Provocation Ch. 04

I'm just going to say, the main action in this chapter was not in my initial outline, but as I started writing, it just sort of happened... Shrug.

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Provocation - Four

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"Sucks to be you!" I heard Gwen whooping, excitement in her voice.

"Damn," I growled, struggling. I had made a mistake, and now I was paying for it. I wrenched my shoulders and stared desperately at Gwen's tail, almost twenty feet away from where I sat. She was over there, hot, sweaty, and having the time of her life, leaving me behind while I struggled against the wall.

I wrenched the wheel again, and it finally moved. I stomped on the accelerator, and my go-kart leapt away from the pile of tires I had wedged myself against while trying to pass Gwen on Kart-O-Rama's Advanced Track. Her whooping had faded as she left me behind, but I assumed she had resumed concentrating on her driving anyway.

She would need to, I thought grimly. It had been almost immediately apparent that for this race, I had lucked into a much faster kart. It had a noticeably higher top speed than the one Gwen had grabbed. She'd chosen hers based on the fact that it was purple and she is a sucker for purple.

Unfortunately for me, we had also chosen to finally try the advanced track for this race. Gone were the two long straightaways and the wide, sweeping turns my kart would have eaten up over on the GT Track. GT Track was a fancy name for the easy track... More unfortunately for me, the closer, tighter turns on our current route meant that driving skill meant more than the speed of the vehicle.

And my lady just might be a better kart driver than I. This was not something to consider, and I dismissed it, concentrating on using my vehicle's speed, now that I was in the clear, to try to catch up on her lead. I was a better driver on the road in a real car, right? That's why I was always the one who drove when we went anywhere together. I'd driven here, for crying out loud. Because I was the better driver.

Even if it was a cast iron bitch to get past her, despite my better kart.

My kart really was faster, and I caught all the way back up to Gwen by halfway through our last lap. But then I stayed there for the remainder of our race. She simply took better lines through turn after turn than I could manage, gaining just enough edge to hold me off on the few short straights. I wasn't going to try to pass on another turn. Sliding into the tires actually hurt a little.

I grumbled to myself that the view of that kart's backside was infinitely inferior to a view of Gwen's.

She sped over the finish and whooped again. She drove over and parked her go-kart in the ostentatiously labeled Victory Lane. It wasn't victory lane. I got to park there too, right behind her, and I, as I was sure to be reminded of for weeks, had not been victorious. Gwen popped up lithely in her kart and yanked her helmet off, tossing her long auburn hair as it flowed free, barely the worse for wear after all those energetic trips around the track. She danced a little victory dance.

Shit. When I pulled my own helmet off, I instantly knew my hair was a mess!

I could not help but grin as Gwen celebrated, despite my own frustrations. I always loved watching her have fun. Going kart racing was a new way to see her on an adrenaline rush, and it was both less expensive and more fun for me personally than hitting up an amusement park to ride some roller coasters. Even if I had lost most of our races.

I'm not the biggest fan of most kinds of roller coasters, and had always mostly avoided the big ones growing up. But then I met Gwen... she loves them, and riding a big one with her always ends up being sexy as hell. So I've ridden a lot of coasters that I sort of hate inside, but that are totally worth it to feel her freaking out beside me.

"How'd my dust taste, Carl?" Gwen teased as we walked over to turn in our helmets.

"Fortunately, the rest of you tastes amazing," I leered casually. This had been the last of our package of races, and I was focused on taking her home. The excited smile on her face had my mind full of visions of her naked back bent over before me as I thrust into her, a vision I now urgently intended to make real within a couple of minutes of getting back to our house.

Recent events had crystallized for me how turned on I always got when Gwen had an exciting time. I love her, and I always feel both especially randy and extra close to her when she gets a rush. And it works the other way around. I love getting kicks in the water; jet-skiing, surfing, and especially old-school waterskiing. Can't get enough. None of it is Gwen's favorite, but she loves seeing the smile on my face when we get out on the water. But recent events had made it obvious that boats and rollercoasters did not do the arousing job as well as something like the other night at Ron and Cathy's, where I had the chance to watch her flat out making out with Ron. My boy did a great job driving her to hormonal distraction, and I kinda found that I had loved that. I had loved it while it was happening, and loved it a whole lot more later.

I had also definitely loved Cathy and I driving each other to similar upheaval.

And Gwen had loved that, during and after.

My lady and I had about worn my dick down to a nub that night when we made it home. And several nights thereafter.

I snorted to myself as we handed in our helmets. Thinking of seeing Gwen grooving to Ron's hands all over her chest was turning the eagerness I already had over her gleeful racing into a sort of urgency. I steered us well clear of the snack bar on our way out. We had plenty to eat at home, and the line for popcorn would delay us getting to what I was suddenly seeing as the highlight of the evening.

Gwen kissed me on the cheek, then the lips, right there in the lobby, next to the vintage Donkey Kong machine. I narrowly resisted grabbing her ass in response. There were kids everywhere.

It occurred to me, as I thought on the images that were flashing through my mind to feed my arousal, that memories of my face full-on buried in Cathy's tits, while very enjoyable, were not still feeding my arousal now. Playing with her body had fed the fuck out of my arousal at the time, to be sure, but the physical play with her wasn't still driving me. What was still driving me, a week later, was the way I could feel sucking on Cathy's tits had provoked Gwen.

And what was even more visceral was the way her inhaling Ron's tongue had provoked me.

We kept leaning into that word: provocation. I think it was because it was not any number of other words that conventional wisdom and common sense demanded should be our mental state, but which were not.

I should have been shocked. I should have been scandalized. And obviously, I should have been jealous. But I wasn't. I could feel echoes of jealousy, or something adjacent to it, but not really. Because I felt not the slightest trace of threat to my own position with Gwen.

The real crux of the matter was, I should have felt ashamed. I should have felt belittled. But I did not. I felt teased, sure, but nothing was working its way into cracks in my mental state, because I felt no cracks. In fact, I felt like everything going on was just reinforcing my mental state.

So... provoked.

From what little Gwen and I had talked about, and the vastly larger amount that we communicated to each other without words, I figured her mind was virtually identical, just the other way around.

All that said, right now her mind was just as focused on how to fuck me when we got home as mine was on fucking her.

Life's a hardship, isn't it?

Well, there was one hardship.

We tumbled through the door to our house and into our living room. I grabbed Gwen from behind and steered her toward the back of our couch. "Bend over," I growled, pushing her between the shoulder blades.

But she resisted. "Nuh uh, buster," She growled back. "I need you to drop those jeans and lie on your back right here!"

"In a minute," I said silkily, stroking one hand across her tight ass, while still pushing her forward over the couch.

But she spun out of my grasp. "Nope!" she crowed. "Winners get to fuck the losers the way they want," she went on brattily. She tugged at the snap of my jeans and it popped free. "Now drop trou and lie down, loser!"

I made a show of being cowed as I obeyed. Gwen was impatiently upon me before I could even get my jeans completely free of both ankles, straddling me right there on the carpet. How she had gotten out of her own, much tighter jeans so fast was a fleeting mystery, swiftly discarded. In moments, her silken cleft was devouring my cock. I gasped happily and let my head flop back on the floor. My lady rose and fell along my shaft in a languid, relaxed manner that managed to last at least 30 seconds before she was riding me like mad.

Well, she had gotten on top like this because she had driven so well. I was utterly unsurprised that she was still driving amazingly.

For the first time that evening since a couple of our early races, I finished first, which was in no way a win. I gritted my teeth in competitive frustration as Gwen milked a truly prodigious blast from my cock, dimming my vision happily. She shrieked in delight as she felt me unload in her, but she was not quite there herself. And I had to struggle beneath her as she wildly rode my freshly orgasmed cock, which shrieked itself in that weird post-orgasmic experience of sensual overload that is almost painful after a powerful orgasm. Okay, not painful. Just mind-bending.

But as hardships go, I found I could endure it...

When Gwen finally collapsed atop me, still shivering from the explosions I had felt ripping through her insides, I cradled her to me.

Then we both struggled to our feet and stumbled to the kitchen for a snack. We returned to the living room, each having grabbed something to our liking, and divested ourselves finally of our tops. Gwen then aided me in recovering from my 'ordeal' by standing naked in front of me as I sat on the couch. I was not allowed to touch myself or her, so I sat there, eating my blue cheese-flavored popcorn while Gwen gave a spectacular blowjob to a Creamsicle.

Then I finally fucked her hard over the back of the couch, just like I had wanted to begin with, and had still been thinking about a little, even while she had been fucking me on the floor...

It was a fun, exhausting, rewarding Friday night for the two of us. We had laughed a ton, gotten sweaty in multiple ways, had great sex, and later, slept like babies.

But I still kind of thought in the back of my mind that it would have been even better if we had hung out again with Ron and Cathy, but they had been in Houston all weekend for some God-forsaken family thing.

Is there any reason that is not God-forsaken, if it forces you to be in Houston in July?

*

"Really, Zoe?" Gwen exclaimed, looking at her phone as we sat at our kitchen table, eating Lucky Charms for breakfast like nine year-olds.

I examined my woman. Whatever had her rolling her eyes also had her conflicted. The love of my life can be transparent about her feelings, much of the time.

"What?" I asked, already amused by whatever it was going to be.

"She wants it to be Vein again tonight. Deidre is already in."

"Vein?" I objected. "That place is..." I shook my head.

We shared a companionable look of superiority. As dance clubs went, Vein was anything but childish... but it was kind of childish.

"The two of us are grown-ass adults, you know," Gwen announced to the universe. "We do not, in fact, have to go out to a nightclub every time our single friends beckon."

"Which they do most every weekend," I added superiorly. "Freaking party animals."

We looked at each other again, quite happy just with each other. We did not need to go out to that... silly club.

"So, what time do we meet them there?" I asked.

"Nine. We are on our own for dinner this week. The girls have late volleyball, and Sammy is going to take the opportunity to shoot hoops."

"We could just do their sports with them, instead of going to ridiculous dance clubs and watching idiots do mating dances on the floor," I observed.

"Please," Gwen snorted. "Even though it's just a rec league, you'd still ride the pine, given the dudes Sammy tries to keep up with," she said, hanging a lantern on the obvious. She then stroked the single least appealing feature of her entire body absently. "And this broken nose in high school convinced me that volleyball is a sport best left to psychos." She munched a spoonful of cereal. In fairness, even before it had been broken, my love's nose was... a big target.

I might have been insulted by her bench jockey remark, but in this case, the truth did not, in fact, hurt. I am only 5'10" and my 6'4" buddy Sammy goes by 'Shorty' with his teammates. Actually playing with those guys is what would have hurt.

"And I do love Vein," Gwen admitted, spooning around for the green clovers she likes so much.

"Wearing The White Dress?" I asked.

"Duh. That thing is the reason I love Vein!"

*

Vein really is ridiculous. They do exclusively electronica dance vibes, and they mercifully keep the volume down just enough that you don't have to shout everything. But you need your hearing because you cannot see a fucking thing in there. Seriously, there is almost no light. At the bar, the only light comes from the beer coolers and the screens of the cash registers, and in the seating area around the perimeter, the only illumination comes from patrons' cell phones.

The floor is liberally sprinkled with little pin lights that make for safe footing. Other than that... nothing.

The only well-lit area, if you can call it that, is the central dance floor itself, which is illuminated with 100% UV black lights. The dancers, depending on the material of their clothing, are either damn near invisible, or come off as glowing disembodied clothing, dancing in mid-air.

Oh, and teeth. There are so many grinning, free-floating teeth in the darkness.

But the comparatively bright fluorescence of white and bright colored clothing collected together in the center of the room sheds no light out into the rest of the club, and only makes everything else seem even more like inky blackness.

As Gwen and I entered the club, not late for once, we headed immediately to the edge of the dance floor, into the field of the black lights. This was the easiest way to see our friends in the club, or have them see us, more accurately. But it also let Gwen spin around a time or two and show off The White Dress.

It had a flowing knee-length skirt that rose and flared when she turned quickly. She had to be careful because if she spun around hard enough, it would flare out into a flat disc at her waist, showing off her underwear to all and sundry.

At least the panties she wore tonight were black, and would not fluoresce when I inevitably spun her hard enough at some point...

The top of The White Dress was a halter, with a high collar band resting tight around her throat. Gwen has lovely, though hardly generous, breasts, but a touch of side-boob always makes things look more impressive.

A lot of male patrons at Vein just wear white teeshirts for the glow. I am a boring, middle-class, 30 year-old, might-as-well-be-married man, so I can't be doing that. My outfits always pale against The White Dress when we go to Vein, so I don't bother to try, and just dress for a normal night out. Often, I am one of those black holes out on the dance floor, among the disembodied neon outfits. But tonight I was delighted to find, as we approached the floor, that the pink stripes on the new multi-color button-down I was wearing unexpectedly glowed under the UV! None of the other colors did, but the pink ones glowed in spades!

Gwen was delighted to see it and kissed me excitedly.

A hand tapped me on the shoulder. "Yo! Looking good, guys," Sammy said from behind me. He wore white pants and a tight neon green turtleneck that showed off his physique. He always wore shit like this when we went to Vein. I had called him out the last time, telling him that only a black dude could dress like that at a club and not look ridiculous. All he had said was, "It ain't because I'm black. It's 'cause I got style!"

What he meant was, these were his golf clothes, and I had better not tell any of the women that.

"We got a table over against the wall," Sammy went on, beckoning.

"Wow, you must have gotten here early," Gwen said, following Sammy and swatting my hand away from her ass. The White Dress's only downside is that it is not form-fitting over Gwen's premium backside, but I still get enchanted by its swaying suggestion beneath the skirt.

The tables against the wall at Vein are always popular, despite it being almost pitch black back there. Or perhaps because of that, especially since each high-top was tucked into a little scallop alcove on its own. There are also no chairs around the ones against the wall. We had grumbled about this in the past, but had come to the conclusion that there were no seats around the darkest tables to discourage patrons, in the effective privacy of the location and the darkness, from just fucking right there in the club.

We had been coming to Vein occasionally for a year now, since it had opened. When walking, stumbling mostly, near the wall in the past, I had seen the suggestion of movements in the blackness that told me the club's anti-copulation plans were not always wholly successful...

We got to the table and Gwen shared hello kisses with Deidre, then Zoe. Then Zoe kissed my cheek quite extravagantly, hanging a bell on her drunken, over-the-line dancing the last time we had gotten together.

Gwen just grabbed my ass in the darkness. I made no move to swat her hand away...

There was a liter bottle of fucking Belvedere on the table, with ice, glasses, and mixers.

"You got fucking Bottle Service?" I asked Sammy incredulously. It was expensive here. Bottle service was expensive everywhere, but especially at Vein.

"Not me," Sammy laughed, pouring a round of shots. "Moneybags there popped for it," he shrugged in Deidre's direction.

"I sold two houses this week!" she said excitedly. "I figured karma would want me to share the wealth."

Looked like we'd once more all be getting drunker than usual tonight.

Gwen and I peered at each other speculatively in the dark as we both let that thought sink in.

We hadn't really talked about how our new... game might go on with these guys. Or even if having it go on would be appropriate. We had barely talked much about what we might really let happen with Ron and Cathy, either.

I got the feeling that we both liked not really talking it out. It made things more... interesting.

"I have a bucket of beers coming too," Sammy added. "So we can slow things down and not just drink vodka all night."

"You mean so we can get even drunker than we would off of seven ounces of pure vodka each?" I asked.

Even this far from the blacklights, I could see Sammy's teeth. He was obsessive about them, and I swear they glow in the dark without UV...

It took but two shots before Gwen and I were on the dance floor. She looked sensational out there, and I even got a "Nice shirt!" from a very voluptuous girl in a glowing platinum blonde wig that she must have bought for this club. The wig was striking. It held my gaze for several of the thirty seconds she was dancing near us. The rest of that time, my gaze was held by her swaying bosom in her low-cut tight orange top. She had found some glitter that glowed in the UV and sprinkled it all over the exposed flesh of her tits, especially deep down between. She looked like some kind of fairy hooker, which I was certain had been her intent.

Tinkertits moved away, and I swung my gaze back to Gwen, who was giving me a provoked look. Once upon a time, I might have gotten an arch, or even an irritated look. Now, I got a provoked one. "Gonna try to dance with that one later?" I was teased.

"Doubt it," I grinned.

"Gonna try to dance with her boobs later?"

"That's more tempting," I grinned. But honestly, there was no way. Whatever 'provocations' Gwen and I got up to, I did not foresee it happening with random strangers. I sensed the same from Gwen, again without talking about it.

It did not take any immediate provocation to get Gwen or me going lately, anyway. We had enough provocation banked to leave us practically full-time horny around each other. Thank God, it seemed to only be when we were around each other. Spending all day at work with a hard-on that was craving Gwen's mouth would have been miserable.

Right now, we were simply grooving on the dance floor, ignoring any of the various formal styles we knew that could have worked with this electronica shit--just writhing pretty much all over each other. It was fun, although I wished I could come up with more ways to cop a feel of Gwen's breasts, right out there on the floor. My non-fluorescent hands might be practically invisible in the UV-only light, but they sure showed up as stark black silhouettes when I tried planting them on the white of Gwen's dress.

Three dances were usually enough for us for half, if not the whole night's clubbing, and we left the floor after that number. But I sensed we both had a desire for more dancing tonight than usual.

And not always with each other.

Sammy was not at the table when we returned to it. "He on the hunt?" I asked Zoe and Deidre.

"Some girl wearing a belt that was bucking for promotion to skirt walked by and he hared off in hot pursuit," Zoe said gaily.

"You two were going at it out on the floor," Deidre immediately teased us. "Could I see your hand right on Gwen's chest out there, you horndog?" I just barked a non-denying laugh. "You got him hot and horny out there fast, Gwen," she added.

"Yeah? Well, I think you showed two weeks ago that you know how to get him that way, too," Gwen grinned back.

Her bluntness took both girls aback, but the smile in Gwen's voice, more of a leer, really, set them at ease again instantly.

Deidre tried to give as good as she was taking. "Careful, or I'll do it to him again after another drink or two!" she teased.

Gwen looked at her. Then she poured a shot of pure vodka and shoved it at Deidre like a dare. "Go for it," she purred. It was nice being somewhere the music wasn't so loud that you could purr and still be heard.

Deidre looked at the shot, then at me, then peered back at Gwen in the gloom. Gwen just stared at her, the dare still in her eyes.

Deidre squinted back and downed the shot. She gasped a little. The girls usually diluted theirs. Gwen grabbed me with one arm and Deidre with the other and shoved us away from the wall and toward the floor.

Zoe whooped encouragement.

We almost stumbled onto the floor, not because either of us was drunk, but because we had rushed through the crowd. Deidre and I started dancing almost cautiously. "Does she seriously want me to try and horn you up out here?" she asked suspiciously.

I just smiled and shrugged. "I think she wants you to do what you want to do!"

"Ha! I think you want me to horn you up out here," she laughed.

"I think you should do what you want to do," I simply repeated. I let my eyes tell her that I would, in fact, be more than fine with that eventuality, not that I wasn't mostly horned up already.

Our dance began, um, slowly. Deidre kept her distance, something entirely and completely absent the last time we danced. I was momentarily disappointed, but then I began to watch as her hands ran all over her torso. They even started to smooth and tighten the fabric of her blouse over her tits.

Deidre is the smallest of our circle of friends in the size department, but she was living proof that my eye could be drawn to smaller chests as well. Especially when her hands were running over her tits like they were, tugging on the glowing lime green fabric of her tight top. The garment was slightly stretchy, which made for an interesting effect. When she tugged, it got just barely translucent in the black light. I suddenly learned that Deidre's aureoles were strikingly dark in contrast to the skin of her breasts, and about the size of quarters.

Enchanting.

After another few strokes by her hands over her chest as she swayed in front of my obvious gaze, the fabric also demonstrated that it highlighted pokies quite efficiently.

"You tried out how that new blouse looks in blacklight before you came here, right?" I challenged.

"No shit, Sherlock!" she laughed. "I'm here to dance with more guys than you!" she added superiorly. But she had definitely been planning on dancing with me...

Suddenly, that distance between us? Yeah. Got that shit out of the way quickly. Our arms wrapped around each other, holding us firmly against one another, and our hips ground in circles of perfect unison.

Yeah, I was rapidly producing a hard-on, and she was fully aware of that process.

Once Deidre fully enjoyed the completion of said erection, she resumed trying to tease me. "I saw your hands on Gwen's tits out here earlier," she said, leaning her face perilously close to mine. "I see other dude's thinking they can get away with it in 'the dark'." She gyrated on me at an angle to feel maximum dick against her belly. "Are you going to try to get away with grabbing one of mine?" she asked, teasing hard, but a little uncertain.

Don't poke this bear, girl. Not these days.

"Probably," I said. "If you stay this close to me."

Her eyes widened, but she did not pull away.

Gwen better be watching, because she was about to be provoked.

I knew damn good and well she was watching.

I turned us a little bit, and actually let some visible space open between us as Deidre and I danced. When I had the angle right, I damn sure did swing my hand between us and caressed her sweet tittie. When she didn't freak, only shivered, I even took my fingertip on a brief but comprehensive journey, circling that erect nipple through the fabric. I made sure that, while I wasn't being blatant about it for all to see, we were at an angle that Gwen sure could, since I knew she was paying attention.

"For real?" Deidre gasped, still not pulling away.

"Mind?" I challenged.

"Not beyond the blown mind," she sort of gasped. Then she plastered herself to me again, trapping my hand against her breast. "You can leave that there for a minute," she said in my ear. We danced on, once more pressed hard together.

A small, but still high-quality tit indeed.

When we finally left the dance floor, I looked at our friend and was amused to see that the nipple I had been palming and occasionally teasing for the last song and a half was still desperately tenting the green of her blouse, while the other one was barely making an impression at all. Her long, messily curled, dishpan blonde hair that glowed only a little in the UV flowed over her chest, more highlighting her tits than concealing them.

Gwen was giving us an unreadable gaze. Zoe was staring at us like I was an alien.

Deidre almost missed a step at Gwen's stare. Then she rallied. "Challenge accepted," she said defiantly.

Gwen grinned only a little bit evilly.

"Jesus, you guys," Zoe said. "Um, do I get a turn?"

Gwen just said, "Do you want one?"

I moved to stand behind Gwen. I wrapped my arms around her and let her experience my steel-hard cock press into her behind. She wiggled back against it.

"Give me a minute to enjoy hanging out like this," I said casually. Both girls looked at how I was standing behind Gwen and snorted. "Have another shot or two, Zoe, so you are ready..."

"Where did you get this cocky prick?" Zoe laughed to Gwen. But she poured herself a shot as she spoke and downed it with all deliberate haste.

Sammy reappeared, clueless as to the shenanigans, and I released Gwen as if I hadn't just been dry-humping her right at the table. "I didn't even see you dancing out there, Sammo. No joy with super short skirt?" Gwen asked.

"Did you find out if she even had underwear on under that 'skirt'?" Zoe asked, making air quotes with her fingers.

"She did not," Sammy said sourly. "But what she did have under there was her boyfriend's hand. I bailed, obviously."

"Oh, poor baby," Gwen said, actually caressing his cheek. "Want to dance with me, and I'll make it up to you?"

Poor Sammy did not know what to do with that offer.

"She's in a dancing mood tonight, bro," I said beside her. "Might as well take advantage."

Gwen shot me a look at that, but it wasn't angry. Foreboding, maybe. But my words had uprooted the shocked Sammy enough for her to get him moving toward the dance floor. And once they got going, he was more than eager. We had collectively already nuked half the bottle by then, after all.

The first song was pretty basic. They just danced. It was just what they had done the last time. They held each other close, Gwen grabbed his ass for a bit, then she spun and rubbed her own ass all over his already pants-tenting cock really hard. Basic stuff. All three of us back at the table were watching, though. The girls were not believing what they were seeing.

I was just waiting for more.

Sammy is learning a few proper dance steps, and Gwen conned him into trying a basic Hustle for the next song. Specifically, she wanted him spinning her around. She really got into that. And once Sammy saw and remembered what happened with The White Dress when Gwen spun, he spun her harder.

Unfortunately for my dude, when the dress was disced fully out, he had the worst view in the club, since he was so close. For anyone else who was far enough away to see below the centripetal disc, the shadows and the black lace of Gwen's undies left just a dark silhouette, making it a matter for the viewer's imagination whether she had anything on underneath or not.

I knew better, but I chose to believe she was naked under there, anyway.

Zoe choked at the look.

But Gwen stopped quickly, seeming to be dizzy. Sammy reached out to steady her, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They simply swayed like that for a moment before my woman tightened her grip around him, hopped up, and wrapped her legs firmly around his waist. Sammy wobbled but hung in there.

Then he 'helped support her in place' by putting his hands firmly on and under her ass. She just snuggled her face harder into the crook of his neck and... kinda twerked in his arms in time with the beat, working her groin around against what had to be now painfully tented slacks.

Hope you got your cock aligned properly in there, or this will be the most uncomfortably awesome ride you've ever had, dude.

I adjusted my own tent, which was certainly getting uncomfortable itself.

As the two of them went at it on the dance floor in front of everybody, Deidre and Zoe flanked me behind the table, watching in fascination.

"You are seriously okay with how much Sammy has his hands on her ass?" Zoe asked, not quite in disbelief.

"Why not?" I shrugged, keeping my eyes firmly on the dance. On a whim, to blow their minds, I put my arms around the girl to either side of me, safely above the waist.

They leaned forward to stare at each other around me.

They seemed to want to blow my mind in turn, so they each moved closer to me, causing my hands to fall a bit lower.

Game on. I let my hands fall further, until I was cupping both asses in my hands, eyes still firmly on Gwen.

But I did not leave my hands there long, and slowly slid my hands back up. Gwen was focused on Sammy, and could not see me anyway, so what was the point?

The point was, both those asses felt amazing. So I dropped my hands back down again. This was tolerated.

Great friends.

I released them both when Sammy finally put Gwen down, and they came back to the table. The second Gwen was back with us, Sammy pissed off somewhere.

It was kind of cool having a specimen like Sammy seem sort of afraid of me, but I'd have to corner him somewhere, probably mid-week before we got together again, to set his nerves at ease.

"That was quite the show you guys put on," Zoe said with a smile. "Um... We, uh... do you still feel Sammy's handprints?"

I shot her a glare. Zoe didn't wilt, but she did withdraw a hair. I winked at her, though I wasn't sure she could see it.

"What she is trying to figure out if she should do," I told Gwen, "is to tell you that back here, I was grabbing both their asses while you were riding Sammy like a pole."

Gwen looked at me, then she looked at Deidre and said, "Niiiiiice." Cruelly, she ignored Zoe.

"My turn for a dance," Zoe said, as if in revenge for the slight.

"Not yet," I drawled, arrogantly backing Gwen's play. "You need another drink or two, and I want to hold my girl for a bit."

Zoe humphed as I moved to pull Gwen to me, putting myself between her and the wall as she bent over the table. We all looked out at the floor to see what was happening.

Gwen idly tried to torture me by rocking her ass on my pants.

But for my part, I was observing how hard it was back here to merely make out Zoe and Deidre right beside us. With a wicked grin, I tugged up on the back of my woman's dress skirt. All the way up, so I could rub my hand directly on those delicate black lace panties.

Except all I could feel was skin.

Holy shit! Gwen had ditched her underwear at some point, and it had to have been before she was doing all those twirls out on the floor. There was still no way anyone in the club could have discerned for sure that she was naked underneath, but she had to know what they could... not see!

"Naughty girl!" I murmured in her ear.

"I didn't think you'd find out here, but I was looking forward to the reveal," she cooed back.

Since my hand was in the neighborhood, I thought it only right to reach under and give her pussy some highly encouraging caresses. From the damp and heat I felt, she was already pretty encouraged.

It really was dark back here. And even if someone looked really hard, the high-top table in front of us, with its floor-length black tablecloth and the girls to either side, had me and Gwen almost entirely invisible below the chest back here. The music easily covered the sound of my zipper going down.

My woman showed amazing aplomb as she felt the first touch of my cock against her labia. She made no noise. Better, she leaned a little further forward.

I kept my own voice below the level of the music, which was hard, as I wanted to shout in excitement as I penetrated Gwen and sank gloriously into her depths. Sammy had her more than just ready. She felt like she was inhaling me down there.

The idea was to be casual about this, so I thrust very, very slowly. I usually need speed to get me off, and this was not going to do it. But criminies, I was gonna feel on the edge.

I became dimly aware, despite my focus on stealth fucking my lady, that Gwen, Zoe, and Deidre were all intently watching a couple going at it pretty hot and heavy on the dance floor. The girl had her legs up around the guy in what had to be a conscious imitation of Gwen and Sammy earlier.

I thanked the couple for the distraction and fucked my wife, right on a night club floor with friends to either side of us. Gwen clenched down on me suddenly, and I thrust a little too hard. Our table rocked, and I froze.

Neither of our friends reacted, though, so I resumed my gentle, slow, subtle thrusts.

It was not long after that Zoe leaned forward to get Deidre's attention. "Do they not realize we know they are fucking right here beside us?"

"Shit," laughed Gwen, clenching down on my cock again.

"Actually, we are right here between you," I said, refusing to stop my long, slow motions.

Deidre could not help looking back at where we were connecting, though the dark was near absolute.

"Eyes front. I'm busy here," Gwen growled.

Neither Gwen nor I was much of an exhibitionist, so this was what one might call... uncharacteristic behavior for us. Even more weirdly, we were not freaked by Zoe and Deidre being there. They were buds, after all.

"Fickle man," Zoe said, flipping her hair. "Here you were, gabbing my ass, Deidre's too, not five minutes ago!"

"Thanks for that," Gwen laughed, widening both their eyes. "Between you two, and what Sammy got up to, you all aroused him enough for this lovely treat."

"Oh sure," Deidre snorted. "That's all the thanks we get?"

"How about this?" I asked, sounding as sincere as I could manage. I reached out and once more grabbed both girls' asses.

Gwen actually realized what I was doing before it fully registered for either shocked girl. She shot me the quickest of provoked glances over her shoulder, but almost immediately bent low again and chuckled, using the opportunity to let out a few relieving moans amid the laughter.

The girls stiffened when they simultaneously realized that I had really done this right here with Gwen, um, present. But neither jumped away.

Okay, I kept right on plunging slowly in and out of Gwen, but did my best to squeeze, pinch, grope, fondle, and most of all tease the both of them to the very best of my ability.

"We are fucking psychos," Gwen giggled. I kind of had to agree with her.

"You are certainly a psycho, Gwen," Zoe said tartly. "This is..." she sputtered to a stop.

"What more do you want?" Gwen snorted. Zoe could lump it, as far as she was concerned in this moment.

"What more do I want?" Zoe gleeped. My hand may have just wandered down low enough on her ass to slip a finger or two down under. "If this keeps up, I may want a fucking turn!"

"Not until I'm done," Gwen snorted firmly. "Maybe after that..."

I missed Zoe's reaction to that.

What? Had an offer just been made? What the actual fuck? I didn't think so, but I wasn't sure.

Zoe wasn't either.

Regardless, I kept me hands on both asses. If anything, Deidre was moving like she was enjoying it more than Zoe.

Sammy walked back up, again clueless of what had happened and what was still happening. He knew the four of us were all standing on the back side of the table, but he could hardly see anything more, even from four feet away. "Hey guys!" he said casually.

We all laughed, and he looked at us to inquire about the joke. We all just waved it off as unimportant. I did stop thrusting, but kept my cock invisibly inside Gwen in the dark. There was no way Sammy knew anything other than that I was standing behind her somewhere.

"Listen, don't look for me too much tonight," Sammy said in quiet excitement. "I'm going to want to have you help me advertise like that again in the future, Gwen!"

"Oh, you want to 'advertise' like that some more?" Gwen said slyly.

Sammy immediately flinched from me. "Uh, yeah." He smiled almost shyly. Sammy? Shy? "Girls are all over me out there," he whisper-shouted at us.

"Then get out of here before I get jealous," Gwen husked. Sammy biffed off eagerly, but not without shooting a lingering glance at my woman. I couldn't see, but it was probably fairly hungry. I instantly resumed fucking her, maybe a little harder.

I realized that I was never going to come like this. And I had never really intended to get off anyway, just wanting to enjoy a crazy moment. But while I had not expected to be able to make Gwen come either, it became increasingly apparent that I was going to, in fact, achieve that. She reached out and grabbed one each of Deidre's and Zoe's hands on the table. They squeezed back. I tried to go a little harder, thrusting into the steamy paradise of Gwen's body.

"This is fucking crazy," Deidre almost whispered.

Zoe said nothing, just clutching back harder at Gwen's hand. Her other hand swept behind her and grabbed my wrist. But instead of pulling my hand away from her ass, she pushed my fingers back down and once more between her legs.

Deep between her legs.

Zoe bent her head almost immediately and moaned a little herself. Gwen looked at her breathlessly. "Really?" she asked Zoe.

"Didn't feel like waiting my turn," Zoe ground out.

"What are you two talking about?" Deidre asked, wiggling her butt in my grip casually.

Zoe just moaned a little more. Gwen turned to Deidre and almost hissed. "Tell him you want it too."

"Too? What? He's busy right..." Deidre said, then looked at Zoe's bowed head. Her eyes widened, and she looked at me. I just stared back at her. Here I was fucking my lady, fingering our one friend, but my eyes were locked on our other in the noisy gloom.

She never reacted. She never asked. But she never flinched. I lowered the hand under her ass too.

Zoe was wearing skin-tight hot pants with white trim that glowed when she was on the dance floor. Deidre was wearing a super short, sausage casing-tight skirt, and my fingertips slipped below the hem almost instantly.

My fingers explored the outlines of Zoe's labia through the spandex of her shorts. Hell, I was done exploring. I'd found exactly where Zoe needed my fingers to be. I kept fucking my Gwen, who obviously wore nothing down there. And I was now fingering Deidre, who had definitely worn panties with a skirt that short. But though I hadn't seen the underwear, I knew its sole function was to block vision. It certainly was no barrier to sensation between my fingers and her twat. In either direction.

Deidre gasped and then whimpered. I really was not fingering either of our friends that crazily intently, and certainly not for that long, but the sensation of doing it all together, with my dick pumping slowly, metronomically into Gwen between them, in what would be full view of the whole bar if the lights somehow came on, had both of them going nuts.

I began to wonder if I could make all three girls come.

I could not. But I could make my lady do it! I felt her groan, and I saw her squeezing the girls' hands almost painfully now. Gwen dropped her face to shove her mouth against the surface of the table and squealed just loudly enough to not be noticed. Her insides trembled around me, and her hips rocked violently.

Then she lay there, my movement stopping inside her, as she caught her breath. I was so focused on her, I stopped my digital manipulation of Zoe and Deidre. But I did not withdraw my fingers.

"You guys haven't come," Gwen said, lifting her head and looking to either side. "Yet."

"Oh God, no!" Zoe exclaimed, coming out of whatever spell had her jamming my fingers in her crotch. She twisted away from my fingers. "If I come in these pants, people will see, even in here! I've got to go to the ladies' room anyway, to clean up!"

Deidre seemed quite inclined to hang in there, but when I caressed her clit again but once, she twisted free of my fingers as well. "This was... wow! But yeah, I need to clean up too!" She stepped around the table with Zoe.

I pulled out of Gwen and let her dress fall easily back into place. With less effort than I expected, I tucked my still hard cock away.

"You won't still be here when we get back, will you?" Deidre asked Gwen, pretending not to look my way. But I could tell she was straining to see my cock as I put it back in my pants. I wondered how good her night vision was. I slowed my tucking motion to give her at least a chance... I wasn't being exhibitionist with that. This was just Deidre. And probably Zoe, but I wasn't looking that way.

"No fucking way will we still be here," Gwen snorted. "My man didn't come either, and I'm going to need to fix that, hopefully repeatedly."

"You guys have gone insane," Deidre shook her head.

"I kind of like it, though," Zoe added, "as long as you don't get us banned from any clubs!"

I laughed. "No guarantees."

Deidre looked shocked. Then smiled hesitantly.

They left together.

"You do want to go home now so you can paint my face or something, right?" Gwen asked archly.

"Desperately," I replied. We slid out from behind the table and toward the exit, signaling a waitress to secure the bottle until someone got back to the table.

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And so we sail along. Thanks for sticking with this weird journey! As always, I appreciate your votes. Please favorite so you can keep up with when the next chapter shows up. And as always, I'm paid in comments, so do keep letting me know which girls' names I mixed up this week...