“Look at them, Mom! They look like professionals! And Steve bid $300 for the dance! I hope some great looking guy bids like that for me someday. Gwen is so beautiful. Isn’t this really cool, Mom?”
“It appears that you’ve danced before, Mr. Hammer,” stated Gwen through her smile as she looked up at Steve. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? I hope you’re not expecting anything extra for the $300 you just donated to a very worthy cause.”
“What more could I hope for than to hold the prettiest girl in the state in my arms for a dance? This is a great bargain for me. I would’ve gone a lot higher if need be,” revealed Steve. “Can I assume that you’ve had some dance lessons as well, Madam?”
“Aunt Diane actually teaches dance. I’ve had more than a few lessons, but I feel like a beginner with you,” laughed Gwen. “A beginner at life it seems. You’re making me learn fast.”
“I never will forget the way you look tonight, Gwen,” whispered Steve as he sang with the song and pulled Gwen slightly closer.
“Careful, Big Boy,” chided Gwen. “Remember ‘the talk’ my father gave you. He’s watching us right now. You don’t want to face his wrath, do you?”
“I think I’d risk almost anything for you, Gwen, but not your reputation. Can I give you a brief kiss when the song ends?” asked Steve. “It would be very quick and no one would notice.”
“Yeah, right, you silver tongued devil. If you’re willing to face the ire of my father, go for it, Tough Guy. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” advised Gwen.
As the song ended, Steve bent over and briefly kissed Gwen on the lips and then quickly pulled back from her. To his surprise, the entire building broke into applause and cheers! There were more than a few whistles and cat calls as well. Men slapped him on the back as he led Gwen back to her seat. Steve was surprised to find both Charlotte and Bev in tears.
“That was the most beautiful, romantic thing I’ve ever seen!” sobbed Charlotte. “It looked like a scene out of “Pretty Woman” or something.”
“Sis, can I dance with this guy?” interrupted Kate. “I was going to wait till later, but that was so hot! Can I have the next slow one with Steve, please, Sis?”
That was how the rest of the evening went for Gwen. When she wasn’t dancing with Steve, she was besieged with requests from other girls, and women, asking her for permission to dance with her date. That was totally new ground for Gwen and she decided that she liked it. Almost everyone accepted that her approval was required. Steve even told the girls so bold as to ask him for a dance that he was with Gwen and her permission would be needed. Strangely, Gwen felt equally as good dancing only with guys that asked Steve first. Even her father received Steve’s permission before he led Gwen onto the floor.
The auctioned dances were fun, but nothing came close to the $300 that Steve had bid for Gwen. That is until Steve had the spotlight fall on him. Gwen was amazed at the spirited bidding by several of the town’s more respected ladies. The bidding started at $50 and hit $500 before Gwen could even try to determine how much cash she could spend. Dorothy Davis was the top bidder when the dust cleared at $650. She was a forty something widow whose older husband had made her his second wife. That was just a year before he died from a massive heart attack. She was wealthy, bored and determined to buy the dance with Steve.
For his part, Steve felt embarrassed standing there as the bidding escalated between several ladies he did not know. He felt like a prized bull at auction. When it was all over and Mrs. Davis came to the stage to claim her prize, she requested “MacArthur Park”, which Steve thought was a strange selection. Eventually he determined the reason for its selection by Mrs. Davis.
“May I call you Steve?” asked Mrs. Davis as she stepped into his arms and pressed her impressive chest against his stomach. “You can call me Dorothy. I loved watching you with your beautiful girlfriend earlier. I put a bug in the DJ’s ear that he’d really help this benefit by enlisting you in an auction. I didn’t realize that those bitches would be willing to go so high, but it’s for charity. I can write it all off. You dance so well, Steve. Have you had lessons?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” responded Steve. “My mother made sure that I was exposed to arts and culture. She said that she didn’t want me to be social moron when I went out into the world on my own.”
“She was exactly right, Steve. My goodness, you’re strong! I hope you have good stamina. This song lasts for seven minutes. That’s why I requested it. That means it cost me less than $100 per minute,” laughed Mrs. Davis. “If you should ever break up with your girlfriend, I could offer you a very good position with my company, if you understand my meaning, Steve. Somehow, you seem like the type that would be a very loyal friend, so I won’t even suggest that anything ever come between you and your lady. I just want you to know you have options if your romance goes south. Oh, it seems that my song has ended already. That was a very fast seven minutes!”
Steve bowed and thanked Mrs. Davis and returned to his table. This time there were friendly jibes and smirks tossed his way. Gwen was seated, waiting for his return.
“Tell me Steve, how did you enjoy that dance? It looked like her “girls” were attached to your stomach. Do you like older women?” quizzed Gwen.
“Gwen, please believe me. I tried to hold her back without being too obvious, or seeming too rude. She was pretty determined,” explained Steve.
Suddenly everyone at the table burst into gales of laughter. Steve realized that he had been teased and that Gwen was not angry and he felt immediate relief.
“You should have seen yourself, Steve. The more she tried to lean into you, the more you leaned back and grimaced. You acted like her boobs were hot irons being pressed against your stomach,” chuckled Mark. “I can’t imagine how much you must’ve suffered.”
“You’re exactly right, Mark,” confessed Steve. “It isn’t easy having two giant implants pushed into your abdomen. Not many men could have taken that sort of punishment, but since it was for a good cause, I took one for the team.”
“Did you take one, or did you take two for the team?” quipped the usually very quiet Bev. “It sure looked like two. I bet they look like torpedoes when they’re turned loose. She probably has to be careful to not get her nipples caught between her toes when she showers.”
Some of Steve’s football teammates would stop by the table and chat with Steve, but they seemed uncomfortable hanging around too long. His new friends noticed it and made comments about it from time to time. They felt that the jocks looked down on them for being smart and getting good marks.
“It really works both ways, guys,” observed Steve. “They probably think that you look down on them for not being as smart as you are. That discomfort they show could be caused by fearing that they’ll say or do something you feel is stupid. It’s all a question of communication and insecurities. We all have them and we need to understand that fact.”