Dr. Dalton Lewis, maneuvered his car into a parking space near Heidi Tate's home. He'd come to the wedding reception alone. His wife had also been invited, but she begged off, saying there was something more important she had to do. Dalton shook his head as he walked toward Heidi's house. Lately, it seemed, Alicia always had something more important to do than be with him.
"Go without me if it's so important to you," his wife said when he told her their presence at the wedding was important because he and Heidi were colleagues. Part of Dalton's practice included doing physicals for the school's athletic teams, and he and Heidi Tate were good friends. Then, when he said that was exactly what he'd do, Alicia had gotten angry. Dalton knew he and his wife had problems and that those problems were probably not solvable.
Dalton was a good doctor, and his patients liked him. He couldn't understand why he had done such a bad job with his marriage. He knew that the demands of a doctor's life often put strains on a marriage, but he believed he'd tried to be a good husband. Despite that, his best efforts didn't seem to have been enough. He knew he was staying in the marriage more because he hated to admit failure in any part of his life than out of any sense of love for his wife.
His thoughts turned to the event he was about to attend. As he walked toward Heidi's house, he saw a few people who looked familiar. Some of them looked at him, puzzled, not sure who he was. That didn't surprise him. He didn't spend a lot of time at the high school, so few of the faculty and staff knew him that well.
He was very well-dressed, wearing a custom-tailored gray three-piece suit. He knew women found him attractive, and quite a few of his wife's friends flirted with him from time to time, but he'd remained faithful, wanting desperately to make his marriage work.
He walked around the house, into the back yard, where tents, tables, and a platform for a band had been set up. Spying an empty chair at a nearby table, he walked over.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked an attractive blonde sitting across the table from him.
"No, please, have a seat," the woman said. She smiled at him.
"I'm Dalton Lewis," he said. "I'm a friend of the bride's. Heidi and I work together occasionally. I was busy, so I missed the wedding, but I thought I'd better put in an appearance at the reception."
"I'm Sharon," she said, "Sharon Hennesey. My husband is a friend of the groom's parents." She made a face. "He's gone to refill his pitcher of beer."
A big, bulky man came lurching back across the floor, holding a pitcher of beer in his hand. The man might have been good-looking once, but his face was beginning to show the ravages of excessive alcohol consumption, signs Dalton recognized immediately. As he watched the man move toward the table, Dalton was surprised that, in spite of the big man's unsteady gait, hardly any beer got spilled.
"That's my husband, Byron Hennessy," the blonde admitted, looking embarrassed.
Her husband carefully set the pitcher on the table, then collapsed into his chair with a sigh. He poured himself a glass of amber liquid from the pitcher, drank most of it in one swallow, then belched loudly.
"Byron!" Sharon exclaimed. She flushed and looked exasperated.
"Hey, cool it, woman!" her husband retorted. "I only came to thish damn thing 'cause you kept buggin me to. Goddamit, if I gotta be here, the least you can do is let me have a good time."
The blonde flushed and rolled her eyes. Dalton smiled sympathetically and nodded to her, as if to signal that he understood her discomfort.
"Byron, this is Dalton Lewis," Sharon said, "he's a friend of Heidi's."
"Nice to meet you, Dalton," Byron muttered as he refilled his glass. Once more he gulped the contents of the glass, as if he were drinking water, not beer. Dalton watched the man's massive head bob on his shoulders, and noticed that his eyes were glazed, red, and teary. Much more beer and he'd be unconscious, or very close to it.
A band walked up on the platform at one end of the yard, then began playing. Dalton saw the wistful look in the blonde's eyes as she watched other couples get up and dance and had an idea.
"Byron," Dalton said, "would you mind if I dance with your wife?"
"Nah!" Byron replied. He made a dismissing gesture with his hand. "Go ahead, dance with her. It'll keep her from buggin' me. 'Long as I've got enough beer, I'm happy." He belched again.
Dalton stood up and extended a hand to Sharon. "Would you do me the honor of this dance?" he asked.
Sharon nodded and stood up. Dalton observed that her figure was trim and lithe. She was wearing a loose high-waisted white short-sleeved dress that had pictures of teacups on the bodice. It ended just above her knees, letting quite a bit of her lovely slim legs show. She placed her hand lightly on his arm and they walked to the dance floor. Then she was in his arms and they were moving around the floor.
"Thank you for asking," she said. "It's been a long time since I've had a chance to dance."
"You dance very well," Dalton told her. He found himself acutely aware of the body he held in his arms. Her warmth and the sweet perfume she wore tantalized him. The occasional pressure of her body against his as they glided around the portable dance floor stirred tension in his groin. He realized he'd gotten an erection, which kept getting harder and harder as her body brushed his.
"I'm reacting just like a goddamn teen-ager!" Dalton thought, a bit surprised by what was happening to him. He made no effort to conceal his growing tumescence. As his penis grew and swelled, he continued holding Sharon close, pressing her body against his.
Sharon felt something brush her leg, realized what it was, and a shudder of delight went through her. It had been quite a while since she'd been sexually satisfied. Byron was seldom interested in making love since his drinking started to increase. She pressed closer to Dalton, excitement growing inside her. "You dance very well, too," she whispered, "I can't remember when I've enjoyed dancing this much."
"Thank you," Dalton replied.
Sharon trembling softly, leaned her head on his chest. This really was wonderful!
They danced almost every dance, especially the slow ones, and all too soon the reception was beginning to wind down. When the band leader announced that the next dance would be the last one, the bride and groom and most of the other guests had already left.
As he and Sharon glided around the dance floor during the last dance, Dalton glanced in Byron's direction. The big man was still tossing down beers. He guided Sharon to the other side of the dance floor. When he was sure the crowd of dancing couples blocked them from view of their table, he said, "Hey," softly.
