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.
We danced again last night in our bedroom. The competition is in three days. We ordered my husband some fancy dancy handmade leather tango shoes from Italy for the event. It took them three weeks to make and ship, but they arrived two days ago smelling up the kitchen with their leathery freshness when we opened the box.
“Wow,” he exclaimed when he squeezed his foot in one of them. “They fit my feet like a glove. This is amazing. Thanks, babe.”
The way he brushed his hand against my arm and down my back last night was tender seduction. My hand fell to the curve of his back in a graceful poetic tuck of the wrist. The middle finger grounds me to his body while the rest innocently stick out. Love permeated from our bodies as we embraced for the dance and made the first circular move with our feet.
“Five minutes of dancing,” I said a moment before that.
“Fifteen,” he countered.
It was 10pm, the kids were in bed, and both of us were tired from the day’s many activities.
“Five,” I held firm and pressed play on the music app on my iPhone. The music began and soon thereafter our feet.
I was a bad girl last night.
A few girl friends came over, and we drank several bottles of champagne between us. By the time my husband got back, I was what you might call tipsy. Not drunk, no I’ve only been truly drunk a few times in my life, but I was definitely feeling a bit more chatty than usual. My cheeks were rosier too. My laughs were louder. Then I wanted to dance.
“Some women have large breasts, a small butt, and a big pussy. Other women have small breasts, a big butt, and a small pussy. I’ve had women with small breasts, a small butt, and a big pussy. They’re all great, but you’re the best, my love,” my husband says as he runs his rough hands from soft swollen breasts, across my taunt stomach, over my round hips and down to the honey hole between my legs, “because you have large breasts, a small waist, a large butt, and a small pussy.”
