The Desperate Tango

I think it goes without saying that when one thinks of sexy ballroom dances like Tango and then one thinks of sex, it seems like a very deliberate combination.

Maybe when you actually live a combination like that you realize it truly isn’t and is more of a perfect marriage of dances both sensual and sexual.

A glowstick shoved into the laces of a corset can provide the perfect visual aid for those after-dark activities.
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Damon was a ballroom instructor at the dance studio near our country club when I was just nearly turned 17. He was unattainable the way the Charming Prince is in Cinderella and just as dashing and swoon inducing. He was nearly 40 with one of those angular faces and dark auburn hair that he oiled back over his head. He always wore white linen shirts and black pants, the line of his body showing a lightly muscled physique.

I was taking lessons in general ballroom technique and dance just as a past time after finishing high school and as a way to boost my internal feelings of my sensuality and accomplishment in that realm.

My love of Tango was inspired by the way his body moved across the dance floor, another woman’s body entranced by his own as he lead her though the steps and sensual body movements like an entranced slave. I signed up for the intense three hour class for Tango and Latin. I was in a panic in the last five minutes I had before I needed to leave for the class and my hands grasped at the arms of the armchair as my ankles encased in their delicate straps of my dance heels, twined in tension. As I stood to leave I imagined what his body would feel like next to mine, his strong hands controlling me. My breath left me as a heavy sigh.

There were only five students plus Damon at the class, two men and three women – perfect. We lulled around, dancing lightly with each partner to warm up, the more simple dances we knew like the Meringue and the Box Step to make our muscles more limber and ready for the dance. When at last I reached Damon, he held me apart from him formally as we warmed up, our eyes never really meeting, but the tension of my apprehension fueling a tightness to my body. We broke apart and I set myself to wiggling my ankles around in annoyance.

He made us go into reel exercises across the floor and back. My back was straight as a pin as I danced the repetitive reels and threw in spins at the last minute, my smile bright and welcoming as I looked over to him – he was actually looking at me this time. I caught something in his seemingly cold eyes as he saw my body in the form of his appeal; dance. I felt something that I needed to kindle.

The weeks went by, one by one as we had practice and learned more and more, my need growing by the practice, by the step. I caught him more and more looking at me, looking down into my eyes as he held me in the dance. He held me tighter than the other girls, he let the friction of our passing moves become a little more actual and his hand meandered skillfully out of bounds of simply the allowances of the dance. I liked it and he knew I did; but most of all – he liked it.

The sixth week during reels I slipped on my skirt hem and fell down on one knee, tiny tears springing from my eyes when my body realized the pain. Damon rushed to me and assured my safety first by word and then by lifting my hem and dropping it so that it slid down my thigh, nearly revealing my panties. He looked at my knee, wiping the few drops of blood from it, before slowly bending his face to kiss the skin near it. His eyes followed the line of my inner knee all the way down to my inner thigh, his grip on my underside of my calf growing tighter. Only after he realized the entirety of our class was staring at us and our interactions did he gently help me up and return to normal teaching. The light in his eyes was especially fiery the rest of the night and his gaze was penetrating.

I lingered that night after class, slowly slipping off my dance heels and massaging my insteps as I delicately watched him from across the room saying farewells from my fellow classmates on their meandering way out. His face brightened from soft fatigue to happiness as he say me sitting, still waiting…for him it seemed. His steps echoed as she walked across the wood dance floor center of the studio,

So, I see you just cant get enough of this place.

His smile was captivating.

Oh well, the three hours just isn’t enough chance to stare at myself in the mirror.

I laughed at myself for my bravery in such a comment and luckily he laughed with me. My eyes glittered I knew as I continued on my fearless streak,

You know, I’m feeling timid about the spins in the very center of the dance, theyre so important but I always seem to start giggling right when its supposed to be all about sensuality and movement.

He smiled as I pouted my lips in faux regret,

Well I’m not quite drop dead tired yet so let me take you for a little dance and fix that issue with the giggling.

He held out his hand expectantly when I dropped my gaze to my now naked feet and pouted once more and went to fixing them back on when he came closer and knelt to do it for me. His hands were so warm as he took my heel in his hand and slipped the little heel onto it, his fingers so nimble with the straps. Trills of warmth spread up my legs and deep into me as I realized our physical proximity. I really was hopelessly enthralled.

He stood and smiled as he once more held out his hand to me. I took it gingerly as he led me across the room and flicked the stereo on and took me out into the center of the floor. Now that there was no one in the room to see me, it seemed easier for me to dance the way I really wanted to; with no restraint.

Damon’s hands guided around me as I looked up into his eyes and felt his grasp get tighter and more commanding as he in turn looked down at me. The queue in the music began and we took the steps necessary and this time it wasn’t jut a dance, it was a sort of ritual. He spoke to me softly and close to my ear, never missing a step,

So the spins come in about 20 counts and I want you to be ready. Look into my eyes, feel my hands on you, feel sensation and you’ll understand the meaning of it.

I nearly swooned as I did crosses over his ankles with my feet, heels tapping sharply, looking straight into his eyes and his hands twisting my hips to make it all one movement in harmony. The spins worked marvelously, his palm sliding from my shoulder down to the upper part of my ass, with each revolution, my head snapping back to meet his eyes to halt the dizziness. I bit my lips as we bent into a slide and his leg went between my legs as I lent back into him, but this time I slid too close to his body, ground just a little too hard and wet my lips as I looked up at him, my hand clenching his.

The power of the moment got to us and our lips met in fire as the music continues around us, the notes going undanced as he kissed me. His hands slid from their positions to my upper back, his strong arms clenching me to him as he pulled us to an upright position. His hands went to my hair, his fingers knocking out the decorate combs, my hair spilling around our faces like a curtain. He sighed as he pulled from the kiss and pressed the side of his face to fine, his lips near my ear to whisper,

Oh god, what is this? I shouldn’t be indulging myself in this. Tell me something to alleviate my fears or either entice me to forget them.

His hands smoothed down my back, holding me tight as I replied,

Teach me another dance, teacher. Take me.

He nearly roared as he pressed another kiss to my lips, his hands impossibly strong on my body. His one hand reached down behind me and ripped the button open and let my long black wispy skirt fall to the floor. He moaned as he looked at the mirror wall, seeing my ass wrapped in French cut black panties and my curved legs ending in delicate heels. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the stairway that led to his office upstairs, a veritable panic in his step.

He embraced me after we reached the office and he had briskly slammed the door. He ripped at the buttons on my black collared shirt, revealing my breasts wrapped in a black lace demi cup bra, my nipples beginning to become visible. He spun me with a dancers grace and bent me over the arm of the velvet couch, his hands deeply massaging my ass. I knew what was coming when I felt the first heated blasts of his hand against my flesh. The sound of it like music to my ears,

Yes, please punish me instructor. Oh God and fuck…

And yes, I did scream the word fuck...right after the word God….I know.

He dropped to his knees and began to kiss my punished red ass and had the opportunity to pull down my panties. I swiveled and sat back on the arm of the couch, my legs spread and my kitten glistening before him. It was such a sexy mind-fuck to see him edge forward on his knees and kiss the inside of my thigh like a man praying. My soul all but left my body when I heard him exclaim at the wetness of my kitten when his tongue touched it. His fingers dug into my thighs as they gripped, his mouth around me, his tongue working inside the intimate folds of me. I felt that dig of warmth deep in my stomach and knew the rapture was close and rolling ever nearer. My small hand gripped at his head, pulling his closer, his tongue rapidly circling my clit and his hands sliding over my thighs. As I was just about to come, he slid his finger deep in side of my kitten. My back arched painfully as I fell back over the arm of the couch, my hips bucking hard against his face as he continued to hold me down and lap away at my now dripping kitten.

He playfully looked into my eyes as he stood, His hands diligently at his fly, working his buttons open. A he let his pants fall I was rewarded with a spectacular view of his huge, rock hard cock before me. I sat up, my mouth agape in wonder and once more my libido was stirred.

When women say size doesn’t matter it is because of one of a few reasons; One being that they don’t give a shit about how good a fuck is. Two being that they have no idea what in the fuck they are speaking of. And finally, three being that they like a tiny penis or are afraid of a large penis – both are included in the same category. Though I wish it were true, size AND skill are included and both must be used to the height of their potential to have an out of this world roll in the hay.

And that’s my final word on that.

My hand went around his cock as I evaluated his size and girth, both putting me in a fuck-frenzy. I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock and gently let my tongue tease his before completely engulfing the head with my wet mouth. I slid his cock deeper into my mouth as I whimpered with lust and he moaned with ecstasy. After I had mouth fucked him a few times his sexual rage pushed him to pull out and try his assault on me.

He grabbed me harshly and in one movement he had ripped me naked of my bra. My breasts felt the air on them and at once the nipples tightened, ensighting a small whimper from me. As he roughly grabbed one tit, he sucked at the nipple of the other, my head falling back in pleasure as his ministrations stoked the fire inside of me higher and higher. At last I believe he had had enough and wrapped his arms around me, his cock impaling me in one quick movement, my cunt stretched tight over his swollen prick. My nails dug into his back as he thrust deep into me, my moans filling the room with their sound.

In one surprising movement just as the rhythmn was getting good and grinding, he pulled out and had turned me around and bent me over, his cock slamming into my kitten from behind. He fucked me hard like a punishment and when my moaning got too incredibly loud to even be realistic, his strong hand covered my mouth. He held onto my hip and slammed in and out of me, his hand covering my mouth. Talk about hot. He fucked me in this constant movement for just a few moment more before removing his hand, much to my unhappiness.

He began speaking to me and that was much better than the discipline of my moans being muffled;
Oh god, tell me, am I doing a good job fucking you? Hmm? Do you like it?

I moaned out loud at this and my response was only an exaggerated moan and strong nodding of my head. I whimpered as he continued to slam into me. His voice was more strangled now;

Do you like that I take total command of your body? Do you like that I’m using you?

I screamed out; Yes! Yes, I do. Please use me.

I whimpered loud into my own hand as I felt the death throes of his cock, his orgasm like and earthquake shuddering behind and into me. At that, he pulled me down with him onto the floor, his arms wrapping protectively around me. His breathing was heavy and pounding in my neck, he muttered nearly unintelligible words as he stroked my belly with his powerful hand.

He fell asleep sometime later and I used it as an opportunity to slip out of his embrace and stand to get dressed and sneak out. Before I left, I dropped the blanket from the couch over him, admiring his tight muscled body before I did so. I skipped softly down the stairs and grabbed up my bag in a swift movement before slipping out the door, the slam of it surely waking him from his slumber.

I laughed and hummed to myself as I walked away.

Why are conquests always so much fun? Maybe because they think you’re the main prize when really it’s the reverse. Maybe that’s it.

I cant believe I didnt think of this sooner, but: Heres an update for you - two weeks ago, I turned 19. I know....scary. So, Happy Birthday to me (though I dont want to get any older).

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