We had a nice dinner and some drinks… a bit more than we should but it was fun, Herbert would rub my back and my legs as we sat at the table, and he...would hold me close and massage my ass as we danced, a couple of other men cut in on us so I danced with them also, they were rugged looking black men, it looked strange me a 50 year old sightly over weight white women dancing with guys who could be my sons, Herbert told them he was my husband so things didn’t get to out of hand, although they did. Rob, my husband, certainly seemed still loving. He seemed concerned at my tender and bruised condition, but we had hardly said a word about the affair and each seemed preoccupied with our own thoughts as we drove home.My own overwhelming feeling was one of shame that I had been such a wanton slut, yes, that's the only word to describe me, ... a wanton slut for Gary, openly, enthusiastically and shameless with my husband watching.Over the ensuing week this feeling of shame persisted, especially. More

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