We danced

Once the door was opened, he stumbled in. I asked where the bathroom was. He just pointed down the hall. When I came out, Chandler had music on his stereo playing. He held out his hand, “A birthday dance before you go? A chance to say Thank You.”

I rolled my eyes, but took his hand. I was sure the dance wouldn’t last long. I could humor him. He pulled us close together. Belly-button to belly-button. We were the same height when I was in these cowboy boots. Our hands held palm to palm and he placed my hand on my upper back. He guided me around his living room. After he spun me, his hand was on my lower back. Our hips were in sync, almost conjoined as we glided on his hardwood floors.

I’ll admit: he had some moves and we danced much longer than I anticipated. I enjoyed the way he took control, and guided me to what he wanted me to do. It was a sexy trait I didn’t know he had. I could see why a random girl might be attracted to him.

Then he spun me so my backside pressed against his frontside. Our hips swiveled together: his crotch glued to my butt. He raised my arms in the air, then dragged his hands down them to my shoulders, down the curves of my breasts, past my waist to rest on my hips. The touch was so intimate. He never would’ve done that in front of Ross.

I ground my ass into him, showing him what I could do. I wasn’t just a dead fish, I had some skills too. I did the exact thing I was judging that girl for: shaking my booty on a guy’s dick.

Chandler combed my hair off my neck. His lips moved dangerously close up my exposed skin. I could feel the wetness of his lips. I turned and looked back over my shoulder at him. The look was in his eyes. He desired me so much. I felt craved. His lust melted my core.

This was the moment to kiss. To release the tension. To tear into each other.

Instead the song ended, he spun me, then bowed. “Happy birthday,” he said and winked.

Fuck, dancing with my boyfriend’s friend got me wet.