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ronin1
Administrator
| Joined: | Saturday January 21st, 2006 |
| Location: | S.F. Bay Area, California USA |
| Posts: | 622 |
| Visits: | 7 | | Currently: | married |
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Posted: Monday May 1st, 2006 05:02 am |
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Wife’s Night Out with the RW…
Well, the other day, my wife went out to a nightclub without me. It was an organized girls' night on the town affair. She was interested in the bikini competition that this club was sponsoring, however it would run into the ‘non-respectable hours’ of the morning. Of course I knew what that meant. On her side she was perhaps thinking it was more of a fashion show, but I knew better. This made me a bit apprehensive.
I sat down my wife and explained to her the differences of such clubs, as I knew them. Well, this just piqued her curiosity and made it more interesting for her. She was absolute in her belief that nothing could happen to her.
Seeing that look on her face, I knew that she was determined to experience something new. I reluctantly agreed to take her, however made the stipulation that I would meet her later in the club when it started to get late.
She dressed for her event with her typical Russian club attire. With her high heels she stands over 6’ so it would not be difficult to spot her on the dance floor. When she was ready to go she looked gorgeous. The 4 years in the States hadn’t changed her figure in the least. This didn’t help my anxieties in the least either.
I dropped her off at the club where her merry cast of RW where waiting for her. I drove home and wrote some posts and did a few other things to occupy my time.
Going back to the club, I felt a bit awkward. My wife chose this venue solely for the bikini competition. After my eyes became accustomed to the darkness of the interior and my ears numbed to the throbbing repetitive booming of the one note bass, I soon realized that the targeted clientele was about the legal drinking age.
I felt a wave of relieve. I was a man among the crowd of kinder. Knowing my wife and RW in general, she would have little interest is such unfinished works. After a few minutes of pushing my way through to the dance floor, I quickly spotted my wife, a tall beacon of red fire amid a moving sea of flesh. She was with her GFs and a hapless stranger. He was a youngling with that glazed look in his eyes. Whiskers sprouted sparingly about his chin. He must have been a good half-foot shorter than the RW. This stranger was loosely dancing with the RW while holding a glass of beer in each hand. The beers were sloshing to a fro as he held them up at shoulder level to entice any of the RW to take. No doubt this was an attempted offering to one or more of the lovelies before him. The RW danced as if he didn’t even exist.
I grabbed my wife by the waist and took my place to dance with her. It was another 15 minutes before the young guy got tired of holding the beers. He drifted away looking for someone more in his league.
The place was packed with guys and few women, or should I say girls. It was like a Russia disco, only that the men-to-women ratio was reversed.
It was funny that it was hard to squeeze any more people onto the dance floor, yet we had more than plenty of space to move. I noticed that many of the single guys were giving us space to just look at us, or should I say look at the RW dance.
Overall, I was pleased at how the evening went. My wife’s GFs were glad to see my entrance. They were relieved to have a man join them. All the RW, including my wife, had an interesting experience. For me, I was glad to see that this test of sorts went well.
Ronin
P.S. Later, my wife briefed me on the other guys and their pickup lines.
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