm and then passed out.