Husband and I once went upstairs, I hiked up my red dress, lay in a capeted closet, and he unzipped his suit fly, lay on top of me, and began thrusting away. About 5 minutes later the host peeks in, blushes, and goes to check on the other guests without saying a word. We know the host, and are sure he enjoyed the encounter. After he left, and I overcame being flustered, we returned to the fuck with a renewed sense of the wild transgressiveness of what we we doing. The host was all smiles the rest of evening, and took some opportunities to dance with me especially close (his hand exploring the countours of my back and the top of my ass). I, meanwhile, spent the next hour or so floating on that just-fucked cloud.
--fantasm