A work of fiction
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Being a work of fiction, everything is made up, even the stuff that bears the same name as stuff that existed before (Hurricane) Andrew.
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Including the sexual activity all of which occurs between characters at least 18 fictional years of age.
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Ilikepunctuation,Ithinkitmakesiteasiertoreadastory.Somepeopledon'tlikepunctuation.Honestly,Itriedtocuremyselfoftheneedtouseperiodsandcommasbutitdidn'twork.Sorry.
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Bobby had checked out the big hardcover book from the new public library on his way to work this morning. Now that he and I were both home from work, we took out the laminated 'footprint' pages and laid them on the cool Chattahoochee floor. He was making sure we had all of the ones we needed and that all the ones we had were for the same dance. I was trying to make sense of the instructions.
"Don't we need music Sara?"
"It says here that one should first 'familiarize yourselves with the steps and the order of the steps.'"
"Is that correct professor?"
"Indubitably."
"I think music would help."
"Well, Mister MacGenius, did you get any."
"Don't you have a Viennese waltz album in your room?"
"Yeah, right next to my silver tea set."
"Then I guess it's a good thing I checked this out." he said smiling as he produced a vinyl 33 1/3 with a gorgeous jacket illustration of a long white tour boat cruising through a green pastoral scene on the 'Blue Danube.'"
"You think of everything."
"I kinda have to sis, it's my job."
It was Bobby's job, one that he never asked for but was brilliant at just the same. He was promoted to man of the house at age ten and was the most responsible eighteen-year-old I had ever met. He took care of so many things for mom and me, the house, the car all while working and going to school.
He put the scratchy library record on mom's old Jefferson-Wards console phonograph player and we tried to figure out where to put our feet on the blue and red diagrams that it retrospect we should probably have taped down.
We weren't learning anything but it was fun "just holding Bobby's body close to mine." And no offence to Janis or Kris the classical waltz was somewhat more romantic than their tune. A lot slower and more deliberate, but you know there is a whole lot to be said for slower and more deliberate.
"Sara, do you know we should maybe do?" He said breaking a long sweet embrace.
"Yeah," I answered, grabbing his butt. But I wasn't thinking about the waltz.
"If all else fails, follow the instructions."
So I found some masking tape in the pantry and taped the diagrams down and we tried it again without music. Aunt Jenny would be happy, we were learning this dance for mom's youngest sister's upcoming third wedding. It was better without music, but I liked it better when we were stumbling over each other and Bobby was holding me oh so tight so that I wouldn't fall on the polished concrete floor.
After our skill level progressed from 'danger to the public at large' through 'completely pathetic' and then to 'merely horrible' we resumed listening to the harps and violins, bass and flutes on the album. Bobby looked into my eyes and then raised his head a tad, his lips kissing me on the forehead.
"Wouldn't it be nice to be taking a river cruise on that boat?" He said referring to the jacket illustration.
"With you?"
"Do you have someone else in mind?"
It was all playful banter as Bobby knew full well he was the only one for me.
"Well, I was waiting for Ray Walston to call."
"Oh, so antennae turn you on. You're weird."
"You should know."
"Yeah, it's almost like we were made for each other."
"Or at least simultaneously."
He responded with a long passionate mouth on mouth kiss, his tongue dancing... Well dancing a much more skillful waltz than our feet had been just recently. Practice makes perfect they say, and well at least we had practice at this dance, certainly not at the other.
"Is kissing," I said breathlessly, "a part of the waltz."
"Of course it is."
"I'm not so sure Aunt Jenny would appreciate us doing this at her wedding..."
"Might steal the show," Bobby said finishing my thought, he did that a lot.
Our waltz lesson came to an end with the sound of our '65 Barracuda pulling into to carport. Mom was home for a few hours between her split shifts at the semi-fancy Italian restaurant across from Homestead Plaza
Bobby gave mom a big hug and she gave him her grocery list for the IGA and asked him if he was 'good'. Bobby said that he was and what he meant by that was that his paycheck, cashed yesterday would cover this week's groceries. But I thought that calling Bobby merely 'good' was the understatement of the century.
Exquisite, that's my word for Bobby, and his attention to my needs. Last night in that holy hour we had alone together. Slowly removing my shirt and skirt, gently laying me down on the sofa. Kissing my little A-cups, the ones that he alone says are "absolutely perfect none better" playing with my sensitive nips, flicking his tongue across them. Inhaling them. Kissing my ribs, my flat tummy and my raven hair through my panties. Then sliding said panties from my person. Holding my buttocks in his strong hands and 'putting his face in the place'. Breathing in my aroma, running his lips and his tongue through my folds. Kissing and nibbling, licking and savoring my flavor. Enticing my pearl to show itself, and then welcoming it with a kiss and oh, oh...
Bobby doesn't even slow down at one. He rolling me over on top of him so I might reciprocate by kissing his sensitive head. Running my tongue down his shaft. His fingers delicately spreading me out atop his happy face as he resumes kissing and licking my interior surfaces. As distracted as I am I am trying to swallow his member whole. I am laying with my full weight upon him wiggling and he loves it, his wonderous ministrations increasing in both amplitude and modulation until I explode in a flash of light that only I can see. Two.
He hugs me returning to my breasts which he totally adores. Kissing and nipping, lightly pinching the buds, oh, oh. That is something that he does that's just simply amazing giving me a third just from my nipples. He is kissing me deeply, mouth on mouth, his hands on my breasts massaging them. I break the kiss just long enough to tear open the little foil packet and remove the condom inside.
