[Make sure you read the guidelines on the story summary. -- Torg]

I felt very out of place at the nightclub. Not Kelly though- god, she looked good- the tight white dress showing off her incredible body to mouthwatering perfection! Every guy in the place was checking her out; as usual they thought I was her father...

"We can go, if you want," she shouted in my ear.

"No, you go and have a dance. I'm fine, honestly!", I lied.

"I'll only dance if you come with me," she implored.

I laughed and shook my head. No way, what was this music called?
Two-step Garage? Give me some good old Clapton.

Just then these two black guys came over, both about six foot and both about 26 at the most.

"You wanna dance, dance with me. I can show you some moves," the taller one of them said to Kelly.

Kelly looked at me, biting her bottom lip. I think I surprised her when I nodded my approval.

"Your daughter ain't gonna be safe with my boy," the other leered.

The reason we'd come out tonight was because I'd convinced Kelly that the only way to revive our ailing love life was to get some outside help. Someone to do the job I desperately wanted to do, but just could not manage. Kelly was very sweet, she said she wasn't sure she wanted to, but she didn't want to lose me. All she wanted, even if she didn't know it, was some big hard cock.

I watched Kelly and the tall black guy dance very close on the dance floor. His name I discovered was Taylor; his friend, Darrell. They lived in the next town to ours. I offered them a lift at the end of the evening. Darrell looked a bit perplexed. Should I reveal my sordid plan?