Down a flight of stairs into smokey, dark noisey place. The music was pouring up the stairs at a throbbing beat. Late '70's and early '80s rock, Polic..., Skynard, Cars that sort of thing. Loud danceable stuff. I shuffled down the stairs and saw a row of stools outside of the main floor, looked like kind of a staging area. 4 stools and a rectangular opening that gave one a view of the inside of the bar. The smell of smoke, perfume and liquor permeated the air. The band was close to the end of. "It's later, babe," Jack whispered. His questing fingers found her opening. He eased one inside her, slowly opening her up. His finger buried inside her, he brushed his thumb across her nubbin, eliciting a sound from his beautiful wife. "Mmmmmmmmm..." she moaned softly. "If you don't stop... ohhhhh... You're gonna have to find a broom closet and fuck me proper, Mister..." "Sorry, Love," he whispered in her ear. "A broom closet is out of the question." Again Paige's eyes fluttered wide open. . Ms J reached out and rubbed my crotch and chuckled. "Look at this Mr T, look how wet her little cunt is." She slapped me again! Even harder! My eyes welled up with tears. "That's for pretending that you don't like every second of this." I nodded and apologized. I apologized! Did I actually do that? Yes. Yes I did. "Now take those little panties off."I nodded and took them off. I had them in my hand and Ms J just snatched them away from me. "These belong to us now." I nodded and kinda tried to. I threw off my dress and pulled on her skirt, turning to look in the mirror as I zipped up the back. I was doing up her jacket and reaching for her hat as Ingrid emerged from the bathroom. "Well, well," she said with a mischievous grin. "You've missed your calling." My face turned red with embarrassment as Ingrid settled into an armchair and crossed her long legs, looking me over from head to toe. She was wearing a flimsy pair of my see-through, low-cut panties and a silk camisole that revealed.