I look meaningfully at my husband, hoping he’ll notice the inflection there. He notices, and has his argument ready. “They were checking out your ...EGS, not your shoes. I’m telling you, real men don’t care anything about shoes, except how easily they can be kicked off when you’re climbing into bed. Or how fast you can run in them when we’re chasing you.” Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. But I continue anyway. We danced for about an hour, and I had a few more drinks. After a while, my feet started. 'My wife grabbed my cock and started stroking it.'Oh baby, I've been a bad girl', she said. 'I was a little drunk and he was so persistent and kinda cute. I was just so angry at you from before and I wanted to get back at you and so... well... I pulled my dress down a little and flashed him.''Is that all?' I mumbled with half my wife's tit in my mouth.'Erm, no', she replied. 'Well, I kind of let him touch them. He just began cupping them before I had chance to cover up and well... it kind of. More

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