Dancing the Night Away

He was a big motherfucker.

I had to crane my neck and look up at him in order to look him in the eyes. He was smirking at me. He'd just called me a pussy, told me he was going to go home with my wife and that there was nothing I could do about it, and if I tried to stop him he'd just leave me in a bloody pile on the floor and still end up fucking my wife. I could tell this wasn't the first time he'd played this game. And he had a perfect record.

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We'd been looking for something fun to do on our date nights. Usually date night meant leaving the kids with my mother and going out for dinner and drinks. Sometimes we went down to the water sit and look at the ocean and have a cigarette. Then we'd go home and make love. Sometimes we pulled over and fooled around a little before we made it all the way home. It was fun, but we wanted to mix it up.

So I'd been spending some time looking for a place where we could go dancing. I'd found a few places online and we decided to try one out so that Friday night we dressed up and headed out to a bar I'd read about online that advertised 90s rock music and a dance floor. It was in a decent part of the downtown area and seemed geared towards middle aged people like us so we felt safe enough giving it a try.

We had a light dinner at a nice restaurant we liked. Wine and oysters and salads to start, followed by a steak for me and

chicken for her. We didn't want to eat too heavy because we were both really looking forward to dancing that night. After dinner and another glass of wine we went back to the car and drove to the club.

I was wearing a dark gray suit with thin subtle striping. My wife wore a blue wrap dress. We both knew as the night went on I'd be pushing her to lose her panties and if she was really in the mood she might lose the bra too. It was a fun game we played that always got us in the mood for more fun games once we got home. My wife looked gorgeous as always and I had my hand on her leg as we drove across town to our destination.

When we arrived and went in we were pleased to see a dark but well kept bar with seating and a dance floor. We found a table and I ordered us each another glass of wine while we got the feel of the place. There were a lot of people there, mostly our age, and a good mix of singles and obvious couples like us.

After a little while we decided to hit the dance floor so we got up and left our table and moved out into the crowd looking for a space where we could dance. The music was the stuff we remembered from high school and college and it was easy to dance to and with a light buzz soon we were both losing ourself in the music. Sweating and swaying we danced around each other and then we'd move in and press our bodies together. The room was filled with energy and the vibe was light and inviting. We were both having a great time.

I noticed a guy wearing a brightly colored blue suit dancing with several different women throughout the night. He seemed like he'd come alone and was just dancing with whatever women were willing, but as the night went on and the crowd continued drinking I noticed he was getting more aggressive. Dancing harder and closer to the women in the crowd. Some of them loved it and were grinding their bodies against him, while others seemed turned off and left to find more passive partners to dance with.

He was tall and broad. Easily over six feet and had a body that made me think he'd probably been some kind of college athlete. Probably still spent time in the gym several times a week. By comparison I used to spend a lot of time working out and had been in great physical shape when we'd gotten married nearly 20 years ago, but it had been more than a decade since I'd had a membership anywhere. These days I spent most of my time in front of my laptop and most of my physical exertion was limited to our date nights. In a pose off I knew this guy would have me beat five times out of five.

But I wasn't really paying much attention to him. I was paying attention to my wife. I clocked him and saw him around the bar as the night went on, who wouldn't with that powder blue suit, but he was looking for singles and I was there with my wife so I wasn't really concerned. We were in the same pool, but we were swimming in different waters.

I kept the wine flowing as my wife and I danced the night

away. She always loosened up when she was drinking and it made both the dancing and what I had planned for later tonight more fun. Not that I needed alcohol to get my wife to have sex with me. We had a very active sex life. But she had some body image issues and when she was drinking she was less in her own head about her body and was able to relax and let herself go a little more. I didn't want to end up too lubricated to perform later, so I was trying to walk that fine line between fun drunk and stupid drunk. And I knew I'd have to sober up enough to drive home later so I didn't go too much beyond a pleasant buzz.

As the night progressed more and more of the crowd seemed to be paring off and heading to dark corners or back to their cars. This was a fun and fairly relaxed place, but it was also a place for middle aged singles to find someone to hook up with and more and more hooking up was happening as it got later and later.

We were having a great time, and my wife was really getting into it and starting to turn up the heat on our dances. At some point during the night she had taken a break to hit the ladies and came back with her panties in her fist and then pushed them into my jacket pocket. So now as she turned and pressed her back into my body I could feel her bare ass beneath her dress and let my hands roam across her body. She still had the bra on, but with the thin material of her dress I could feel her nipples stiff and aroused every time I dragged my hands across her chest.

Things were getting hot but we kept it PG13 as we continued to dance and I noticed that the guy in the blue suit was watching us. He'd been dancing with several different women during the last few songs but now he was just hanging around the edge of the dance floor observing, and he seemed to be mostly looking our way. I wasn't putting on a show for anyone and I felt like it was a little creepy that he was just standing there people watching, but it was a public space so I didn't really have any expectation of privacy. Besides, he wasn't my focus. My wife was.

It was getting late and I was thinking it was probably time for us to start heading out after a few more songs when I saw him moving our way. As he got closer I got a better idea of just how big he was. Bigger than me for sure. And soon he was standing right next to us as we danced. My wife hadn't really noticed between the wine and the grinding, but he was definitely encroaching into our personal space and I made the decision that we'd head out after we finished this song. Whatever this guy's deal was I wasn't interested. I was interested in my wife and it was time to get to the most interesting part of the evening.

Then as the song ended I felt him put a hand on my shoulder. Now that was definitely too familiar and so I knocked his hand off my shoulder and grabbed my wife by the wrist and told her it was time to go. When we're in public she follows my lead so when I told her that she didn't question it. She just started moving towards the tables so we could collect ourselves and settle our tab. That's when he stepped in front

of her.

"Hey baby. Can I have the next dance?"

I don't think my wife really registered what he was asking for a moment and then she tilted her head and laughed. "No thanks. I'm just leaving with my husband. Have a nice night." I could tell by her voice that she wasn't taking him seriously and she was more than a little buzzed from th combination of wine and dancing. She made a move to step around him but he stepped quickly and got back in front of her.

"Come on baby. Just one dance. I guarantee you'll enjoy it." He said without even acknowledging me.

At this point I was more than a little irritated so I turned to him and said "Sorry pal. This one's taken. Find your own." And then I took her hand again and started to make our way off the floor.

Apparently he didn't appreciate being rejected because he suddenly grabbed me by the collar of my suit jacket and pulled me towards him. He towered over me and said "Listen pussy. I'm gonna dance with your girl. She's going to love it. And I can tell she's hot to trot, so probably after she grinds up against this meat stick we'll be heading to my car. Not yours. So you can go sit in the corner or go home and cry. But the lady's leaving with me tonight. If you don't like that you can push your luck and after I beat your ass I'm still gonna fuck your girl. Only thing that'll change is you'll be a bloody mess.

Now fuck off."

Standing this close to him I got a better sense of his size. He was a big motherfucker.

I had to crane my neck and look up at him in order to look him in the eyes. He was smirking at me. He'd just called me a pussy, told me he was going to go home with my wife and that there was nothing I could do about it, and if I tried to stop him he'd just leave me in a bloody pile on the floor and still end up fucking my wife. I could tell this wasn't the first time he'd played this game. And he had a perfect record. He knew exactly how to pick out his mark and his size was enough that most men probably slinked away hoping their drunk wives would make the right call. And if the husband's did try to stand up for themselves with his muscles I'm sure he was able to make quick work of them when he had to. He probably got off on that too.

I really didn't appreciate his attitude. And I really really didn't appreciate him putting his hand on me. Twice now. But I also didn't want to spend my night dealing with the police. So I decided to be diplomatic.

"I'll tell you what friend. How about you go find someone else to dance with and we'll go pay our tab and we can all go home to our own beds tonight. Why don't we just leave it at that." I was looking up into his eyes and he was still smirking. I wasn't. I was just looking into his eyes and praying he'd take me up on my offer. I really didn't want this to get violent. I

hate violence.

But he wasn't having it. "Listen pussy. I already told you how this is gonna go. Now get lost before I have to slap you silly." My wife was standing there with a confused look on her face but this little tableau had been going on long enough that she was starting to understand what was happening. She grabbed my coat sleeve and tugged at me a little.

"Come on honey. Let's go. I'm tired."

Neither of us looked at her but I reached over with that arm and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. I didn't want her to be concerned about what might happen. I really didn't want to ruin our night together.

The big guy turned and grinned at her. "Don't worry about honey. He's just going to go have himself a little cry while you and I enjoy a few dances. You'll be back with him in the morning." He laughed at his own joke. What an asshole.

At this point I decided he wasn't going to walk away. I'd brushed him off twice. It was clear we were not interested. But he was committed to playing his game to the end. So be it.

He couldn't say I didn't give him a chance to make a better decision.

He was still holding the lapel of my jacket in his left hand and

his head was turned looking at my wife. We were standing less than a foot apart with his arm bent down between us. I reached up with my left hand and grabbed the hand that was holding on to my suit coat. Back when I used to spend a lot of time working out one of the things I always told my students is if someone gives you a hand, keep it.

With his hand now pinned under mine I struck him below his arm with a short inverted punch to his body. It wasn't really intended to damage, more to shock. I don't think he expected that and suddenly his attention was back to me. He tried to pull his grabbing hand away but I had it pinned to my chest now so all he did was pull me in closer to his body. Which is what I wanted. So while my weight was anchored to his stance I brought my right foot up and scraped it down the front of his pants leg hard, smashing it into the top of his left foot. Now that was intended to hurt. And it did. Even a big motherfucker feels it when you stomp on the small bones of his feet.

I quickly stepped off his injured foot and while he was bellowing from the pain of my stomp I put my right hand underneath his elbow and twisted his elbow up and out while I pulled down hard on his grabbing hand with my pinning hand. That caused his whole arm to rotate awkwardly and put pressure on his shoulder causing him to bend slightly down and in to his right. With his balance shifted to his other foot from his body's reaction to my stomp and his arm and shoulder at a weak angle, it was a simple thing for me to step back with my right foot and extend his arm all the way out

and away from his torso, exposing his elbow joint.

Which I promptly struck with a hard inward block. Stressing and shocking the elbow and hyperextending the joint. It wouldn't be enough to break his arm, not a guy this big and muscular. But it would tear some of the ligaments and it would hurt like a bitch. And if he decided to continue the interaction he wouldn't have much punching strength in that arm now. Not that I planned to give him a lot of chances to punch.

In a matter of about two seconds I'd already hit him several times, most likely breaking at least some of is metatarsals, and torn his left arm to shit. But I was a firm believer in a concept I used to teach called "Beat the Drum."

Beat the Drum means once you have your opponent in a compromised position you press your advantage until you finish. Especially when the big stupid fucker is this big and this stupid and this much of a motherfucker you don't give them a chance to recover. You hit them again and again and again until you're more than sure that any capacity they have for violence has been fully mitigated. And he wasn't there yet. At least not to my satisfaction.

So without hesitation I slipped my striking arm over the top of his damaged elbow and immediately inverted my own arm so that my fist was pointing down instead of up. Then without releasing my grip on his wrist I pulled with my left hand while I struck him in the side of the jaw with a right

hammerfist strike. Then I pulled my right arm back and bent his elbow inward, transitioning into a figure four arm lock that caused him to go up and over backwards and slammed him into the floor, making sure to direct his body so that he would land with his head first.

I released my arm lock as he fell backwards and stood over him as he lay at my feet. I am a nice person. But I also had another rule of fighting that I was a strict follower of.

Kick them when they're down.

I kicked him with the toe of my shoe right in the torso as close as I could approximate to where I'd struck him with my first punch. Then I stomped on the same part of his body from above. The human body is generally fairly good at resisting force from one direction. But when the force is coming from multiple directions it breaks down pretty quickly. I kicked and stomped and stomped and kicked and it only took a handful of strikes for me to feel something in his side give way. Those ribs were going to heel slow and hurt for a long time.

The whole altercation only lasted a few seconds. From the moment he first put his hand on my shoulder to now was probably less than two minutes. And from the moment I punched him to now was less than 15 seconds. I looked down at him, dazed and struggling for air while he moaned and tried to grab his foot and his arm and his head and his ribs all at the same time with only one working arm.

"Well friend," I said as I smiled down at him, "looks like you got well and truly fucked after all." I laughed at the look of pain and fear that crossed his face. I imagine a guy his size probably hadn't looked up at anyone in a long long time. And here he was looking up at the pussy who he had imagined beating and stealing a woman from just moments earlier.

I decided enough was enough and turned to my wife. She was standing there looking back and forth from me to him. She wasn't shocked. She'd seen me fight before, although never in a dance club. She looked down at him and sneered. "That's what you get for messing with a real man." She spit on him as he lay on the floor moaning.

I took her hand and started to head out. But then I stopped and turned to him one more time. And while he looked up at me in fear I raised my right foot and brought it down hard on his left knee. Not hard enough to break bone, but hard enough to do significant damage to his ACL and MCL. I knew from personal experience just how much that hurt and how debilitating that injury would be. He wouldn't be following us to the parking lot. Hell, he wouldn't be hitting the gym any time soon either. Those big muscles of his were gonna atrophy some before he was able to spend any time in the weight room again.

The whole thing happened so fast no one from the club had realized what was going on yet so I made my way to the bar and quickly settled the tab before heading for the door with

my wife and getting in our car. If anyone tried to stop us I was prepared to explain that he started what I finished, and I knew if there was any surveillance footage it would corroborate my story. But no one stopped us. I don't even think they had bouncers. It was a place for forty somethings to mingle and hook up. They probably didn't break up a lot of fights.

With the adrenaline pumping through my system I was already sober enough to drive so we buckled in and I pulled out of the parking lot and made my way towards the interstate to head home.

My wife was pretty worked up over the whole thing. Chicks are wired to get aroused by men fighting over them. It's evolutionary. So we didn't make it all the way home before her bra came off and she started pointing out places we could pull over and park. As we got closer to home we left the interstate and started making our way down county roads and pretty quickly we were in a little pullout off the side of the road and she was unbuckling her seatbelt to climb over the center console. For all my slick moves earlier I was no match for her hands and surrendered right away to her attacks.

We did eventually make it back home. But by then I was pretty drained. It had been one hell of a night.

We'll have to go dancing again soon.