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”“Yes, that’s a possibility, but we could also be drowning in a sea debt just trying to pay the mortgage.”Angie frowned and drank some of her wine.For the next hour, we chatted and drank. Then Angie started to fidget in time with the music. A cue for me to get up and take her onto the dance floor; Angie has always been the same. I have to accompany her for that first dance, after that she is happy to dance all night on her own.Most of the music was quiet instrumental, background music but some people were dancing to it, mostly couples who were smooching slowly around the floor. The music certainly wasn’t the type Angie was used to so I got up and held out my hand, “You sure want to do this, it’s not your normal music?”Angie smiled at me, “It’ll be okay.” She replied and took my hand.“Are you that desperate to dance then?”“Hey, it’s what I like,” she said still smiling, “Anyway I was beginning to think you weren’t going to ask.”On the dance floor, I pulled her close and we slowly moved. Why didn’t she stop what was happening? Why couldn’t she stop pumping juice and emotions hard into his hand. She felt like a pony, riding the hand as if it were offering food.Her pubis the nose, nuzzling the hand, hungrily searching for more, seeing that she hadn’t missed any! The fingers egged her on, as the harder erection eased up, and down, and up, and down, in the cleft of her angled-back ass. What was she most keen to give him? Her ass to screw or her pussy to fondle. She really didn’t know any more.To mask her gasps, and prevent the spate of her trembling from being telegraphed to husband Dave, she had eased away from him but in so doing her neighbour, the one with the beard and the down-cast eyes, could not fail to see what was happening.She looked at the top of his head, and felt his eyes as they roamed the dishevelment at the front of her shorts, and the forearm where it disappeared into the top of her shorts, the head rose up, and the darkest, deepest, eyes she thought.
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