I took another sip from my Red Stripe to steady myself. My buddies were practically shoving me in her direction.
"Okay, Okay," I yelled over the bass of the pulsating dancehall as I shrugged Dave's hand off my shoulder.
They were right, of course. I should have already gone over to talk to her. I had been staring at her for the last hour. She was pretty, but far from the best looking girl in this little local club that we had stumbled upon while driving our rented mopeds around Negril. She was bigger than her two companions, who were both gorgeous with trim little figures and ample curves in exactly the right places. Taller by at least 6 inches, possibly closing in on six feet. She was voluptuous, not fat or heavy, but somehow both soft and solid at the same time. Firm with just a little jiggle when she wiggled.
And by god, could she wiggle. I had never seen rhythm like that. Every part of her body moved in seductive undulations, perfectly punctuated to the beat , fluid and graceful and positively oozing sex. She was amazing. It was her incredible dancing that had caught my eye to begin with. Not that I was alone, every guy in that place had stared at her for some period of time. Her thin summer dress clung to her sweating body, shaped perfectly to her ample breasts. It left little to the imagination. She was mesmerizing. Despite all the wild grinding couples around her on the spectacle that was this dancefloor, it was impossible for your eyes not to lock on to her. And once she had you, you couldn't let go.
I had watched her brush off at least a dozen advances as she danced with her two friends. Her eyes were closed most of the time, her entire being absorbing the music. In a place like this, an accompanied woman on the dance floor was already an open invitation, but her hips were like the siren song. Guys would dance up on her and she would glide into their bodies. They would grind for some brief period of time, limbs, hips and breasts rubbing all over each other. Then at some point, sometimes after a minute, sometimes after a couple of songs, her gyrations would increase. Always to the rhythm, but somehow more complicated. The guy would start to look like a man holding on to the last car of a roller coaster by his fingertips, trying for dear life to keep up. And then he would misstep and she would be gone. The rejection was as clear as it was subtle and graceful. She never missed a beat. Her eyes might have only opened for a second to survey the crowd anew or a quick conspiratory glance to her friends.
On and on the scene repeated. The best guy lasted three songs. It was right after that, as she eased back into the crowd that she looked in my direction. There was no doubt when her casual gaze met mine that I had been staring at her. When she turned her round angelic face, with its high cheekbones and luscious lips, towards me, I froze. Her deep brown eyes filled with a demonic sparkle and she gave me a wicked grin as her eyes met mine. The look was completely ravenous and I felt consumed from across the room. All the while she continued to dance, hips grinding the air. I was overwhelmed.
Before this moment I had been fantasizing about trying to dance with her, just for a little bit. I know I can dance. I'm definitely better than your average white-guy rocking the overbite and I'm sure I could have held my own with most of the women on the dancefloor. But she was in another league, another universe. In my head I had it all played out as I would confidently stride over to her and make my move. But with one hungry glance I was shattered. I broke our our gaze, looking sheepishly at the floor. When I looked up, she had danced on.
So I continued to watch. And then my opportunity arrived. She and her friends left the dance floor for the bar and were now standing a mere ten feet from my buddies and I. That's when Dave started prodding me. First with words and then he was pushing me over. I could hear my other buddies saying something about this being our last night and chickenshit, but with that sip of Red Stripe I had already made up my mind.
I moved through the crowd and wiggled my way into a space next to them at the bar. She had her back to me as I leaned onto the bar feigning as if I was trying to get the bartenders attention. I looked her over briefly and her friend caught me and tapped her and she turned around.
"Like what yah see bwoy," she said smiling like a lion. I started to respond, but knowing that I was going to trip over my tongue, I paused for a moment to compose myself. Her friends leaned in staring at me mischievously.
"Mi can help yah wid someting?"
"Yes." I said with only the slightest of hitches in my voice. Not wanting to lose the momentum now that I had managed to get my tongue moving, I continued.
"My name is Ebin," I said, extending my hand.
"Mary" she said as her silky hand enveloped mine, her eyes penetrating me. I felt like my head might explode, but I pressed on.
"I just want to say that you are the most amazing dancer I have ever seen."
"Mmm. Dat sweet." she purred in her rich Jamaican accent, leaning into me ever so slightly.
"Could I be so bold as to ask you to dance?"
She tilted her head back with a throaty laugh and then looked me square in the eyes again, "Aw, boy, cyaan. We takin a little break now."
It wasn't no and my head hadn't exploded yet, so I figured I would push my luck.
"I don't mean to be so forward, but this is my last night here and I know I will never have the opportunity to dance with someone who moves as incredibly as you do." She was smiling so I went on, feeling like I was already hanging on to the roller coaster by my fingertips without having even stepped out onto the dancefloor.
"Seriously, you are amazing. I just want a chance to dance with greatness. And I know I may not look it, but I've got some moves." I added.
She laughed again.
"Oh do yah?" she said, her eyes dancing, taunting me. Then she turned to her friend and said, "Im tinks im can move..."
Her friend whispered something in her ear and they both grinned and turned back toward me.
Mary was again staring deep in my eyes when her friend interjected, "How badly?"
"How badly what?" I asked trying to shake off the trance of Mary's gaze.