Sharon Asks Matt

Sharon walked over to where Matt was sitting. With Sharon standing, and Matt in the chair, her pussy was staring him in the face. Or it would have been, if not covered by that tiny triangle laughingly called a swimsuit. She was standing so close to him that he could see the razor burns on her bare pubic region. In response to her asking him to dance, he at first demurred, saying he had always been too shy to dance in public.

"Too shy!" she exclaimed, pointedly staring down at his lap. His cock was as hard as ever. Sticking up proudly. The head glistening with pre-cum. "You've been going back and forth serving drinks and food with that . . . that thing on display. Now don't suddenly tell me that you are too shy. Come on. Dance with me."

The whole time she was talking, she was adjusting and then re-adjusting her micro bikini. All the wives seemed to be constantly tugging, and plucking, and positioning their swimsuits. As if they knew that their attire did not provide anywhere near enough coverage.

They started off normally enough with arms waving and bodies swaying. Each time one of Sharon's hands brushed up against Matt's erection, it looked like an accident. But by the second dance, Sharon would openly grab his hard-on, giving it a few tugs before releasing it and stepping back a bit. Or she would reach down to scoop up his balls, fondling them with her fingers before letting them plop back in place.

The more she teased him, the more he leaked pre-cum. The clear liquid would puddle up on the head until so much had accumulated that it would dribble off. It made his dick look like a tree branch in winter with an icicle.

It reached the point where every time she would touch his private parts, he would whimper and his body would shake. Finally, after teasing him for who knew how long, she took mercy on him and asked, "Do you want me to get you off?"