After that first night, Carla only called me when she was horny. Conversations were short. I was not allowed to call her. Her excuse was, she had no time to go out on dates and couldn't afford a babysitter for her young son. We had picked each other up at a local dance club. We were there for what some of us called Wednesday night aerobics. After several fast dances of the over age 30 pseudo-bump and grind, we danced some slow dances together. She was shorter than me and a little rounded, but it suited her as her face was cherub-like, sweet and demure, but her smile hinted at playful and dangerously wicked - in a good way. She wore an all-black skirt and satin black blouse with sheer black pantyhose. It matched her hair color.
Her creamy white skin was smooth and soft. Her perfume smelled seductive, and my pulse rate jumped as I inhaled her essence. The top two buttons of her satin blouse were open, exposing the tops of her breasts as they bulged over her pink demi-bra. We danced closely, but she tightened herself closer against my body. When she got herself situated where she wanted against my body, she began grinding her crotch into my leg as she unbuttoned my shirt with her teeth - right there on the dance floor as we danced. My crotch muscle began swelling and this was her confirmation that the future of things she had in mind was looking good.
That was a first for me, to be sure. It had been a long, lonely time after my divorce, and she was coming-on strong. I was more than interested, but I couldn't afford to get emotionally involved again - not this soon. I didn't even know why I was there. I guess I wanted to have a few drinks where the people were having fun. It was also "Ladies Night" and draft beer was a dollar. Maybe I just wanted to find out if I was still attractive to the opposite sex.
My self-esteem had hit rock bottom because "she" fell for the guy at work with the white Cadillac with red leather interior. I had no idea she was so shallow. Yeah, I was sick. I once waited for her under a streetlamp across the street from her apartment for her to come home after a date and watched her kiss him goodnight on the front porch before I couldn't take it anymore. Stupid. That was months ago, and I was desperately trying to climb out of my emotional cellar.
As we danced, Carla used her nose to spread my now partially unbuttoned shirt wider than placing her face into my chest and took a deep sniff of my leftover cologne and pheromones soaked in salty perspiration and gave my chest a few slow licks over toward my left nipple as her crystal blue eyes seared into my gaze while I watched her. Both of us were still hand in hand, swaying with our hips to the slow music that neither of us ever heard or could remember afterwards.
It was getting later, and the dance crowd had begun thinning. Tomorrow was another workday and hump-day was nearly over... or was it? The D.J. came on the P.A. and said, "Folks! You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. We'll see you all again next week and be safe until then. Goodnight!" We took our time as the bright lights came on. I went back to the bar to tip the bartender and check whether I stashed my necktie in my sport coat pocket or my trench coat pocket. I escorted Carla to her coat and helped her put it on. It was a cool evening when we went it, but it was 1:30 AM and there was frost in the air, but not yet on our windshields. I escorted her to her car, and we "negotiated" with our lips and hands leaning against her driver's side door. Her hands reached lower for what she wanted to be already hard, and I was satisfied her breasts were real. She only said one thing. "I don't want to go home right now."
"Wanna follow me out to the country?" I took the back roads, avoiding the main roads at all costs. It was quicker anyway. We went quietly in through the front door, and I explained up front that this was not my house, but belonged instead to my roommate, Max. We took off our shoes and left them by the door and tiptoed up the oaken staircase to the hardwood floors on the second level. My room was the first one on the right and was the smallest bedroom in the house. I snapped on the light and shut the door. I didn't need much room. One tends to lose all the good furniture after divorce.
