Suds filled the dance floor like a giant blob from another world. The crowd whooped and cheered in delight. The lights reflected on the white foam made it appear to change color. The dancers it swallowed never slowed.
Rebecca saw the foam heading her way. She smiled. She raised her arms like the others and cheered as the blob approached. Suddenly the floor became more crowded as partiers jostled to be covered. From behind she felt strong, firm hands on her hips. They kept with her body, moving to the music. She swiveled at her waist to see who was touching her. Before she could catch a glimpse or see the owner of the hands she heard a loud cheer and felt a warm, wet sensation covering her.
Her stranger shifted his body behind her, moving much closer. His pelvis pressed her backside in perfect time to the pulsating music. She could feel he had no beer gut and what was against her was firm.
Beca went with it, relishing his movements. Movements that increasingly became slick and wet in the fog of foam. It did not take long before she felt his erection. His pants were wet and clung to him like her dress did to her. Soon the movements became more erotic. He was rock hard and aiming straight up.
Again, she tried to turn to face her stranger. The same firm hand that moved with her kept her from turning. She felt his right hand moving up her body, taking a big fold of her dress with it. Despite being soaked she knew her hemline was now above her waist. Now mad, Rebecca stopped dancing and violently turned throwing an elbow. Suddenly, Rebecca felt tangled. Her elbow met the twisted folds of her comforters instead of the stranger's hard abs. She could hear the alarm as she emerged from a deep sleep.
"Hey Beca, remember today is that new client meeting where you were going to pick up breakfast?"
Her husband James was awake before her. Good thing because panic shot through her.
"What time is it?" She asked. Her voice high pitched with concern.
"5:30." James said. "I'll start your shower." He headed off towards the bathroom.
Beca HAD to get up. She rolled out of bed.
Forty-five minutes later, now showered, dressed and on her way to work Beca took a drag from her morning cigarette. She reached up and flicked the ashes out of the partially down window. One smoke and one coffee for breakfast was her routine.
The "responsible corporate" job was tough. Not terribly long ago she and her artist husband James were carefree. His craft had a steady growth rate which allowed Beca to maintain her club kid lifestyle, but then they bought a country house with a studio. It was an older country house that needed upgrades and repairs. This cost money which meant one of them needed a real job.
Now Beca was the one getting up early and working late. James was getting up with her in the morning to show some professional solidarity. Buying their rural dream home had seemed so romantic. Now, as she drove to the city in the early morning mist, the bloom was off the rose. The long commute combined with a lack of play time left Beca questioning her decision to follow her artist husband's dream of the old house with a studio. At least the forecast was supposed to be dry in the afternoon. Maybe she could drive home with her convertible's top down.
********************************
Once at work Beca was in the thick of things.
"Did you see him in the waiting room?" Colleen asked in an excited tone that exaggerated her Boston area accent.
"No? Who is 'him'?" Beca inquired as she continued to set up the conference room.
"That new client, Rick Rivera, from Florida. He is the hottie in the tan suit." Colleen gushed. "I hear we are helping his company with a big deal. He started an internet company, sold it, and then used the proceeds to start other ventures. He tends to get what he wants and make millions doing it. Maybe we will get to see him outside of work?"
Beca rolled her eyes at Colleen's amorous thoughts. "Yeah, count on it. Us in bathing suits are what all rich guys want. I have not seen the inside of a tanning salon or a beach in a year."
"Don't be sarcastic." Colleen laughed. "You think I do Pilates for my boyfriend?"
The conference room door opened. "Five minutes ladies."
"Thank you, Mickey." Colleen said to the pretty leggy blonde in the blue Ann Taylor suit. "Is Rick really nice?" she added in a whisper.
Mickey's eyes bugged out with an "Oh my God!" silent mouthing then shut the door.
Colleen and Beca stood back, the conference table was set with all the handouts and the refreshments were in place. Their eye for detail is what made them valuable to their boss.
"Looks great." Beca declared.
"How do I look?" Colleen asked straightening her suit skirt and reaching for the sport coat she left on a chair while they were setting up.
Beca looked her over. Colleen was pretty, pretty athletic, pretty smart, and pretty tall, especially in heels. She wore her auburn hair short and layered. This worked since she not only did Pilates, but ran and avoided fried food like Beca avoided running.
"Hot, as usual" Beca answered.
"Let me check you." Colleen walked around Beca with the eye of an inspector.
Beca turned a bit as Colleen eyed her up and down.
"Nice suit." She commented at Beca's new dark navy pant suit and white blouse. Unlike Colleen, Beca had a bust line and a woman's healthy curves. She was somewhat conscientious about her body now that she was working like an adult.
"I think I looked better when I danced all night at clubs." She confessed to Colleen. "This getting up early and working long days is adding more than just money to my bank account."
"That is because you need to eat and work out, not just forgo meals with smokes and slim fast." Colleen added with the tone of an eyeing teacher.
Beca ruffled. "No time. I spend my free time working on remodeling projects at our house."
