Yet another story inspired by a dancer. Probably the last one, as I have had a change in my life recently that may preclude returning to my place of inspiration. But I like this better, hehe.
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Sitting here, I am amazed at just how beautiful you are. You dance like a dream. I haven't gone up to let you know I am here and I am a few minutes early. I suppose that it's kind of like cheating; coming here to see you half naked before taking you out. Not the first time we have gone out, but the first time I have met you here to do so. And I hope to be seeing you in great detail later tonight. But first we have to get out of here. You are delayed for a few minutes by some guy in the VIP section so I pass the time with one of the other girls. As you leave his table I get up as well, paying the dancer and making my way over.
"Hey! I didn't see you come in. Give me a few minutes."
"Sure. We need to go by your house?"
"Yeah. Unless you want me to be all hot and sweaty?"
Having gotten to know my strange sense of humor you laugh as I just shrug.
"I'll be quick as I can. How much time do we have?"
"It's bowling tonight remember. Now we will see who has true claim to the title 'World's Worst Bowler'."
"Oh, it's definitely me, " you reply gravely.
"I don't think so."
"We'll see. I'll be out in a few."
True to your word a few minutes later you return in street clothes and I follow you to your car and get in. Your house is a short distance away, giving us little time to talk, even if I could. Inside the house it appears that you and your roommates still have some unpacking to do, with boxes strewn about liberally.
"Sorry about the mess. Just clear a spot on the couch. The cable's hooked up thankfully." A quick peck and you are off, leaving me with the tingling imprint of your faint lipstick. I just sit calmly and wait, absently turning on the tv. Instead I occupy myself analyzing what might happen tonight. It doesn't help the butterflies that are flitting about in my stomach everytime I take you out. I imagine all the horrible things that could go wrong- saying the wrong thing and looking like an ass, making a move too soon, not making one soon enough. The dreaded- 'Let's just be friends' speech. Mistaking something for more than it is. But even among the hundreds of ways it could go wrong, there are still a few positive things I can think of. And they are the reason I sit here and wait it out. It's worth the wait.
You are stunning. Just enough makeup to accentuate your already devastating good looks. A stretchy black blouse tucked into tight blue jeans. Practical enough for you to be kicking my butt at bowling. Low heeled sandals complete the picture, casual and comfortable. As I stare you tolerate it, striking a few poses.
"Wow."
You chuckle slightly and walk on-"Come on, I'm driving."
I like Westgate Lanes. I've been here a few times and I am comfortable. Though that in no way seems to confer any bowling ability. My best friend bought his own ball here. He stomps me regularly. As I am sure that you will do.
I, of course, manage to slip and fall on my ass in the first game. I do that a lot. Reflecting my bruised ego my score is a low 80, with yours' a slightly better 95. Boy do we suck. I don't know if it was an accident or you just trying to make me feel better, but you fell as well in the second game and I couldn't help but laugh. You just laughed with me and got up with as much dignity as possible.
The second game I switched to my left hand, figuring that I couldn't do much worse with my off hand. I was right- I got a 110 and you stayed at 90.
You point at the board- "I told you I was the worst bowler ever."
"There is still one more game to play, we'll see."
I don't know how but I always seem to do better on the third game, even with a tired arm. Maybe because it's tired- I don't try so hard. But you step it up as well, matching two of my strikes with two of your own then a third to put yourself ahead. You beat me by thirty, not alot, but enough.
"See I told you, I really suck."
"Well, I think I just got lucky. You'll probably win next time."
"Maybe we should try pool. Are you any good at that?"
You shake your head as we walk to the counter to return out shoes.
"Me neither. I have a problem judging how hard to hit the ball."
"You know, this isn't at all manly; are there any sports you are good at?"
I put on the 'serious contemplation' face as we walk to your car. As we get in I answer-"Define 'sport'."
You smack on my shoulder is enough of an answer as I shrug and grin unashamedly.
It's nervous time again, that scary in-between place where I don't know what is going to happen next. A few quick glances between us; shy smiles. Then you appear to relax and my stomach tightens as you turn to me and say-
"You are coming to my house."
It is difficult to form words as the blood drains from my head, but I manage a simple- "Ok."
Then you return your attention to driving, a smile on your face. Thankfully I recover before we reach your house, allowing me some time to think. Remember what you have learned, but listen to what she is saying. Do everything S L O W L Y . Don't forget the-
As my feet stall in your doorway you notice my expression and take a guess- "I have condoms silly."
I can feel my ears burning. Then the calm comes. Just like the first time. I wasn't nervous, once I knew where things were going. I had visualized that so many times that it all felt so natural. It didn't happen exactly the way I imagined, but it was still good. And with you, well, my imagination has been working pretty hard for many nights. All that studying, time for the final. You dispel the final bit of nervousness with a light kiss on my lips and I return it. Then another, this time encircling you in my arms. You feel so good there. Soft and warm. And right now, hot.
Your tongue ventures out to my lips and I open them, allowing you inside my mouth where I wait for you. My hands are all over you as we stumble towards your room. On your neck and in your hair, roaming the delicate expanse of your back. We have to break apart for a moment as your open the door but upon entering I feel drawn to you like a magnet to an iron bar. Your hands stop me and we step apart. You smile and glance into my eyes, then move your hands to the bottom of your blouse. As you pull it over your head I help you, pleased to discover that you are not wearing a bra. Not in a rush I move to kiss you again, my hands eager to touch this nearly uncovered skin. They travel slowly up from your hips, like water along each crease and edge, but up instead of down. Climbing up each rib, then around your back. Up your spine, following it up to your shoulders, your shoulder blades. Strong and supple, they seem like wings ready to take you paradise. Around to your front again, where my lips can follow my fingers over your collarbones to your graceful neck.
Your hands are busy as well, your nails raising goosebumps under my shirt and the back of my neck. Occasionally they tug at the bottom of my shirt, but only half-heatedly. I think you know that I want to please you first, to explore your body. Find out what turns you on and so you allow me to do what I please, confident that you will be able to return the favor.
Now my interests turn to your chest, trailing between your breasts. They are beautiful, worthy of poems, swelling with arousal and your rising breath. Nipples are already hard, eager to be touched and teased. But I only brush over them briefly. Instead my hands follow the valley between them, down to your flat stomach. I can almost hear the pout on your lips but I continue on. On my knees now, your fingers run through my hair as I impart soft kisses here. God that feels good. You can feel my smile on the flat board of your stomach as you send chills through me. My tongue in your belly button causes you to squirm in return. Soon my fingers are busy undoing the button of your jeans and I can feel your tense anticipation. But I leave them on, instead quickly coming back up to eye level to kiss you again, wrap you up in my arms and lean you slowly back to the bed.
"Beautiful," I mutter as I lean above you on one arm. The other rest on you hip as I lean in to whisper in your ear. I want to know if I can get you to gasp as I speak to you. Time to show a little boldness where none exists. I want to know if I can make your heart race just by talking, telling you what I am going to do to you in detail.
"I just a little bit I am going to take a trip over your beautiful features. Caress your lips with mine, kiss slowly down to your breasts, as my hands caress every available inch of you. Then I will-"
You surprise me, your hand finding mine on your hip and moving it to your left breast, then kneading it. "Stop teasing me and just do it. I know you want me and I want you. You've been quite explicit before now, so just do it. Please."
Never one to deny an impassioned plea I comply. Straddling your legs as my mouth fastens itself to your hard nipples, my fingers steadily work the zipper of your jeans down. Luckily you have already kicked off you shoes so I have no trouble pulling you jeans off. Peeling them from your waist and over your upraised legs to reveal your blue lace panties. I love your legs. Long and thin, but not too much so. I hug them to me, kissing the back of your heels, then your calves. And, of course, the back of your thighs and knees.
I know that your are ticklish here but I only take advantage for a few seconds. It takes only a suggestion for your to turn over, revealing what both you and I consider one of your best physical assets. Your ass. I think that it's just right. Not too bony or thin but not to big either. Just enough to give it an eye-catching wiggle. You sigh as I tell you this and I move on to the small of your back. I brush wet lips on it, then blow gently, giving you a shiver. My hands stroke languidly up, caressing each side as my lips press into the valley formed by the strong muscles there. Coming up your ribs my fingers tease your breasts on each side, sneaking underneath to brush your nipples.