Wedding Reception Reconciliation

Steve watched nervously as the best man ushered his wife onto the dance floor. His attention had been focused on the matron of honor and the best man ever since the wedding processional when they had walked down the aisle together. His anxiety had been accentuated by Stella's gown. While brides are notorious for making catastrophic fashion choices for their attendants, Stella's niece was a seamstress with a flair for style. The classic, floor length, strapless, blue gowns that she had designed for her wedding attendants were undeniably beautiful.

Stella's gown had been destined to be the most spectacular because she was by far the best endowed woman in the wedding party. Her gown was all the more alluring because she had been fitted soon after Steve and she had reconciled but before the miscarriage. The bride had been too busy to realize that the dress needed to be refitted until only a few days before the wedding. In her frantic haste she had taken in the waist but hadn't had time to recontour the bodice. With Stella's normally impressive breasts no longer swollen to reveal the early months of another pregnancy, the bodice of the gown rode an inch or maybe three lower than the bride had anticipated.

Stella's big breasts had been threatening to escape from her gown throughout the ceremony. Steve and all the other guests had even been treated to a lingering glimpse of the upper halves of her large, dark aureolas through her lacy blue lingerie as she walked back up the aisle, arm and arm with the best man during the recessional.

Although Stella had salvaged her modesty once she reached the narthex by adjusting the bodice of her gown, Steve was expecting or at least hoping that she would be reticent about dancing with the best man. Aside from the obvious risk of another wardrobe malfunction, there was the issue of race. There hadn't been many black people in the small town that she and Steve grew up in. Neither of them had been immune to the mildly racist attitudes that had been so pervasive during their upbringing.

They had both dated other people during the years that their prolonged courtship was interrupted by Steve's attendance at the State university. However; he had been confident that Stella hadn't dated any black men during those years. There had not been any black guys enrolled in the high school that she had been attending during the first few years of their courtship. He had been aware that she had met some drivers who were black during the year that she had been a waitress at the local truck stop, but he had never heard rumors that she was dating any of them.

As the best man took Stella in his arms, Steve was overwhelmed by a sudden insight. His willingness to abide by Stella's desire to remain a virgin until their wedding night had been motivated by his anxieties rather than gallantry. He had known at a visceral level that he could be certain that she wasn't putting out to the other men that she was dating during their prolonged courtship only as long as he allowed her hymen to remain intact. After more than a dozen years of marriage, Stella's precious hymen had been nothing more than a distant memory during their recent estrangement. The rumors about the men that his then estranged wife was dating during the year of their trial separation had been all the more alarming because that delicate membrane was no longer intact to assure him that his spouse was constrained by the morality of her youth. The conviction that his estranged spouse was not remaining celibate while they were living apart had made the rumors and innuendos that she was dating black men as well as whites all the more distressing.

Because of those rumors, Steve had been only mildly surprised that his wife had not been as scandalized as the rest of the family when her goddaughter announced that she was engaged to a black man. Stella hadn't even condemned her late sister's daughter when she tearfully confessed that an unexpected pregnancy had compelled her to expedite the wedding.

Steve watched as his wife allowed the best man to gallantly usher her on to the dance floor to join the bride and groom. Aside from being black, the best man was over a decade younger than Stella. Bitter memories of the questions that had plagued him during the months that they had been living apart were revived by the sight. There was no hint of the reticence that Steve was hoping for as Stella allowed the best man to take her in his arms. It soon become obvious that she was delighted to discover that the best man was far more skilled in formal, ball room dancing than her husband.

Knowing that tradition would keep his wife preoccupied for a long while, dancing first with the best man, then with the groom, then with the groomsmen, Steve got himself another glass of champaign. He literally sat on the sidelines to watch as Stella's reveled in the dancing. As first the best man, then the groom and then the groomsmen whisked his wife around the dance floor, he resolved to honor his promise to take some ballroom dancing classes with her. He didn't want to risk allowing her frustrations and resentments to once again escalate until she demanded a second trial separation. He was certain that there would not be a second reconciliation.

Steve distracted himself from his ruminations by calling their children at home. His teenaged daughter answered promptly to assure him that everything was okay. With a bit of prompting, she even took a selfie that she texted to him just to prove that her younger siblings hadn't burned the house down, yet. After she reminded him that this wasn't the first time that she had held down the fort for an overnight date, he accepted her encouragement to just relax and enjoy the weekend date with his wife.

As the conversation ended, Steve found himself rejoicing that his husbandly pride had not dissuaded him from reconciling with Stella. He had entertained fantasies about finding another woman, even a younger woman, that he might have started a new family with. However; his tentative explorations had compelled him to the realization that this was merely a fantasy for any man except perhaps Donald Trump. The few woman that might have been available to him had been around the block at least once and may be even a few times. They had already been burdened with a child or children of their own from previous husbands or boyfriends. All had proclaimed that they were done having children even if they were still capable. He had also realized that even if he had by some miracle found a new wife to have a family with, he would have lost the daughters that he already had with Stella.

Only after his eldest daughter had hung up did Steve contemplate the implications of his daughter's assurances. Stella's refusal to trust their oldest daughter to hold down the fort to enable overnight dates with her husband had contributed to the frustrations and resentments that had motivated her demands for a trial separation. Attending this wedding was their first overnight date since their reconciliation. The obvious conclusion was that she had trusted their eldest daughter to hold down the fort during the months that they had been living apart. Steve might have been shocked if not for the fact that Stella had made no secret of the fact that she was dating other men during the year of their estrangement. He had not been too obtuse to deduce that she often exploited Steve's weekends with their children to go on weekend dates with these suitors.

After the phone call had ended, the band shifted to more modern, faster paced music. Steve was amazed and shocked as the members of the wedding party began to dance in a far more provocative manner. Steve had read about freak dancing, but he had never witnessed it. It was all the more shocking because it was Stella turning her back to the best man so that he could rub his groin against her butt in a blatantly suggestive manner. She obviously was not unaccustomed to this provocative form of dancing.

As the obscenely prominent bulge in the best man's trousers became even more intimidating, a memory of watching his wife getting dressed for the wedding asserted itself. Steve had become aroused by the sight of Stella bending over to hook the garter straps of her blue bustier to her stockings. He had been mildly amazed that her lingerie had accentuated rather than concealed her unshaven but neatly trimmed sex as she put her gown on. Going commando had been almost taboo before their separation. The realization that there wasn't even a layer of filmy fabric to protect her sex made her provocative dancing with the best man all the more threatening.

Eventually; the wedding party's customary dancing with all of the traditional combinations and permutations of partners was completed and Stella returned to her waiting husband. He was thoughtful enough to have another glass of champaign already waiting for her. Steve was only somewhat surprised at how quickly she finished the glass. She had been a teetotaler before their trial separation, but that had also changed. So many things had changed during the year that they had been living apart.

After Stella had made a trip to the ladies' room and had yet another glass of champaign, she was ready to dance with her husband. As Steve stumbled through the steps he finally found the courage to gently confront his wife with his fears. "I'm sorry that I'm not as good a dancer as the best man. The way you two danced together, one might think that he was an old boyfriend of yours or at least reminded you of an old boy friend."

Stella giggled almost drunkenly, "don't be silly. There weren't any black guys for me to date in our home town."

Steve challenged the obvious evasion by asking, "how about during the months that we were separated? Did you date any black men then?"

After a few moments during which it was obvious that Stella was contemplating how to lie to her husband she confessed, "I did date a few black guys, just to satisfy my curiosity."

"Was your curiosity satisfied?" Steve paused before nervously accusing, "did they measure up to your expectations?"

Steve was not just expecting but hoping that his wife would be deceptive or at least evasive. Unfortunately; the champaign compelled candor. "Yes. The black men that I dated measured up to my expectations," she confessed defiantly." After a momentary pause she attempted to comfort her obviously shocked and distraught husband by assuring him, "only one of them was truly spectacular. Are you angry with me?"

"I'm not happy about it, but I guess that I have no right to be angry," Steve reluctantly assured his wife. "Our marriage councilor did warn us about the pitfalls of dating other people during our trial separation. However; we never committed to not dating other people and you never made a secret of the fact that you were dating other men. Since I didn't object at the time, I have no right to condemn you now."

Stella asked with unexpected sobriety, "why didn't you object?"

"I guess I was feeling guilty. I was feeling guilty about the complacency that had become so frustrating for you that you demanded a trial separation. I was also feeling guilty because I knew that while you had insisted on remaining a virgin until our wedding night, I had allowed myself to sow my wild oats while I was in college. It would have been hypocritical of me to object to you satisfying your curiosity about other men while we were separated. I guess that I was hoping that you would be willing to reconcile once you had an opportunity to sow your wild oats as I had."

Steve was grateful when Stella suggested that they take a break from dancing. He was pleased when she sought out the fruit punch rather than the champaign. She was already more than just a little drunk. However; it was evident from the first sip that someone had spiked the punch bowl, probably with vodka.

Stella was on her second cup of punch when Steve suggested that it was no longer to early for them to leave the reception without being rude. He allowed his hand to massage her butt before discretely drifting up her torso to gently caress the side of one of her big breasts so as to reveal his intentions. He was pleased when she merely giggled coquettishly rather than fend off his wandering hand. Her libido had waned during the months since the miscarriage. He had become frustrated and fearful that the renaissance of romance in their marriage that had been so unexpectedly inspired by their estrangement had came to an end.

Steve allowed his hand to cradle Stella's breast possessively as he led her to the elevators. She didn't object to the lack of decorum as she might have done before their estrangement. Once the were in the elevator, she eagerly sought his embrace. She made no protest as his hand sought the zipper of her gown. When the elevator arrived at their floor, she seemed to be unconcerned that the bodice was falling to reveal her lacy, blue lingerie.

The bodice of Stella's dress was around her waist by the time they got to their room. She made no effort to conceal herself as Steve fumbled with the key card. Once the door opened, Stella quickly stepped into their suite then pushed her gown down over her wide hips to stand nearly naked before her husband. Possessive pride compelled him to linger before finally closing the door.

Stella reclined supine on the bed as she pulled her husband to her. Gentle but unrelenting pressure on his shoulders guided his generous mouth to her needy sex. Stella had always cherished Steve's ability to pleasure her with his lips and tongue, but she had never been so assertive until their trial separation. The almost taboo pleasure of allowing her then estranged husband to occasionally seduce her during the long months of their estrangement had emboldened her.

They jealousies and anxieties that had been revived during the wedding reception inspired Steve to be even more generous than usual. Only after he had brought his wife to repeated orgasms did he shift positions to mate with her.

Stella giggled as her hand reached down to fend off Steve's penis. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"I forgot to pack condoms," Steve confessed.

"Did you really forget or did you simply neglect to pack condoms so that you would have an excuse to go bareback?"

"Guilty as charged," Steve confessed. "You weren't reluctant to trust me during our estrangement," he almost pleaded.

"That was a crazy time, for both of us," Stella replied. "Trusting you to restrain yourself allowed me to rationalize that I wasn't intending to seduce you. I guess that I could trust you again, but you have to be extra careful. I don't want to risk getting pregnant again so soon after my miscarriage."

Steve eagerly guided his penis to Stella's welcoming vagina. After giving birth to three babies, her sex offered little resistance to penetration. He had often thought that her sex had become even more welcoming during the months of their estrangement. The fact that her husband had ceased to be the only man with whom she had been fully intimate with had obviously liberated her from her lingering inhibitions. He was occasionally plagued by the conviction that she was able to welcome his penis so eagerly because she had experienced men who were better endowed.

As Steve began to thrust eagerly, Stella whispered to him, "relax. Enjoy yourself, but be careful. I'm in the middle of my cycle."

While Steve was grateful to be liberated from the need to be considerate, the implicit message that he would once again fail to bring his wife to climax with his penis was humiliating. His batting average had never been impressive, but it had become even worse during the months of their estrangement. His fear that his spouse would never again be content with him again had inspired a sense of relief when she finally confessed that she was pregnant. His offer of reconciliation had obviously been the honorable and sensible thing for him to do, but his fear that his wife might want to remain liberated from their marriage had inspired an amazing eagerness.

Steve was still hoping that he might somehow succeed in bringing his wife to another climax when an image of her freak dancing with the best man intruded into his thoughts. He was suddenly overwhelmed with jealousy and anxiety. The questions that had plagued him so often asserted themselves yet again. His humiliation was exasperated by the sensation of his sudden, unrestrained ejaculation. He was barely able to withdraw in time to squirt the first spurt of semen into Stella's pubic hair. Although Steve normally would have been careful to spill his seed safely on her belly, Steve allowed himself the guilty pleasure of soaking the entrance of her sex with his sperm.

The knee that chastised Steve's groin was ungentle, but it was not as punishing as it might have been during the early years of their marriage. He was able to apologize as he rolled off of his mildly irate wife. "Sorry, I guess I got a bit anxious thinking about you dancing with the best man."

Stella bent down to kiss her husband gently as she apologized, "I guess I shouldn't be angry. Most men aren't as careful as you usually are." She then arose from the bed and retreated to the bathroom. The sound of running water confirmed that she was rinsing her husband's semen from her pubic hair in an effort to prevent his sperm from reaching her womb.

The pain in Steve's genitals had abated by the time that Stella returned to him. As his wife cuddled up to him apologetically, he asked the one question that had been plaguing him in recent months. "What would you have done if you hadn't miscarried?"

"What do you mean? I would have had the baby," Stella answered.

"I know that you would have had the baby. I knew that when I suggested that we reconcile," Steve said. "I was just wondering if or when you would have confessed that you had been dating black men as well as white men while we were estranged."

Stella pulled away from her husband to sit up in bed. "What would you have done if I hadn't miscarried? Would you have been willing to remain reconciled or would you have wanted to go ahead with a divorce."

"I don't know," Steve confessed as he too sat up to lean against the headboard. "You had made no secret of the fact that you were dating other men. When you confessed that you were pregnant, I wasn't so naive as to presume that I was the father. I knew that since you were insisting that I be careful whenever you allowed me to seduce you, it was unlikely that I had sired your baby. I guess I was hoping that the baby would at least look enough like me that no one would know that it wasn't mine. I clung to that forlorn hope even though I had heard rumors that some of the men that you were dating were black."

"What would you have done if I had given birth to a black baby? Would you have divorced me or would you have stood by me?"

"I honestly don't know," Steve stammered. "We had been separated at the time that you got pregnant and you had made no secret of the fact that you were dating other men, so it would have been unfair to accuse you of adultery. Most of our family and friends were aware that you had been dating other men during our estrangement, so we would not have had to explain it to them."

Stella hugged then kissed her husband. "I was almost relieved when I miscarried. I was afraid that my giving birth to a baby that we both knew might not be yours would have been more than you could accept. Now that I know that you would have stood by me, I regret loosing the baby even more."