Experimentation in Dance

We were getting serious. After all, he asked me to attend his friends’ wedding with him and I knew exactly how much of a grouch he is in the morning. Those were signs that a relationship is moving another step, right? Anyway, it was a heartfelt ceremony and the wedding was beautifully arranged. Through the evening, I started picturing myself in a bride’s role. What would I look like in a dress like that? How kind of flowers would I want? Who would be my bridesmaids? A woman really does say “yes” to the rock and the dress. When the dancing starts, some woman he introduced me earlier, came over and asked to “borrow” him for the dance floor. That it has been “years” since he danced with her and he “must” give her a few minutes. I could not dance and did not enjoy it. As a result, I never suggested much dancing. What I witnessed on that dance floor changed all that. And I discovered there was a different man hidden behind the bow ties and cufflinks.

I did not know that man on the dance floor. He and the woman had the entire party transfixed with their salsa dancing. The two of them started swaying their hips in perfect unison. Stepping light and quick one minute, slow and sensuous the next. A dramatic thrust of an arm here and a proud flick of hair and head there. I watched the sauciness of the woman coming on to my guy; who is this stranger, this stud flirting right back with her? They continued with a lot of body rolling, shimmying shoulders, and gyrating close to each other. I watched the two of them flirt and practically fuck each other on the floor while everyone looked on. The rest of the evening was a whirlwind and the sexiest stud at the wedding drove me home. We were quiet during the drive, but we can hear our heart beats racing and pounding. I was acutely shy and awkward, but hot and excited, lust building, like I was about to have a steamy one-night stand. He held my hand between leaving the car and the walk to my door. Once we were inside, I started tearing his clothes off. Right there, within a yard of the door, on the foyer rug, we bucked against each other, his electricity and my lust. We both lifted our hips until we connected. This other side of him, this almost other man, rocked and dived into me. My mouth was all over his body, licking up his sweat; I could not get enough of his new taste.

He was gone the next morning when I woke up with the conflicted emotions in the aftermath of the intense, perhaps fleeting encounter. It was a few days before we talked and saw each other again. We became newly uncomfortable with each other. Me, because he became unfamiliar. Him, because he unveiled a part of himself. But I wanted more of this sensual side of him and encouraged him to take me dancing. Every time he did, I got to sample yet another flavor, another tang of him. And I felt more and more inadequate despite his reassurance that I had other talents he loved. I simply did not have the agility or the rhythm he had. I was not an overachiever for nothing. I did some research and decided to learn belly dancing, the movements for which are largely in isolation. I proceeded with six months of clandestine lessons on simple foot patterns and basic rhythm, then adequately “mastering” the languid and lyrical movements of hips, arms, and I guess, the rest of my body.

I planned a private celebration for his birthday to include revealing my dancing secrets. I lit up my place with candles and got a huge pillow the size of a full bed for proper sultan level seating for the birthday boy. I even managed to bribe a fellow dance classmate for a joint performance. I needed the moral support and she danced so fluidly. There we were, two veiled but scantily clad belly dancers, pulling our astonished birthday boy by his arms, removing his jacket and tie, and leading him to his front stage seat. With the help of my friend, we gave a mesmerizingly seductive performance. I was sure he adjusted his pants a few times with the two of us moving our hips and breasts hypnotically and spinning the sultry veils. The two of us finished and collapsed onto the big pillow, chuckling, giving the birthday boy a kiss.

He turned to me then, his voice low and almost dizzy with lust, “GOD, honey, WOW. I …. just can’t believe you can dance like that, and did this for me.” He gave me a kiss so hard and deep, I tingled all the way down to my toes. Minutes later and before I could thank my pal, he turned around and thanked her with his tongue down her mouth, agape with surprise. My eyes flew to hers and hers to mine in utter shock. She must have decided in those couple of seconds that this was insanely hot. I watched her urgently kiss him back. I watched them kiss, the heat intensifying between them and between my legs. I remember the raw lust rise from within me and hooked one of my legs around his, while the rest of me slithered up to reclaim his mouth. My move left the rest of him open and my lovely partner synced up with me and shimmied up onto him, and we both started creating wavelike movements against his body. I thought we got him quivering and he moved his head and mouth from me to her to me to her to me. She took the lead then, angled her hips to align with his erection, making circular and rolling motions on his cock. She teased him for quite some time before making way for me, for my pelvis to connect with him, for me to undulate, rock against him. I built up to vigorous vibrations on his pulsing cock. The only things that existed were lust and concupiscence pulling the three of us together. Her mouth, his mouth, my mouth, locked and kissing. Her body, his body, my body, our joint carnal souls intertwined and dancing.