Sex And Tango Ch 01

Not bad for his first milonga, he thought. He'd gone a few rounds with other beginners, girls she knew from class. He danced better when it was with her. They didn't anticipate him the same way, they didn't connect with his body or dance around his mistakes the way she did. He wondered if it had anything to do with talent or everything to do with sex.

She was different here. The blue jeans and tank tops of the practica replaced by that delicious black dress. Red satin and lace hanging to mid thigh and split to the hip where it disappears beneath the black. Open-backed so he could press his palm against her bare skin as they danced. At the practica she would crane her neck to instruct him; here she simply coupled her body with his, ear pressed to his heart.

So, here he sits, sipping at his drink and watching her dance. Watching the way her legs peak through the slits in her dress, the graceful line from her shoulders through the tips of her high heels. Watching as others, more capable than himself, display the extent of her skill. And oh! there it is. The jealousy. He would never begrudge her tango; he just wishes his own skill were such that he too could have the room staring as he shows her off. Though the sight of others so close against her would always light that fire, he mused.

The dance ends and she comes back to his table, "ready to go, baby?"

"Sure."

"Let me just swing by the Ladies' and we'll go." He watches her disappear into the back of the restaurant. She's back in a few minutes; they say their goodbyes and head to his car. The ride passes with her hand resting possessively on his thigh, head lolling on his shoulder.

At her apartment, she seats him in an overstuffed chair and curls up in his lap, arms around his neck. "Thanks for coming, baby. You have a good time?" She murmurs into his neck.

"Mmhm," he mumbles as he kisses her head. Already he can feel the warm tension beginning slowly to form. She crooks a finger under his chin; turning his mouth to meet her own, she kisses him firmly.

"Think you might like to go again sometime?" Her eyes are soft, but there's a hint of you'll-be-handsomely-rewarded behind them.

"Sure," he says, cupping her face in his hands. Then, as his eyes rake down her slim frame, "if you wear this dress."

She smiles as he drags his eyes down the vee of her neckline. When his rust-flecked irises make a home at the split in her skirt, she feels him swelling beneath her. She shifts slightly as his hardening length presses against the curve of her ass. Her moan is barely audible when she bites her lip and fists her hand in his hair. Grabbing her tightly, he crushes her lips, teasing them apart with his tongue. Sucking and nibbling her lower lip, jousting with her tongue. As they separate for breath, she muses "Taking you dancing was officially a good idea."

She turns in his lap so her knees wedge beside his hips, dress sliding up her legs until she's just barely decent. He tries to slide his hands up beneath her dress and she slaps him away lightly, "tsk tsk." Pouting, he tries the clasp holding her dress behind her neck but she shakes her head and grasps his wrists. Releasing him, she unbuttons his shirt, throwing it into a vacant chair.

"Okay," he thinks "wonder what exactly she's got planned." His eyes are drawn back to her hips where her dress is pushed up high. "She must be wearing those panties I like, with the strings," he thinks.

He has barely enough time to think it before she's kissing him again, drawing his tongue into her mouth, sucking on its tip. She kisses a path up his throat, keening softly as his nails press into her shoulder blades and he unfastens the top of her dress. "Naughty!" She places his hands on her knees, pinning them in place and adjusts her dress.

With her lips almost brushing his ear she asks, "where was I?" He groans into her neck as she nips at his earlobe. He runs his tongue along her collarbone then sweetly sinks his teeth into her shoulder, moaning his desire as her hands run up his stomach and across his chest, grazing his nipples. She shimmies back a little so she can get her hands on his belt. Her grin is devilish at his gasp.

By now his erection is approaching painful. His pants so tight against his straining cock that she has trouble unzipping his fly. Gently, she releases his length from his boxers, grasping it tightly enough to make him gasp for air and struggle to release his still-trapped hands. "Not yet," she whispers against his lips, pulling a needy groan from his lips. She has one hand against his cheek, the other reaching beneath her to grasp his deliciously throbbing cock. He only wishes he could see her fine hand wrapped around him, but her skirt is obscuring his view.

Below her, her thumb is flicking the sensitive strip below his head, circling slowly, massaging his tight tip, slipping across his slit as the precum seeps from his needy shaft. In front of her, he is starting to shift in the chair, panting and moaning quietly, wanting his hands on her, his lips on her, his shaft buried in her. She takes her tongue delicately along his lips, whispers in his ear "I want you now," her eyes glazed with desire. His hips jump at her words, the rest of his body tensing.

He's not expecting her next move. He's expecting her to stand, release his hands, and drop that little dress on the floor. He's not prepared for her to look straight in his eyes and drop onto him, simultaneously releasing his hands. "Oh, god," he yells as he's plunged hilt-deep into a hot, slick glove so tight he can do nothing but wait for his body to quiet its shuddering.

She watches as he shakes, eyes closed, breathing deeply. After a few moments, his eyes snap open, questioning. Rolling her hips against his, she grins, "took 'em off in the bathroom at the restaurant."

As comprehension dawns, he wraps his hands around her thin waist and accuses "you planned this!"

"Lil' bit," she says making that adorable face and holding her index finger and thumb an inch apart. He looses a guttural growl as he lifts them both and pushes her back against the wall, her legs holding her tight against his hips.

A hungry cry bursts from her lips as the wall forces him deeper inside her. She is panting as her hips work against his. Unable to quiet the churning of her hips she gasps, "like my planning, huh?" He feels her climbing, grinding her tight clit against him, hands fisted in his hair, inner muscles squeezing his cock with astounding strength.

"Very much," he answers, one hand supporting her ass as the other presses her hips against the wall. He thrusts strongly, deeply into her. Once. Twice. Thrice as she screams his name. Feeling his knees go weak as her muscles flutter around his hard length he spins from the wall and gently lays her out on the floor.

"You know," he says, thrusting with a maddeningly slow pace that allows him to keep his head and is quickly making her lose hers, "I'd usually object to you wearing clothes but something about this..." His hands sliding under her skirt punctuate his sentence, nails pricking her hips and ass as a growl escapes his throat. "Let's just say if I'd known, I would have been hard the whole ride here."

She bites her lip, moaning "good."

Her body rolls below him in time with his movements, driving his shaft even deeper. He leans down, quickly unfastening her dress and pulling it to below her breasts. Her nipples pebble beneath a single swipe of his tongue as her body's churning approaches a thrashing intensity. She wraps one leg about his waist and he slides one hand between them, finding her almost over-sensitive clit and rubbing lightly with his fingertips. She gasps as her hips buck up against him and her muscles tense until she is nearly paralyzed. She gasps a few more breaths before her orgasm overtakes her.

She shudders, moans, shakes through her climax, her inner muscles gripping with such intensity that he's on the very edge of his own climax. Her hips still moving, she flips them over and in a few strokes he crests his orgasm and crashes down, gripping tightly to her thighs. She squeezes him inside her, drawing gasps and moans from his lips. Finally, she collapses on top of him. "Feel like a shower?" she asks, raising a brow.