May I Have This Dance?

Going out for a night of dinning and dancing? The dinning is fine but what is with the dance? Do we watoosie or mash potato?

If you are going with me, it will have to be something even less formal than these. I'm speaking of dancing close; I mean close!

There is nothing better (well, one other thing maybe, but I'll get to that later) than being on an intimate dance floor, holding an attractive woman in my arms. The perfume of her long, blond hair in my nostrils, the suppleness of her breasts against my chest incites my heart to palpitate and my knees to weaken. Will you be my consort for tonight?

The music is soft, the wine is fine, the time is right. There may be many couples on the floor, but there is only one that matters. I take that first leading step while you gently follow, and we begin moving together as one, experiencing each other, learning our rhythm. As the music continues, we slowly cease moving our feet; we hold one another with less intensity, relaxing as our hearts begin to dissolve.

I gently press my lips against your neck, a caressing kiss that begins near your soft ear, and continues slowly to your shoulder. Your response is a short catch of the breath which becomes a long, soft sigh. Then, I feel a slight difference in the way you move. Subtle it is, but the gesture of your hips is shifting to a circular, slightly back-and-forth motion. Both of our movements become slightly erratic, for we have found that for which we were longing when our fingers first touched. Thus begins the foreplay, for we know that we are desiring the same, ultimate resolution.

After a few more sensuous turns, we walk hand in hand, heartbeat by heartbeat to the elevator, which takes us directly to my penthouse suite and to a room with a moon lit balcony overlooking the palm-wreathed bay. A chilled bottle of champagne has awaited our arrival. There, in the warm night air, we kiss that first long, passionate kiss, and the rhythm of our hips begins anew. Our fingers slowly and softly begin searching each other's bodies as we eventually move toward the lace-curtained bed...


I don't know what happens next, because I always wake up at that spot. Jeez, I'll end up dancing with myself again, no doubt.