We won.
We won the dance competition, and it felt fantastic. When they called our names, my husband and I were stunned. Stunned mainly because there were so many great performances and so many high scores. Dancing for each other all these years has been enough, but being recognized for our dancing by the judges pushed the experience to an entirely new level.
I felt like we were partners yesterday, partners in every single way. Even at our last push dance practice in our bedroom moments before we left, he and I ran through some minuet details, and each of us made a few adjustments. Like a team, we knew our drill and what each of us needed to bring to the dance floor. His job was to lead the routine and stay strong for me, mine was to keep the pace slow and sexy while acting overly dramatic. We realized that’s what an audience wants out of the tango.
It was a night of lights, glamour, photos, and music. My wine glass was ever full, and I must have hugged and kissed two hundred people. Our trophy was enormous and glittered under the disco lights.
“Life is good,” my husband whispered in my ear. He squeezed me tight.
“I love you,” I whispered back squeezing him from around his back.
I truly do wish I had the ability to write exactly how the night felt. I wish I could paint the picture of the evening exactly as I perceived it. It was out of a dream, really, even as we left the gala.
He whisked me away from the ballroom, through the corridors of the building, and opened the door of our Mercedes parked out front. He placed our Super Bowl size trophy on the back seat. Bystanders snapped photos around us whispering things like They’re the winners. God, he’s handsome. I love her dress.
We were just so damn happy to have won. We kept recounting our evening, our walk into the ballroom, the fact that we followed our plan to be serious and act dramatic. We recounted the judges’ comments, the scores, the post-dance interview, the moment we realized our many years of dancing weekly had bloomed into something very beautiful.
“That one judge said she just loved the way I looked at you, Stella. And I thought I didn’t look at you much at all!”
“And the other judge said we looked like we needed a room! Then we find out we won a free night at that hotel.”
My husband and I laughed and laughed all night. We were on cloud 9. We chose to go home because our bed is the most comfortable in the world. Really it is.
When we bursted back into our bedroom, we tried to figure out where to display our win. It goes perfectly with our goddess palace glam decor. My husband said that if I didn’t want in it our space, though, he’d proudly display in his man cave.
Oh, and did I tell you that I was bleeding like a dying cow? Yep… bloated and bleeding. The cramps were bad too. My husband escorted me to the restroom several times thorough the evening to “fix” things.
So when we decided to cement our winning with a post-dance fuck, let me just say it wasn’t the best decision. We tried to get in the mood sexually, but my body wasn’t having it.
“I can’t honey,” I said after a few minutes. He even put me on my back on the heating pad again. We make love often while Aunt Flow is visiting, most of the time it works just fine. Last night was awful. It was as if all of the excitement and anxiety and passion and fear from the last month had processed through my body and was dumping out like toxic release. I felt free, but not horny.
Guess that’ll be in another day or so.
“Can I swallow your cum instead, my love?”
“Of course, my queen, I’d love that.”
I held out my tongue and waited for his release. It was sweet. It was salty. It was sexy and satisfying. Like little kids excited about Christmas, it still took us forever to fall asleep.