Steve watched nervously as the best man ushered his wife onto the dance floor. His attention had been focused on the matron of honor and the best man ever since the wedding processional when they had walked down the aisle together. His anxiety had been accentuated by Stella's gown. While brides are notorious for making catastrophic fashion choices for their attendants, Stella's niece was a seamstress with a flair for style. The classic, floor length, strapless, blue gowns that she had designed for her wedding attendants were undeniably beautiful.
Stella's gown had been destined to be the most spectacular because she was by far the best endowed woman in the wedding party. Her gown was all the more alluring because she had been fitted soon after Steve and she had reconciled but before the miscarriage. The bride had been too busy to realize that the dress needed to be refitted until only a few days before the wedding. In her frantic haste she had taken in the waist but hadn't had time to recontour the bodice. With Stella's normally impressive breasts no longer swollen to reveal the early months of another pregnancy, the bodice of the gown rode an inch or maybe three lower than the bride had anticipated.
Stella's big breasts had been threatening to escape from her gown throughout the ceremony. Steve and all the other guests had even been treated to a lingering glimpse of the upper halves of her large, dark aureolas through her lacy blue lingerie as she walked back up the aisle, arm and arm with the best man during the recessional.
Although Stella had salvaged her modesty once she reached the narthex by adjusting the bodice of her gown, Steve was expecting or at least hoping that she would be reticent about dancing with the best man. Aside from the obvious risk of another wardrobe malfunction, there was the issue of race. There hadn't been many black people in the small town that she and Steve grew up in. Neither of them had been immune to the mildly racist attitudes that had been so pervasive during their upbringing.
They had both dated other people during the years that their prolonged courtship was interrupted by Steve's attendance at the State university. However; he had been confident that Stella hadn't dated any black men during those years. There had not been any black guys enrolled in the high school that she had been attending during the first few years of their courtship. He had been aware that she had met some drivers who were black during the year that she had been a waitress at the local truck stop, but he had never heard rumors that she was dating any of them.
As the best man took Stella in his arms, Steve was overwhelmed by a sudden insight. His willingness to abide by Stella's desire to remain a virgin until their wedding night had been motivated by his anxieties rather than gallantry. He had known at a visceral level that he could be certain that she wasn't putting out to the other men that she was dating during their prolonged courtship only as long as he allowed her hymen to remain intact. After more than a dozen years of marriage, Stella's precious hymen had been nothing more than a distant memory during their recent estrangement. The rumors about the men that his then estranged wife was dating during the year of their trial separation had been all the more alarming because that delicate membrane was no longer intact to assure him that his spouse was constrained by the morality of her youth. The conviction that his estranged spouse was not remaining celibate while they were living apart had made the rumors and innuendos that she was dating black men as well as whites all the more distressing.
Because of those rumors, Steve had been only mildly surprised that his wife had not been as scandalized as the rest of the family when her goddaughter announced that she was engaged to a black man. Stella hadn't even condemned her late sister's daughter when she tearfully confessed that an unexpected pregnancy had compelled her to expedite the wedding.
Steve watched as his wife allowed the best man to gallantly usher her on to the dance floor to join the bride and groom. Aside from being black, the best man was over a decade younger than Stella. Bitter memories of the questions that had plagued him during the months that they had been living apart were revived by the sight. There was no hint of the reticence that Steve was hoping for as Stella allowed the best man to take her in his arms. It soon become obvious that she was delighted to discover that the best man was far more skilled in formal, ball room dancing than her husband.
Knowing that tradition would keep his wife preoccupied for a long while, dancing first with the best man, then with the groom, then with the groomsmen, Steve got himself another glass of champaign. He literally sat on the sidelines to watch as Stella's reveled in the dancing. As first the best man, then the groom and then the groomsmen whisked his wife around the dance floor, he resolved to honor his promise to take some ballroom dancing classes with her. He didn't want to risk allowing her frustrations and resentments to once again escalate until she demanded a second trial separation. He was certain that there would not be a second reconciliation.
Steve distracted himself from his ruminations by calling their children at home. His teenaged daughter answered promptly to assure him that everything was okay. With a bit of prompting, she even took a selfie that she texted to him just to prove that her younger siblings hadn't burned the house down, yet. After she reminded him that this wasn't the first time that she had held down the fort for an overnight date, he accepted her encouragement to just relax and enjoy the weekend date with his wife.
As the conversation ended, Steve found himself rejoicing that his husbandly pride had not dissuaded him from reconciling with Stella. He had entertained fantasies about finding another woman, even a younger woman, that he might have started a new family with. However; his tentative explorations had compelled him to the realization that this was merely a fantasy for any man except perhaps Donald Trump. The few woman that might have been available to him had been around the block at least once and may be even a few times. They had already been burdened with a child or children of their own from previous husbands or boyfriends. All had proclaimed that they were done having children even if they were still capable. He had also realized that even if he had by some miracle found a new wife to have a family with, he would have lost the daughters that he already had with Stella.
Only after his eldest daughter had hung up did Steve contemplate the implications of his daughter's assurances. Stella's refusal to trust their oldest daughter to hold down the fort to enable overnight dates with her husband had contributed to the frustrations and resentments that had motivated her demands for a trial separation. Attending this wedding was their first overnight date since their reconciliation. The obvious conclusion was that she had trusted their eldest daughter to hold down the fort during the months that they had been living apart. Steve might have been shocked if not for the fact that Stella had made no secret of the fact that she was dating other men during the year of their estrangement. He had not been too obtuse to deduce that she often exploited Steve's weekends with their children to go on weekend dates with these suitors.
After the phone call had ended, the band shifted to more modern, faster paced music. Steve was amazed and shocked as the members of the wedding party began to dance in a far more provocative manner. Steve had read about freak dancing, but he had never witnessed it. It was all the more shocking because it was Stella turning her back to the best man so that he could rub his groin against her butt in a blatantly suggestive manner. She obviously was not unaccustomed to this provocative form of dancing.
As the obscenely prominent bulge in the best man's trousers became even more intimidating, a memory of watching his wife getting dressed for the wedding asserted itself. Steve had become aroused by the sight of Stella bending over to hook the garter straps of her blue bustier to her stockings. He had been mildly amazed that her lingerie had accentuated rather than concealed her unshaven but neatly trimmed sex as she put her gown on. Going commando had been almost taboo before their separation. The realization that there wasn't even a layer of filmy fabric to protect her sex made her provocative dancing with the best man all the more threatening.
Eventually; the wedding party's customary dancing with all of the traditional combinations and permutations of partners was completed and Stella returned to her waiting husband. He was thoughtful enough to have another glass of champaign already waiting for her. Steve was only somewhat surprised at how quickly she finished the glass. She had been a teetotaler before their trial separation, but that had also changed. So many things had changed during the year that they had been living apart.
After Stella had made a trip to the ladies' room and had yet another glass of champaign, she was ready to dance with her husband. As Steve stumbled through the steps he finally found the courage to gently confront his wife with his fears. "I'm sorry that I'm not as good a dancer as the best man. The way you two danced together, one might think that he was an old boyfriend of yours or at least reminded you of an old boy friend."
Stella giggled almost drunkenly, "don't be silly. There weren't any black guys for me to date in our home town."
Steve challenged the obvious evasion by asking, "how about during the months that we were separated? Did you date any black men then?"
After a few moments during which it was obvious that Stella was contemplating how to lie to her husband she confessed, "I did date a few black guys, just to satisfy my curiosity."
"Was your curiosity satisfied?" Steve paused before nervously accusing, "did they measure up to your expectations?"
Steve was not just expecting but hoping that his wife would be deceptive or at least evasive. Unfortunately; the champaign compelled candor. "Yes. The black men that I dated measured up to my expectations," she confessed defiantly." After a momentary pause she attempted to comfort her obviously shocked and distraught husband by assuring him, "only one of them was truly spectacular. Are you angry with me?"
"I'm not happy about it, but I guess that I have no right to be angry," Steve reluctantly assured his wife. "Our marriage councilor did warn us about the pitfalls of dating other people during our trial separation. However; we never committed to not dating other people and you never made a secret of the fact that you were dating other men. Since I didn't object at the time, I have no right to condemn you now."
Stella asked with unexpected sobriety, "why didn't you object?"
"I guess I was feeling guilty. I was feeling guilty about the complacency that had become so frustrating for you that you demanded a trial separation. I was also feeling guilty because I knew that while you had insisted on remaining a virgin until our wedding night, I had allowed myself to sow my wild oats while I was in college. It would have been hypocritical of me to object to you satisfying your curiosity about other men while we were separated. I guess that I was hoping that you would be willing to reconcile once you had an opportunity to sow your wild oats as I had."
