Body against body, pressed in each other, scenting his lovely T-shirt, her hand placed on his heart, oohhh she felt delirious, and went very silent, breathing against his skin, her lips touching the fabrics, swallowing her spit, eyes closed, almost immobile, in a perfect embrace. He was trying to move her a little, but she was numb from desire. At some point, his leg finds itself among her legs, and they both strain against each other to make the dance sensation even more powerful. He loves looking at her face in such moments: eyes half open, hardly daring to breathe, dropping sighs, and if she weren’t the silent type, and in perfect command of her arousal, she would have dropped moans as well.
He placed her on his knee. “Sit!” he ordered. He repeated “Sit!” when he understood that she neither perceives nor conveys. “Sit!” she heard as if in the middle of a dream, and forced herself upon his knee, they received each other ardently, almost violently, and still it wasn’t enough. Then he caught her shoulder-blade and leaned her backwards in space. Auuuch, when you hate someone, you do not toss her like this. Then he straightened her “Sit!” still jingling in her head, and he looked at her face, pleased, for her face exuded unbearable delight.
Ready to Give In During the Dance
She could stay in his arms forever. When she changed partners, her eyes were still fixed on his, ready to stream if he chose to look at her, and she was jealous of every girl he danced with, and she could hardly wait for her turn. Then again into each other for a very short moment in which she forgot everything. She belonged, she was open to every sensation his body would draw from her body… ready to give in. After dancing with him, she was dazed. Auuch, he held her on his knee, she had wrapped her legs around him, and this dance sensation would keep her going for the entire night. It was better than anyyyything! She is ever ready; when he needs her, he will claim her, for he is the man.
