This time he knew what she wanted, and gently took her into his arms. Subtly arching her hips forward, she rotated her cunt against his crotch. Leaning her head back and smiling up into his eyes, her pelvis pushed harder, grinding her pussy even tighter against him. His hand resting low on her back, he drew the arched girl closer, returning the pressure with his own groin. Dancing slowly in the corner of the room, their genitals were pressed together.

"You're a neat dancer," she smiled, rotating her pussy against the hard bulge that she felt growing in his crotch.

"Yeah," he grinned. "If this is called dancing."

"What would you call it?" she teased.

"I don't know," Charlie laughed. "If I think of something, I'll tell you."

"Why not call it fucking," she whispered into his ear.

Diane felt his cock lurch when she uttered the nasty word. Their conversation came to an end when other couples joined them on the floor. Holding each other closely in their arms, they danced in silence, their excited genitals grinding against each other.

Bob, who was sitting with Arline Crawford, watched the couple as he talked. It was obvious to him what Diane and Charlie were doing, but he was powerless to stop it. He was fully aware of his inability to sexually satisfy his wife and had purposely overlooked some discreet affairs she'd had during their two years of marriage. Loving her tremendously, he felt their relationship was perfect, except for sex. He painfully overlooked her little adventures rather than lose her.

It was painful to watch Diane offering another man the same joys that she denied him. He was gad that Arline's back was turned, sparing her the torture he was going through.

When the music stopped, the horny couple joined Bob and Diane. Watching his wife's flushed face and glazed eyes as the two couples talked, Bob could tell how sexually excited his wife was. How he wished he were capable of lighting such a fire in her body.