[Erotica] I Don’t Dance

‘I don’t dance!’

She raises an eyebrow in my direction before glancing around at the ballroom, clearly question why I was at an event that involved dancing, if I didn’t dance.

‘I’m here for a friend, he’s got the hots for one of the organisers.’

She holds out her hand and I take in every inch of her. She’s oozing a level of sex appeal that I can never resist; tall, muscular, short cropped hair, tits nestled under a crisp white shirt, her suit clutching at her curves in a way I am eager to mimic. My cunt clenches as I place my hand in hers, just as the music changes and I panic that I can’t live up to all the sexiness that this opportunity is promising.

‘I … I don’t … I mean I don’t know how.’

It was true, I’d never taken a single dance class in my life. Everyone in the room seemed to know a few moves at a bare minimum and my experience lay in getting drunk and flinging myself around in a manner that was far from rhythmic and certainly not refined.

‘Lucky for you I do know how, but let’s be honest it’s not about getting the move right, it’s about enjoying the moment.’

With that she pulled my body close to hers and our moment began.

She moved as if she was the music, it flowed through her and as her body moved mine followed. My hips rolled with hers, her hands on my body were not only guiding but giving, oh yes, they were giving. Instruction, support, reassurance all of these things she gave to me as the music bound us together. There was more though, breathless, heady desire was bubbling inside me, she was giving me a body that throbbed and thrummed.

‘You’re doing very well for someone who doesn’t dance.’

‘Mmmm … yeah … I …’

She giggled against my ear at my response, christ I wanted to fuck her. A feeling that did not dissipate as she expertley tipped me backwards, my back arching as my long hair brushed against the floor before her hips rolled me back into a standing position and as if it were the most natural way to finish a dance her lips met mine.

‘I’m wondering if you ‘don’t fuck’ as well as you ‘don’t dance’ One more dance, or maybe two, then we can leave so I can find out.’

As I open my mouth to reply, her lips recapture mine and she embodies the music once more and if it were possible I melt further into her, the exquisite arousal she has created pulsing within me to the beat of the music and I dance, because I can. Because she can.

Inspired by Friday Flash No.45
and Wicked Wednesday #355

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