Maddie was in good form. She was always a willful and defiant wife and the five beers that she had so recently consumed had fuelled her already effervescent personality to the point where she could hardly keep still or stop chattering.
It was her twenty sixth birthday. We had planned a full celebration later on in the week but, this night, rather than prepare a meal at home; we had decided to eat at one of our favourite diners just on the outskirts of town. The place had been quiet when we arrived; just a few customers stopping off for a bite on their way to wherever they were going. But now, as I checked my watch for the fifth time and glanced around, I could see that the restaurant was all but deserted.
Sam, the cook and owner of the diner, mooched around behind the counter obviously keen to lock up for the night. He was a giant of a man; tall and black as night but with a smile and easy personality that I had seen few women able to resist
"Guess we better make a move, hon." I said sneaking a peek at my watch yet again. "It's nearly eleven thirty."
Maddie had broken off from her inane chatter only long enough for me to speak briefly and was about to prepare her next oration - probably about one or other of the girls that she worked with and how she was being so badly treated by a boyfriend or husband – when my comment about the time made her look up at the clock.
"Oh, Chris. I'm not tired yet. Can't we stay a bit longer? Maybe another drink or some dessert?
I sighed silently. When Maddie gets in one of these moods there's usually little that anyone can do to change her mind. I was fairly sure that another beer was a bad idea, but I supposed that some cake or pie wouldn't hurt.
"What would you like then?" I asked in a tired, plaintive voice.
Maddie's eyes twinkled as she leaned over the Formica topped table so that her face was closer to mine. I could smell the fragrant moisturiser that she used and the scent of her shampoo filtered through as her long blonde hair fell over her face.
"Something rich, dark and really naughty!"
I studied the menu for her looking for something that would fit her desired choice.
"Like Sam!" she whispered with a giggle, nodding her head towards the large black man.
For a second my brain seemed to stop working. I continued to stare at the menu but the list of hamburgers, steaks and fries could have been printed in Greek for all the sense they made to me.
I looked up at my wife's grinning face. The twinkle in her eyes was still there and her full lips curled into an immoral looking smile.
"I think someone's had a beer too many!"
I laughed. But the sound was hollow and empty. Maddie remained silent but continued to smile at me furtively. I had seen that look before; it was a look of excitement. A look of lust!
"What the hell are you saying?" I screamed the whisper across the table.
"Just watch!"
A little unsteadily, my young wife pulled her chair back and got to her feet. Sam looked up; the prospect of his last two customers leaving seemed to lift his boredom for a moment but as soon as he realised that this was not the case, he resumed his interest in the sports magazine that was spread out on the counter before him.
It seemed to take a long time but, eventually, Maddie managed to manoeuvre herself all the way to the other side of the diner where an old-fashioned juke box stood silent and inviting against the wall. I could hear the chink of small coins being inserted into the slot and, immediately following this, the sounds of an early Beatles track filtered through the antique speakers.
As the music continued, my wife began to dance. She was still quite drunk; her movements not quite co-ordinated enough to make the routine perfect, but she was still putting on a good show – a show that I soon realised was for Sam's benefit rather than mine.
The Beatles track came to an end and was immediately replaced by Gerry Rafferty's Baker Street. I knew this to be one of Maddie's favourite songs and as her body gyrated, swaying around so that her short skirt flared around her thighs; I glanced quickly over at Sam.
The sudden activity in the quiet diner had roused his interest and he was now watching my wife with as much, if not more, attention than I was. His round, dark face opened into an appreciative smile and his eyes seemed incapable of, or at least unwilling to, leave Maddie's lithe body.
"Sorry about this, Sam," I called over, "She's just had a little too much to drink!"
For the briefest of moments Sam tore his eyes away from my wife and glanced over at me. The instant that our eyes met was enough to tell me that, even if I was sorry, he most certainly was not!
"Don't you think we'd better get going?" I'm not sure if my voice carried over the level of the music but, if Maddie did hear me, she chose not to acknowledge me. Instead, Sam answered for her.
"Nah, let the lady dance, man! We don't often get this sort of entertainment in here!"
Encouraged by these words of wisdom, Maddie continued to dance. The music was loud and she seemed lost in a world of her own as she twirled and spun around the room. As her body twisted this way and that, her skirt flared further and exposed more of her legs. The air was warm and a little humid and her blouse had become damp with sweat and clung to her like a second skin. It was quite obvious to both Sam and I that she had not bothered to wear a bra!
Maddie's dance had now left its earlier more traditional format and, as she quietly popped the first few buttons of the blouse, I realised that she was now performing more of a strip-tease. To be honest, the whole routine was beginning to turn me on and I wondered how far she would go.
Sam cheered wildly as, with the music finally coming to an end, Maddie popped the last few buttons of her blouse and opened the garment with a flourish exposing her bare breasts. She stood in the middle of the room. All three of us looked at each other. I suppose we all wondered what was going to happen next.
