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It's time for Santa to pick a new Mrs. Claus out of two girls.

Brenda is not looking around as much now. I can't catch her eye. Donna leans over to me and says, "He's getting to her now." I'm getting a hard on and pissed about it because 'hard on' ends a sentence in a preposition.

As Jim's hand strokes the absolute tip of Brenda's nipples, his left hand starts strolling downward, tracing circles on her belly, moving towards her vee. He passes the juncture up and starts tickling and gently pinching Brenda's upper thighs. Brenda is starting to gyrate just a bit, subtly, almost imperceptibly. I notice it. I look around.

Most of the guys have a boner. All are staring intently at the unfolding drama. The women are equally intent, but a couple of them have smirks on their faces. Why is it a woman seems to enjoy the humiliating predicament of another woman?

Without warning, Jim moves his hand from Brenda's thigh to the soft material covering her pussy. He squeezes, directly over her clitoris. He squeezes again. He gently runs his hand up and down my wife's slit, outside her dress. Brenda makes a noise.

"Minute four," Carrie announces.

Minute 5

Jim's hand is now under my wife's dress. Twelve of us are watching its progress. We don't know if it is outside the panties or inside. It is certainly a very busy hand, and Brenda seems to be enjoying it. Jim's right hand continues to play with Brenda's right breast. He has never touched her other tit. Now, it's one hand on the pussy, under the dress, and one hand on the naked tit and he kisses her again and for the first time it seems passionate. He whispers something else and she looks at him and it's clear she's looking at him and oblivious to the rest of us.

He starts teasing her clit again, outside her dress. Then he slips his hand under her dress and does something. Then he takes it out again and rubs her pussy through her cocktail dress. Then inside. Then out.

"Halfway there, and ohhhhhh....boy," Carrie advises us.

Minute 6

My wife is getting finger-fucked. It's obvious to us all, even though Jim's hand is under her dress. He is slowly moving his arm forward, then slowly backward. The movement of his fingers under Brenda's dress is like a movement under sand: something's going on, but no one knows for certain what it is.

I look around, and half of the women are slyly rubbing one or more of their erogenous zones. Donna is watching the scene like a victim gaining catharsis through watching another victim. She put her hand on my thigh, clearly enjoying the fact that I was aroused. "She's going to give in, you know. Guarantee you, your wife will beg to be fucked. Jim is a fucking master. He's a pig and an asshole and I hate him twice a week, but God does he know how to drive a woman crazy. Your dear wife Brenda will beg to be fucked, and when he fucks her she will beg him for more."

"Brenda will never beg him," I firmly advised Donna. "I've been married to her for five years and she's never once said 'Fuck Me'. Any woman that's getting touched all over is going to get hot and excited. Brenda won't ever ever ever give in to Jim." I gave Donna my version of the nasty glare. She grabbed my chin and turned my face back to the action.

Jim was pulling off Brenda's dress.

Carrie announced, "Six minutes gone."

Minute 7

Brenda has on only panties. Jim is kissing her. His left hand is fingering her pussy, under the hem of her panties, rubbing over the clitoris, lightly pulling the pubic hairs. His right hand is getting rougher over her right nipple, pulling it outward, flicking it, twisting it. Brenda is breathing hard.

Jim whispers something, and I hear Brenda's reply of "No way." He gets in front of her face and he sneers at her. We all hear him say, "Just wait...." He speeds up the movement of his hands over her pussy.

Then Jim pulls off Brenda's panties.

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