I assumed the position.
I shut my eyes. I raised my right arm. I stood erect, and motionless. I felt exposed. I felt all eyes were on me. Then I felt my husband's hand on my waist, he held my right hand in his left. The music started, we began to dance and I opened my eyes.
We were in the main hall on the local community center, Tuesday evening, on our first dance class. I was mortified, dancing was not my thing, and it did not help, that Eric, my husband learnt ballroom dancing when he was a teenager. It made me even more self-conscious. I made a mistake, stepped on his foot. Just like in the movies. He smiled at me and I regained a bit of my calmness.
It wasn't that bad after all. Dancing among three dozen strangers.
'You're doing great', Eric said. I stepped on his foot again.
'I'm sorry', I whispered. We danced. He danced, and I tried to follow.
After an eternity (or was it just a minute?) the music stopped.
'Well done everybody!', shouted Pamela, our dance teacher. 'Wow, that was scary, your first waltz steps. All right, nobody broke their legs, I see lots of smiling faces, let's try again!'
'Don't you feel stupid, dragging around a hapless girl?' I asked Eric.
'You are not hapless, this was your first try. You should have seen me on my first class.'
'Yes, I would have love to see you...'
'Fifteen, face full of acne, hands sweating. I would have stolen your heart in a second.'
'I think you've already stole a couple of hearts tonight.'
'What do you mean?'
Eric was tall, and handsome. Dark hair, with a hint of silver. He had large warm brown eyes which were often looked as if smiling. And he smiled a lot.
I was not blind I have already saw a few quick glimpses shot at my man from other women. I loved it.
'Lucky, I have already got the heart of the most beautiful girl.', Eric said and put a quick kiss on my lips. The music started again, and we moved.
This time I was more confident. I still butchered the steps but I did it confidently. Eric smiled encouragingly every time when I stumbled.
I thought about what he said. Me being the most beautiful girl in the room. It was clearly not true.
But... almost true. Even tough I passed thirty I managed to keep my slim figure, my boobs were firm as I pressed them to Eric's chest , which made him smile even more. He moved his hand ever so slightly toward my bottom, and for a second I was terrified he would grab my ass. My tasty little ass, as he called it when we were alone.
Time passed. We learned a few more steps, 'waltzed' around. We both worked up a little sweat, there was no air-conditioning in the hall.
'All right folks. We have 15 minutes left, and you are doing great!' announced Pamela. 'Let's do something scaaary. Guys I want you to leave your partners, and each of you step down the line to the lady who is standing before you!'
I grabbed Eric's hand, I felt the terror grabbing my insides. I didn't say a word but my eyes told him everything. He leaned toward me, kissed me, and pulled my hand away from his hand.
'I thought this would happen', he whispered. 'Relax, Bee, you'll be fine. It's part of the fun.'
He winked at me and stepped away. I took a deep breath. He was right, I thought. I relax, dance for a minute with an equally amateur male, we awkwardly apologise to each other and I am back to Eric.
'Hi, I am Steve' Said a man stepping next to me. He was my height, bald, and was too nervous to look into my eyes.
'Hi, I am Beatrix.' I replied just in time, as the music started again and we were off. As it turned out I was right, Steve was just as bad as I was. We managed to stumble around the hall, and I began to feel good. Realizing that others struggled just as much as I did helped a lot to my confidence.
'Thank you Beatrix.' Steve said when the music stopped. He looked into my eyes, smiled shyly. He bowed slightly. I realized I liked him.
'Thank you, Steve, it was lovely to dance with you...'
'OK, folks, one more time. Gentleman, please step to the lady before you, we swap again. Last time tonight!'
Damn it Pamela! I turned toward my next partner. He was staring straight into my eyes, with a smile. However it was only his lips which did the smiling. His eyes were cold. And wandered downward. I felt like I could feel his gaze on my skin. On my lips, my neck. On my breast. He stopped there for a moment his eyes shifted quickly left and right. Was he blatantly looking for my nipples? Could he see anything? I wore only a light peach blouse, I had removed my sweater because of the heat in the hall.
I felt like I was standing naked before him. He looked at my breasts. Saw the light sweat glistening on them. Saw them raise as I drew breath. Saw the full nipples, the areolas. I knew he did not see boobs, in his eyes I had tits. Tits made far grabbing. My skin tingled as he lowered his gaze further. He sees my bush, I thought. He sees that I trim it but leave it on. Knows that I spend a lot of time maintaining it. For a man. He sees my pussy, and also sees my frilly yellow panties.
It was only my imagination of course. He could not see anything, he could not see my panties and what was under it the same time.
The man's eyes wandered down onto my legs and feet and jumped back and caught my eyes. He waited. I did not know for what, but a voice in my head screamed: 'Turn around, he wants to ogle your ass! Show him everything you have!'
I did not move of course. His smile change slightly. Was he mocking me? He had measured me up, and concluded: not bad for 30 something slut, but not good enough by his standards?
He step forward, and stood right on front of me. My tits (I couldn't help thinking of my boobs as tits now) almost touching his body. He was younger than me, but that cold smile made him look older. He was clean shaved, his brown hair close cropped. He was my height, his eyes level with mine.
'What's your name?' he asked. His voice deep, and calm. As he spoke a smelled his breath. He was a smoker. He pushed forward, our bodies touched. He put his arm around me, and pulled me closer.
'Beatrix.' He grabbed my right hand and raised it. We were ready. The music did not start yet.
He did not introduce himself. We stood, he did not stop staring at me, his eyes kept wandering down, measuring my tits firmly pushed against his body.
'Legs apart!' He ordered. I realized he was right. In waltz the man positions his leg between the woman's. I shifted my legs slightly, and he pushed between them right away. I felt he pushing my leg further apart. His thigh was right against my crotch.
'You have much to learn girl. Try your best when you dance with me!' Finally the music began. It must have been only half a minute since he walked to me yet it felt like hours.
We danced.
For all his arrogance, and sneering confidence, he was not a good dancer. Even shy Steve, my previous partner was better than him. But he did not care. He moved around the hall grabbing my body along. I desperately tried to keep up with him, I worried I would fall on my bottom otherwise. He had no style of eloquence to his movement. He stepped between my legs again and again when and I had no choice but accept him between my legs. His hand moved to the small of my back and stayed there.
He sneered at me every time when I made a mistake, or he decided I made a mistake. And all I did were missteps and tumbles. I had no chance to move around with him with any resemblance of grace. But I followed him and accepted his advances.