Dance Hall Ch. 01

August 1939

She recognised the drum beat even before she opened the doors. The sound was muffled, but unmistakable. The rhythm heated her blood. The demanding line was almost a heartbeat, beating life into the rest of the instruments, and she felt her own heartbeat accelerate in response and her face flush with heat.

The Benny Goodman tune was now a standard in all the dance halls, but it didn't matter to her how many times she heard it played. 'Sing, Sing, Sing' just made her want to dance.

The band was on fire tonight, she could hear it already. Grabbing Greta's hand, she pushed open the doors and entered the dance hall; it had been too long since she had danced. She had felt indifferent before coming, but as she walked in time with the music, she felt that elation that had been so lacking in her life recently.

"Come, There's a table free," Greta called, her voice loud to be heard over the music. She was already dragging Margot along behind her. "Someone's sure to buy us drinks and ask us to dance."

"No," she said, "I love this song. I just want to watch the dancers for a moment. I'll come find you soon."

Margot pulled her hand free and walked towards the edge of the dance floor, closer to the band. She had suspected that numbers would be down considering that war was now imminent; everyone knew it was only a matter of time and were just waiting on an official response.

It was exactly the opposite though. People were prepared for what was coming and were determined to enjoy themselves in these last days. It felt jubilant and hedonistic. The champagne flowed and the music played loud.

The swirl and flurry of skirts was a whirlwind as the dancers kept time to the swing music. Women, seemingly as light as air, were spun to a point almost out of control and their lifted skirts displayed thighs, garters and panties with each turn.

She had missed this, she thought as she watched the men in their sharp suits. They were all similarly attired, three pieces in sombre colours, most with jackets removed and sleeves rolled up.

The women however were so varied. Florals, pastels or bold designs, they were a riot of colour as they passed her. Some had short bobbed hair, similar to hers, set in finger waves which showcased the long lines of their necks. Others wore their long hair free or twisted at the base of their neck in an elegant chignon.

The bandleader was dancing on his podium as he drew his musicians through the melody. The drummer was a demon with his sticks, keeping the tempo going at a speed that made the dancers sweat. He was clearly seeking control as he began to repeat the opening beat of the song, turning it into an impromptu solo. He had an animal energy and could barely stay in his seat.

The dancers noticed that the drummer had taken control of the music, cheering as he started his extended solo. Margot shivered a little, a thrilling chase down her spine as she watched him. She had missed the thrill of being here again.

The atmosphere in the hall seemed to be straining at some intangible, pulsating boundary. Excitement reigned and her heated blood raced through her veins, pumped by the hammering of her heartbeat. There was an air of expectation so thick it was palpable. The atmosphere in the dance hall seemed heavy with sex and need. Hands were running over bodies as the dancers moved through their steps.

"Sorry, this place is so crowded. Friday nights are quite busy, aren't they?" She felt an arm brush her elbow as a giant of a man settled into the space beside her.

Turning to answer him, she noticed plenty of space around them. She also noticed emerald eyes boring into her. Fringed with the longest, thickest lashes she felt an immediate surge of jealousy followed by an immediate surge of arousal.

Fair haired and broad shouldered, he resembled some long-departed Norse chieftain. He was breathtakingly beautiful, and her words almost died in her throat. Coughing a little, she regained her composure.

"That's ok. You're right, it's very crowded tonight," she said smiling, eyebrow raised as she waved her hand with a flourish, indicating the vacant space around them.

It was his turn to smile wickedly as he registered her tone. She had recognised his game and called him out on it.

"Well, it certainly seemed crowded earlier," he said looking around with mock confusion. "Let's call it a happy accident, seeing as how I'm now talking to you!"

He certainly was charming, and she wasn't disappointed at the prospect of spending a bit of time with him.

"My name's Thomas, ahh, Tom. Only my grandmother calls me Thomas, and only ever when I'm in trouble," he said with a chuckle. His laugh was musical, but deep and gravelly. It sent a jolt through her threatening her carefully crafted poise.

"I'm Margot, pleased to meet you, Tom," she answered with an outstretched hand, and what she hoped was at least some decorum.

"The pleasure is most certainly mine, Margot." Tom grasped her hand and raised it to his lips. They felt warm and soft on her skin.

Margot snatched her hand away, flustered. She didn't want to let on that he was already having an effect on her, but judging by the smile on his face, she suspected he knew.

"Do you like to dance?" she asked him to deflect attention away from her flustered state, but he was determined to prolong the torture, enjoying her discomposure.

"Always," he said with an outstretched hand, "Shall we?"

He moved so swiftly; she had no opportunity to protest. Margot never asked men to dance, and after so long away, she would be clumsy in the presence of this demigod. He grasped her hand regardless and pulled her onto the floor.

With her hand in his, he turned her into a spin which he ended by pulling her close to his chest, while his other arm snaked around her back. She was pressed against that wall of hard flesh, the heat of which shocked her. She could feel the length of his thickening cock as it began to stir. Her head snapped up; his green eyes smouldered as one side of his lip began to curl into a sinful smile.

"Proximity," he said by way of an explanation. "That, and your perfume."

Before she had a chance to reply he propelled her into the next dance. Tom was surprisingly light on his feet for a man of his size. He had natural rhythm and was a confident leader. He had a habit of grasping her closer than was socially accepted but she was losing herself in his arms, and she wasn't about to complain.

"Okay, I need to rest now," she laughed, flushed as the song ended. "Excuse me for a moment."

Margot was breathing hard as she walked toward the restroom. The dances had been energetic, but that wasn't the only source of her breathlessness. After being held captive in Tom's arms, she was incredibly aroused. Looking back at her reflection in the mirror she saw her flushed cheeks and the slight sheen which glistened on her skin.

She smoothed down some errant strands of short brown hair and reapplied the crimson lipstick. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled with satisfaction at what she saw. Turning to the side she took in the way the shimmery black fabric of her dress glided over the swell of her breasts and hips. She looked good and she had seen the look of appreciation and arousal in Tom's eyes.

She felt the excitement grow as she pondered where this night would lead. With no one else in the restroom she swiftly slid one hand under her skirt and into the waistband of her panties. She found the slick wetness between her thighs and shuddered, just a little bit. She recovered herself quickly as Greta danced into the restroom.

"Margot! You vamp! You have struck gold there."

Greta laughed, eyeing Margot in the mirror, then her voice softened. "He's lucky to have your attention, you deserve some happiness. Let's go and find him, and if you disappear suddenly, I'll know why!"

Margot smiled, the flush still marking her cheeks and her scent on her fingers as they left the restroom to find him again in the crowd. Her eyes scanned the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. Frustration gnawed at her as she continued to look for him. The evening had previously held such promise, but now she just felt bitter disappointment.

"He's not here," Margot said, her voice dropping. "I think I might just go home."

She no longer wanted to stay here. Her mood had plummeted, she would be bad company. She began her goodbyes when a smile began to spread across Greta's face.

"I see your man over at that table trying to get your attention."

Margot looked in the direction she was pointing to see a smiling Tom beginning to cross the floor to her. Greta pressed a kiss to each cheek.

"Have fun" Greta whispered as she returned to her own table.

"You weren't thinking of leaving, were you?" Tom asked. "I've ordered a bottle for us."

She followed him to the table he had claimed, and he held out a chair for her.

The waiter arrived at the same time and presented him with a chilled bottle. He poured a little in Tom's glass to taste.

"Perfect," he said, and the waiter filled both their glasses. Raising a glass to her he said, "To new friends."

The look in his eyes was so erotic, and there was little 'friendliness' in it. She flushed hot again and gulped down her champagne.

"Oh, that was not ladylike at all. I apologise" she said with a laugh, attempting to diffuse the tension.

He wasn't going to make it easy for her. He took her glass from her hand to refill, but first he raised her hand to his lips. He pressed them to the back of her hand and inhaled her scent, recognising that tell-tale sign of her arousal. His eyes blazed green fire.

"And here I was thinking you'd be at least a little unladylike," he said in a low voice, barely audible over the band. "I believe I am correct. Don't change a thing!"

He eventually granted mercy and steered the conversation toward less sensual topics. She smiled her gratitude and they settled into a relaxed camaraderie, finishing the bottle. Margot's head swam a little from the champagne and suggested they get some air.

As she stood, Margot felt her garter snap and her stocking start to slip. She tried to hold the stocking in place as they walked, and as soon as they were outside, she cursed in annoyance. If he was shocked by her language, he didn't show it.

"Goddamn garter, nothing but a bloody nuisance! Turn around for a minute while I try to fix this," she said.

He didn't move muscle.

"Please allow me to help," he said.

Margot's jaw dropped as he stepped closer drawing his hand up the outside of her thigh, taking her skirt with it. Unable to speak she watched as he bent over and slid the clasp of the garter over the stocking top to secure it.

"Better?" he asked.

It wasn't just the champagne that made her tongue feel thick and clumsy. She was lost for words and fighting a losing battle with arousal. She threaded her arms around his neck and closed her mouth over his. He let her have this moment as she teased his mouth open with her tongue which then swept inside. He tasted of the wine they had just shared. It was heady and delicious. With restraint, he pulled away and took her hand. Without a word he led her to a darkened corner of the garden.

"Do you want me?" he asked simply, as he placed a hand on each side of her head. She nodded silently.

"I need to kiss you. May I?" She nodded as his fierce eyes burned into her, searing her almost to her bones.

Without warning his mouth claimed hers roughly. He forced her lips open and invaded her with his tongue. His mouth was hot, wet and urgent as he raided hers. His hands clawed into her hair, ruining the painstakingly artful style. She didn't care at all.

She gloried in his heat, his scent, his taste. They each filled her imagination and left no room for anything else. The sensations he provoked were carnal and raw. She could feel her inhibitions desert her one by one. She had no desire to be cautious or moderate.

The kiss seemed to be never ending, and when he pulled away from her, she was panting, eyes wide with lust. His fingers freed themselves from the snarls he had created in her hair and slid low, following the natural curvature of her spine.

"You are so beautiful," he said in a low, strained voice, "and you feel so good."

He cupped her full ass and squeezed. Hard. She didn't cry out, but rather growled low in her throat. That was a sound that she had never made in her life. He rubbed his hands in circles on her ass cheeks. She moaned. He drew his hand back and spanked her ass once.

She sucked in her breath and groaned into his mouth. He was drawing the notes of a melody from her; a melody that she didn't even recognise. Her body was an instrument and he was playing her perfectly.

Tightening his grip on her ass, Tom drew her against him. His cock was hard and straining in his trousers. She moaned again and resisted the urge to grind herself against him.

Tom, on the other hand displayed no such restraint as he began to press against her. Feeling the full length of his cock, she placed a hand between their bodies, feeling that hardness through his trousers. He broke off their kiss, sucking through his teeth as she continued to stroke him. The heat he was emanating was incredible.

"I want to taste your cock now. I have to see you," she whispered, fumbling with his belt.

"Not now," he growled.

Roughly, he pushed her hands away and started to draw his own up her thighs. He kicked her feet apart with his foot and nudged a knee between her legs. He kept pushing that knee further until she was straddling his thigh.

She had to resist the urge to rub herself against him. She didn't want to ruin his trousers, but she knew it was too late already and she was soaking him almost to his skin. She moaned, thrusting her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy down hard on his thigh. It would be so easy to come. Margot was already on fire from the intensity of his kiss.

She felt him trail his mouth along her throat to her collarbone as he settled his hands on her hips. All she had to do was continue this rhythm, follow this beat and she would sing. Long and loud, but not yet, not yet, not yet she told herself over and over, like a mantra. She didn't want this moment to end.

She tried to break free of his grasp. He tightened his grip. She tried to stop the motion. Tom rocked her hips back and forth on his thigh with his strong hands. He was relentless and he was going to push her on. The edge of the cliff was up ahead, and she was going to plummet soon.

"No, I can't..." she started, but her words failed her as she felt the ripples begin.

He increased his tempo, the friction increasing. She felt her belly tighten. Her breasts were flattened against his chest and her diamond hard nipples were drilling their path deeper. Her breathing became shallower and her moans lowered.

"Oh, shit...Oh, shit! No, please not yet. Ohh ... This feels so good. Please. Not. Yet. Oh please, yes. Yes," her fervent whispers becoming louder and raggedly incoherent.

She threw her head back and started to circle her hips on his thigh. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the building wave. She gripped his shoulders in her hands and sunk her nails into his jacket. Movements growing quicker, her orgasm was her sole purpose. He was still rocking her hips, but she had taken control of the rhythm and was grinding her soaking pussy faster and faster.

Her head fell back as the sensation grew, blocking out the music coming from the hall, the sounds of the night and the sounds of anyone who may have been listening on the other side of the hedge. None of it mattered. She was at the centre of a swirling symphony, her music growing louder as she neared her release.

With a final cry, her belly clenched, and she was hurled from the peak of the wave as her orgasm ripped through her. She dug her nails further into his shoulders, but if she had hurt him, he gave no indication. The walls of her pussy spasmed repeatedly, as though there was something to grip. She came hard. As she opened her eyes, she found Tom's own wide and his mouth open in awe.

"Margot, you are an amazing gift. You are so free. I am so thankful to have met you."

She was too exhausted to do more that mumble something unintelligible which she matched his words, but she too felt thanks at having met this beautiful man. She rearranged her clothing and Tom blotted at his leg with a handkerchief and adjusted his belt, a rueful smile on his face.

"Well, I guess going back inside is out of the question. Your hair is not fit to be seen in public," he said with a laugh as she reached up to smooth the errant locks. "Would you like to come back to my apartment to clean up? It's not far."

She saw though that excuse, linking her arm through his. "I would love to come back to your apartment."