Chris was upstairs on the second floor looking, scanning the crowd. The dance floor had become cramped with patrons, making it even harder to spot his wife.  It wasn't until one of the clubs lights flashed across a dark corner of the dance floor he spotted her.  Well the dress was recognizable.  He had a hard time capturing her face from this vantage point due to the taller guy who, if he wasn't mistaken, was talking to her over her shoulder it looked like.<em>Wait, What in the World?!?</em>He wasn't, talking so much as he was dancing with her. As she flung her hair back, and turned 180, he saw her face.<em>There she is!! Finally!....Wow..Get the F Outta....Is she really..GRINDING on that Guy?</em>His jaw hit the floor is disbelief.  Not only grinding, but she was initiating the close proximity, throwing her perfectly round ass against his thighs, and enjoying every moment of it.  Chris set down his now empty glass, but still carrying the drink he bought for Nikki, and made a beeline for the stairs. His heart raced, butterflies in his stomach, and a strange throbbing and swelling in his member as he hurried down the two sets of stairs to the dance floor, where he was met with trying to plan the best route to the far end of the dance floor through the sea of people. He opted to take the long route, hugging the wall to avoid having to squeeze through the bodies, all while carrying a drink and trying not to spill it.