Mambo

Jen put her hands on my hips, pushing the hips with each step.

"There, that's where you're having problems." She grinned at me. "Watch."

In front of me she did the step, my eyes following her feet, and hips as they moved back from me. I stepped towards her, mimicking her foot movements so that my right hip thrust out on the last step. A huge smile flashed on her face.

"That was it, wasn't it?"

Her eyebrows shot up as she grinned at me, dimples deep and true. Her hands came back to my hips as I slowly sank down, gyrating with each movement. Jen's head went back to laugh. Keeping one hand on me, I spun around, taking stock in the guys that were watching us play on the dance floor.

Yes, we had every covert eye within a one mile radius watching the two of us. Jen, tiny chest, and very curvy hips, me large chest, and slender legs. Total opposites, dancing, flirting, practicing. Jen, a tight t-shirt, and jeans that flowed over those gorgeous round hips, me well fitted halter dress with billowing skirt, giving the impression that maybe my hips were just as curvy as Jen's. Yes, every male eye in the room was on the two of us.

I shimmied up to her, putting my head on her neck so I could whisper in her ear. Her hands staid on my hips as we rocked as a pair. "How many guys are watching?"

"All of them!" she laughed back.

"Are we scaring them?"

"I see one that's not scared!" Jen grabbed my hand to spin me around. "He's behind you, nice chest in a blue shirt!" My skirt flared out around me, my eyes searching out the crowd.

Sure enough, he looked straight into my eyes as I found him, his lips curved slightly.

"Is he still watching?" I asked coming back to Jen's arms.

"Yeah!"

"Let's give him a show!"

"Sure thing girlfriend, follow my lead!" She stepped a foot between my legs, her hands still on my hips as she gyrated down, and up again. Spinning, waving, we undulated on the floor, Jen directing my movements, I followed. Each time she spun me out I let my eyes glance on the guy. He was captivated, totally entranced, and not trying to pretend he wasn't interested.

As the music ended we sauntered off to the water.

I felt something on my back, and spun around on my heel. I found myself in the arms of the man we had been flirting with. He held me close to him.

"Dance," the one word was a command. I looked into the eyes of a self-assured man.

He backed up, pulling me after him on to the floor. The Latin number was familiar, something I had heard before. With obvious experience, he placed one hand on my back, holding my other hand loosely. He stepped with finesse to the beat.

Momentarily my feet were lost, as my mind tried to figure out what was going on. He looked me in the eyes, smiling slightly. He grinned as my feet tripped over each other. Obviously, not as self-assured when I was doing the flirting. I felt flushed, embarrassed. He looked so confident it made my embarrassment so complete. Here I had been flirting with him in an area where his knowledge far exceeded mine.

"Look at me."

I glanced up at him, and he met my eyes. I took a large breath, trying to still myself. I heard the air shudder as it moved thru me. His eyes danced with pleasure, and control.

"Good girl!" he smiled, a wave of pleasure washing thru my body.

Suddenly it dawned on me that my feet had found the rhythm. As I had held his gaze, and quit worrying over my feet, I had suddenly found the ability to follow him. My eyes opened a bit wider realizing what had happened.

"You ready to really dance, now?"

I nodded.

"I'll put you where I need you, all you need to do is follow. Don't fight me, 'kay?" I looked deep in his eyes, trusting him. I knew he could do it.

I don't quite know what followed. He spun me around, hands on my hips, transferring to my back. In his arms, under his instructions, I felt like a sexy flamenco dancer straight from South America. My dress spun out to emphasize the turns. His eyes sparkled with pleasure. And I felt myself elated knowing that I had pleased him.

Holding me close, he pulled me straight to his hips. Taking a moment, he ground against me. I drew a deep breath, both scared at the turn this was taking, and terribly turned on by his presumption. He stepped a foot between my legs, bringing my pelvis to rest against his leg. I could hardly look at him, so embarrassed by the erotic nature our vertical positions now mimicked.

His hands on my hips, he spun me back away from him. I was shocked to feel my hips move in an erotic sway. After the momentary embarrassment, after this man dancing closer, and harder than I ever wanted, some how my body wanted to do more to turn him on. It scared me the waves of pleasure mixing with embarrassment and shame that flooded thru me.

Some how we made it thru the whole dance without anyone coming over to ask what in the world we were doing. Maybe I was the only one who knew exactly what was going on.

As the music ended, he spun me away from him. I drew a shuddering breath, my whole body trembling from the experience. Without looking back I walked off the dance floor to my friends.

Jen smiled at me, giving me a thumbs up. I slouched into a chair, stunned at what had just happened. His response to me was scary, and so erotic. Jen and I had flirted, and he had taken me up on the offer. His control of the dance had been total. His authority and knowledge were stunning. Obviously he knew how to dance, trained by someone, not the moves simply learned on the floor like me. I felt embarrassed that I had shown my own lack of dance knowledge. And yet . . . yet

I'm not sure exactly what I was thinking. Or if I was thinking. I stood up, my heels clicking with authority as I walked back on the dance floor. I walked to the center, and spun around looking for him.

My eyes found him. Raising my chin, I beckoned with a finger. My face was a study in restraint, lips slightly pursed as I held his eyes. He walked back on the floor, obviously deferring to me.

As he walked out, I twisted my hips down. Rolling, and twisting, I bent my knees, going lower to floor, spreading my knees and opening myself to the floor. I maintained eye contact, daring him to look away. As I came back up, I ran my hands over my sides, running my hands under my neck to pull my hair up. Standing straight up, my neck exposed, I let my hips twist quickly.

He came to stand next to me, placing his hands around me. I shot him a quick look, daring him, questioning his presumption, and his hands fell away. Instead he simply stood in my personal space.

Watching his nervous reaction I placed my hands on his shoulders, running my hands down his arms. Twisting, rolling, and letting my body move in its natural curving way, I bent my knees and went down the length of his body. He stood still, trying not to move, his eyes following me the whole way down. As I came up, I let my eyes roam over him. Yes, his jeans were bulging there. I felt up his chest, enjoying his reaction. I could see him take a large breath, trying to steady himself. His eyes fluttered in the effort.

And then my hands moved to the standard grasp. He fought to control himself, raising his hands to meet mine.

"Dance with me." I demanded

His eyes flickered open. He could hardly look at me as he led me thru the steps of this new dance. His feet knew what they were doing, even if his face was a study in submission. His body led, his arms pushed, his hands directed. And yet his eyes sought mine for approval, looking for a slight nod each time he spun me out from his warm embrace.

"Make me look good," I hissed in his ear as I came back close against him. Closing his eyes, he let out a few quivering breathes. "Open your eyes!" They snapped open, and he engaged his brain again to follow my commands. And suddenly we are spinning over the dance floor, in a swaying blur of fine movements. His hands helping create the wonderful vision that I was a fantastic dancer.

"Pull me up against your hips, like you did last time," I growled. His eyes snapped open wide, and he sucked in some air. A small nod, and he pulled me into him. His hands holding my ass, simply holding me in position, not taking liberties to explore.

I stepped one foot between his legs, pushing his knee out of the way. His eyes startled back to my face. I watched him bite his lip as I brought my pelvis to his leg. He closed his eyes as his mouth came open. His hands continued their prescribed traveling, staying only to the road they must follow.

And again, the dance ended. Flushed with power, I strutted off the floor to Jen's big smile. I sat down with her, not looking at the floor. "He's still standing there," she whispered in my ear. "That was HOT!"

I grinned, and enjoy the waves of power and erotic pleasure that washed over me. I remember his face, his face when he was commanding, demanding and taking control, how his face changed when I told him what to do. The opening of the eyes, the small flashes of they eyebrows, how his breathing changed.

And suddenly it became too real, or unreal. I don't know which. Man alive, the erotic rush I felt as he, this unknown, unnamed man did a vertical mambo with me that made me wetter than most men when they kissed me. When he totally took control, putting me where he liked, almost embarrassing me with the straightforward, obvious nature of his dancing. Shaming me, and at the same time exciting me in that shame. I felt a wash of disbelief when I replayed my own actions, my wanton desire as I insisted that he dance with me again. The reactions that played across his face left me hungry to demand more of him. His fluttering eyes spoke volumes of the pleasure he felt listening to my demands.

I buried my head on the table, not quite sure how I felt. Vulnerable was the word that finally came to mind. Everything on that dance floor had been so very blatant. My desire for him had come in all its obvious forms. Would he return it? Was he simply a good dance partner?

I avoided him for the next few dance numbers, sitting some out, others dancing with friends. I had no answers. I felt scared.

I saw him go out to the bathrooms, and I found myself going after him. The halls were empty when I reached them so I hung around the drinking fountain waiting for him to come out. Sure enough he did.

When he did, I could see he was as shaken as I was. He didn't know if he should smile, nod, hold me close, say something, or walk on by. We each stood still, simply looking at each other. He opened his mouth, closing it again. The moment was going to escape us if we didn't change something.

"I'd . . ." I broke the silence, words coming out before I knew what to say. "My name is Cari." I struck out my hand.

"I'm Doug," He gave me a firm handshake, which seemed so weird after grinding my pelvis against his leg.

We stood again in awkward silence. I wondered if he knew the vulnerability I felt. I wondered if he knew how excited he had made me. I didn't want to risk anything. "You're a really good dancer," I finally said since it looked like the conversation was falling on its butt.

"So are you and your friend." He countered with a smile.

"Jen? Yeah, we have fun."

We talked for a few more minutes, and finally I told him to call me some time. He programmed my number into his cell phone, and promised he would.

I walked back into the dance thinking I'd never hear from him again. Scared another one off. Chalk it up, Cari scares the guys off. They can't handle me. But at least I gave it a chance. If he wants to get in touch with me, now he has a way.

I put the music on, easy rock as I drove home. My high heels were kicked off, on the seat next to me. As I pulled out of parking lot I rummaged in my purse for my cell phone. Normally a call or two missed in the loud music of the dance. Yep! A couple of text message, and one phone call.

Keeping an eye on the road, I skimmed the text messages. Just a girlfriend, tomorrow I could return her message. I punched the phone to bring up the voicemail, turning onto the dark street to wind my way home. I rotated my back into the seat, relaxing. My legs were going to hurt tomorrow.

"Cari," came a male voice. Ummmm . . guys! Love them! Wish I could find one that didn't scare off! "This is Doug, I met you tonight at the dance." OMG! He called me! "I really enjoyed getting to know you, and hope you'll call me some time. Well, actually any time." He let out a low laugh that rumbled thru my belly in a very delightful way.

As I drove thru the darkness, I pulled up the number and called him back.

I sat nervous in the car next to Doug as he drove me home. Talking nearly every evening for the past week, some chemistry had truly developed. Neither one of us talked about the dancing. Instead we spoke about work, dreams, childhood, food, and all the mundane things your supposed to talk about. A few times I thought I caught innuendos. And I returned them in kind. But I could never be sure.

After a nice dinner out, Doug was being quite the gentleman, driving me home. The whole evening I saw his eyes occasionally stray to my cleavage, but then he would pull them back in. He did walk hand in hand with me, and slip his arm around me waist to steady me. But where was tight throbbing embrace like on the dance floor?

A part of me felt disappointed, another part felt relieved that things had gone back in the safe zone. The sexual energy that had existed between the two of us was magnetic. The memory of those two dances had haunted me all week. My own conflicted emotions played tennis in my head. One moment I felt like a sweet honey limp rag doll as Doug took full control, the next minute I felt like a blazing fire of pleasure ordering him around, watching him accept my commands. Well, not fully accept, there was a part of him that he had to fight with to allow me to command him.

His hand rested on my knee as he drove one handed thru the dark freeways to get me home. His hooded eyes glanced at me every so often, and I tried to keep my side of the conversation going. But I was getting tired, and the open eyed glances, his warm hand thru my skirt, it was affecting me. I shifted in my seat, moving my feet around in my heels.

As I did so, Doug pushed back the edge of my skirt, letting his fingers come to rest on my flesh. My head spun to look at him, startled by the touch. He kept on talking, letting the conversation continue. His smile had a decided sensuality to it as he watched me. I looked down at his hand on my leg, and looked up at him. His eyes danced in the darkness, smiling at my confusion.

As we pulled up to a stop light he leaned across the car, a hand wrapping around my neck, pulling me in to kiss him. I couldn't move. He smiled at my stunned reaction. His hand moving further down my leg as he kissed me, caressing, finger tips moving over the skin.

"You like this?" He asked, glancing at his fingers, my skirt hiked up. I let out a long breath that hiccupped. I felt like a high school teenager again. Blown away by the slightest touch, jumpy and tense, unsure of where it was going. His hand roamed my leg as I let out little gasps of surprised pleasure.

We pulled into my parking lot, and he parked the car. With no words he came over to open my door. I stood up, collecting myself so I could walk inside. Already I was realizing he was coming in. He didn't try to pretend to say his good-byes in the car. He had made his choice, and I had no say in the matter.

He walked politely beside me, saying nothing, asking nothing. I fumbled with purse, finding my cell phone instead of my keys. My brain was focused on the skin on my leg that now burned from his touch. The skin further up my thigh that had only been brushed that longed for more contact.

"Take a deep breath," he whispered in my ear. I hadn't realized where he was standing behind me. My body straightened to make contact with him. My shoulders connected, coming to rest on his chest. "You need to find the keys." He laughed in my ear, returning my focus to the job at hand. "Unless you'd like me to fuck you out here where the neighbors can watch."

Fuck? I drew a sharp intake. Sex? This had been a date, not a . . . well, I don't know, but I'm not that kind of girl! I don't go picking up random guys and . . .

My body begged to disagree with me. My palms and so many other areas of my body had suddenly become wet. My pussy burned warm, demanding. And a small itch, a swollen sensation lit thru my nipples.

"Get the keys," he demanded behind me. And I knew there was no arguing with him. I steadied myself and reached into my purse again, drawing the keys out.

I walked in, trying to bring a bit more control to myself, to try and stop this inevitable march to my bedroom that had begun. I walked away from him, leaving him to come thru the door on his own. I put my keys in their basket, my purse in its place, and turned to look at him. He stood at the door, watching my nervous actions. He was quite comfortable, and not the bit disarmed at being in an unfamiliar place. I flipped on a light, and he blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness. But he stood his ground, standing at the door, waiting for me to come back to him. Waiting for me to do what my body was begging me to do, put his skin back on mine. He smiled, quite aware of himself, enjoying my own nervous tension, on my own home turf.

Finally my body could stand it no more, and I stepped towards him. He wrapped arms around me, and kissed me once again. Technique, I can't remember. What his tongue did, how it danced in my mouth, where it touched, it all didn't matter. He probed me, and I opened for him. He placed his hands on my ass, pulling me towards him, and I came. Mouths locked, his hands exploring my ass, my knees felt weak.

He pushed me up against the door, pulling my skirt up to my hips. I looked in fright at him.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you." He pulled back so I could see his face. Smiling he looked at me. I rested my head against the back of the door. Yes, this was the man I knew. Yes, this was the man who pulled me onto the dance floor. Yes, he wouldn't hurt me. I nodded to myself. He bent down to kiss me again, his hands moving over my thighs, his hands owning my ass.

Thank goodness for a hard door because it was on that strength that I remained standing. I felt myself wobble a few times on my heels, so I finally kicked them free of my feet. They landed some godforsaken place in my house, but at that moment I didn't care. All I knew was Doug's hands on my body, calling, demanding me, and the way my body turned to putty beneath him, the way I moved to meet his will.

"Bedroom." He said. I came up for air, not comprehending the statement, and then it clicked. Where was my bedroom?

In bare feet I padded down the hallway. His low rumbling laugh followed me. I turned on the light, opening my private retreat to him. He came in, glancing around at the art on the wall, and then went to sit on the bed.

"Undress for me."

I turned to look at him, not sure if I'd heard him right. He cocked an eyebrow, daring me to say otherwise. Still standing at the door to my own bedroom, I had a decision to make.

I strode to the center of my room, looking him full in the eyes. Spreading my legs slightly, and I ran my hands down my body, caressing my own curves, and then came back up. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation, and opened them to his eyes on me. He sat as still as I had been at the door. His full attention on me, hands grabbing the side of the bed.

Beginning with my shirt, I slowly unbuttoned it, easing the fabric off my shoulders. I let it fall behind me, watching as his eyes feasted on my breasts. I ran the palms of my hands over my fabric incased nipples, and saw him suck in air for half a second. I tucked my thumbs into the waistband of my skirt, finding the side zipper. I let my hips rotate back and forth as I unzipped. I kicked the skirt towards him, coming to land at his feet. He blinked, looking at the fabric that had just been hugging my skin.