Dance of the Gypsy

This entire change in her had him stumped. He could think of no explanation save their cross exchange the night before. He tried to remember now. Oh yes. He had wanted to visit her boudoir but she had repelled him. Perhaps she had rethought her position and realized it was futile to fight him. After all, he would eventually win. It was his right.

He bathed that evening before dinner, feeling as though something positive would come before the end of the night. The moment he saw her waiting for him at the top of the stairs, he knew this change in her was no anomaly. She was dressed with all the feminine seduction at her disposal. He could hardly believe it was the same woman. She wore the rather bland attire she had brought from England, but her hair hung about her shoulders in a loose style that accentuated her heart-shaped face. Her green eyes were lined in a faint amount of kohl and her skin had a dusting of something shimmery. She had put red lip paint on her lips and a bit on her cheeks as well, and the difference was stunning. He could well imagine that with a little sun and a better diet, as well as a few good fucks, she would be a thing of irresistible beauty.

They dined alone in the smaller dining room overlooking the fountained terrace. Her father, evidently, had taken ill; Felicity did not tell him she had specifically told her father not to join them for dinner. The old gentleman, however foolish he could be, had realized his daughter was finally coming to her senses.

Her entire manner was one of a woman who wished for the meal to be dispensed with quickly so as to move on to other things. However much Felipe was enjoying this change in her, he wanted to accommodate her in any way he could. He gladly passed up dessert in favor of finding out what was to happen next.

She took him into the drawing room and closed the doors and asked him to sit on the settee while she played the piano. He listened as she played a piece that began softly and sweetly, but quickly turned dark and passionate. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she poured herself into the melody. Could he feel it? Could he feel the desire dripping from her fingertips as she pounded the keys, longing for them to be him?

She finished the piece and looked at him, her eyes revealing everything in her heart. He rose from the settee and caught her in his arms and kissed her. She swooned against him as his tongue thrust past her innocent lips and plundered her virgin mouth. She melted in his arms. He carried her body from the room, up the stairs, to his bed, kicking the door closed with a loud bang.

Felicity lay panting on the silk bedspread as he ripped off his clothes. His body was hard and taut from a lifetime of riding and working. His skin was soft and pale under his clothes. As he pulled off his trousers, her hand involuntarily reached for him.

Naked in the glowing light of a single candle, he moved to the bed, his eyes locked with her. His ardor was evident in his hard shaft; he wanted her. He went about undressing her with impatience; why did she have to wear so many layers? He thought to himself that from now on, he would just keep her naked.

She was helpless on his bed, made immobile by the desire she could not control and did not understand. He looked down at her, knowing she had never been with a man. His hand reached up between her legs. She did not try to stop him. His fingers encountered something warm and wet and he glanced down. The juice from within her was flowing freely. Nothing could have shocked him more. He raised his hand to his mouth and tasted of her. She groaned deeply, even frantically, and rose up from the bed and kissed him with a passion that drove him over the top. He pressed her down into the bedspread, not caring that it was priceless. He wanted it ruined by her virgin blood. He wanted to see that crimson stain on the Chinese silk so that this night would always be remembered.

"It will hurt," he said to her, speaking in her own language. "I don't mean it to hurt. There is just no other way."

"I know," Felicity returned. She pressed her groin into his, wanting him to take her.

He hesitated. He wanted to pleasure her, to hear her cries of ecstasy before this first time, so she would know it was about more than pain and sacrifice. But he couldn't hold back even a moment longer.

Longing to be tender, Felipe placed his cock at the opening of her vagina and pressed in slowly. The tightness of her overwhelmed him. He had never been with a virgin. He pressed again, hating the look of pain in her eyes. How he wished it could be different. He pressed again, and felt the barrier of her hymen, and secretly asked in prayer that it go swiftly. Then he thrust forward with everything he had and held her as she cried out.

"It's over," he breathed raggedly into her hair.

And then he rode her, closing his eyes as he gave into the most intoxicating feeling he'd ever experienced. He couldn't believe how she felt. An emotion rose up in his chest and he looked down at her face, now so calm and relaxed. He loved her. He watched her face, watched as her brows made a crease just above her nose. Was she enjoying this? Everything in him wanted her to. He wanted her to feel what he felt, know the ecstasy that coupling brought.

"Put your finger between your legs," he said in a hurried tone. "There, just below where your flesh parts. Do you feel it?"

Felicity rubbed the small hard place that had brought her so much distress in the past. "Yes."

"Keep touching it. Don't stop. Give in to whatever pleasure it brings you. God gave that to you to make you want this with me. Do you want it?"

"Yes," she cried. "Yes, I want it, Felipe. It's wonderful."

"Yes. Yes, it is wonderful," he agreed huskily. "And we will do it as often as you wish. And other things. Other wonderful things that only lovers know of."

She wanted to answer him but she couldn't. Her body was engulfed in raging passion. She drove her hips upwards over and over again, taking in the fullness of him, while her finger frantically stroked the hard pearl between her legs. Somewhere in her fevered brain she heard the strains of the gypsy music. She was that dancer now, swirling around him, gyrating her hips against his, all of her sex culminating in one moment in time when she exploded around him, his name screaming from her lips.

"Felipe! Felipe! Oh God!"

He felt the spasms of her orgasm and let go the flood of semen that had tortured him for what seemed an eternity. His seed spilled into her, mixing with the torrent of fluid already in her vagina. He shuddered against her and collapsed on her breasts. She continued moving under him, milking the last of his seed from his sated shaft. Then he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. God, he was tired.

He felt her finger touching the errant curl that was always falling onto his forehead and bothering him. He opened his eyes and looked at her. How young she looked. He could hardly believe she was twenty-two. Perhaps her father had lied.

He wanted to know what had brought this change in her but he was afraid to ask. Perhaps if he inquired too deeply, the magic would be broken and she would go back to being the way she had been before. No, he would let her keep her secret.

The room had grown stiflingly warm and Felipe moved to open the window. The full moon was just appearing, a yellow circle on the horizon. He glanced down to see a light burning at the edge of the forest where it met the river. Then he turned away from the window to join the young English rose who was modestly wiggling her way under the covers.

He blew out the candle and crawled in next to her. A soft breeze stirred the still air, bringing with it the faintest hint of a melody.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she said, listening.

"What?"

"The music."

"You can hear that?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what it is?"

"Yes."

He looked at her doubtingly. "What is it?"

"It's the dance of the gypsy," she said simply.

Felipe stared at her. No, he thought to himself. It couldn't be. Surely she hadn't followed him into the dark last night, watched as he'd….

Her hip gyrated against his thigh in keeping with the beat. She smiled up at him, her green eyes containing some witchery he didn't understand. She sat up, letting the blanket fall from her body. Her arms lifted into the air and she swayed them back and forth.

He watched, mesmerized, as she stood up and began to dance. She moved towards the window, her body silhouetted against the light of the full moon. The strains of the fiddle carried her limbs and the strokes of the guitar moved her hips. She swirled around and around, her long light brown hair flying out from her slender body. Felipe stared at her. She was magnificent.

She fell to the floor, panting. Then she rose up on all fours and crawled towards him like a cat. When she reached the bed, she sat back, waiting for him. The events of the night before came back to him like a sketchy memory and he swung his legs over the side of the bed and set his feet on the floor. She crawled forward, meowing, and swept her hands up his thighs. Then she bent her down over his flaccid penis and began to suck and lick him.

Felipe held her head, not believing this was happening. He loved that it was happening, he just couldn't believe it. She worked his shaft until it was hard again, standing erect and ready between her lips. Then she stood back and looked at him. He knew what she wanted. He fell on his knees in front of her and pressed back the flesh between her legs. Her young, pink pussy lips opened to reveal the flower of her sex. He leaned in and licked the sweet nectar that was pouring out of her. Mixed with his own fluid, it was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. He wanted more. He pressed his lips against her flesh and sucked hungrily at the small hard pearl. His hands held her buttocks, squeezing the soft white flesh greedily. He wanted her again. He wanted her now. But this time, he held himself back.

She began moving against him, cooing softly. Her fingers spread over his head, burying down into his long hair. He listened to her breathing, and knew she was close. He loved doing this to her. Everything about her was warm and fresh and smelled like some kind of exotic fruit. Her legs spread a little, giving him access to the core of her desire. He lapped deeply at the entrance, groaning at the profusion of nectar that flowed from her. He hoped she would come soon. His own cock was throbbing between his legs, longing to be touched. Despite his resolve, he lowered a hand to his shaft and began to stroke it, and worked his tongue deeper into her vagina. The undulations of her hips were becoming faster, wilder, and she was whispering his name over and over again. He held onto her with the other hand, burying his mouth into her yielding flesh.

She yelled with a ferocity that surprised even him. The whole house had to be awake now. She cried like a woman in pain, high pitched, frantic, even fearful that somehow it would devour her. Her body shook and jerked against him. And then her cries softened into gentle, long moans of satisfaction and delight. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. He stood up, the lower half of his face glistening with her juice.

Felipe turned her around and pushed her against the bed. He bent his knees and guided his penis between her legs, up into that tight, supple cave. It closed around him and he put his head back and gave into the pleasure a second time. Her back arched and he ran his hand down her spine all the way to where her butt cheeks parted. He kept going, and laid his thumb against her anus and stroked it. She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes full of disbelief as the ecstasy rose up in her again.

Felipe too couldn't believe it. He'd known several women, and none of them had ever moved him this way. His head fell to one side as his shaft drove deeper and deeper inside of her. His entire body was awash in the most intoxicating sensations. Over and over he groaned and panted as his hips rocked into her. She pressed back against him, driving him deeper. Her lips curled back like an animal as she looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes barely open.

And then she put down her head on the bed and bucked wildly against him, screaming into the sheets. She rose up on her toes and bent her knees and pounded against him. He held her hips and stared down at her vagina as it contracted around his shaft. Juice poured out around her. He thrust again and again and again and then yelled at the ceiling as his semen erupted violently out of him. His body continued pumping, pumping, pumping. He jerked out of her, grasping his shrinking cock that somehow felt as though it was still coming. He stood where he was, unable to move. The woman before him turned slowly, her face softly radiant and thoroughly sated.

She went to the decanter for a drink of water. Tentatively, not sure of his legs, Felipe joined her, sharing her glass. They moved together to stand before the window, letting the soft breeze cool their heated bodies.

From the edge of the forest, a fiddle played a haunted tune. Felicity listened to it for a moment, then turned and smiled mischievously at Felipe. He stared gapingly at her, understanding.

"Shut that damned window!" he exclaimed in perfect English even while he did it himself.

Felicity giggled delightedly as he chased her back to the bed. She fell with him onto the cool sheets and held him to her. As she felt the warmth of his hands on her skin, she sent a secret thought out into the night.

Thank you, gypsy. Thank you for the dance.

She had no way of knowing that Felipe was thinking the very same thing.