July 28, 2009

Just Let Me Dance You, Give Yourself Over

He gestured to her to get up, and join him out on the dance floor. He offered her his right hand, palm up, open, in front of her and she placed her left hand, fingers, onto his open palm. He tilted his hand slightly so that her fingers were hooked over the edge of his hand. He looked over at her and saw some apprehension in her eyes, he stared into her eyes for a moment, smiled at her, and stepped forward, beginning to pull her along by her accepted hand. She walked forward with him, but about a half step back, almost reluctantly, but also excited by the prospect of something they had talked about off and on, for months. She was finally going to be danced, he was going to dance her.

She had danced with others, sure, many times, but she knew this was not about them dancing with each other, she was going to give herself over to this, she knew he was very clearly going to lead her, take her where he wanted, and she would follow. He had told her there would be no skills problem, he would lead, she would follow, it was not something she needed to know how to do, all she had to do was feel him against her, and follow. She feared she would make false steps, embarrass herself, and him, not show grace. He had told her it would be easy; even so, she was reluctant and apprehensive, but could not wait to be taken by him in this way.

As they reached the edge of the dance floor, he lead her around in front of him while he moved forward taking a partial step, turning to his right, positioned directly in front of her, further away than she had imagined he would be. The open space between their bodies was like an unanswered invitation. Then, he took her left hand and moved it to his side, holding it so that her fingers slipped through his belt loop and her thumb hooked over the waist band of his jeans. Once her hand was in place, he slowly slid his hand up her wrist, thumb on top, pressing down firmly, and fingers lightly tracing over her skin on the underside of her arm; up along her forearm to her elbow, around the bend of her elbow and up the back of her upper arm; and onto her shoulder. But his hand did not stop at her shoulder, it moved across her shoulder and around to the back of her neck, up under her shoulder length hair and rested there, with the heel of his palm on the side of her neck, fingers curled around to the nape of her neck. His thumb pressed gently on her jaw bone, tilting her head up slightly and looking into his eyes.

He held up his left hand, palm up, invitingly; just as he had with his right hand earlier; and looked down at her. She knew to place her other hand in his and he held it loosely, with their elbows bent slightly, his thumb pressed down and secured her fingers in place, holding her hand now. First with his left foot, he stepped forward as his body approached her, pressed up to hers, and then his right foot came forward, and she felt his knee pressing between her thighs. The open space gone, the invitation offered, accepted and taken. At the same time, his hand slipped down off the back of her neck, and pressed wide open between her shoulder blades, encouraging her forward up against him. As their feet moved toward each other, his right knee slipped deeper between her thighs and she felt herself pressed against his leg above his knee.

And then, the music started -

I'm Sittin' on Top of the World - Willie Nelson & Asleep at the Wheel

. . . and he began to sway with the music, taking small tentative steps, infusing the rhythmic movement to both of them. Slightly moving his upper body to and fro, side to side, pressed against hers, back and forth, and moving his leg, moving hers to the same rhythm, controlling the movement of both their bodies, close together, moving, becoming one . . .

You don't have to think, just follow me,
feel the feeling let your body be,
We'll just be moving, so don't worry,
We're dancing in our own little world.

We're just out here, on the dance floor,
step to the right, pause, then once more,
we'll just move slowly, so don't worry,
simply move slowly, follow my lead.

Just let me dance you, and romance you,
you don't have to think, nothing to do,
slow, sultry, swaying, soft persuading,
just let me dance you, give yourself over.


  1. *sighs wistfully*

    That was so beautifully written. I felt like I was the one dancing.

    Love your writing.. :)

  2. I'm a vanillawoman, but am hmmm, exporing?my fascination w/bdsm. I LOVE your writing, it's provocative, deeply stirring, lusty.

  3. Lucky girl. Perfect song, and I like your lyrics, too.

  4. Completely mesmerized by the offering of this phrase:

    She was finally going to be danced. He was going to dance her.

    A past lover, and one I will hold as gift for the remainder of my days, once said to me that a woman, every woman, has not one, but two cherries. The one she gives up, as is the expectation. The other? Some aren't even aware of it, but those that are, take every breath, with a longing to expose it, to be taken to core, to be rooted to the absolute essence of her womanhood.

    Your words above reminded me of his lessons. I was unborn before him.

    A wonderfully given, read.

  5. *sigh*

    That almost makes me believe there really are men out there who like to dance...

  6. You are so romantic David...love it! Love the post and love you.


  7. You are indeed; hopelessly romantic! It was sensational, and I applaud your ability to pen this. I am starting to think you missed your true vocation!

  8. so romantic . . . (hopelessly romantic)**2
    I guess I better turn in my Dom badge to Sir J?

    Seriously, thank you all for your very kind words. Writing this was a challenge, and great fun.
    Dancing can be a wonderfully fun social activity; it can also be a very erotic connection between two people.
    “Dancing: The vertical expression of a horizontal desire legalized by music.”

    Thanks again.

  9. better late than never, but wonderfully written. dancing can be an erotic interaction between two people in the middle of a crowd. if it's done well, I can go into subspace on the dance floor.

    thanks for allowing us a view into your thoughts and desires.

  10. Beautifully expressed, it felt like I was there. But just watching it from a distance. I would have stepped on your feet.