Irene's Story - Chapter 2: Oscar Takes Me Dancing - Sex Stories

Irene's Story - Chapter 2: Oscar Takes Me Dancing

... your last chance; are you sure you want me to do this?" "Irene, I am so aroused now. I love you so much. Please don't pull back now. Please don't stop." "Alright, if you are sure." I paused before asking the next question. "Oscar, what are the rules?" Oscar looked puzzled, like he did not understand the question. "Oscar, how far am I allowed go? Seriously, you sending me into a bar, dressed like this. You have told me to let men touch me. How far do you want me to take this. You need to know, I am doing this for you." "Irene, I want you to go as far as you can. I want you to push your limits tonight." I sighed and simply said, "I sure hope you know what you are doing. I hope you can handle what might happen. You need to know, this is your last chance to stop this." "Baby, you go for it tonight," was all he said. I was scared, but I was determined to test the limits now. I was going to find out if Oscar really could handle seeing me with other men. I remember saying to myself, Okay, let's see how he likes seeing me respond to another man's touch. We entered the disco. The laser lights were spinning and the music was almost deafening. I took a seat at the bar, and Oscar captured a table immediately adjacent to the dance floor. I ordered a vodka cranberry juice. As I sipped my drink, a young man, maybe twenty-two to twenty-four years old approached the bar. He was tall, at least by my standards, very well-built and had an infectious smile. His steel blue eyes and blonde hair ...

... gave him a Nordic look. If I had to guess, I would guess him to be Norwegian or Swedish. He smiled at me. In an awkward attempt to break the ice, he asked, "What are you drinking pretty lady?" His accent left no doubt, my young suitor was Norwegian. I thought, game on . I was pleased that I had attracted a 'fan' so quickly. "Just some vodka and cranberry juice," I answered, waiting for his next move. "So do you come here often?" "No, this is my first time here. I am a novice," I answered honestly. "Well what made you decide to grace us with your presence tonight?" my Norwegian friend asked. I decided that there was no reason to lie. So I told the complete truth, "Well, honestly, my husband brought me here tonight." The look on his face was priceless. He did not know what to say or do. All he could say was, "Your husband brought you here. Why are you sitting alone at the bar?" I thought for a moment. I decided to continue my approach of complete, unadulterated honesty, "Well, he was concerned that if he sat with me, it might discourage other young men, like you, from approaching me and asking me to dance. What is your name, by the way?" I inquired. I was not prepared to allow men to fondle me if I did not even know there names. "I am Johan. Actually, I am Lars Johan, but most people call me Johan." "Johan, I am Irene; and I think you are cute, oh so very cute. Would you like to dance with me?" Johan led me to the dance floor. We passed by Oscar's table. I smiled and he winked at ...