"How do I look, Gareth?" I giggled, entering the living room knowing exactly how I looked.
I was wearing my little black party dress, which fell short, just below my waist, and hugged every outline, contour and highlight of my body, from my pert arse to my plump breasts. I never wore anything underneath it and relished the liberal touch of the fabric against my skin; it always made me feel so sexy. Gareth, the bassist in my husband Neil's band, whose birthday was the very reason for our going out tonight, gazed up from his beer open-mouthed, not knowing where to look.
"Come on, 'Szul," I heard as I felt my husband's hand on my shoulder. "We’re gonna be late."
As we passed through the hall towards our waiting taxi, I caught myself in the mirror, my blonde hair falling in curls of perfect contrast against the midnight blackness of my dress, resting softly on my breasts, which rose from my chest and rippled with each tentative, high-heeled step. Yes, I knew exactly how I looked.
I settled down in the back of the cab and stretched out my freshly-shaven legs. I gazed down to the tiny, black straps of my sexy little shoes, which pulled against my calves and accentuated their texture and shape. Continuing past the discarded cab cards, sweet wrappers and fragments of magazines that strewed the floor like confetti, my eyes caught Gareth's, looking longingly along the lines of my legs toward the teasing slip of black fabric that stretched tightly across my thighs and concealed my naked pussy, and then further towards the curves and undulations of my body. His eyes skimmed my flat stomach, my manicured hands, the heaving mountains of my breasts straining against the tightness of my dress, and the dark ravine of my long cleavage.
Up front, my husband chatted mechanically with the cabbie about the weather and the government; I glanced at Gareth and tossed a stray curl off my shoulder and quickly looked down to smile to myself. I'd always fancied Gareth. What with that short shock of tight black curls, chiseled, masculine features, well-toned body, and his position in the band as the Dark, Mysterious One Playing Bass, who wouldn't? I also knew that he fancied me - even wearing trackies and a hoodie returning from the gym, I'd caught him with his eyes all over me - but we'd never taken it further. I'd never even dreamed of actually cheating on my husband. But a girl's allowed her fantasies, and as I purposefully crossed my legs - slowly enough to let Gareth know that I was naked beneath my little black dress - I felt a twinge of excitement settle in the pit of my stomach and the tiniest hint of moisture reach the lips of my pussy, sensitive and exposed to the drafts entering the cab from the passing city.
As I entered the club, holding my husband's hand, I could feel the eyes of other men, the heat of their collective last searing through each leer and yearning gaze. My nipples hardened in the slight, sharp early evening breeze as we brushed past the ageing doormen and I could feel it gently rising below my dress, swirling and lapping between my legs and licking my bare, damp cunt. God, I felt so good.
Once inside, I settled down to a sparkling white wine and mingled among assorted friends and acquaintances as Neil slipped off to talk to his. After a few drinks I felt sufficiently relaxed to hit the dance floor, seduced by the beats of a funk-era Etta James tune, given some extra bump and grind by the DJ in the booth at the far end of the club, glued diligently to his decks, Tell Mama. Sexy, sassy, and seductive. God, tonight that was me alright.
Strutting across the floor, I noted the eyes of every man who lowered his gaze to catch a glimpse of my bulging chest. I felt the dull touch of a torso against my lower back. It was Gareth. Emboldened by alcohol and the confidence that my little black dress gave me, I discretely bent my knees and eased myself into his crotch. I felt a firm hand grasp my hip and pull backwards. I could feel his abdomen, then a growing penis, push against my arse, barely concealed beneath my figure-hugging dress.
'I'm not the only one feeling a little bold,' I thought as I ground into his stiffening cock and straightened myself, craning my head against his chest. In my excitement I felt my nipples stiffen against the taut fabric of my dress and every hair stand on end, producing an electric feeling of anticipation throughout my entire body. As Gareth leaned forward, arching his head over my shoulder, he would have seen thiusands of tiny goosebumps shooting eagerly from the tops of my pale white breasts, shimmering under the gentle hum of soft violet light. I could feel warm breath against my neck as he brushed my hair aside with his spare hand, still grinding his crotch into my arse in circles of ever more lustful vigour, pulling my body towards him with his hand snaking up towards my stomach.
"You look fantastic," he whispered, sending waves of excitement down to my toes.
Turning towards him, I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on my tiptoes and giggled back, "I knew you liked it," before reaching down to discretely stroke his now full erection through his trousers. Oh my, how he wanted me!
"You know, I'm not wearing any panties," I teased, as I backed into him once more. I felt an arm wrap around my waist and a hand brush aside the bottom of my dress and caress my moist mound.
A hand turned to a finger - his second - which stroked the furrow of my cunt and quickly homed in on the coursing sensitivity of my clit. My head tilted back against his chest, my eyes closed and I felt his cock grow harder and stiffer against my lower back. The sexiness of it all! I could hear hungry moans turn to desperate pants as he positively thrust into me, smell the strange scent of a new man, feel the seductive rumble of the music across the floor and his illicit touch on my soaking pussy. I lifted my right arm over his shoulder and drew him into me, shut closed my eyes and bit my lower lip until it hurt. My legs started trembling. I bit harder and bucked against his hand. I couldn't take much more.
Then it stopped. In an instant, Gareth released me, stood back and straightened himself out. Before I could ask what was going on, I saw Neil approaching through a crowd of bodies and faces. I tugged down on the hem of my dress, brushed my hair with my hands and smiled to greet my husband.
"What are you two up to?" he asked.
"Nothing much," Gareth replied casually, as I looked to the floor to hide my blush.
"Come on, baby," Neil continued, “let's get you a drink.”
As my husband led me by the hand I looked back at Gareth with a knowing stare and watched him discretely smell his fingers.