I Danced

All people involved are over 18 years of age.

*

There are times when you meet someone and you just know, instantly, that there's sexual chemistry. That something clicks, that potential exists, and you know you haven't seen the last of that person.

When I shook Travis's hand last night, I knew. He's a close friend's younger brother, and I used to crush on him back in the day. But, taking our 2 year age difference and the whole 'sister/friend' thing into consideration, it was never gonna happen in high school.

He's not as cute as he was then - he's got this whole Grizzly Adams beard thing happening - but I was still attracted, seeing him last night for the first time in a dozen years.

We shook hands at the bar, the last stop of his sister's bachelorette party. I continued carousing with the girls, but managed to give him a few looks of intent as the night went on.

That's how it starts, isn't it? The look...the eye contact...the silent acknowledgement. It's all a big dance, with each partner owning a distinct role, a distinct set of moves to execute.

He was planning on partying out of town with his friends after the bar closed, but we all agreed that his sister's apartment was a much better locale. With two cases of beer from the bar under his arm, he joined us on our party bus.

At some point, he took a seat next to me. Move executed. I took the bottle from his hand and downed a few slugs. Move made. My hand rested on his leg; when a sober friend raised her eyebrows at me, I shrugged. Alcohol can be blamed for many a thing. Soon enough, his hand rested upon my knee.

It's so fun, this parying back and forth, this execution of moves and turns, seeing how the next will be carried out. All steps lead to the next inevitable stage, each person knowing what is coming but still playing by the rules.

Once at my friend's - his sister's - apartment, I joined him for a smoke on the patio, glad we were the only smokers in the group. He gallantly lit my smoke, and I cupped his hands in mine while he did so.

"Your hands are cold," he said.

"Yeah, I'm freezing out here."

"Well, come here then. I'll warm you up."

We leaned against the wall, his arm around me, my head and hands buried against his broad chest. We talked of random shit as we smoked, knowing we weren't done dancing yet.

I used the drawstring on his sweatshirt to trace the letters on the front of it. "What are you doing?" he said, looking down at me.

As I looked up...I knew. This was my last move.

So we kissed. And kissed and kissed and kissed, hidden by the partially closed blinds to the apartment. And then we kissed some more.

His hands went into my hair, cupping my face. We kissed until I started to moan into his mouth and heard him return my moans. His hands travelled around my back, cupping my ass, pulling me into him. His hands grazed my breasts, his mouth kissed down my open neck.

His hands then moved to the front of my capri pants, and found enough slack in the waistline to slide down the front of them. He moved into my panties and began to stroke and probe, all the while still kissing me.

He found me already wet, and used his finger to part my lips. As his finger slid inside of me, I wrapped my arms tight around his neck and held on tight, one leg wrapped up around him. I started whispering in his ear, moaning, telling him not to stop, telling him how good it felt, swearing at him.

"Fuck...fuck...I'm gonna cum...you're gonna make me cum..."

And he did. It flooded out of me, drenching his hand, my panties, my pants. He moaned in appreciation.

"You just came all over my hand," he said in awe. "I want to taste you. I want to take care of you. Let me taste you, please...I'll be so good to you."

"You just were," I responded, as I made him stop stroking me and pull out his hand. I lit a cigarette to help calm my breathing. "I'm not normally one to leave you hanging, but I can't return the favor here. I want to, but I'm sorry, I just can't. We're too visible, it's too risky."

His hands went into my hair again, pulling me in for another kiss. "You're so cute," he said. "So yummy. Look...my hand just fits your face perfectly. Beautiful."

I started to worry, knowing that his sister - my friend - the bride-to-be - would object to our union. But as soon as we'd part, we'd go back for another kiss. He wanted to take it further, but as I laughingly said, his sister would object if we put her second bedroom to use. As I was staying with friends, we had no other options to continue our fun that night.

He told me he saw me looking at him during the night. I told him I saw him looking back. It's no fun if the dance moves you make aren't noticed and returned.

I'll be back there in a month for the actual wedding, this time with a hotel room for the wedding night. This could get interesting...