I had no idea what Donna’s end-game was. ‘Was she trying to make me cum in my pants?’ I would pull it out and cum on her foot first. All that became a moot point when we heard music start up in an adjacent room. I signaled for the check as Donna continued molesting my cock. The waiter appeared at the table with a leather-bound book. I briefly examined the check and placed cash for the bill and a generous tip in the book and closed it. I casually said, “Would you like to dance?”
Her sultry smile changed to an excited grin as she pulled her foot out of my lap and said, “I’d love to. I haven’t gone dancing in ages.” She bent down again and struggled to get her shoe back on. I was grateful for the extra time to get the tent in my slacks to go away.
As I took Donna in my arms in a slow dance, my heart was hammering in my chest. The last woman I had danced with was Anna. She loved to go dancing. We had taken lessons. She especially liked to Tango and she was very good at it. Her beauty and grace always brought the house down with applause which embarrassed her. Fortunately, in the Tango, the guy is mostly a prop to display the sensual moves of his partner. I had my part to play too but I can guarantee that no one was looking at me.
Donna and I danced to fast songs and slow ones and when a Tango started, I ushered Donna off the dance floor and back to our table. We were both breathing a little hard and her shoulders glistened with perspiration. Donna took a sip off her drink and said, “Do you Tango?”
I hesitated a moment and then nodded and said, “I used to; a long time ago.”
Donna obviously sensed the change in my mood and she said, “I love to watch couples who really know how to Tango. It’s so sensuous. It turns me on. I wish I knew how. Maybe you could teach me.” She looked into my eyes which were starting to moisten. She said, “I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories.”
I smiled and said, “Only good ones.” Her smile faltered and she took another sip mostly because she didn’t know what else to do or say.
We danced a few more dances and we held each other close as we moved to the slow beat of the music. I felt bad that I’d bummed her out. I kissed her on the neck below her left ear and her moan was barely audible above the music. She turned to kiss me back and we held the kiss for a long moment.
We went back to our table and finished out drinks, paid the tab and left. On the way home I was quiet and so was Donna until from out of the blue she said, “Your wife died, didn’t she?”
I was struck dumb by the question but I gathered myself and after several moments of hesitation, I said, “Thirteen years ago. We were both twenty-five. I’m sorry that I keep getting pulled down by things that make me think of her.”
Donna was quiet a moment and then said, “The Tango? You danced the Tango with her. That made you think of her.”
I nodded and said, “She loved the Tango and she owned the dance floor. Other dancers cleared the floor just to watch her.”
Donna said, “You must have been pretty good yourself.”