'I'm married, so it's just a dance.' I giggled. The next time I passed by the dancing which was away from the house near the tree-line of the large yard I lingered until someone asked me to dance. He was a little too drunk he confessed, but told me I could if I kept it clean. I noticed some dancing going on and told my husband the next time I bumped into him that I wanted to dance. We drifted together and apart as the night progressed.
Heavy coats and long cold nights had kept me covered and I was feeling frisky and daring. On this particular night we had been cooped up all winter. 'Maybe when we're forty and sick of each-other' we joked. We once discussed going further and decided at the time against it. He knows I'm attractive and likes when others take notice. My husband Darren is pretty average, tall dark, handsome, pretty muscular I guess. In the V of the neck my half-cup push up bra put my cleavage at the lashes of most of the men there. I was wearing a denim skirt, not mini, but not long, and a cream colored blouse that kind of wrapped across my front with a low neck-line. I'm only thirty, in great shape, tall slim in a size 5, big c/d cups that I work out enough to keep pretty perky especially in a push-up bra. I got to the party with my husband and we began drinking and enjoying ourselves. It was a big barbecue to celebrate the warm weather FINALLY arriving.
