The music had so much bass Angela felt the beat caressing her body like so many pairs of hands. So far Cosmo's was living up to its billing, it was wall to wall bodies with a DJ that was burning it up and everyone on the dance floor was moving and twisting in an undulating rhythm. For her part Angela was in Heaven; Gregory had been everything Jessie had promised: he was tall, probably six foot or so with fair skin barely darker than what hers got to in the summer. His hair was black, freshly trimmed and wavy and he had a smile that broke down her apprehension from the minute she'd opened the door when he'd come to pick her up. His eyes were a pretty shade of green and yeah, he definitely knew how to move. It hadn't taken long before they were in step, grooving close, Angela brushing her ass against him every now and then before spinning back to face him. She may have been in Heaven, but she bet Gregory was seeing the Devil in her dark eyes...
Suddenly the stage lighting flared and the DJ who had been running things was lost in darkness as a second column of light stabbed down to the left of him, illuminating an all new DJ. The man shouted into his microphone and told everyone it was time the party got muy caliente. A chorus of shouts came back in response, cheering him on. Gregory leaned in close to Angela's ear while the previous song faded and they had a moment where she'd be able to hear him. She was smiling, in part because she was having such a good time but also, now, because she was getting a chance to inhale the scent coming off Gregory's hot skin some more. She hadn't been bold enough to ask him earlier that night what cologne or aftershave or whatever it was he used but damn if it wasn't right; it wasn't too strong or too sweet...it smelled...well it smelled like MAN, in the best sense possible. With his full lips so close to the edge of her ear, almost touching but not quite, Angela felt herself tingling.
"Ohhhhhh yeah, cool, you're going to LOVE him; that's DJ Barracuda and he spins the baddest hip-hop Salsa this side of the border."
"No lie?" she asked, surprised there would be someone out here doing music she REALLY knew how to move to. She'd learned Salsa watching her Mother and Father dancing at family parties from the time she was little. If this DJ was the real deal, Gregory was going to definitely be in for a treat.
The club lighting dimmed again, the strobing and neon strips taking over as DJ Barracuda opened up with a blend of Carlos Santana's electric guitar artistry remixed in with a Selena sample, upping the underlying bass all the time. The crowd shifted gears, readjusting to the new style and the difference in music, finding the beat and trying to do it justice. Angela picked it up effortlessly, tapping into the Latin vein like she'd just been immersed in a strictly Spanish conversation between her body and the music. Gregory, moving to keep up, was getting a little lost staring at Angela's swaying hips and ass the way he was. She followed the rhythm like the moon chased the sun, naturally, beautifully, and he smiled inwardly as he caught the envious glances of guys nearby.
Reaching out, she pulled Gregory closer, making it easier for her to get him in step and more difficult for him to gawk. The compromise? Now he was close enough to her that their bodies could blend together, her supple curves to his tall frame, slithering against one another in a dance fast becoming all their own...
******
The knock at the door echoed once or twice before Jessie answered. "Who is it?" she called, knowing the answer.
"Oscar. You know it's me, open up."
Jessie stayed on her bed, leaning back against the wall. "I know a guy named Oscar, kinda fine, too, but I hear he breaks dates."
"Jess', come on, can I come in, I told you what happened and my leg is still sore."
"I really, REALLY wanted to go dancing tonight," she continued, unmoved but smiling impishly.
"I know baby, I know."
"I guess, though if you were really, REALLY sorry maybe I could forget just this once."
"You think?" Oscar asked, playing along from out in the hallway, smiling as he heard the latches turn and happier still when he saw the door open. Jessie was standing there in nothing but one of his dress shirts, the one he'd left here after an awards dinner last week. It was unbuttoned down to the sterling hoop in her navel and the inner curves of her breasts were exposed showing that if nothing else, she didn't have a bra on. Her reddish hair tumbled to the top of her shoulders and framed her angular face and large, blue eyes. Shapely legs appeared from beneath the bottom of the shirt...Oscar had always loved Jessie's legs, especially the way her calves curved and her small, pretty feet. Her bare feet, he also saw, had been recently-pedicured judging by the clear gloss and white trim on her toenails.
He stood in the doorway for a few moments wearing a black sweatshirt and white, knee-length starter shorts with black stripes down the sides and tennis shoes with no socks. He was enjoying the simple sight and sense of Jessie while she, on the other hand, was obviously enjoying him being there and loving the thoughts of what would follow.