by Bart Tracer
Jimmy’s instructions turned out to be spot on. We had no trouble finding Vesper. Especially with the enormous neon sign that adorned its roof.
The Club Vesper, like a lot of nightclubs, had once been a warehouse. The open floorplan and high ceilings had made it perfect for conversion to a dancing venue. And according to the hotel’s busboy, that conversion had paid off in a big way.
Even from a distance, we could see a huge line, winding its way down the street and around the corner of the building. Damn! Waiting in line rated right up there with root canals in my book. But we couldn’t very well muscle our way to the front and bypass all these people who had been here waiting for God knows how long, so we reluctantly took our place at the end of the line.
We’d been standing in line for 10 minutes when I saw one of the club’s bouncers moving along the line. A mountain of a man with skin the color of polished ebony and arms the size of fire plugs, he was scanning the crowd as he walked, picking out the prettier girls and ushering them in.
I knew what he was doing. Stocking the meat market. You could have the best bands and the finest bartenders, but nothing made a nightclub more popular than ensuring that it was filled to capacity with beautiful women. Sure, it might be sexist. It might be morally reprehensible. But it kept the customers coming in and spending money, so that’s what he was doing.
When he reached us, his eyes swept my wife from head to foot, seeming to linger just a moment on Jennifer’s fabulous legs.
“Come with me,” he smiled at her, gesturing toward the front door of the club.
“My husband?” she asked, nodding toward me.
The black man’s eyes turned on me, and I could feel him appraising me. “Sure,” he grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. “Why not?”
He turned and led the way, nodding at an equally enormous man perched on a barstool next to the door.
“Enjoy your visit,” he said as his colleague opened the door wide for us.
“Thanks,” I muttered. I don’t know if he heard me or not. He had already turned and was walking rapidly away in search of more eye candy.
As Jennifer stepped past the doorman, I glanced along the line of people waiting to gain entry and felt a little thrill of pride, to think that the bouncer had plucked my wife from the crowd. Like Jimmy earlier this evening and the man in the hotel restaurant, he saw in Jenny more than just someone’s wife. He saw her as a desirable, beautiful woman. I smiled at the thought and followed my wife inside.
The first thing I noticed when we stepped through the door was the noise. A veritable wall of sound greeted us, blasted by a bank of enormous speakers beneath the DJ stand, as well as countless smaller speakers scattered throughout the building’s cavernous interior. So much for an evening of quiet conversation with my wife! I only had to glance around for a few seconds to decide that the patrons of the Club Vesper clearly were not interested in talking. They were here to dance and drink.
The flashing strobe lights above gave the writhing bodies of the dancers into a surreal stop-action feel to the sweaty, straining figures as they moved to the thumping bass line. Apparently, the bouncers outdoors were doing their job well. The club was packed from wall to wall with some of the prettiest young women I had ever seen, dressed to impress in tight-fitting, revealing clothing of all sorts. And the men who now vied for their attention at the bar or on the dance floor were well-dressed and well-heeled, buying enough drinks to float a battleship and spending like money grew on trees.
Jennifer and I both stood for a second near the entrance and looked around, taking in the scene. When I met her eyes, she smiled broadly and jerked her head toward the rear of the club. Turning, I saw an empty table along the wall in the back and nodded. With her elbow in hand, I steered her through the dimly lit club, weaving in and out of the other clubgoers.
I pulled out a chair for her and, bending low over her from behind, I asked, “Can I get you a drink?”
Jenny nodded rapidly. “Yes!” she said, barely audible over the music. “Tequila Sunrise!”
“Right!” I said. “Be back shortly!”
I strode toward the bar, where I found myself waiting behind a couple of giggling coeds, both wearing outrageously tight tops and skirts so short I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at their tight little asses. Realizing what I was doing, I felt guilty and instinctively turned to look toward my wife, sitting alone at our table. But, when my eyes found her, I was surprised to see that she wasn’t alone at all. In fact, there were two young men sitting at our table with her.
They were young and well dressed, probably college kids. One of them was blond and tan, wearing a polo shirt and sporting perfectly styled hair and a smile that practically screamed ‘old money’. His friend was a black man, tall and muscular, obviously an athlete. They were sitting, huddled low over the table, leaning in to make themselves heard over the din. And Jenny was smiling and laughing with them as though they were old friends.
I watched them with growing curiosity as I waited in line. Did I know those two guys? Did Jenny? No. I was pretty sure we had never seen them before. Then, why had they…? It hit me suddenly, like a bolt lightning: they were trying to pick her up!
Shit! Of course, that was what they were doing! As soon as she had sat down, I had hurried off to the bar. They probably hadn’t even seen me. But she was wearing a ring! my mind protested.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, than I smiled at how ridiculous it sounded. A woman alone in a meat market like this was fair game, ring or no ring. And those two young wolves now chatting with my wife would fuck her in a heartbeat, given half the chance!
That thought ran searing through my brain like a hot knife through butter. Oh my God! I had to get back to her! I had taken half a step when the bartender’s voice shouted, “Next!” behind me. Damn! What would Jenny say if I came back without her drink? With a wistful glance toward my wife and her two young admirers, I turned to him and quickly placed my order.
Hell, I told myself, she’ll be okay for another couple of minutes. It’s not like she’s going to leave with them! While I waited on my drinks, I watched Jenny talking with them, and was surprised to find that I had a boner! She smoothed a loose strand of hair back over her ear, leaning closer to hear something the black guy said, and I felt my heart beat faster. When she laughed at some joke the blond kid had made and touched his bicep, I thought I was going to have a heart attack! Fuck! Why was I getting excited by this?! And why were the drinks taking so damned long?!
“Here you go!” said the bartender behind me. “That’ll be…”
I didn’t wait to hear how much, just tossed a twenty onto the bar without taking my eyes of Jenny and her two new friends and said, “Thanks!” I scooped up her Tequila Sunrise and my beer and started back toward our table.
Jenny saw me when I was about 10 feet from the table and smiled at me warmly. “There he is!” she beamed. “Scott, Jamaal, I’d like you to meet my husband!”
“Hey man! Nice to meet you!” said the blond kid, standing up to offer me his hand. “I’m Scott.”
I didn’t know what to say. In the past couple of minutes, I had alternated a dozen times between wanting to murder these two and considering staying at the bar just to see what happened. “Hi. I’m Ken,” I mumbled. “Um, nice to meet you, too.”
His friend took possession of my hand as soon as Scott released it. “And I’m Jamaal,” he boomed in a rumbling voice that sounded like a thundercloud on a crisp fall day. “We were just keeping Jen here company. Hope you don’t mind!”
“N…no!” I said awkwardly. “Not at all.” I looked down at my hand, dwarfed by his massive black fist and felt a little shiver run through me that I couldn’t explain. “Not at all!”
“You’re a very lucky man, Ken!” he said, casting a sidelong glance at my wife.
When I looked at her, Jenny blushed and avoided my eyes. “Th…thank you,” I stammered. “I guess I am a lucky man!”
“I’ll say!” interjected Scott. “Listen, we’d better take off and let you two enjoy your evening. We’re going to be here a couple of weeks. Maybe we’ll see you around! It was nice meeting you both!”
Jamaal turned to my wife and, taking her tiny hand, planted a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Especially you, Jen!” he winked.
Before I could say anything, they were gone, disappearing like two apparitions into the heaving, shifting mass of bodies. I put our drinks on the table and looked questioningly at Jen.
“C’mon!” she smiled, getting to her feet. “Let’s dance!” She held out her hand to me.
“Okay,” I muttered, taking her proffered hand and letting her lead me to the dance floor.
Jenny found an empty spot on the floor and turned to me, wrapping her arms around my neck as she began to sway to the music. My hands found her hips and I began to move with her. The song was a slow one, a crooning ballad I was unfamiliar with, but it had a good beat for dancing, and we quickly fell into a rhythm.
“So,” I said, “what was the deal with those two?”
“Scott and Jamaal, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
She searched my eyes for a moment, then shrugged, “They’re harmless. Nice guys, actually. And I guess they thought I looked lonely. After all, you did leave me alone for an awfully long time!” She grinned mischievously.
“Uh huh! So, these ‘nice guys’, they didn’t try to hit on you or anything?”
She was silent for a moment, closing her eyes and rocking gracefully back and forth in time with the music. When her green eyes opened again, they stared unflinchingly into mine as the corners of her mouth curled upwards into a sly little smile. “Oh, I didn’t say that. I didn’t say that at all!”
She moved in closer, pressing her body to mine as we danced. Suddenly, her eyes went wide. “Ken!” she gasped. “Are you…?” She glanced down between us, then back up into my eyes. “Baby, why do you have a boner?!”
I pulled back from her, my cheeks hot. “I… I don’t know!” I stammered. “I mean… there… well, there were these, um… these girls at the bar. And I don’t know. Maybe… um, well, maybe because of them.”
Jen nodded her understanding, not saying anything. She moved in again to dance against me. Even with her heels on, she was a good deal shorter than me, but now, as we danced, she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to my ear. “So, it has nothing to do with the fact that two college kids almost picked up your wife?” she whispered.
Fuck! Almost picked her up?! What was she saying?! That sounded like she had actually seriously considered leaving with them! Like I had returned just in time to keep them from fucking her!
I knew, deep down, that she was just fucking with me, teasing me, trying to get a rise out of me, but somehow that didn’t lessen the impact of her words. I swallowed hard, and my cock leapt involuntarily against her belly.
Jenny leaned back, her hands still locked behind my neck, and cocked an eyebrow. “Mm hmm. I thought so.” A smug little grin played about her lips as she stared at me for a few seconds, her eyes locked steadily on mine, before putting her head on my shoulder without another word.
We danced like that until the song was over, neither of us talking, each lost in our own thoughts. I had no idea what to say to her. Hell, I had no idea what was even going on with me. But when the music stopped and my wife took my hand and began to lead me back to our table, I couldn’t deny that a pattern of sorts was starting to emerge. Carlos, Jimmy, the man in the restaurant, and now Scott and Jamaal. Something about other men noticing my wife, flirting with her, coming onto her… it excited me. Why? I had no clue, no clue at all. But there it was.
What was more, Jennifer was obviously aware of my arousal and what was causing it. Her use of Jimmy’s name to tease me when we were in bed earlier, and now discovering my erection when she told me about her two young admirers… she knew. I couldn’t even imagine what she must think of me and my strange reaction to all this, but she was thoroughly enjoying torturing me with it!
We danced through a second song, then a third, with Jenny really letting loose and dancing her heart out. I couldn’t help but notice that she took every opportunity to brush against the now prominent tent in the front of my pants with either a stray hand or her gorgeous ass. Each time she felt my hardness against her, she’d shake her head and give me a knowing look. God, what a tease!
Finally, I convinced her to leave the dance floor, and taking her hand, led her back to our table, where we found our drinks still waiting on us. I pulled out my wife’s chair, then took a seat next to her. Thank God, she didn’t say anything about what had happened on the dance floor, just wrapped her fingers gracefully around her drink and took a sip, watching the other dancers. I took a big gulp of my beer and tried to collect my thoughts.
I’d been married long enough to know that this wasn’t a conversation I was going to be able to avoid. Sooner or later Jennifer and I were going to talk about this. But what was I going to say? Oh, what the hell! I thought. Might as well have it out. When I opened my mouth to speak, I still hadn’t formulated a plan, but before I could say anything at all, Scott suddenly appeared like an apparition at Jenny’s side.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, leaning down and offering her his hand with a glance at me. “With your husband’s permission, of course!” His eyes were bright and friendly, his smile genuine.
Jenny pivoted in her seat, her green eyes studying me coolly, the corners of her lips curling upwards slightly in a sly little grin. “You don’t mind, do you, Ken?” she asked in a voice like honey. Beneath the table, she gave my thigh a little squeeze.
Shit! There was no way I could say no. And deep down, I don’t think I wanted to. My eyes moved from her to the handsome young man and I felt my stomach clench. I forced a smile and shook my head, “No. Not at all! Have fun.” To my ears, it sounded like a nervous croak, but no one else seemed to notice.
Jenny smiled at me and winked, then took Scott’s hand, rising gracefully. “Thanks, sweetie! Be back in a minute!”
In spite of my attempt to appear casual, my heart was racing in my chest. Calm the fuck down! I told myself. This isn’t the first time your wife has ever danced with another man! I took another swig of beer and watched my wife’s cute little ass swaying enticingly away from me atop her tall heels as Scott placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the dance floor.
Damn, she looked good. The sleek black dress clung to her fit curves, the hem bouncing merrily with each step, the neckline practically forcing you to look at her cleavage. No wonder this Scott kid was interested. An involuntary shudder ran through me. Get a grip, I thought. It’s just a dance. It’s not like he’s going to take her somewhere and fuck her! Shit! Why had that thought popped into my head?
To my chagrin, I discovered that I once again had an erection, painfully trapped, pointing the wrong direction in my underwear. My eyes darting around surreptitiously to make sure nobody was looking, I brought a hand under the table to my lap and eased my cock into a more comfortable position.
When I glanced up again, Jenny and Scott had found an open space on the dance floor. I watched breathlessly as she wrapped her bare arms around his neck, just as she had done with me earlier, and began to move her body in time with the music. I was surprised to see Scott place his hands respectfully on her waist and begin to dance with a good 10 inches of space between them. He matched her pace, quickly falling into rhythm, and they began to dance.
Once again, the DJ was playing a slow song, some 90s heartache ballad that I had once known all the words to as a kid. It was perfect for dancing. Jenny loved to dance, and she was a good dancer. Always had been. And tonight was no different. She might’ve had a couple of years on most of the other girls on the dance floor, but my wife was easily the most graceful and beautiful woman on the floor.
Just like before, when I had watched them from the bar, Jenny smiled and laughed at Scott’s unheard
conversation, giving me a lump in my throat that rivaled the one in my pants. I wondered what he was saying to her. Had he told a joke? Was he flirting with her? God, I wished I could hear what they were talking about!
It was innocent, really. Just two strangers sharing a dance. The rational part of my brain knew that nothing untoward was taking place. Hell, they were barely touching! Arm’s length, junior high dance stuff. But that other part of my brain, that darker part that I had managed to keep always hidden from everyone, including myself, saw something else entirely.
Scott was an attractive young man, and my wife was beyond gorgeous. Watching them together and having been a young man myself, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he would be more than willing to fuck my wife. Shit! I was going to have to stop thinking about that! Otherwise, my boner was going to burst a seam!
I tore my eyes from my wife and took another swig of my beer. As I did so, I heard the song end and turned my eyes expectantly back toward the dance floor. Sure enough, Scott and Jenny were headed back to our table. Then, about halfway there, Jamaal intercepted them.
Damn! I know exactly what was going to happen now, and I wasn’t wrong. Jenny looked up at me and smiled, shrugging her shoulders, then took Jamaal’s hand and turned back toward the dance floor.
If my imagination had run wild while she was dancing with Scott, it really kicked into overdrive when she started to dance with Jamaal!
The first thing that caught my eye when she wrapped her arms around his neck was the contrast in their skin colors. Jenny did a lot of her jogging wearing shorts and a tank top, which had given her something of a tan. She wasn’t exactly bronzed, but she also wasn’t what you would call pale, either. Jamaal, on the other hand, was dark. Very dark. Up close, his skin was the same hue as fine chocolate. In the dim lighting of the club, it looked as black as the wing of a raven.