After four dances, Adam suggested to Kelly it was time to take a break. It was well into the night and with three fast jives and a samba, he was knackered; especially as Kelly was such a livewire dancer.
Actually, as they walked back to the table, Adam reflected she was a livewire in more than just dancing. In bed she was a complete maniac.
She'd had him over for some friends with benefits sex earlier in the week and she'd ridden him so hard cowgirl he still had the bruises on his hips and a strained base of his cock from the workout. Busty and full figured, her breasts were almost dangerous weapons when she went like that. An attempt to lift your head to them to suck a nipple could result in a near fatal blow.
Still, she was fun and easy to get along with. One of Adam's favourites among the group of women at the dance school who came to these weekly dances. But, without putting too fine a point on it, her Kardishian like figure wasn't really Adam's cup of tea. It wasn't likely to go beyond a friends with benefit relationship.
Resting for a moment, Adam sat at the table and indulged in what was his second favourite activity at these social dance Friday nights at the local RSL club; watching the girl in the red dress dance.
Actually it may have been his favourite activity. More so than the dancing itself.
He watched as her partner for the moment put her into an almost cruel succession of fast spin turns.
Her head expertly spotted on her partner as her body beautifully executed the turn, then her head quickly spun around and re-spotted on her dance partner. Her long, graceful legs showed an easy precision in stepping through the process of the turn. Her free arm arched confidently and sensuously through the air.
Her dancing wasn't stiff or even constrained by the sort of competition precision that studios can encourage. It was easy, free, unconstrained and very seductive.
But if the truth be told, it was far from just the elegance of her dancing that made watching her so enjoyable.
Both women and men made an effort to dress for these club nights of dancing, based around a live band playing music suited to the old styles of rock and roll, jive, rumba, waltz, foxtrot and the like. Men in chinos and collared shirts to match their black leather dance shoes, women in loose flick skirts or dresses and high heels. More Saturday Night Fever than country boot-scooters.
It was just that, on several levels, this girl in red took it to a higher level.
Her dress was a mini sheath dress, made, as far as Adam could tell from a distance, of what appeared to be a very light, unstructured spandex.
The halter neck top of the dress consisted of two not very large triangles that only half covered the orbs of her breasts held up by thin spaghetti straps that tied in a fragile bow around her neck. Below that the bodice of the dress had a deeply cut away at the back, with the front of it drawn tautly against her torso, from directly under her breasts down to her hips, by a crisscross of more spaghetti straps down her back.
But the piece de resistance was the skirt part of the dress. It flared widely from her hips. At rest, it draped down to barely hide her crotch, drawn sensuously into it by the static electricity charge in the material. As she spun through turns - as her dance partners seemed keen to make her do - it rose into a horizontal disc, fully exposing her panties and a delightful strip of her lower stomach above them.
The panties themselves were in a matching satin red; just a front and back triangle with spaghetti strap sides, low slung and drawn as tautly against her body as the rest of her outfit.
And she was stunningly beautiful.
Tall, slender bodied with lovely, perky, perfectly proportioned breasts - a nice full B cup as far as Adam could tell from his viewpoint. She had a face with a smile that lit up the room and long honey blonde hair that did its own sensuous arc through their air with each of her turns.
Just watching her dance was enough to arouse Adam; more so as he noted that centrifugal forces and those of momentum and inertia would cause her breasts to bulge in her spins and slightly lag the rest of her body in turns, letting them do a delightful dance of their own. And her panties were drawn tightly into and between her butt cheeks while he thought he could see at the front of her panties either a very delightful bulging mound or the bulge of some fairly dense pubic hair. He guessed he would never know which.
Not that she was always in red. On other nights she'd displayed a yellow spandex dress, sleeveless rather than halter necked, but with a deeply plunging cleavage line. It too flared from the hips to display a matching pair of yellow panties.
And finally there was the black dress. Ah, the mysterious back dress. He had dreams about that. A tightly fitting sheath dress, with no flare, it closely moulded to her absolutely gorgeous butt as much as it did to the rest of her figure. It had narrow shoulder straps and, as this woman clearly liked, a deep cleavage line. But what set the dress apart was the fact it had a two inch wide open split down both sides, held together with just six equally narrow straps down each side.
The bare flesh display down her sides raised the question of whether she could be wearing panties underneath as Adam couldn't see the straps that would surely be necessary to hold them up. A micro mini like the rest of her dresses, Adam had watched transfixed on the two nights he'd seen her wear it to see if the tight skirt would ride up just enough as she danced to answer the question. But they'd refused to budge, even as she wiggled her butt sexily through the most erection inducing rumba.
And yes, he was human enough to have tried to get an angle up between her legs as she sat at her table on the rare occasions she had a rest. But the darkness of the room, the crowd of people and the distance had defeated him.
In the three months these weekly dances had been running, he'd ached to get to know this woman and to dance with her. But a lack of both courage and opportunity had stopped him from doing so.
He was here as a member of the dance studio he went to and, clearly, so was she, but a different studio. Both of them were with a moderately large group of fellow students who spent the night exchanging dance partners within their own groups.
It wasn't that there was any bad blood or exclusion between the groups. It's just that within their own groups they knew each other and naturally tended to congregate together.
Plus the girl in red was clearly a popular dance partner and rarely free for Adam to pounce upon. Not that Adam was given much time either. As a respectably skilled dancer in a group where females greatly predominated, Adam was in high demand; sometimes even dancing with two women at once - leading one with each arm. And the demand extended beyond the end of the dancing. More a seducee than a seducer, Adam had been bedded by every unattached adult woman in the group under the age of 35.
Even in the few minutes Adam had a chance to watch her, a swelling had grown in his pants. Which is why it was a bit awkward when Lucy tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to dance with her.
Lucy was an interesting and complex character. A successful Accountant, she was clearly smart, but slowly, over the couple of years they knew each other through the dance studio, Adam had learnt she had a different thought process to normal persons. In short, he had come to recognise she was very likely on the autism spectrum. High functioning certainly, but relating to people was not one of her skills. Probably what might once have been called mild Asperger's, but the professionals, in their wisdom had merged into a general autism diagnosis.
Dancing was one of her - obsessions is way too strong, let's say - points of focus. She worked hard to be a good dancer and to learn the steps. While methodical, she was inhibited in several ways. One made her dancing a bit wooden, however precise it was. The other was more of a blight on her life. She disliked physical contact with people; hardly ideal for partner dancing.
Getting to know and understand her had been a slow, sometimes painful, sometimes strange process for Adam over the several years, but that is a separate story.
As Adam danced with Lucy, he couldn't help but be distracted by the girl in the red dress. There was an art to perving at her while they were both on the dance floor; being far enough away to get an angle up her skirt as it lifted to her spins, but not so far away that the view was blocked by numerous other dancers or he missed the delightful sight of seeing her breasts do their own version of a spin turn.
But that was not to say he felt he could be rude enough to neglect Lucy. That wasn't how you made friends on the dance floor. Which meant for much of the time the girl in red was out of sight even if not entirely out of mind.
He'd just thrown Lucy into a turn when he felt a body collide heavily with his back; well actually, to be precise, with his backside.
He turned to apologise - as one does on the dance floor - to find that that the bottom pushed firmly against his left butt cheek belonged to none other than the girl in red; the collision having halted their bodies at approximately right angles to each other - her right butt against his left one.
As he turned his head, she flashed the most incredible smile at him.
"I'm sorry. My fault... Well, I suppose you could argue my partner shouldn't have thrown me into you... [at this she threw her partner a teasing grin], but I'm sorry just the same."
She separated her posterior marginally from Adam and gently rubbed his butt cheek with her hand...
"I hope I didn't hurt you."
Adam was transfixed. The smile had lit up for him and the seductive tone of her kind, gentle voice had left him speechless. Her hand on his butt had sent a thrill up his spine. His eyes drifted down to find the momentum of her suddenly halted turn had left her breast partly dislodged from its triangular covering, the edge of her areola just exposed. He instantly had a half mongrel in his pants.
Lifting a finger as one might to make a playful point, then rested it on his bare forearm, she added...
"I owe you a dance for that one..."
And then she was gone again, twirling seductively around the room.
