The Dance

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Inspired by the song Avalanche by Thea Gilmore

________________

Dance through the Avalanche

A hint of wind rush in my ear as we twist on the dance floor, stepping rapidly in perfect harmony across the hard waxed wooden floor. Then slow again as the music pounds itself against our hearts. My arm about her waist presses her against me again, while my other hand grasps hers.

Her head snaps sideways, not looking at me; focussed. With perfect poise, pointing in the direction her feet will follow. Hair tied up I admire the revealed line of her neck, smooth and edible, leading to her shoulder, collar bone. My head is more fluid in its motion, an arc allowing my eye to absorb her breasts pressed against my own chest.

Tonight she is wearing the black half cup corset, so I know that her nipples are pressed into the wool of my suit jacket. I can feel them through my lapels hard as pearls. We rise and fall as our legs interweave, my brogues tapping down millimetres from her delicate toes wrapped in their sandal strapped stilettos.

I kütahya escort look across the hall as we turn about each other once more, our bodies respond as the music changes key, the tall mirrors on the wall flicker slightly with the multitude of candle lights. Several copies of us glide in and out of view as though disappearing behind the statues and portraits that also adorn the walls.

I enjoy the laced back of her bodice, the bows leading to her bared bottom, curved and tensed as we lean into a hold in time with an extended note. The suspender straps hug her flesh as they cling to the lace-top stockings.

That bottom, the bottom of my Precious, has suffered much in search of perfection in the Dance. But tonight she has made it, I can tell we are entwined, physically and spiritually. We are in subconscious harmony and I know that there will be no need of punishment tonight. We have both enjoyed the training, but tonight we are transcending that.

We separate and she spins, I catch her as I lean forward, she malatya escort drops, trusting entirely to my positioning and strength to stop her collapsing to the floor. But we are synchronicity. Her body forms a perfect arch under my grasp, I picture the shadow we cast, a two dimensional sculpture. Lifted back to her feet I pull her once more into my embrace. This time our eyes meet, fleetingly, and I know she is complete.

We spin again back into fluid movement and I know that the music and movement is vibrating through her to the point where nothing else matters. She is acting without thinking. Her movements are instinctive and coordinated with my own; we are drowned out, merged.

The room fades into soft shadows on the edge of vision as we detect each other by touch, smell and taste as much as sight. The musical chords connect us and the bond is strong. Our bodies form patterns, she is beautiful and I am robust.

The enchanted track briefly releases us with a pause. I turn her towards me, facing each other, her manisa escort hands flat on my chest, my hands caress her beautiful behind and thighs. She breaths deep, her mouth half open eyes half closed, she is melting. But the music is still carrying us and I take her again, raising her arm up she turns away, one foot in front of the other legs straight, perfect. I place my other hand on her arse cheek. I know she will feel it’s warmth but I use it to push her back around to face me again.

With my hands behind her she arches backward, arms cast outwards, abandoned; gravity kneading her breasts. I pull her back up, and onto me, her legs kick up as I rotate rolling her and we head off across the dance floor again, our time nearly up.

I think I see tears on her cheek as we weave in and out of each others arms, pulling close and then loose and then close until the closing chord and I pull her into me, a move that none of her previous dance lessons have had, I press my lips to hers and we dive into each others soul. She moans into my mouth and I feel her painted finger nails gripping my arms and her body shaking on me. It is no longer just her eyes that are gushing.

The avalanche passes through her body and she slides to the floor, my beautiful content pussy cat curled at my feet on the warm wooden floorboards in the flickering candle light.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32