Provocation Ch. 01

Welcome to Provocations! I'll let you know up front that this is a series about swinging. But it is a series by Publius68, so if you want or need a lot of drama, revenge, broken relationships, and general tragedy in your swinger stories, move on now. You won't enjoy this one, and I don't want to waste your time.

I like swinger stories, but the overwhelming majority of them are either depressing as fuck, or if they are not, they just don't make sense. I mostly wanted to write this series because I do not personally understand swinging in real life. More to the point, I don't understand how a loving, devoted couple makes the transition, successfully or otherwise, into swinging. The few swinger-adjacent stories I have written, I've just jumped on past the decision point as if it just... happened naturally. I do not find that very plausible, and my regular readers know how important that word is to me.

So expect a lot of fun, humor, and some serious slow burn in the overall story, but Provocations is oxymoronic, since it will have plenty of Bow-Chika-Wow-Wow amidst the slow burning! And while this series is posted in Group Sex for consistency, various chapters may not have much of that. It's coming.

Whatever, lean back and enjoy this. I have no idea as of this point where this is going, or how long it will take to get there. Let me know if you enjoy the ride.

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Provocation - One

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"You are good to drive, right?" Gwen asked me as we got into the car.

"I'm fine," I said. "I had like four drinks all night, but we were there over three hours."

"Cool, let's roll," my girl said, buckling her seatbelt. I was barely backed out of Ron and Cathy's driveway when she added, "That was fun as always, but damn! It's like living in those insurance ads sometimes with the two of them!"

I laughed. "Yeah, they do channel old parents a little, don't they?"

"They are a year younger than us, but sometimes they want to act like it is 1961 or something," Gwen giggled. "We must have spent five minutes listening to them fret over the seating arrangements for four people."

"Ever since they got married, Cathy has been reading her grandmother's old books on 'entertaining'," I said, shaking my head. "Whenever they go off on some tangent about 'the right way to do things', I feel like we're children."

"And that is why we are not getting married until it is time for kids," Gwen declared. "The minute you put a ring on my finger, I know that I'll be out in the street, flagging down neighbors to talk about bundling car and homeowner coverage."

I agreed in amusement. Neither of us wanted to revisit the M-word until we decided to have kids. If we ever decided to do that. But we also weren't getting married for a host of sound financial, career, and logistical reasons as well.

We were not holding off because of doubts, thank you, Mom. Every time I looked at my auburn-haired gal, I saw my partner for life. Richer or poorer, sickness or health, death do us part were all baked into the cake for us without a ceremony. We had bought a house together for crying out loud.

"Whereas tomorrow night, when we go out with Sammy, Deidre, and Zoe, all of whom are older than us, we will feel like we are the aged stick-in-the-muds!" Gwen agreed.

We drove in silence for a bit. "Honestly, I think we are lucky those three still want to go out with us, since we moved in together," I admitted.

"You did start lecturing Zoe on the value of building home equity two weeks ago," Gwen snickered.

*

Deidre and Zoe's chosen club was, as usual, too loud.

Christ, I do sound old!

Fuck it, Gwen and I are what we are, and we each are as happy with it as one could expect for a couple whose 20s have now entered the rear-view mirror..

"Carl! Gwen! You are finally here," yelled Zoe, barely audible over the thumping beat. She slid over in the booth they had commandeered before our arrival to make room for the two of us.

"You are both behind. Catch up," ordered Sammy, holding out two Heinekens to us from a bucket in the center of the table. His enormous, dark hands made the bottles look small.

We both sighed and took our bottles. I at least make a token effort to slam back mine, swallowing about half. Gwen took one long sip, then set hers down.

"That is a tiny sip," Deidre said suspiciously. "Are you preggers?"

"If I had a bun in the oven, I would not have even taken the sip," Gwen laughed. "No, I want a couple of shots, not beer." She patted her tummy. "I have to fight this enough at the gym as it is. I think I'm swearing off beer."

"Unless you grew a beer belly in the last eight seconds," Sammy laughed, "you have nothing to worry about." Zoe and Deidre also looked unsympathetic about my lady's weight issue. Her mostly non-existent weight issue.

Look, Gwen is no supermodel. Her nose is, um, Roman in its majesty, and her front teeth are off-center enough to just be noticeable. But her face is expressive, and marvelously so. Currently, it was expressing slightly smug gratitude at being told she has no weight issues by people other than me.

Her waist is admittedly thicker than she wishes, but her belly is nicely flat, if certainly not washboard muscular. She can and does do sit-ups for days, but while all that core strength gives her wicked groundstrokes on the tennis court, it fails to deliver the definition she craves. I like her waist. I love putting my arm around it. Much of the reason for that is that doing so puts me close to grabbing her ass. Gwen does have a supermodel's ass, and when she's being honest with herself, she knows it.

I will admit that she unfortunately has a supermodel's breasts as well.

Unfortunately is the wrong word. Gwen's breasts are lovely, proportionate, and a joy to play with. But, honestly, I am easily distracted by big tits, and Gwen's are only just big enough to be grabbable. I'll never tell her this, but if she ever decides she wants a boob-job, I'd write the check in a second. That shameful secret admitted, I would love them even more if they were larger, but I could not possibly love any larger set even as much.

So, she's not a knockout, but Gwen knocks me out. For my money, she is the best-looking woman among all our female friends, even Cathy, who I must admit possesses an enchantingly large pair.

Gwen shoved her beer toward me. "Go get two shots so we can both catch up."

I rolled my eyes, but while I may not be married, I still know how to follow orders. "Okay. What do you want yours to be?" I asked.

"Both shots are for me. These two beers are for you," she said firmly, leaving the second bottle in front of me. "I think they have Chairman's Club here. I'll take two shots of that. Neat, please!" She finished with the sweet smile I love.

"Anyone else?" I asked. Sammy was good with his beer, but Zoe and Deidre wanted Kamikazes, since I was already going to fight through the crowd at the bar.

I returned faster than I had any right to hope with Gwen's rum and the other girls' less strong shots. When I did, I found that Sammy and Zoe had both already hit the dance floor, though not together.

I was dead certain that Zoe had fucked Sammy at some point. Gwen was equally certain that Deidre had fucked Sammy repeatedly. In both instances, we are talking about the past. Their friendships were stronger than their needs. And none of those three has a problem with getting needs taken care of. Deidre and Zoe may not be as enchanting as Gwen, but they are plenty sexy. And Sammy is... Sammy.

Case in point, I saw him over at another table filled with four girls in varying flavors of good-looking, flirting with all of them simultaneously. In moments, he had asked the blonde to dance, and she had excitedly gotten up. Unfortunately for her, Sammy's usual MO indicated that she was the one he was least interested in. He'd be fishing in that pool off and on all night, between hanging out with us.

Zoe was... more direct. She just went out on the fairly crowded dance floor and grooved by herself until an appealing applicant approached. One already had, and she moving in a way designed to give him more hope than he probably had.

Or maybe not.

"Damn," Deidre laughed to us, downing the shot I had brought her. "Zoe is shaking her ass at him hard for this early in the night!"

Zoe took that moment to glance our way, and Gwen cheerily waved her first shot at our dancing friend before downing it with a gasp.

Deidre got up to do much the same as Zoe was, but paused. "This'll be warm by the time she throws that guy back," she said, touching Zoe's Kamikaze. "That would be a shame..." She slugged back Zoe's shot and hustled out to the floor to dance near Zoe, ready to dance with her when she inevitably dumped her current partner.

"Christ," I said in Gwen's ear so I didn't have to shout. "They are all older than us, but I feel like we can't keep up!" Another benefit of speaking into Gwen's ear was that it gave me an opportunity to nuzzle.

She let me so nuzzle a moment before replying, "Hey! We do okay." She sipped and then slammed her second shot. "We are Ubering home, just like them." She grabbed my hand, "Let's show them we can still dance."

Of course, we could still dance. Better than any of those three, to be honest. When I met Gwen, I was a better dancer than her. Since then, as we fell in love, our dancing skills and habits converged. For these three that we usually clubbed with, dancing is sort of showing off. It is an interview process where no one knows quite who is interviewing whom, for what position. For Gwen and me, dancing is about demonstrating to each other how in sync we are--how we can anticipate and enhance each other's moves.

Still, she and I only danced three songs before we retreated to defend our group's table and to let me drink Gwen's beer before it got warm. Honestly, that was probably all we would dance together tonight. Clubbing these days for us was mostly about getting lightly drunk and watching the circus. We watched the floor and kind of regretted leaving it when we did, as the next song slapped something fierce.

That rarest of things, a waitress, appeared at our table. Gwen ordered a bucket of bottled waters, another bucket of Heinekens, and two more shots of Chairman's Club. That should keep all of us out of the scrum at the bar for a while, at least.

As usual, the circus provided lots of fun watching, beyond our own circus that we came with.

But Deidre and Zoe took the cake for the early part of the evening, when they convinced some random dude that he was about to have the night of his life. The two of them started dancing with him simultaneously, and both were grinding on him... hard.

"Oh, that poor bastard," Gwen observed as we watched.

"He's enjoying himself," I countered. He was enjoying himself a lot, except when I could see him twitching his hips in that way a guy does when he is trying to get his cock to slip into a more comfortable position in his pants.

"Not for long, and you know it," laughed Gwen.

Sure enough, the song ended, and both our friends smiled at him, lightly caressed his arms, then said goodbye, heading back toward our table and leaving the poor bastard looking like they just shot Old Yeller.

Zoe plucked at the arm of a waitress on her way and ordered something. The two of them plopped back into the booth, glistening slightly from the exertion and smiling.

"That was fun!" Deidre said loudly over the music.

"That was cruel!" I countered with a grin.

"That's what I said!" Deidre laughed.

Gwen laughed along with both of them. She had been her share of cruel on the dance floor back in the day.

I had experienced such cruelty from others myself at times, so I laughed less hard. But I still laughed. The dude had been well compensated.

The waitress duly showed up with Zoe's order. More shots. This was going to be an epic night.

The four of us downed them in unison and relaxed. But not for long.

"Come on, Deidre," said Zoe, tugging on our friend. "Moar dancing!"

Deidre was reluctant, however. "Give me a few. I've had more than you," she complained, waving at the empty shot glasses.

Zoe was not dissuaded. "Carl! We haven't danced in weeks. Let's boogie!" She was out of the U-shaped booth and around to my end in a flash, dragging at my hand. I rolled my eyes in pretend reluctance at Gwen, who merely shoved me to get on with doing my duty.

Zoe kept pulling me out onto the dance floor, but just as she was about to release my hand, I clamped down and led her into a spin. She laughed and went with it before we settled into normal gyrations to the thumping music. Gwen and I manage some choreographed, dance lesson-type dancing sometimes, Cha-Chas, Rumbas, and a lot of Hustle, but our friends are just 'move your body' types.

I had never heard this song, but I liked it. It had a wild beat, and it had the women on the dance floor all moving... extravagantly. Zoe was no exception.

Suddenly, she wobbled a bit, not to the music, but just momentarily unsteady. She laughed at herself and wiped at her lips with her fingertips. "That was a strong shot," she yelled.

I just nodded, as if agreeing. I always find it amusing how the brain, when it tastes strong alcohol, goes into drunk mode long before the actual booze has any chance of meaningfully entering the bloodstream.

But the shots did seem like they had been stronger shots than usual. It must be a new bartender tonight--one who hasn't learned to water down the shots to the club's specs.

The upshot of all this was that Zoe started dancing with me like I was a stranger, instead of... just me.

She had on a new outfit that I had not seen before. When we first got there, I had considered the tight, mid-thigh, black leather skirt to be the star of the ensemble, as it showed off her skinny but nicely shaped legs to perfection. But as she got going out on the dance floor, working her shoulders in all directions, I gained new and profound appreciation for the emerald green top she wore.

Zoe has the biggest tits of anyone in our little clubbing group, and the blouse initially disappointed me. It was loose as hell, with lots of extra fabric around the neckline, and just sitting there, the garment played down those mounds. But out on the floor, with her leaning forward and back and shaking side to side, I realized that the neckline was deep. Like, belly deep. The more she moved, the more that window on her cleavage opened and closed, and the more its opening moved around. And since she wore no bra under there, her boobs were moving around a good bit as well.

It was arresting.

Look, I'd had several beers and a couple of shots already, and we hadn't been there that long. So I had reached Tipsy Stupid. You know the condition. Your brain is just distracted enough to not worry about little things. This is as opposed to Drunk Stupid. Drunk Stupid is where you do dumb shit like get behind the wheel. Or tell some random large lesbian stranger that her political views are 'fucked up'.

I have been Drunk Stupid. Fortunately, I had a friend abscond with my keys the one time.

Nothing had saved me or my right eye from the consequences of the other time.

Since I was only Tipsy Stupid, I refrained from responding to Zoe's increasingly frenetic display by doing something disastrous. But I did something stupid enough.

I leaned in for a better look, trying to make it look like just another dance move.

Zoe was into it now, and she was more tipsy than me. Bordering on drunk.

She responded to my eyes and to how close they were to her by grabbing the back of my head and pulling my face down and almost into her cleavage! The view was really, really good now. Zoe's boobs still are not big, per se, but they have plenty enough flesh to move a lot.

I did manage to have the sense not to let her plant my face all the way into her cleavage, but I was dumb enough not to pull away for a good long while...

The song ended, fortunately to be replaced by one I hate. That snapped me out of the hypnotic effect, and I slipped Zoe's grasp. That helped her realize just what she had been up to, and with whom. We grinned at each other sheepishly and headed back to the booth.

The look on Gwen's face had me grimacing lightly, and Zoe veering off to the restrooms.

My lady wasn't mad, but she had clearly been watching the whole time. Her look was... challenging.

I slid into the booth and tried to be casual by grabbing a fresh beer. She snuggled next to me but gave me the smile of a mongoose.

"I love that last song," I said, looking for something to talk about.

Gwen just leaned over and kissed the back of my jaw, right below my ear. "I'll bet you love it more now," she silkily spoke in my ear.

"Um..." I said, trying to parse all the mixed signals. "Maybe I shouldn't be drinking more beer just yet," I tried, waving the beer half-heartedly.

Gwen just nipped my earlobe and purred once more into my ear, "More like, I think we need to keep any more shots away from Zoe for a while!" Then she sat back, fully relaxed.

I had apparently been... forgiven? Even when Zoe returned and slipped into the booth once more, apparently already amnesiac about trying to shove my face between her boobs, Gwen made no more arch observations--to either of us.

Only a few moments later, Deidre returned and plopped back into our booth beside Zoe. She held three shots in her hand. "Lemon Drops!" She crowed, setting hers down in front of herself and holding out one each to Zoe and Gwen.

Gwen intercepted both proffered shots and handed the second one to me instead of Zoe.

"Awww!" Zoe objected.

Deidre looked at Gwen inquiringly.

Gwen just held up her shot imperiously. "Cheers!" she demanded. Deidre automatically clicked glasses. I hastily did too. We tapped them on the tabletop and downed them.

"Awww!" Zoe repeated.

"Zoe needs to skip a round," Gwen told Deidre.

That cleared up Zoe's amnesia. "Oh, hey, Gwen! I mean..." she started to say.

But Gwen cut her off swiftly, and with a smile. "No worries, girlfriend. You just have had a few extra, and I don't want you getting yourself in trouble," she told her like a good sober companion, even though she was hardly that herself by this point. "Not every guy would be as much the gentleman as Carl was just now," she added in a tone of genuine concern.

On the face of it, this was hardly a novel conversation. We had all looked out for each other's inebriation levels for years when we went out clubbing.

But Zoe still blushed. Deidre caught it and laughed. "Oh ho, Zoe! You forget who you were dancing with?"

Zoe looked like she wanted to hotly deny it, but then deflated. Her shoulders slumped, and she held up her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "Maybe a little?" She blushed.

All three women laughed. I unwisely laughed along with them.

All three turned their eyes on me. Deidre tilted her head in challenge.

"Hey!" I objected to the sudden, wordless interrogation. "I was a perfect gentleman. Gwen just said so!" I added, cleverly employing an unimpeachable witness.

"I said, 'as much of a gentleman as you were, '" Gwen smirked. "There is a world of difference between fractional and perfect."

Now I was the one fucking blushing.

They were all laughing even harder. I felt Gwen's hand massaging my leg reassuringly. Well, she was mostly massaging something in the neighborhood of my leg, which was much more reassuring. The grope was also out of character for Gwen when we were out in public like this. I could do with this sort of forgiveness.

We joked around about a couple about fifty feet away who were not so much dancing as demonstrating a series of porno sex positions while fully clothed, after which Deidre declared that it was time for her and Zoe to go and pick up a couple of pornstars themselves. Still laughing, our two friends slid out and into the crowd.

"She's going to be alright?" Gwen sort of said, sort of asked, leaning against me companionably as we watched them move off to hunt.

"She's fine," I said, "but intercepting that last shot was probably a good idea." I turned my face to hers and added, widening my eyes, "For her at least. I'm not so sure about for me!

Gwen grinned, then kissed me. We made out for a bit, which was a bit of alright, especially since she left her hand right were it was, two fingers on my thigh, two on my cock...

We had just broken apart to once more scan the floor show, when Sammy reappeared, sliding into the booth and grabbing the next-to-last beer from our bucket. He flipped the cap and took a long pull.

"Giving your pride of lionesses a minute to percolate?" Gwen teased.

Sammy grimaced and took another, longer pull. "Dry hole," he yelled sourly over the music. "Every one of them."

"Really?" I asked skeptically. Sammy going 0 for 4 was not often a thing.

"Lesbians. Every one of 'em," he said sourly.

"Just because a woman doesn't crave your bod right off the bat doesn't mean she's a lesbian, dude," Gwen scolded. "I mean, it is a possible indicator..." she added with damn near a leer.

"Lesbians," Sammy declared with glum certainty. "They only got around to telling me when I swung by the table this last time, and two of them were making out. But that was only after I had spent half my night working them and buying all of them two rounds!"

"I thought you men were totally hot for lesbians," Gwen challenged both of us. Unlike for poor Sammy, her challenge to me included a fairly firm grab at my cock. I wasn't sure I deserved to be included in this, but I was included in this.

Sammy and I just looked at each other.

"We enjoy lesbian sex because we are imagining ourselves inserted in between," he explained tiredly. "But with this sapphic group, there was no room at the inn for Sammy."

"Bummer, dude!" I yelled. "But if it was easy, it wouldn't be any fun!" I held out my beer, and Sammy clinked his against it.

"Easy isn't fun, huh"? Gwen crooned near my ear. "Just be careful you don't fully jam your face in those tits the next time you dance with Zoe, or I won't be easy at all!"

"Maybe I should then," I tipsily replied. "That would make you a whole lot of fun then!"

I received a shove.

Sammy and Gwen then had a casual conversation at the top of their lungs over the music about their work. They both toiled at the same company, in different departments. I sat, listened, and reflected on the volume of the exercise.

I loved going clubbing and watching hot, horny people dance. I loved dancing myself, though less than I used to. I loved teetering on the precipice of unwisely drunk. All that said, I felt like I was getting a little old for having to yell everything at the top of my lungs.

Gwen and I had recently found a cool little jazz club where the volume was low enough that it didn't set off our watches' noise warnings twice a night. We could apply a lot more of our dance lessons there, too. But Sammy and the girls went once and wouldn't go back. Not enough people our age. Their attitude reminded me that single life is tough.

Still, it's good to be me, even if my ears hurt currently.

Sammy drained his beer and pushed the bottle away. "Come on, Gwen," he said companionably. "Let's go dance."

Sammy and Gwen always dance once or twice when we go out with the gang. But this time, she paused fractionally to look at me.

I just winked at her. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," I teased. I had some pretty good evidence that I was not in trouble, so I figured it was a good opportunity.

Um.

"I don't know," she purred, sliding out of the booth the long way, following Sammy. "You apparently will do quite a bit!"

I shook my head and relaxed, letting my eyes follow my woman's exceptional backside, which was already dancing before she and Sammy even reached the main dance area.

Gwen and I are fairly casual dressers for the most part, but one of the good things about going out clubbing is that it gives Gwen an excuse to rock some fancy outfits. And the excuse to make me do the same to some extent.

For me, this meant I was wearing some extravagant $300 shirt and slightly tighter pants than I wore to work.

For Gwen, it meant a tight, lime green, clubbing dress with a not-quite scandalously short hemline. With that and her three-inch heeled dancing shoes, it made her always nice legs look a mile long. A keyhole neckline showed off her modest but scrumptiously shaped cleavage to maximum effect. The outfit clung tightly to her hips and ass, showing off pantylines. But since those visible lines consisted only of a thin band low around her waist, the fit just made it clear to the world that she sported a thong under there.

As they began to dance, I was reminded that while I still think I'm the more skilled dancer between Gwen and me, Gwen is the better mover. For the kind of club dancing mostly going on, that's what counts.

Though Gwen had known Sammy for more than a year before she even met me, the two of them had never fucked, for a variety of reasons. But I was swiftly reminded that a lack of appreciation for each other's physical forms had never been among those reasons. They always dance a little when we go out, and they always have fun.

Tonight...

Gwen almost immediately upped her usual va-voom to va-vroom. Her hips were gyrating wildly, and she was dancing close to Sammy, but not so close at first that he could not take in a very good look at her.

Sammy... was Sammy. And a horned-up, frustrated Sammy at that. He was buying what Gwen was selling.

What was Gwen selling?

Gwen was not actually selling anything, I realized. But she sure was bringing out her wares...

And from the brief, fleeting glimpses she regularly sent my way, she was keeping an eye on me to make sure I was watching.

Of course I was fucking watching. Gwen is hot. She was doing hot things. I always watch that. You would too.

But she wasn't doing hot things with me. That was, um, new. And that was inciting... something.

Was I getting jealous? Was I getting mad?

Maybe the former, in one way or another, but definitely not the latter.

I was being punished, I supposed. If it was supposed to be a harsh punishment, I'd better work up some jealousy, or I'd be in trouble. But if it was not supposed to be a harsh punishment, and I worked up the jealousy, I'd also be in trouble.

For the moment, I just watched more openly and enjoyed myself.

By the end of their first song out there, it was apparent that Gwen was simply enjoying teasing me. But it was also quite apparent that she was enjoying herself, too... As in, I could see her high beams from all the way over where I sat.

Was I getting a chubby from watching my wife get turned on by dancing with Sammy?

No.

I was getting the chubby from watching her. I just wasn't letting the whole Sammy issue cloud my enjoyment.

As the next song began, Gwen openly looked for me, seeking eye contact. We locked eyes, and I smiled at her. That got a raised eyebrow.

Was I not being punished enough?

Fuck it, emotional honesty had been a strength of ours since our second date. (Sex had been a strength since the third date...) I just smiled happily, and a little hungrily. Let her know she had me horned up.

I didn't know if I had just given permission or issued a challenge, but my woman's eyes squinted dangerously. The kind of dangerously that they had when I had challenged her to lose her bikini top in the ocean down in Florida the prior winter.

It was a good kind of danger, in the end. Always.

Always?

Gwen went back to just fleeting glances to make sure I was still watching and started dancing with her back to Sammy. Actually, she was dancing with her back right against Sammy! Her ass was outright rubbing back against, um... Sammy was too much taller than Gwen for their hips to align, but she was grinding against him anyway.

Then she reached back with both hands and clasped Sammy's, who had been holding them out to his sides as he danced. He usually does that with a girl he isn't trying to make a move on... yet.

Gwen pulled his hands down behind her, then tugged lower, pulling Sammy down until he bent his knees as he moved.

Yep, that brought his lap right level with Gwen's ass, and she proceeded to grind into it with a damned-near blissful expression!

Sammy was... Sammy. Still. Always. I had seen him slip a time or two and almost outright bemoan that he had never taken his chance with Gwen before I came along and took her off the market. It was a regret of his, I was certain. He was, by God, clearly going to enjoy this echo of what he probably could have enjoyed.

Gwen was more circumspect at most times, but I was pretty sure that she also had some second thoughts now and then about never checking Sammy off the list. She has never once given an iota of a sign of regret about being with me, but women are just as susceptible to Might-Have-Beens as men, right? She was definitely enjoying the echoes of alternate history at the moment.

Her fleeting glimpses at me told me that she was also enjoying how wrapt my attention was on her and her antics.

Finally, I've stood next to Sammy countless times at the urinal. The way her ass was rubbing up and down and side to side against him, if she was not aware of his happiness about things, even without ever looking back, she must have gotten a novocaine shot in her ass when I wasn't looking.

He was not quite so lost in a haze with Gwen as Zoe had been with me, though it was close. Still, he did shoot a quick look my way once or twice and had the grace to look at least fleetingly awkward when he did. I don't know if he interpreted the Watch Yourself, 'Cause I Am, look I was sending to Gwen as being meant for him, but if he did, well, I guess it applied. After all, I was not hopping up to go cut in. I only wanted to do that a little bit. Mostly, I just wanted the show to go on.

I wanted Gwen to enjoy herself. And truth be told, I was enjoying the edginess of it all myself.

After a full, rather long house cut of the current song, a song wherein Gwen had her ass writhing on Sammy's package the entire time, she finally released one of his hands and led him by the other back toward our table. She released his other hand halfway back.

She slid back into our booth, once more going the long way round to get back to my side, making sure Sammy followed her. She snuggled up next to me, and only me, brightly announcing, "That was fun!"

I shot Sammy a glance that warningly said it certainly looked like fun for him. I was sure at least that much was expected. The cocksucker just grinned sheepishly, but only barely contritely.

Gwen saw the exchange and looked smug. She leaned into my ear and crooned, "So, how does it feel with the shoe on the other foot?"

I just mock-glared at her, and we both laughed.

"Honestly? It was somehow pretty fucking fun," I whispered back. I did not actually whisper, but a normal speaking voice in someone's ear in this club was about as audible to anyone else as if we were in a Pentagon clean room. "Those shenanigans have me all riled up!"

"Me," Gwen said back, nipping at my earlobe again, "too. We might have to go home and do something about it."

We gave that idea serious consideration, but it was still early. We felt we owed it to our friends to hang in a good bit longer. Damn it, we were the young ones here!

Deidre and Zoe returned in due time, piling into the booth on the other side of Sammy from us.

"Have a good dance, Gwen?" Deidre teased. They must have observed Gwen's antics from somewhere else on the floor.

My woman had the sudden grace to blush when things were highlighted by someone else. Interesting. "Sammy knows how to dance," she called back, shooting Sammy a bland, friendly look.

"Uh huh," Diedre snorted.

One of them must have caught our waitress out on the floor somewhere, because shortly, yet another round of shots arrived, for all five of us this time. Zoe shot Gwen a look that showed she was ahead of my lady this time, and grabbed hers first. Gwen just smiled back like a cat.

We all toasted to a so far excellent evening. At least I think we did. It was hard to hear Deidre's words.

Oh.

Straight liquor shots this time. Tequila.

Must take Advil and a whole bottle of water before bed...

We tried to talk for a bit, mostly successfully, as we let a heavy ounce of Reposado settle into our stomachs and bloodstreams. There was a heated discussion between the women about whether this moderately pretty girl in a red club dress that failed to completely cover her ass was flashing her goodies at the whole club, or if she was just flashing a thong.

Sammy and I did not participate in the conversation. We were too busy trying to discern the answer for ourselves. At least I was, I was paying no attention whatsoever to Sammy.

The girl eventually turned around and some quick flashes of lime green told us all that there was, in fact, a thong strap jammed invisibly up that ass. The girls were all disappointed. For my part, I preferred it this way. It made it sexy, not tawdry.

Sammy? Sammy shot off after the girl in question, the second she turned away from the guy she had been dancing with.

We all laughed.

"I think it is my turn, Carl!" Deidre laughed as we all turned back from observing Sammy capture the girl's attention. She tilted her head toward the dance floor.

I always danced with Deidre, too.

I looked at Gwen out of the corner of my eye as I dutifully slid out of the booth. Her answering look was amused... or askance.

Gwen was always honest with me. I just sometimes had to figure out what she was saying...

Deidre and I got out on the floor and got into the music immediately.

Damn it, Deidre was getting into moving with me a lot more than usual too! And worse, I could tell that, unlike Zoe earlier, she knew she was doing it.

How the fuck was I supposed to handle this? I mean, the look Gwen had given me as I slid out of the booth almost expected me to misbehave with Deidre to some extent? But to what extent? And to what extent did I want to misbehave?

I looked Deidre over a good bit more extensively than I usually did while we danced. Our friend had plenty of misbehavior appeal. She had the least upstairs of the group, but made up for it in the leg department. She, to be blunt, had it going on there. There were long, and fit as fuck. Combined with the short blue skirt she wore with the white halter top, their length made her look like a giraffe. A sexy giraffe.

She was also a wilder dancer on ordinary days than either Zoe or Gwen. And this had slowly morphed into no ordinary day. Man, the girl was moving!

And yes, she wanted to make me certain that she had seen me and Zoe dancing. "Sorry, I don't have what to takes to just outright motorboat you like Zoe did," she laughed.

I just smiled and rocked my head.

"I'd do something else to finally get my fun with you, but I don't want Gwen to cut off my booze like she did with Zoe earlier," she chortled. This comment was not calculated to ease my interest.

"I... um... don't think she would," I said thoughtfully. "I think she mostly was just concerned that Zoe was getting out of control, not concerned about what she was doing," I went on, thinking that actually sounded right.

"So she isn't going to shank Zoe in some dark alley?" Deidre asked, almost seriously.

"Our friend is safe," I laughed.

"So that means I'd be safe," Deidre mused.

"Huh?"

"If I pushed your face into my chest out here."

I rolled my eyes. Then I shrugged, locking my eyes on her instead of Gwen for the moment.

Then... I decided to provoke Gwen myself this time. I'd rather catch any heat on myself that might, contrary to my current estimate, arise from this dance.

I reached out and rested on hand on Deidre's yummy hip.

I almost never touch either of the girls when we dance. If I do, it's their shoulder, or hand, or maybe, maybe their waist. This time, I had my hand fully on her hip.

Deidre just smiled and used my point of contact to synchronize our movements. Damn, even that was extra sexy.

A furtive glance told me that Gwen was watching, rapt. A second glance caught Zoe leaning into her ear, but Gwen waved her away good-naturedly.

Okay, turn up the volume?

I let my hand slide out further, my finger tips venturing into what was definitely, undeniably the territory of Deidre's ass. Her skirt was looser than most, but it still did not take more than a few beats for my fingers to tell me that, like Sammy's new friend, if she wore any underwear, it was a thong...

Deidre also shot a look Gwen's way.

"So we are teasing her, huh?" she asked me.

"I think so," I said, uncertain.

I should have sounded more uncertain. Deidre just grinned, and her hand shot out to grab my fucking waistband! Her finger curled deep inside my pants, and it was only because I was fortuitously dressed left, and her hand was slightly to the right, that she didn't directly brush my moderately tumescent cock.

She pulled me hard against her, then almost instantly spun to face away from me. Her hands grabbed mine and slammed them onto her gyrating hips. In seconds, I was getting just as thorough, if not more so, of a vertical lap dance than Sammy had enjoyed earlier. Even better, Deidre's long legs meant I didn't have to kink my knees to enjoy the full effect.

When her ass sensed my inflating condition, she started mostly moving her ass up and down, dragging the crack of her loosely-clad ass along my length. I just held on for dear life.

She looked over her shoulder and caught me glancing at Gwen. She laughed. "Are you enjoying yourself, or enjoying taunting Gwen?"

"I'm enjoying you taunting Gwen!" I replied. I let the tone of my voice and my physical condition tell her that I was also enjoying myself.

Deidre lifted her arms sinuously above her and reached back to lace her fingers together behind my head, her fingers nestling into my hair. This pulled me forward with my face resting beside hers, my chin on her shoulder from behind. Our bodies were now pressed together from shoulder to groin. This really forced our movements into an identical groove. I may have groaned happily.

Deidre chuckled.

Together, we were performing the electronica club music-fueled, unchoreographed dance equivalent of the Lambada...

This situation kept my attention precisely focused to the end of the song and into the next, whereupon Deidre rotated to face me, embracing me. She was plastered against me just as hard as before, but with my cock pressing into her belly now instead. Very low on her belly. I, of course, felt compelled to embrace her back.

While our heads were together, we kept our faces away from each other, especially our mouths.

Weirdly, I thought more about just fucking this girl in my arms than I did kissing her. I caught sight of Gwen again. She looked on, grimly... approving? She also looked as uncertain as I, but showed no signs of wanting to jump in between us any more than I had when she was dancing with Sammy.

Sammy had already returned to the table. Poor guy was having a rough night. Other than his dances with Gwen...

I held her gaze for the first time and quite deliberately reached down to squeeze Deidre's hard, swaying ass. I could see Gwen's nostrils flare, all the way from where I was. But she didn't frown.

So, since Deidre had jumped when I outright grabbed her ass but had not otherwise shown any inclination to dislodge my hand, I left it there for a while.

It really is a quality ass. And the shape and feel of a different butt in my grasp was... refreshing? Tantalizing? Just forbidden fruit? But after a bit, I slid my hand back up around Deidre's back unprompted.

"Are you in trouble?" Deidre asked as my hand migrated up. She could not see back toward the table like I could.

"I'm in something," I chuckled. "But I don't think it is all trouble..."

Deidre chuckled and shook her head against mine. And grabbed my ass with both hands. "Edibles or Ecstasy?" she asked.

"Huh? You know we don't do that shit," I snorted.

"Then I don't get what's gotten into you two," she snorted. "She was fucking grinding on Sammy. Now you are out here pressing your erection against me, grabbing my ass..." What do you know, I had grabbed her ass again--both hands this time, just like her. "... and practically dry-humping me. But I get the distinct impression that if I let go of you too fast, you'll shoot back over to our booth and outright fuck Gwen on the table right here in the club!"

I laughed at that.

"Yeah," I said as I considered her words. "When this song is over, you better hold me back just a little!"

I honestly tried to tone it down for the rest of the song. I was spoken for, and the speaker was right here, watching. But Deidre was aware of that and had decided to get what she could while the getting was good.

Thankfully, when the song ended, the mood lifted from us both, and we headed back to the table.

I thought about fucking Gwen right then and there only a little bit.

"Well now," Sammy said slyly as Deidre and I slid into opposite sides of the u-shaped booth, "I think we may need another shot after that performance!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Deidre said archly. "It was just me and Carl."

"Maybe for you guys," Gwen said firmly. "I am... going to take this one home now." They were words that could have held dire portent. But they did not. Instead, they left me realizing how close I was to being the one bent over the table here for carnal activity!

Oh, fuck yeah!

"Yeah," I agreed out loud. I pointed to all the empties on our table, which were only about half of what all we had gone through. "I know it is early, sorry. But we all went pretty hard to start things tonight, and I don't want to be hung over for all my chores around the house tomorrow."

"That is not how to make us jealous about home ownership," chortled Zoe, looking us over. Gwen and I were very enthusiastic about the house we had bought, and did prompt all three of them occasionally to grow up and stop paying rent.

"Well, you will have to be jealous about something else then," Gwen chirped, and we dragged each other toward the exit. Gwen was almost frantically punching up her Uber app.

We got a car almost immediately, and that sucked. It sucked because our driver was Florence (4.99⭐️), a nice, 60 year-old lady who must have been Jeff Gordon's nanny, given the way she drove.

Gwen and I clung to each other in the back seat the whole way home.

To be clear, I very much wanted my hands on Gwen anyway, but not while hanging on for dear life.

On the plus side, we were home in no time!

We went in through the garage like always. The inside door leads to the house through the laundry room, and I made it about halfway through there before I broke down. I grabbed Gwen, eagerly this time, and spun her into my arms.

She squeezed me back, and our mouths found each other hungrily. She irritated me, though, because her tongue lanced so quickly into my mouth that I could not get mine into hers. I ran my hands up under her shoulder-length hair and found the hair at the back of her head was as damp and sweaty as my own.

Gwen's arm laced firmly around my shoulders, as if I were going to try to get away. I just dropped my hands to cup her ass that cried out for grabbing. She moaned a little, and I simply lifted her off the ground. With a ninety-degree turn, I deposited her on the washer. "Oh, fuck yeah," my love groaned.

She was anticipating my next move, which was to reach up under her skirt and yank off her underwear. She squirmed, half in excitement, half in an effort to make my job easier.

I pushed the panty down until it tangled around her ankles. I had no time for that nonsense and simply pushed her knees apart. Instantly, I tore my face from hers and drove it down under the skirt.

"Damn! That's it, Carl," she groaned. "Give me that tongue...!"

Freshly sweaty pussy is... the best. Freshly sweaty pussy that has been turned on the whole time it was getting sweaty is... somehow even better. I absolutely devoured Gwen's pussy with a fervor I had not displayed since sometime around when we first bought the house. It was dark and cramped and marvelously aromatic under her skirt, but I knew every contour of my lady's parts by heart, how they liked to be treated, and how to so treat them, by heart. I attacked her pussy with a lustful fervor of a first time, but with the experience to ensure there was not the slightest misstep.

The only 'problem' was that, between my hitherto unparalleled efforts, and how long Gwen had clearly been on the boil already, my feast did not last long. I had barely indulged myself in my best moves before I realized that Gwen was winding up to let go. I fleetingly considered trying to back her off the edge because I had not gotten my face nearly wet enough yet, but even clouded by lust, my brain never goes to the cruel when it comes to teases.

She was taken then by a truly titanic orgasm, her hips thrusting up off the top of the machine and against my face, and her voice was a long series of syllables in varying pitch that probably would have required Chinese characters to render in print. And concerns I had had about my face not getting wet and sticky enough were rapidly sent flying in the wind...

I didn't want to be finished, so I hung in there, fighting drowning and kept my tongue lashing at her clit. She squirmed, and managed a single intelligible, "Fuck!" before scrabbling at my head with her hands, as if to push me away. But the fabric of her skirt kept her from getting a good purchase on me, and I kept my face firmly in place. I reveled in stirring my tongue through the electric flavor of my woman while she reverted to unintelligibility once more.

I let her off the hook once her second crescendo crashed to its thunderous finish and straightened up from under her skirt. I grinned at Gwen smugly.

Her eyes were still a little wild as she smiled at me breathlessly. She grabbed my head and pulled me into a kiss. A kiss she aborted in less than a second. "Jesus, Carl! You're soaking! Did I actually squirt down there?"

"You've squirted before," I snorted.

"That much?" she asked, looking at my dripping face.

Hmm.

"Maybe not," I supposed.

"I've never wanted to pay a debt so badly in my life," Gwen said, hopping off the washer. "And I mean more than giving you one of these," she added, handing me one of our freshly cleaned and folded bath towels. A full-sized bath towel was a bit much just to clean my face.

As I wiped, I reflected that maybe it was not too much...

"Kitchen," Gwen announced, and headed that way. The view of her naked ass was improved by the appearance of her bare back as she pulled her blouse off over her head.

I followed without thought.

Gwen went straight to our immaculate kitchen island and hopped up on the counter. She chose the low level where we prepped, not the dining area that would have made it easier for me to resume my fun.

Before I could point this out, she derailed my plans by rolling over onto her back, naked except for her bra, and hung her head backward off the edge of the counter. She stared into my eyes as she slowly opened her mouth.

Wow.

We had efforted this maneuver once before, back when we were still trying to christen every horizontal surface in our new house. It has been fun, but it had taken forever to work it all out. Neither of us had felt it was worth all the folderol to try and repeat it.

Right now?

I kicked free of my shoes and ripped open my fly as I approached Gwen. She likes the way those tighter-than-usual trousers fit me, usually, but in that moment, I hated them for being difficult to get down my legs. I was still in the zone, though, and kicked them free before I got to Gwen.

She lifted her limber arms over her head and tugged my underwear down. My cock was half a foot of blue chromium steel, pointing right at her as I let my underwear slide off my legs. The instant my underwear slid down out of her reach, Gwen lifted her hands back to seize my hips and pull me the rest of the way.

I grabbed my cock and guided it into that mouth, still impatiently open for me.

Gwen's lips closed around my tip as it entered, and she let her arms flow away. She suckled gently on my helmet, but I could not restrain myself and slid a few inches inward. It was weird and unfamiliar in the best of all possible ways to feel her tongue riding along the top of my cock, instead of the bottom, and I groaned in a wild feeling of delight. Gwen suckled hard on me, and moved her head a little, but there was not much she could do along those lines in this position. Her hands beckoned languidly to me.

I shuddered as I pushed deeper, sliding back and forth, in and out, taking care not to choke her. On we went, Gwen only occasionally opening her mouth wide to gasp for some extra oxygen. This was incredible, and I began to lose myself in the intricate alignment.

But then my thrusts lost their precision as I lost my mind, and I jammed my cock hard against the back of Gwen's throat. She gagged, of course. It was the first misstep either of us had made since entering the house, and it was my fault! I yanked backward, but even through her gag, her lips tried to keep their purchase on my member. I popped free and yelped, "Sorry!"

"No. Don't," Gwen gasped. She paused, and I saw her swallowing slowly, with a funny expression on her face. I'm never sure what specifically she is doing, but I know that expression means she is trying to prepare to deep throat me. She is seldom fully successful, and doesn't try often anymore. But she had an additional look of hunger and determination now. She took a deep breath, smiled brilliantly, if upside down, at me, and wordlessly opened her mouth again, waiting.

I shook my head, not wanting to ruin this crazy, sexy, fey mood we were in, but also ferally driven to answer her summons.

I leaned forward, her lips captured my cock, and I started thrusting again. I drove just a fraction deeper each thrust, restraining myself as much as I could, but the desire swiftly overtook me again. My hips began to rock faster and harder, my mind spiraling into delirium. Suddenly, I felt a new, wonderful sensation take over, and I realized I was in Gwen's throat! And she had not even spasmed in the slightest this time. Her own desires had pushed her to an experience for me that she had never fully been able to give.

I stared down at her throat, laid bare before me, and I saw it distend where I was buried in it. Another thrust or two, and I could see myself go in and out! Fuck, it felt amazing. I kept going, losing my mind. I had thought I had lost it before...

Then I felt a light push against my hip, and I snapped back to reality. I pulled my cock back to clear her airway. I popped free again, and Gwen gasped. "Fuck, that's wild," she sort of coughed. Then she added, "Five."

"Five?"

"You can thrust in about five times before I'm gonna want some air," she nodded. "Do that, let me breathe, then do it again."

"Ohhhh...." I moaned.

"Keep it up, Carl. You are going to come in my throat," Gwen crooned.

Unbelievably, I did. It took a while for it to happen, but my woman was an absolute trooper. And she was enthusiastic about it as I was. (Was that even possible?) The feeling of losing my load directly into my lady's throat seemed an apex experience, only to have it be instantly surpassed by the sensation of her swallowing around my cock.

I wobbled there, then slid myself free faster than I had wanted to. But Gwen's respiration was job one...

"Water," I croaked.

"Yeah," Gwen nodded gaspingly. "No more booze."

I nodded. "I'm drunk enough on all of this!"

I caught her brilliant smile as I turned and practically yanked two bottles of Mountain Spring from the fridge. I cracked them both open, handed one to the now standing Gwen, and led us into the living room, each naked except for my shirt and her bra, with our nether bits still almost dripping.

With but a single pull each on our bottles, we found ourselves gently making out on the couch. The next minute was the simple bliss of kissing each other, reveling in the closeness.

But then Gwen stopped the kiss and lowered her face a fraction. "We should probably talk about tonight," she said.

Damn!

Aside from the fact that any guy in a permanent relationship knows to fear the phrase, 'we should talk,' I wanted to just keep going with what we were doing. To keep going with this suddenly resurgent, like the early days' fervor between us. I was honestly surprised that Gwen wanted to talk right now. It wasn't that I had forgotten about what had happened at the club. I had not. Images of Gwen rubbing her ass on Sammy's eager lap had flickered through my mind, even at our most intense moments since getting home.

That was weird. What was more weird, I guessed I did think we should talk.

"We should be pissed as hell at each other, right?" Gwen said slowly. "I mean, this should be angry sex going on, right?"

"For what I did," I nodded.

"For what we both did, doof," Gwen smiled. She got hesitant. "That wasn't angry sex just now, was it?"

"Fuck no," I grinned. "Hot, yes. Under the collar? Not a chance." I paused. "Why aren't we each a little mad, at least?"

"All I know is, I was trying to provoke you after Zoe's antics," Gwen said. "When I went out to dance with Sammy, I consciously wanted a reaction out of you. When you tried not to give me one, I just ramped it up."

"You were getting a reaction out of me," I reassured her. "I wasn't mad, but yeah, you provoked me all right."

She smiled serenely.

"And when Deidre wanted to dance, I was going, come hell or high water, to provoke you too," I snorted.

"Yeah," Gwen mused, "Outright dry humping my friend right in the middle of the club, twenty feet from me was... provocative."

We grinned at each other.

I felt my face fall a little. I wanted to say something I didn't think I needed to. But honesty with Gwen was more than a policy; it was second nature, maybe first nature, for me. Gwen saw the shift before I spoke. "But I have a confession to make," I said softly. "I... I was doing all that with Deidre to provoke you, true, but... I also kind of let myself enjoy it on its own. A lot."

I looked at her worriedly.

She just arched an eyebrow, then sighed in... relief? "Yeah. Same for me. Sammy's cock on my ass felt gooood."

We both laughed at ourselves.

"So, we are even there," Gwen sighed. It was definitely relief. "But it was weird, ya' know?"

"How?"

"It was like I was mentally, even erotically, multitasking out there on the floor. I mean, my mission was to provoke you intentionally, like you and Zoe had unintentionally provoked me before. And that was turning me on something fierce," Gwen said. "But Sammy was... turning me on, too," she said softly. I just squeezed her knee in an attempt to dispel any guilt she felt. "I mean... you know he and I never got together, back before you came into my life, right?"

"You've alluded to it once or twice," I said, with dry understatement.

"We did dance around the issue a few times," Gwen went on. I knew this, but her saying it straight out was new. "But, well, the way he had sort of friend-zoned himself with Deidre and Zoe kind of kept getting in the way." She looked at me. "But I was definitely planning on making it happen, until I met you."

Again, nothing I didn't know, just something I had never heard.

"And dancing out there, feeling his fat cock rub on my ass, damn near on my pussy, had me feeling great... and a little wistful," she finished slowly, biting her lip.

I smiled at her. "Too bad you never took the leap. Friend-zone or not, there is no way Sammy, of all guys, could have resisted you."

"Thank you," she blushed. She blushed at that? Now? "As I said, I was working my way up to it before we met. And tonight I found myself being wistful that I hadn't pulled the trigger sooner."

"If only I'd begged off going out with Zoe that first night like I wanted to, we might not have met for a few more months," I chuckled. "You'd have nailed him for sure by then."

"Oh, God, no!" Gwen yelped involuntarily. "No way. There is nothing I would trade for so much as a single month with you!"

I smiled happily.

"I wasn't even wishing for the chance tonight," Gwen went on, on firmer mental footing. "But I was enjoying the fuck out of the echo of what might have been. No," she corrected herself. "No, I was just fucking enjoying the feeling of his body grinding into mine right then and there! Purely in the moment, not because of any regrets."

"Multitasking," I observed.

"Yeah," Gwen said sheepishly.

"Well, that's a relief," I said.

"Honesty always, right?" she said with a dangerously wistful smile.

"Yeah, that, but it makes it a shit-ton easier for me to figure out how to be honest with you," I snorted. "I was also enjoying the fuck out of dancing like I did with both Zoe and Deidre tonight."

"I'm not sure what you were doing with Deidre qualifies exactly as dancing," Gwen snorted, her expression from earlier back on her face.

"A valid point," I said, nodding. "But I wasn't out there to enjoy rubbing a massive hard-on all over our friend's body. I was enjoying that, for sure. But I was out there to get more of that look you shot me just now. Because that look means I've turned you on, and that look turns me on."

We looked at each other. Among all the crazy vibes we were experiencing, we seemed to be in sync in how we felt about this evening.

"Are we fucked up?" Gwen asked, more curious than afraid.

"I... Yeah... no," I said, veering all over the place. Gwen and I seemed in sync about our confusion. "There is a lot I don't know. But we know some things. We both are still turned on by other people."

"I think that's true of more couples than would admit it," Gwen put it.

"Of course, but we went a lot further with it than most tonight," I snorted. "But we didn't do what we did because we were either of us dissatisfied, right? I mean, it was fun. But it was also about provoking each other, ramping up the flames we always feel, just making them more intense. That's what I was up to."

"Me too," Gwen replied. "That said," she sighed, "we should both keep admitting that we also did it to have fun ourselves."

I nodded, sure but uncertain. "So, I guess we have more to talk about," I said.

"I have a better idea," Gwen said. "I say we go to bed so I can fuck you silly, which is all I can really think about at this point. Then we get a good night's sleep."

"Then we talk tomorrow?" I asked.

"Eh, we'll see if we are ready. Mostly, tomorrow I hear that you have a hard day's worth of honey-dos to perform for me," Gwen said sweetly.

Well, shit.

But what I was about to do to her in that bed would make it all worthwhile.

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Let me know how you like the start in the comments, please. This one is not at all finished, so I would appreciate help in how to make it fun. And it is just fun, guys. I am not trying to make a how-to here. I would not want a how-to on this in my own life for anything.

Thanks for all the stories of mine that many of you have read. If you are new to my work, I have a lot of good stuff for you to check out while you wait for the next chapter of this crazy tale. There will be no regular rate of release this time. Some may come quick, some may languish. Make sure to follow me!