My husband and I went steady all through high school, married shortly after we graduated. You guessed it. I have, or should say had, never even kissed another guy. I mean serious kissing. I didn’t think of myself as prudish but I never said any dirty words. Not even when Tom and I had sex, which wasn’t all that often. The church would have been proud of us; sex was basically this is how you make babies.
About fifteen years into the marriage, I began feeling bored and restless. This is not to say I didn’t love my two girls and Tom. Everything was just so normal. I began reading romance novels, and then would feel guilty about thinking impure thoughts.
In the weeks that followed Sues encounter, she and I would sometimes giggle over the sight of Martin Pratt’s penis (I still didn’t say things like cock even with Sue). Tom and I also got to know the Pratt’s, just neighborly chitchat about the lawn, the weather, etc.
In December the association has a pre-holiday dinner dance. The seating sort of mimics the arrangement of the neighborhood. So the Pratts were at the same table as we were. Sue was at a different table. This was the first time we had been with them socially.
Now I had always thought Martin Pratt looked very ordinary. Probably in his fifties with a full head of hair, gray at the temple. Sort of gray-blue eyes and Scandinavian looking face. He is very tall, I’m sure over six feet. This was the first time I saw him in a suit, and I had to admit he looked somehow distinguished. Sybil on the other hand, who always seemed to be falling out of her clothes looked strangely prim in an ankle length, high collar dress.
Dinner was pleasant conversation and wonderful food. After dinner the music began and Martin and Sybil were immediately on the floor. After a bit I coaxed Tom out to dance but he only tolerated two dances. Martin and Sybil joined us again while the band took a break. When the band resumed Martin asked me to dance. I tried to demur explaining that Tom and I didn’t dance very much. He insisted. It was a fast dance and he soon had me following his every lead. The song ended, I headed for my chair only to hear him pleading for another.
“Oh, I couldn’t. You and Sybil are far too good for me, dance with your wife.”
“Martha, don’t you dare stop. He’ll dance my feet off, plus I think Marty needs a change of partners once in a while.” Sybil called from the table.
Well, that went right over my head but I was back on the floor enjoying Martin whirling me around. That song ended, and he held my hand lightly as the next number began.
“It’s a slow one Martha, how are you at the waltz?” he said as he very gently pulled me into dance position. He didn’t pull me in close, he held me lightly and he seemed to glide around the floor. He was a very good dancer. Without realizing it, I was drawn closer to him, my body lightly rubbing against his. My head came only to his chest, my breasts rubbed against his mid section. Then I felt it. It was hard, it was pressing against my stomach. Yikes! It was his penis, his erect penis. I was sure of it.