My husband, Barry, and I both love dancing and traveling, so we often try to combine our favorite activities by visiting other cities where we stay at a nice hotel with a dance club nearby.
We arrived in Baltimore earlier that day. We don't know anybody there, so it might seem to be an odd choice, but some of our greatest adventures have been to places that aren't the top tourist destinations.
After checking in at the hotel and getting some dinner, we put on our dance clothes, black slacks and a dark red button up for him, and a black, knee-length dress for me, and went to the attached club, which was supposed to have a pretty good DJ tonight; at least, that's what I read on the website when booking the trip.
It was still a bit early for the crowds, though the music had definitely started. We lucked out and found a small table near the dance floor. Barry went to get drinks while I secured the table.
While I was waiting, a guy came up and asked me to dance. I declined, pointing to my wedding ring, and gave the guy an apologetic shoulder shrug. I didn't feel too bad. He was cute, and I'm sure he'll find someone by the end of the night if he is seriously looking.
Just as I watched him head back to his buddies, who all pretended not to notice his rejection, Barry came back with drinks. "What did that guy want?" He asked as he sat down, wagging his eyebrows since he knew exactly what the guy wanted.
"Just asked for a dance. He was a gentleman."
"You should have gone. I would have held your drink."
I laughed, but Barry didn't; just looked me in the eyes and waggled his eyebrows again. My laughter stopped as the realization that he wasn't kidding shocked me.
He let out a loud laugh. "Got you!"
I swatted his shoulder, "Whatever. Maybe next time I'll accept if you're going to be a jerk."
"Oh, I doubt if you would have the courage to dance with a stranger."
That sounded like a challenge. Damn it! He knows how I am about a challenge. When I was little, my older brother's tormented me. I always wanted to hang out with them, and they made me do these stupid challenges to see if I was "cool enough." The jerks.
It was just silly stuff, like I had to hop on one foot if I wanted to go anywhere, but it led to something almost like an obsession with accepting challenges.
Barry was dead wrong if he thought I wouldn't dance with another guy. It's not like I hadn't danced with other guys before, though it's different when you are just a group of friends going out than when being asked by a stranger.
"Oh yeah, I'll dance with the next guy that asks," I announced bravely, knowing that it wouldn't come to anything. Barry and I were always together most of the night anyway, and single guys seemed to have a way to identify the unavailable women and avoid them, though some jerks don't get the hint.
"Show me!" He got up, grabbed his drink, and left. I watched with my mouth slightly open while he went and sat at the bar, grinning at me like he had just pulled a fast one.
I tried covering myself by taking a sip of my drink. Well, sip might have been a bit of an understatement. In just a couple minutes, I drank half my Long-Island. After that, I nursed my drink, wondering how long Barry was going to carry this on for. I'm sure most of the guys in the place already saw us together and wouldn't be asking me to dance.
As I was getting to the bottom of my drink and was starting to feel the warm, pleasant side-effects of alcohol, along with the beat of the thumping dance music, I started getting irritated. I just wanted to have some fun and dance with my husband. This was beginning to feel like a lame way to spend our evening.
"Would you like to dance?" A tan guy wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap asked.
I almost instinctively brushed him off before I remembered the little challenge that Barry had made. I stood up, looked towards my husband, who was watching intently, and let this stranger lead me to the dance floor.
We danced for a while, but nothing crazy. He kept it polite and barely touched me at all, other than an occasional hand on my back. After a while, I noticed Barry sitting back at the table, watching me. I thanked the guy I was dancing with and went back to sit down with Barry.
"So, did you have fun?" Barry asked as soon as I sat down.
It was a little awkward with a stranger, but I loved to dance; however, I was pretty sure that wasn't what Barry was asking me. Quite frankly, I hadn't thought much about it. I was just enjoying the music and dancing.
"I would rather have been dancing with you," I replied, which was true. Barry was a great dancer, he could really turn me on with his moves, and I knew I would be getting lucky with him later, which helped sweeten the deal.
The two of us danced for a couple more hours before going back to the hotel room. That night, Barry was particularly passionate. I was a few orgasms in before I realized what he was probably thinking about. This caused me to start imagining being with a stranger, not my first time, but it seemed more real tonight than usual, especially as I thought about my dance partner from earlier. Neither of us admitted our fantasies, but considering some of the things that were said and done to each other that night, I was sure we were both having them.
The next night, after a few drinks during dinner, Barry proposed 'The Game.' The rules were simple. I danced with a guy, and we would see how far he would get before either I chickened out, or Barry did.
"No!" I responded without even considering it. What was he thinking? Of course, I did enjoy fantasizing about being with a stranger. I shook my head; what am I thinking? No, this is real life, not some sex video. I couldn't do something like that. Could I?
"Sorry." He looked embarrassed, and the conversation faltered as I tried to sort out my feelings, and he was probably trying to figure out how to laugh it off.
I felt a bit bad, and it was just a bit of fun; we probably wouldn't actually go through with it. It really isn't all that different than talking about our fantasies, which we've done before. "I don't know," I allowed, allowing him the opportunity to talk me into it.
And he did. That night, we went in together, but quickly found places across the dance floor from each other. I felt awkward, sitting there alone in a new city. I tapped my foot to the music and sipped my drink, hoping Barry would call it off and we could just get back to enjoying the evening together.
