First Dance

The invitation had been specific as to time and place, but I really did not know why she wanted me there. She had never invited me to the studio before, though she had shown me a few dance routines at her home.

I knew she had been waiting for this day, the first that her doctor would allow her to go without the back brace. I had wanted to do something to help mark it as special for us both. I had thought long and hard about this, and though her doctor had advised her to wait before she tried dancing, I knew she would not. I talked to a mutual friend about this, and I had decided to support her and trust her judgment. I showed her my trust by giving her a gift certificate to her favorite shoe store, telling her to get some new dancing shoes. I knew she had gotten them a few days ago and was hoping to see them today.

She stood listening to some slow jazz, and then stepped off into a simple routine that I had watched her do before. I was wondering why she had made a point of asking me here today, but I was happy to see her dance in her new shoes.

I watched as she danced across the floor. It had been so long since she was this happy. She had been injured a couple of months ago, nothing serious, just a broken wrist and a sore back, but she had lost her opportunity to go on tour with the dance company, and she had been devastated.

I had known that dancing was important to her, not truly realizing how important until she could not dance. If she could not dance, I would lose a part of her, and possibly all of her. It bothered me a bit how much of her self-esteem she wrapped in her dancing, but I knew that I would never change that.

Dancing was something we could not share, not because we did not want to, but because I was unable too. I could not dance, no matter how hard I tried. Although a good athlete, on the dance floor I not only had two left feet, but they seemed intent on tripping me.

She stopped in front of me and took my hands in hers, smiling at me mischievously. I shook my head and tried to pull away as she led me onto the floor, but she held me firmly. I had always known she was strong, but as this was the first time she had ever asserted her physical strength with me, I was surprised at how easily she could maintain control.

“Please Anya, you know what will happen if I get out there.”

“I want to dance with you, and I am not going to take no for an answer. Not today.”

She exerted that strength that I had desired for so long to control and pulled me out to the floor.

“Close your eyes.”

“Isn’t that my line?” I quipped.

“Not until I say it is, and right now it is mine.”

I closed my eyes as she pulled me onto the floor.

"Wait here. And no peeking." I tried to scowl, but I truly was pleased to hear the happiness in her voice.

I could not hear her light steps above the music, but I soon felt her presence again.

"Sit down."

I sat as she guided me into the chair. She then placed my arms on the armrests of the chair, and kissed me again. I returned the kiss with fervor. I felt her fumbling at my wrists, and then leaning on them, but thought nothing of it.

"You can open your eyes now."

I heard the laughter in her voice and looked at her with a smile on my face.

"Promise me that you will not get mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

"Promise."

I looked at her smile, and the anxiety in her eyes, and could not resist.

"I promise."

She stepped back and smiled down at me. I started to reach for her and found that she had secured my arms to the chair. Looking down I saw two Velcro straps around my wrists. When I looked up, I could see the fear in her eyes, and the shy smile on her lips.

I smiled.

“I guess you have a captive audience then, what now my sweet?”

She smiled at me and skipped over to the stereo. A classical piece came on, something melodic but not evocative. I did not know enough to be sure, but I thought it was Bach. She began to sway as she walked back and stood in front of me. I was not sure how she managed it but she seemed to melt to the floor and ended up sitting in a lotus position.

“I have often wanted to share my dancing with you. I want to take you in my arms and let you feel the joy of dance.

“Yet I cannot.”

She looked up at me and I could see the sadness in her eyes.

“I want to share this with you, so now I will.”

The music switched to an up tempo jazz beat as she stood. I admired the grace she had in rising to her feet from that position without any apparent effort. She moved into a dance with me as the center, crossing in front of me and then spinning around the chair. At first her moves were simple dance steps, but soon she was moving in such a way that my breath caught in my throat. The sheer sensuality of the dance made me want to reach out and throw her to the floor.

She continued to dance, every move beginning to drip sex. She moved closer to me, and allowed her hand to trail across my chest.

“Let me go.”

Just then, the music switched to Private Dancer.

I knew she could hear the desire in my voice, but she just smiled and stepped behind me, running her hands up and down my arms. She leaned forward and pulled my head into her breasts. Her hands moved down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensations.

She opened my belt and slacks, and pulled them off me as I lifted to help her. That left me sitting there in my blue boxer briefs and black oxfords.

She then stood and started dancing again. She danced around me through the various songs and never touched me, nor did she take anything off. She moved as I would imagine a harem girl dancing the dance of the seven veils for her sheik. I could see the veils floating about her and drifting down in my imagination. She danced as though her life depended on it.

For the first time I appreciated her passion for dance in a way that made me truly regret my inability to dance. Her passion filled me in a way that I had not know was possible.

Then I realized that I was becoming hard. Her movements combined with my restraints, excited me in a way that I had never experienced before. It my arms were not restrained to this chair she would not finish her dance.

The music faded and she came and stood in front of me. I admired the sheen of sweat on her face and the way her breasts heaved from her exertion. I honestly have to say that I have never seen a more beautiful.

Than the music segued into Bolero and she moved closer, all but climbing into my lap. Her movements moved from sensual to sexual as she began to make love to me while I was tied to that chair. She moved her body so close to mine that I could feel the heat through her clothing.

Her body electrified mine, and my hair stood on end and a shiver ran through me. My body shook with desire as her scent wafted to my nostrils. She wore no perfume, all I could smell was the strawberry scent of her shampoo, the slight fragrance of the Dove soap she washed with, and her.

The sweat, the musky aroma of her excitement, combined and wafted into my nostrils, exciting me more. I was always turned on by scent, something that she definitely took advantage of for the first time.

I was quivering with excitement, my shoulders and arms shaking violently with the need to hold her in my arms and feel her skin against mine.

She moved near me, barely making contact. The way her clothes brushed against my bare skin was more erotic than any caress.

She moved closer to my face and I leaned forward to kiss her, our lips coming together gently yet firmly. The kiss soon became all I could feel or think about. She melted onto my lap and wrapped herself around me in an embrace that brought us together as one. I could feel my pulse settling down and merging with hers as the kiss went on.

After and timeless moment she broke away and looked into my eyes. Her pupils dilated and I could see the passion and desire in her eyes. I knew the same feelings were visible in mine. I wanted to tell her to let me go again, but I could see something happening deep inside her and waited to see what would happen.

I watched her make a decision. She closed her eyes and ran her hands slowly down my arms to my wrists. I watched as she took a deep breath and released my wrists, gently holding my wrist in place. She looked at me again and then slipped off my lap.

A song by U2 started, "If God Will Send His Angels." She looked at me and slowly began to strip. Her feet did not move yet she swayed before me like a temptress. As her leotard fell, she stepped of into a dance that again caused my breath to catch in my throat.

She was naked under the leotard. She continued to dance for me, lifting her hands to release her hair, letting it cascade down her shoulders the way I liked. She began to move a bit more, dancing just in front of me. I reached out to her and she drew back just enough to let me know she wanted me to wait, and then moved forward. I took her hint and removed my shirt as I watched her.

As the song ended she dropped to the floor gracefully, kneeling before me with her forehead to the floor in a perfect gesture of submission.