It was Saturday night and after a couple cocktails with dinner, Joe and I decided to hit a dance club for a few drinks after dinner. This is not uncommon for us on the weekends. We both have demanding jobs and always try to make the best of the weekends. This was a new club for us. More upscale then the norm and we both figured we’d find a spot at the bar and enjoy a night of libations and people watching, for an hour at most.
We cozied up to the bar in the bustling nightclub and Joe set forth to get us a drink. The two attractive female bartenders were slammed. Each time one would approach Joe, he’d stretch out his arm and try to get her attention while holding a $20 bill. Each time, they breezed past. After a about 5 minutes, I was wondering if drinks were in our future. As Joe continued to reach over the bar, clutching his $20, a man approached the bar. He squeezed between the two of us and immediately captured the bartenders attention. She leaned over and got took his order almost instantly. My first instinct was anger. I looked to Joe and he saw the look of disgust on his face. Then I looked at the stranger. Oh my god! How could I be angry? Standing between Joe and I was a handsome black man. He was tall, well built, and appeared to be a perfect gentleman. As Joe continued to flail his arm at the bartender, the stranger leaned down and asked me if I was waiting to get a drink. When I replied in the affirmative, he once again got the bartenders attention and ordered me the Chardonnay that I had been craving. He even had the drink put on his tab!
I was so struck by his confidence and swagger that I momentarily forgot that Joe was still trying to get his first round! I thanked the stranger and he politely said
“You’re welcome. I know how hard it can be for a single woman to get a drink around here”.
That’s when I remembered Joe. I giggled and motioned to Joe
“I’m actually here with my husband”.
The stranger glanced at Joe and then quickly turned his attention back to me. “You know, since I got you your drink, the least you could do is give me a dance”
“My god” I thought! I was taken aback by his confidence and momentarily hesitated in my response. Before I responded he said
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite. It’s just a dance. We’re all adults here, right?”
“Holy Fuck”, I thought to myself. It really wasn’t a question, but a statement. He leaned in and bit more and said
“My named is Reggie, just one dance?”
I don’t know, blame it on the warm up cocktails at home or chalk it up to Reggie’s staggering confidence and his unwavering eye contact, but I nodded my head yes, knowing full well that Joe would have a cow. Reggie smiled and led me out to the dance floor by the hand, as Joe stood at the bar, jaw dropping I’m sure.
It was to loud to have a conversation, but we could sure dance. And dance I did. The music was thumping, and I sipped what was my 3rd wine for the night, I found some pretty good rhythm for a 40 year old white girl! I got into the music, and that one song became two, then three – then I lost track. Reggie was all smiles, as was I. I glanced at the bar and saw that Joe had found himself a seat and a drink. Although he didn’t look real happy, his eyes were riveted to the dance floor and I found myself enjoying this situation. By this time any feeling of guilt I may have had quickly disappeared. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was Reggie’s cool confidence and swagger. Either way, I allowed myself to be sucked into the moment. Reggie’s reassuring words “We’re all adults here, right?” rang through my head. Of course we’re adults and we were acting like it.
After a few more songs, Reggie excused himself to the men’s room and I took the opportunity to visit Joe at the bar. The reception I got was cold. Joe was now into his 4th drink and was fuming at my “slutty behavior”. I guess Joe’s response shouldn’t have been unexpected, but I did find it quite immature and out of line. Although I was a little angry, the hotness of the situation was turning me on, and yes, maybe the alcohol was getting the better of me.
“Joe, settle down. He’s a nice guy and it’s just dancing. You don’t like to dance anyway! We’re all adults here, right?” Joe was slow to respond.
“RIGHT?”
Joe must have detected something in my voice as he conceded to easily.
“Yes, Carol, we’re all adults”
“Good, then don’t ruin a perfectly good evening baby, okay?”
He nodded and the look of submission on his face was unmistakeable.
Right about then the bartender sauntered by, and I grabbed her attention. I ordered three shots of Fireball whiskey and told her to put it on Joe’s tab. It occurred to me that when we arrived at the bar, Joe was unable to properly order us cocktails. Reggie had to get them for us. And now I was doing the ordering as Joe seemed incapable of completing this simple task. First a handsome stranger had to do what Joe could not, and then his own wife had to take charge to get results. I smirked when the drinks were delivered posthaste and Joe’s expression indicated that he also caught the irony of the situation.
Joe reached for one of the shots and I quickly batted his arm down. I told him the third one was for Reggie and that since Reggie was polite enough to get my first round, we should be polite and wait for him to return and do the shot together.
“But I thought you dancing with Reggie was thanks enough”
I replied “honey, don’t be like that. It’s just a shot…. After all, we’re all adults here, right?”
Joe leaned back in his chair, and I admit I felt a slight twinge of excitement at the subtle emasculation that was occurring here.
About that time, I spied Reggie walking our way from the restroom area. I was finally able to see him from a distance and for the first time I noticed the sizeable bulge in his pants. I may have stared a bit to long, but my inhibitions were low. I blame it on the alcohol. Regrouping at the bar, I handed Reg one of the three shot glasses and he thanked me, as Joe stared on. I called for a toast to “New friends” and we all raised are glasses and took the shot. It wasn’t the most pleasant tasting shot, but I handled like a trooper with only a tiny wince. Reg was a bit more impressive, as he looked like he was simply drinking a shot of water. Then there was Joe. His shot glass was half full still as mine and Reg’s hit the bar simultaneously. I looked on as he took his second shot at the whiskey, finally getting it all down. I couldn’t help but playfully comment
“god baby, don’t be such a wimp”
Poor Joe. I immediately realized those words only added to his growing insecurity, but I quickly concluded that that wasn’t a bad thing. Reg chuckled as Joe chased his shot with a glass of water and leaned back again in his chair. That was when Reg leaned in and invited me back out to the dance floor. What took him so long! I turned to Joe and he said something to the effect of wasn’t I about ready to go home. And haven’t I done enough dancing for one night. Before I could reply, Reg was pulling me by the hand and I willingly followed him to the floor as I told Joe:
“just a couple more songs” , I yelled as I trotted away
Back out on the dance floor I was catching my second wind. Again, songs flew by and when I looked at my watch I realized we had been out there 45 minutes. Reg and I were both glistening in sweat, but neither of us was ready to leave the dance floor. I was feeling a little light headed, probably from all the alcohol, and stumbled briefly before Reg caught me in his arms. I rested my head on Reg’s powerful chest as we both continued to sway to the music.
I was acutely aware of Reg’s hands now moving up and down my back. To my hips – then my shoulders. Soon my hands were doing the same, Out lining his wide frame. At one point Reg turned me around and we began grinding to the music. I spied Joe at the bar staring on, nursing a glass of ice water. I thought about what had transpired tonight. I felt like I was being swept off my feet, as my helpless husband looked on – unable to intervene or even protest the very open flirting that was going on between his normally conservative wife and a handsome strange black man. Again, maybe it was the alcohol, but seeing Joe in this predicament was exciting me. Just as our eyes met, I bent forward just bit and backed my ass hard into Reg’s crotch. Reg’s arm carefully circled my waste and held me closer to him. I felt his breath on the back of my neck as we grinded and dipped in small semi circles.
“You’re killing me girl”
He said as his lips lingered millimeters from my neck. That’s when I felt a twitch on my ass. All I could think was “oh my god”. Reg was become aroused and from the feel of it, he was packing a monster in his pants. I realized my eyes were closed, ever so briefly, and when i reopened them I saw Joe, red face, looking very flustered and awkward looking on. The cute bartender was over his shoulder looking on. She also seemed delighted at Joe’s predicament and I swear she winked in my direction like “You go girl”. I reached back for Reg’s hand intending to lead him off the floor and back to the bar. Instead, my hand found something else. In just a couple seconds, I confirmed what my ass had felt. This man was hung! By purely non scientific means, I estimated his cock to be at 8″ at least – maybe nine. And girthy. What the fuck was happening here? My pussy moistened. I finally found Reg’s hand and led him from the dance floor.
To be continued. Let me know if you are interested in hearing the rest of this story.