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Their frustration was growing, threatening to undo all the progress they'd made. They both knew what they wanted. They both knew what they needed.
And yet, they couldn't seem to find a way to close the deal.
It wasn't for lack of trying.
They'd gone back to the club several times. Again and again, to the same booth. Again and again, Taylor on the dance floor.
Chad had been clear; he wished she'd gone further, but he wanted to be able to see.
"It's not cheating if we do it together," he reassured her, when she said she wasn't sure she could do any more.
At first, she thought her nervousness had pushed men away.
But then, she started to wonder. Was it her? Was she undesirable? Did no one want her?
She knew better. It wasn't a problem to attract a man, but closing the deal, that was proving to be another matter.
Either they scurried away, or wanted her to go somewhere private. How was she supposed to find someone, AND include her husband, up there in the balcony?
Pulling herself into a skin tight, not-at-all-age-appropriate dress, she felt so much pressure to figure something out. Chad was growing frustrated. They weren't even having sex when they returned home. The thrill of "maybe" was long gone.
They needed something more, and they needed it now.
The club was the same as always, a collection of shapes and ages, taking the rough edges off the week. They always had the same waitress; if she noticed or knew what they were up to, she was either too nice to say anything or didn't care.
Taylor had some drinks, and made her way down the back stairs, making her way onto the dance floor. A few men danced with her, but not for long. Then, a younger man - early-to-mid 20s, she figured - danced up on her. She'd pushed younger men away in the past, thinking they preferred someone more their age, but the desperation was getting real.
He was average height and build. Taylor reasoned to herself, he wasn't the kind of guy looking for the best looking woman in the club. Maybe....
They danced loosely, but then up tight and dirty. His hands on her hips, he spun her around and pushed himself into her bottom. She thought she felt something firm in his pants, which was encouraging.
He leaned forward, brushing her hair aside.
"Wanna get out of here?" he asked.
Taylor's heart jumped up a beat. She'd made it this far before, but "out of here" wasn't husband compatible.
But suddenly, she had an idea, born entirely of her own simmering frustration. Maybe, she thought, it was time to be completely direct.
She nodded yes, reaching down and putting her hand on his, resting on her hip.
"Come with me," she said, turning and giving him the sexiest smile she could muster.
Leading him by the hand, she pulled him from the dance floor. Looking up, she saw her husband rise to his feet, his eyes intense through the darkness.
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