She was particularly pleased with the attention she was receiving from big Charlie Crawford. He was a sales representative for a manufacturing firm and spent most of his time on the road. His wife, Arline, was one of Diane's best friends, but because of Charlie's job, Diane had never known him very well. Over morning coffee Arline had often confided in Diane about his sexual prowess. She had once laughingly told Diane that with his sexual skill, she was certain that he had plenty of women on the road, but as long as he was such a fantastic performer at home, she didn't really care.

Diane wished she could say the same about Bob. She even wished that Bob had a string of women, if only to keep him away from her. The one blight of their two years of marriage was Bob's ineptness of making love. Diane was an extremely sexy person, and Bob's inadequate performance in bed was driving her crazy. She longed to feel a big, virile cock shooting a hot load into her hungry fuckhole.

As always, when Diane was drinking, she was getting horny. While talking to the male guests, she playfully touched their arms and hands, or when moving around, she would lightly brush her tits against a man.

Tonight, she was particularly pleased at the way Charlie Crawford's eyes followed her around the room. The way he looked at her sent hot tingles through her itching pussy. She had a wild desire to suck that big cock that Arline had told her so much about. God how she would love to have him fire a big torrent of his tangy cum-juice into her mouth.

When the stereo began playing a slow melody from the big band era, she staggered unsteadily across the room toward Charlie.

"Hi Charlie," she smiled at him. "Do you want my hod?"

"What?" he grinned, not knowing quite what she meant.

"D'ya wanta hold my horny little body, and pretend we're dancing," she giggled suggestively.