The Dance

    The Dance

                                               Their eyes meet.
                                            They hold hands.
                                            The music begins.
                                            His hands on her hips,
                                            her hands on his shoulders,
                                            their feet circle the dance floor.
                                            Muscles move, legs move,
                                            backs arch, bodies press together.

                                            Exotic rhythms.
                                            Flutes, guitars, violins, castanets.
                                            Enchantment.
                                            Eyes follow the two with envy.
                                            Passion.
                                            Fire.
                                            Ecstasy.
                                            A quick tug.
                                            Whispers and knowing looks.

                                              "Let's go back to my place".
                                             They are alone.
                                            A quick tug. Hands caress.
                                            Too many clothes.
                                            Rip the material
                                            shoved and bent, fistfull of strands
                                            a yank, a shove, a bed, nude forms,
                                            hot flesh against flesh,
                                            nails dig on his back, blood, passion.
                                          Hardly a moment to collect themselves
                                          before willful violation is made.
                                          Feminie cries pleading for more,

                                          His cock slips inside her wet enclave
                                          His is a spear, hers is a well,
                                          He is a warrior, she is a princess.
                                          Her hands on his buttocks, her legs locked on his waist,
                                           He penetrates fiercely and with reckless abandon
                                           They orgasm together and reach heights of pleasure
                                            as they had never known before.

                                            
                                            What higher power has brought these two to dance ?

What madness doth fill the blood ?

What fire consumes the heart ?
                                            What drives us all to dance ?
                                            To dance, to love, to live, to cherish the fleeting sunlight of our lives before the long darkness comes. Before there is no more music to be heard, and the dance is no more. Before love is long gone and the sun has gone down forever.