Make her 'fess up

"What seems to be the problem here?"

The woman turned and looked Horner up and down, sneering at his outfit. "This stupid bitch won't let my girl be captain of the danceline, REGARDLESS of the fact that she's the most talented in the district!"

Horner frowned and gripped the wishbone tightly. "That's not really the reason you're upset, is it?"

The woman frowned back and grumbled. "Of course it isn't. My daughter can't dance worth a damn... I'm just trying to make up for the fact that I never made line captain..."

"That's not everything, either, is it?"

"No..." she blushed. "Watching all those girls dance gets me so worked up... it's the only way I can get horny enough for my husband to fuck me, anymore."

"Maybe you should entice him more, then. Since it was obviously your skimpy dance costume that won him in the first place, maybe you should wear it for him more often."

She frowned in concentration, then nodded. "I suppose you're right. Sorry for wasting your time, Miss Henderson."

Miss Henderson's eyes widened in astonishment at the woman's admissions and she watched her stalk off, muttering to herself and pressing her hands against her body, trying to mold it into to form it had once held. She turned to Horner. "Thank you, Paul. I was almost sure that she was going to deck me or something soon. How did you get her to come clean so fast?" She shuddered, making her breasts shift under her dance outfit. "Particularly given what she HAD to admit."