I watched Danielle's round ass sway across the room as she headed through the crowd toward the bathroom... but the crowd might as well not have been there. I wasn't seeing anything but her soft, round curves as she glided across the room.
My wife Sasha and I had just met Danielle at one of those boring business parties I had to go to - the type of affair where it's more important to "be seen" than it is to have a good time. Of course, it was easier to "be seen" with Sasha on my arm. No doubt about it - my wife looked phenomenal. She's sometimes self-conscious of her big beautiful body, but she knows how to dress to impress. Her big breasts and wide hips were on prominent display in the tight low-cut red dress she was wearing. She'd also decided to "spike" her short silver hair with some pink hair gel, giving her just enough "punk rock" to offset the formal dress she was wearing. She knows how to play the corporate game with the best of them... but she never lets people forget she's more than just "Curtis' wife."
After making the rounds and "being seen" by the appropriate people, we took our drinks to a bar table (you know, one of those pedestal tables you stand, rather than sit at.)
"I cannot wait to get out of these shoes," Sasha grumbled as she looked down and flexed her foot. "They're destroying my back."
"I think we can get out of here soon," I replied quietly, scanning the room to be sure I'd made contact with everyone important. "I know the shoes are killing you - but if it makes you feel any better, they're having the desired effect... Your ass and legs look amazing!"
"Can't disagree with that," a woman's voice said behind us. We both jumped and turned to look across the table. There, with a Champaign flute and a small plate of hors d'oeuvres, was a dark-haired vision. She had sparkling brown eyes, somewhat heavy brows, and a wide mouth framed by full crimson lips. Some might have called our table companion "heavy" or "overweight," but I found her round curves utterly captivating. Those curves were being hugged perfectly by a wrap-around floral dress, and the dark hair piled on top of her head and trailing down past her ears contrasted wonderfully with her pale skin. I guessed that she was in her late 30's (but I'm the first to admit I'm horrible at guessing ages... I'd thought Sasha was only a few years older than I when we first met, and she turned out to be 15 years older.)
"Oh God," Sasha exclaimed (I was glad she could still talk - I was suddenly having trouble remembering how to do that...) "I am so sorry! We were focused on other things and didn't see you standing there. We didn't mean to invade your table."
"Ah, no big deal," the woman said with a smile. "I should have posted more guards at the border. My own fault."
We all laughed and introduced ourselves. It turned out Danielle didn't work at my company. She'd been invited by a friend of hers who works in the HR department - Sally... something or other. Sally something or other had engaged in a loud fight with her boyfriend and stormed out about twenty minutes after Danielle arrived, leaving her at the party alone.
"I thought about leaving," she said as she picked up a stuffed mushroom with her little plastic fork, "but then I thought what the Hell - the drinks are free and the food isn't bad. I might as well get a free meal out of the night."
"Well, don't worry," I said dropping my voice. "We won't blow your cover. They decided not to put donuts on the buffet line, so there aren't any cops around to blow your cover to, anyway."
She fixed me with a steady look and popped the mushroom into her mouth. "Good one," she said as she chewed, then swallowed. "I'll remember to tell my Captain about it when I get into the precinct tomorrow."
I'm sure everyone at the party didn't stop talking and turn to look at me - but it sure felt that way. It was as if the air was sucked out of the room, and I was ground-zero for the explosive decompression. I opened my mouth to apologize and Danielle burst out in a deep, throaty laugh.
"Oh my God," she gasped in between guffaws, "the look on your face! Curtis, you looked like a fish trying to breathe after being yanked out of the river!"
I turned to look at Sasha. She looked at me, then immediately broke out laughing herself. This set Danielle off again, and the two of them held on to the small table for support as they chortled, snickered, and probably made several other mocking noises in my direction.
"Oh God," Danielle said again as she wiped her eyes and caught her breath. "I'm not a cop. For God's sake, look at me - they'd never let me stay on the force if I was this heavy. Besides, where would I hide a gun in this dress?"
"Oh, you look pretty inventive," Sasha chimed in as she tried to breathe. "I'm sure you could find someplace to strap one on." A look of horror passed across Sasha's face as she realized what she'd just said. She looked at Danielle, then at me, and this brought on another round of laughter.
No, Danielle wasn't a cop. It turned out she was actually an architecture student, pursuing her master's degree at a university in San Antonio Texas. She'd flown in earlier that week to interview for a summer internship at one of the city's more prestigious architecture firms, and was slated to fly out in a couple of days.
She was incredibly engaging, and easy to talk to. Before we knew it we were sharing life stories - talking about where we were from, our families, even Sasha and my age difference. We'd just started talking about what it was like for a distinguished (ha!) 60 year old lady to be saddled with a 45 year old husband when Danielle excused herself to go to the bathroom... and we got treated to the view of her round ass swaying across the room.
After a second or two I realized I was staring and self-consciously glanced at my wife. The smirk on her face was plenty of evidence that she knew what I was watching.
"Yeah," she asked me?
Caught. Well, Sasha and I have made a commitment to always be honest with each other - about everything. I felt my face redden a little, and I said, "Yeah."
Sasha chuckled to herself, then she leaned in a little and raised her eyebrow. She smiled a secret little smile. "...Yeah?"
"Oh," I said. I searched her face for a moment, glanced to ladies room door, and then looked back at my wife. "Uh... yeah!"
"Ok, then," she said as she downed the last of her drink. "Let's see what happens." She stepped around behind me, leaned in, and whispered, "as if you would have said no. She's just the type that gets you all hot and bothered." Then she kissed my ear, patted my ass, and headed for the ladies room herself.
I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until I let it out. Again my eyes followed a round swaying ass glide towards the ladies room (this time in a tight-fitting red dress) then I took out my phone and called a hotel near the airport.
Sasha and I don't do this sort of thing often. We've been married over 20 years, and in that time we've been quite happy together. Our age difference hasn't been much of an issue in our relationship - until recently. As we both got older, our sex drives gradually diverged into different rhythms. I'm still raring to go at a moment's notice, while Sasha's not quite as hungry for sex as she once was. To complicate matters further, after she went through menopause Sasha started having a lot of problems with vaginal dryness - making penetration very uncomfortable for her, no matter how much lubricant we use.