Sid Farmer - Hot and horny weekend

Laura listened to him, feeling the warmth of his breath as he talked to her. He had moved closer so she could hear him over the pounding music. She suddenly felt very close to this gentle man. They were sharing an experience and she felt a kinship that only a shared loneliness can bring.

"I didn't know, George. I thought you and Abby were happy. I've never noticed anything that would make anyone suspect you were having problems too."

"Oh, we're good actors, Laura. It's been almost three years since we've really gotten along. We haven't even been to bed together in the last year. I sleep out in the guest room."

Laura was shocked. "I had no idea. Here I've been brooding about my life and I'm in heaven compared to you." She leaned over and kissed his cheek affectionately.

George smiled under the flashing strobes. It was going even easier than he thought. "Is it all right to ask what is wrong between you and Bill?" he ventured.

"I'd tell you if I knew," Laura said. "But I don't. I thought it was his work, but even on the weekends he's too busy for me. I guess I'm just losing my sex appeal. I'm old before my time."

"Nonsense," Laura's neighbor said. "There isn't a man in this room who wouldn't want to take you to bed right now."

"George, you're so sweet."

"Let's dance," George suggested. "The music is slower for a minute or two. They've got to give those dancers a break sometime."

The couple joined the throng that headed for the dance floor; there were always more people dancing when the music slowed. Laura swung into George's arms and felt them close protectively around her. The drug's effect was at its full power as their bodies met and started to dance to the slow rhythm, and the drum seemed to beat in tune with Laura's heart as she followed George slowly around the floor.

Her voluptuous breasts were strained through her dress against him and because she wore no brassiere, the taut nipples nearly pierced the thin, sheer material. Bill never let her wear a brassiere, saying that it weakened her pectoral muscles, and he was right, she thought as she felt her tingling breasts crush harder against George's strong body. She could feel his leg slip between hers as they danced, and a light dampness eased its way from her trembling vagina to the rosy pink lips of her pussy. She had never felt like this by just dancing. There seemed to be no explanation for the fire that was beginning to build deep inside her, and she tried tentatively to pull away from George. Making Bill jealous was a good plan, but she certainly didn't want to go too far.

But her neighbor had other plans. He knew the potion he'd put in the drinks was affecting the girl as it was starting to affect him, and instead of allowing her to move away he tightened his grip around her slender waist and pulled her tighter to him. And even though afraid, Laura felt a kind of comfort in his strong arms. Her drug-weakened body clung involuntarily to him as though she suddenly had lost all control over it.

The young wife closed her eyes, trying to shut out the flashing strobes, but their intense light shown through her eyelids and seemed to beat with undeniable insistency into her mind. The tempo of the music had increased, yet the two still held close to each other, still danced with their bodies molded as one. Laura's mind was starting to play sexual fantasies somewhere deep within her, and, unbelievably, her body was responding. She could feel her heaving breasts crushed against George's chest, with only the thin veneer of light summer clothing between his hirsute manliness and her tautly aroused nipples.

The music, liquor and aphrodisiac had become too much for the helpless young woman. She opened her eyes and, seeing a single topless dancer undulating on the stage, she began to dance the same patterns as the girl as she pushed away from George. She jerked her body in rhythm to the wild beat, throwing her arms out, feeling her bra-less breasts bounce unencumbered beneath the sheer white of her summer dress. She was perspiring and breathing heavily, aware only of the hot flashes of aroused abandonment that were beginning to course through her drug-filled body.

As she danced, she watched the single topless girl on the stage as though hypnotized. Instead of being embarrassed, as perhaps she would normally have been, she was intent on becoming that girl, or becoming as free, as passionate, as sexually liberated as that girl must be. The dancer's dark-nippled breasts moved with mesmerizing grace under the glaring influence of the rotating lights, and Laura's imagination transported herself to the strobe-lit stage, dancing half-naked in front of more than two hundred people, throwing her arms in the controlled sensual movements of a professional Go-Go Girl.

Her frantically undulating hips jerked to the beat, in perfect rhythm with her dancing breasts. She felt free, alive. She was in a sexual fantasy world of her own, but wanting, needing a man. Suddenly, the dancer on the stage unfastened her g-string and let it fall to the floor, purposefully exposing the thinly open slit of her clean-shaven pussy. But Laura felt no shock at the sudden display, so wrapped up was she in her own imagination. Instead she remained dancing, imagining herself now totally naked as well. To her drug-dazzled mind, reality was not on the dance floor, but on the stage. She was now that girl. She was now totally exposed before the crowd. Her aroused loins were on fire and for the first time in months she felt like a woman! She was a woman!

Laura looked at George, dancing three feet from her, imitating the same soul searing movements of the dance she was doing, and she began dancing for him, not even aware of who he was, only that he was a man. This for the moment, was her man… and… she was his woman!

The fire up between her spasming thighs grew hotter as she threw up her arms and tossed her head from side to side in a dance that began more and more to imitate the sexual act. Her frantically moving hips thrust forward, again and again, and George responded by moving closer, grinding his heavy pelvis at her as though he were taking her right there on the dance floor. Their grinding and jerking bodies were only inches from each other now, and one of George's legs was moving between hers as they danced, rubbing maddeningly against the satiny flesh of her exposed upper thigh. Her mini-skirt was hiked high on her rhythmically moving legs as she bent backward and forward in the most primeval motions of dance.

As though entranced, the young wife watched her partner's hand reach out slowly toward her like a snake in the Garden of Eden, beckoning, urging her to come closer. The hand found her waist and drew her closer until their bodies touched at their loins. Laura gasped as she felt his huge penis hard beneath his trousers, straining at her involuntarily. She ground her hips against him, her mouth open, breathing heavily, spurred salaciously on by the growing fire inside her. The lights flashed in brilliant colors on her half-open eyelids and she put her hand on the back of his neck, leaning backward, pushing her desire-inflamed loins against his straining penis. She stared at him as though he were a stranger, her eyes searching for his identity. Each beat of the drum pounded at her, exciting her further, and she could almost feel their naked bodies touching. She imagined them to be on a bed, ready for each other, ready for the final thrust that would connect their flesh together.

Suddenly, George pulled her closer, and kissed her brutally, crushing her lips against his open mouth, thrusting his tongue deep into her throat.

Oh my God, she thought. What is happening! The shock of her neighbor's sudden kiss forced its way into her aroused and drugged brain, turning her to ice as she came abruptly to her senses. She wanted the kiss, needed it desperately, but she knew it was wrong, horribly wrong.