I remembered what Bassey humorously called “the predator’s assessment”, and he was already boldly using this selection technique with the women at the party. I didn’t want to see his ego hurt, but his tricks were sometimes pretty fun to watch.
A number of years ago, Bassey had instructed me that this “predator’s assessment” started with an innocent one-on-one chat with a woman. At a certain point in the conversation, he would look intently into her eyes.
When he had her full attention, he would purposefully drop his gaze to examine her breasts and nipples in detail, making sure she was watching him. After enough time for her to clearly recognize that he was evaluating her potential for his later use, he would raise his eyes once again directly to hers. If she smiled at him, he knew he had found the woman he would probably be riding that night. If she frowned, he figured she would be a difficult illy to break in. Not impossible, just more work.
After watching him move around the room from woman to woman, virtually ignoring his male guests, I headed for the kitchen to freshen our drinks. He quickly closed on Dara. I watched as they bantered for a couple of minutes. Then I saw him lower his eyes to examine Dara’s breasts with the precision of a surgeon.
He looked back up at my wife, and she predictably gave him the infrequent third response. Dara chuckled nervously and nervously covered a breast with her hand. This was Bassey’s favourite response. He knew this type of woman would make for a wonderful pursuit… and Dara also offered the attraction that she would be the most gorgeous woman he had ever captured.
At this point, I remembered what Bassey was most accomplished at. It was indeed breaking a woman’s inhibitions and bending her spirit to his will. I stopped being worried about Bassey and started worrying instead about the women at his party, especially Dara.
I felt for my phone and was sorry that it was still there. I hustled back to break up Bassey’s fun.
Ten o’clock rolled around, and those of us who had been to one of Bassey’s New Year’s Eve parties knew it was time to dance. A few years ago, there had been a nasty case of bruised feet and egos caused, for the most part, by uncoordinated dance moves.
Since then, Bassey has strongly suggested that guests remove their shoes to dance. Four of the women (Dara included) knew this in advance.
I was having a great time and had forgotten about work for at least a half hour. Just after 10:30, my phone rang. When I called the office, I got the bad news. They needed me at the power centre, probably until morning. Dara didn’t take the news well, either.
Bassey must have seen our long faces because he drifted by. I expressed our regrets, and we headed for our coats. Bassey was thinking fast and came up with an idea. He convinced me that Dara was having such a good time that it would be a shame for her to miss out on the fun just because I had to leave. He was right, but I didn’t realize the type of fun he had in store for my wife.
I could see that Dara was as happy that evening as I had seen her in some time. I gave her a questioning look. She was too shy to declare her feelings in front of Bassey, so I suggested that she stay. Her face lit up almost imperceptibly. Bassey promised to drive her home as soon as the party broke up.
I was worried about leaving Dara with Bassey, but I knew something he didn’t. Dara had a highly developed FM reception. FM reception? The volume on her “Faithfulness Meter” was always turned up. I was confident in Dara’s fidelity.
At that same moment, Bassey was confident as well. He had found the object of his desire for this night, and his only true competition was withdrawing. In his somewhat drunken state, he intended to separate Dara from the rest of his guests, break down her inhibitions, and with some luck, saddle up her wonderful body for a pleasure ride later in the evening.
Dara may have had strong FM reception, but Bassey knew that she, like all women, also had an AM channel… an “Animal Meter” hard-wired into her being. It was not Bassey’s intention to convince Dara to succumb to him. Instead, he intended to dramatically turn up her AM volume until her own body drowned out her FM channel.
At that point, she would be his. With my departure, he hoped to bury his rising manhood between her smooth and luscious thighs within hours. He had one more ace in the hole. He intended to use Dara’s lack of confidence to his advantage.
* * * * *
My departure didn’t disrupt the party for long. After I left, Bassey played one of his favourite oldies: “Konko Below”. This fast-paced tune soon had his guests enthusiastically shaking and gyrating, just as they had been before I left. Even shy Dara was caught up in the moment. Her dress was so tight that it could conceal little of her beauty or her movements.
She shook her big breasts, and Bassey’s male partiers watched in admiration. She swayed her luscious hips, and her smooth thighs were briefly exposed to view. But most enticingly, every now and then, by instinct more than anything else, she thrust the magnificent V between her legs directly at Bassey. The fabric of her dress strained to maintain its integrity and conceal her charms.
The men in the room, however, were all having evil thoughts. Every male eye was on my wife, some furtively, some more bold. Although she didn’t realize it, she was a one-person construction crew. Erections were creating tents in all of the slacks in the room.
Bassey, in particular, had enjoyed the view of her very sensuous dance. She had now very graphically confirmed his desire. He was determined to intimately experience the thrusts she was innocently performing for his guests, … with his cock buried between her tender thighs.
For now, however, he needed to cool down his raging erection, which was large enough to draw everyone’s attention. He headed to the kitchen to freshen some drinks.
While Bassey was attending to his guests, Gbenga ducked in to pull Dara onto the dance floor. Gbenga, by now, was very drunk and was still displaying a good-sized bulge in his trousers. When sober, Gbenga was direct. When drunk, he was much too forceful. He closed too fast, which immediately put Dara on the defensive.
He immediately went for the ass that had figured so prominently in his recent thoughts. Dara tried to twist away. Gbenga reacted by holding her fast and grabbing one of the breasts that he had watched shake so enticingly. This time Dara did extricate herself from his grasp.
She practically ran to Bassey. Her angry face spoke volumes. No words were spoken, but Gbenga stayed away for the rest of the night. Dara hung on Bassey, which was just fine with him.
Bassey had started to mix slow songs with upbeat tunes. Couples mostly stayed together, which suited Bassey’s purpose well. He was being very careful not to push Dara very hard, which meant that he needed some extra time with her. His present goal was to keep her drinking and brush into her “accidentally” every now and then.
My best friend also made a point of guiding Dara near the most demonstrative couples. Gbenga had found his correct target and was bumping and grinding at Temi on fast tunes, kneading her ass and breasts on slow songs.
Temi was relieved to see that Gbenga had returned and appeared intent on maintaining his attention. She was returning his advances, pressing her hips against his crotch. Bassey was making sure that Dara was taking this all in.
Bassey was a bigger man than me, which Dara couldn’t help but notice. He had some cuts in his upper arms, and his chest was broad. Dara could see but not quite feel the curly hairs that poked through the neck of his shirt. She liked his chest hair and glanced at it furtively.
Bassey noticed her gazing at him and acted on this shy woman’s inquisitiveness. He pressed his body full length into her, compressing her breasts into his chest.
During one slow song, Bassey put Dara’s arms around his neck and caressed the small of her back. He slipped his hands lower and lower. Two other women were getting butt massages from their dance partners. Bassey slid his hands to Dara’s silk-wrapped waist and down onto the curve of her bottom. Dara stiffened.
With a great deal of courage, she whispered into his ear, “Bassey, please don’t”. He withdrew.
On the next slow song, he tried again, and again she stiffened. He wondered if he had not coaxed enough drinks into her. Instead of withdrawing this time, however, he simply cupped her silky bottom in his hands but did not fondle her cheeks. It wasn’t enough of a transgression for her to overcome her shyness and complain.
They danced. He subtly started to caress her buttocks, using movements that might feel accidental to her. His movements had the desired effect. Her butt cheeks were becoming more sensitive to his touch, and wanted to be held.
He became bolder and was soon able to knead her bottom as he wished. He was developing an erection, and she could distinctly feel him growing against her belly. At the end of the song, he cupped her round posterior and pressed her firmly to his crotch. For the first time that evening, there was a significant spike in her AM volume.
Dara’s face was sweaty. Was it from embarrassment or from arousal? Her AM and FM dials were competing to be heard. Dara’s body began its preparations for what was to come. Her vagina started to become moist.
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