Oliver and Grace Warbucks waltzed effortlessly over the dance floor. Grace was always impressed by how light her husband was on his feet. He was such a wonderful dance partner, so strong, but gentle. She loved the feeling of him leading her firmly with his hand on her lower back. Every eye in the room was on the newlyweds who had only married four months previously. There had been speculation of a pregnancy, but Grace's ever trim stomach betrayed no hint of a baby.
"These Galas are much more enjoyable with you at my side," Oliver smiled at his wife. In his bachelor days, he would have spent the evening drinking at the bar by himself or arguing politics with business associates. "You are stunning. I am the envy of every man in New York City."
Grace blushed. She was oblivious to the effects of her beauty. She looked like a queen in her long flowing navy dress with a high neckline, open back, and a dangerously high slit up the side. She wore her hair half up with long loose curls cascading and a diamond tiara on loan from Harry Winston.
It was her first public event as Mrs. Warbucks, and she was anxious to make a good impression, especially on the other ladies. Oliver had gone around proudly introducing her to the socialites. She had known many of them as his private secretary, and some of them treated her as beneath them because of it. This elite circle all knew one another since childhood. They were debutants together, attended the same Ivy League schools, and were each other's bridesmaids. They did not welcome newcomers with open arms. They saw her as common, but also competition for attention. Not only was she beautiful and charming, but she could hold her own in an intellectual conversation. The men were different, for the most part. To them, she was just another gorgeous woman to behold.
Grace had grown tired of the chit chat with these people and longed to be alone with her husband. As the song ended, Grace whispered into Oliver's ear, "Oliver Warbucks, you are positively irresistible in a tuxedo. I want you," pressing her body closer to his.
"Here?" Oliver asked with surprise.
"Here," she looked at him with lust glowing behind her blue eyes. She had grown bolder in the past few months, unleashing years of pent up frustration. In public she was the picture of a proper lady, but behind closed doors she had become his personal vixen, fulfilling all of his fantasies.
He grinned conspiratorially and led her off the dance floor.
While the party raged on in the ballroom, Oliver and Grace slipped into the solitude of the hallway. He pulled her into the empty coat closet, checking to make sure no one had seen them enter, and shutting the door.
"Alone at last," Oliver pushed her up against the wall, pinning her hands above her head and kissing her passionately. They worked each other up into a frenzy, as their breathing became labored. His hands slipped under her dress, caressing her supple breasts, lightly pinching her sensitive nipples as she gasped with desire. After just a few minutes, Grace felt her burning need down below and begged him in her sultry voice, "Please, Oliver, take me now!"
He did not need any further encouragement. He pulled off her black lace panties from under her dress and entered her quickly. She moaned in pleasure and wrapped her long legs around him, giving him full control. He braced her against the wall for leverage, starting out with slow, deep thrusts. The thrill of being buried in the velvety warmth of his wife, knowing that someone could walk in and catch them at any moment, drove him wild. His pace quickened as he felt her nearing her climax. Her eyes were closed tightly, focusing on the pure bliss that he brought her. They tried to stifle their screams as they reached their peak together. The intensity of her orgasm brought tears to Grace's eyes. Oliver gently wiped them away, took her face in his large hands, and kissed her again.
"You are amazing," she rasped.
"Shhhh!" Oliver held his finger to her lips, as Grace giggled, giddy from the knowledge of their naughty little romp. If only those snobby society ladies knew about their affair in the coat closet. Surely that would give them something to talk about.
Punjab brought the Duesenberg around and Oliver helped Grace into the car. He slipped in beside her and checked his pocket for his wallet. He found Grace's black panties instead. He brought them to his nose, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. They smelled of her musky arousal, an odor that Oliver found so alluring. Oliver smiled and placed his souvenir back into his pocket for safe keeping. Yes, social events would be much more interesting with his lovely wife to accompany him. He held her hand, and she placed her head on his shoulder. They watched the snow fall as they sped home.