Dance in the Rain

Bobby and I sat quietly and waited, watching the buzz of people on the beach.

"Irena?" My mom called out as she walked towards us.

Bobby stood and reached his hand down to help me up, just as he'd done before when we moved from the sand to the grass.

"Mom, I'd like you to meet Bobby," I said nervously.

"Nice to meet you, Bobby."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am." Bobby replied politely, reaching out to shake my mom's hand.

I watched, quiet and anxious. My mom glanced at me, then back at Bobby.

"So, Bobby, tell me about yourself."

"I was born and raised in Cheyenne, Wyoming. I went to vocational school for welding and work freelance on large equipment repair. On the side I compete in mixed martial arts. I'm here in Connecticut for my first pro fight with Bellator, Ma'am."

My mom frowned slightly, "Why do you fight?"

Bobby tilted his head and considered, "I'm good at it, ma'am. I can be a welder all my life, but I can only be a fighter when I'm young. I don't want to let the chance pass to see how good I can be."

"Can you give me a moment with my daughter, Bobby?" My mom asked.

"Yes ma'am." Bobby nodded and wandered off, within sight but out of hearing range.

"He seems like a nice young man, Irena. But there is no reason to rush back into dating."

"I know, but I don't know. I don't want to never see him again." I said.

"I want you to be happy, jellybean. Just... Set your boundaries. If he deserves you, he'll be patient."

"Ok, Mom. Thanks." I hugged her tight.

She went over to Bobby and talked with him a little bit more, then waved to me and left. Bobby came back to stand next to me.

"Your mom suggested that I take you over to a fair that's set up in Montville. I can take you on my bike, or you can drive, or we can go separately?" Bobby suggested.

"Do you mean take me on a motorcycle?" I asked, stomach tingling.

Bobby nodded. "That's one reason I stuck around for the storm. Once it started raining it was already coming down too hard to ride safely."

I felt a thrill of excitement. "I'd like to ride, but I'm afraid I'm not dressed for it?"

I had the idea that people should wear boots and a complete leather suit when they rode a motorcycle, to avoid road rash in case of the inevitable accident. But, also, it looked so fun when I watched people speeding along on them, completely underdressed.

"You'll be fine," Bobby assured me, looking over my bikini and skirt. "I'll drive slow and careful and you can wear my jacket and helmet."

I considered, but I already knew my mind was made up the instant he mentioned a bike. "I want to ride with you," I said.

I followed Bobby across the parking lot. His bike was a big solid looking one with a slightly raised passenger seat that even had a back rest. I looked for the brand but didn't see anything obvious.

"What kind is it?" I asked curiously.

"It's a Honda Gold Wing. I got a good deal on it because the engine case was cracked and the guy who owned it didn't want to pay to get it fixed. It was easy enough for me to TIG weld it, though."

Bobby opened up the box behind the passenger seat and pulled out a jacket and helmet and handed them to me. He also pulled out a shirt and jeans that he put on over his swim trunks. Lastly, he slipped on a pair of sneakers with no socks.

I put on the jacket, which was large on me, and zipped it up. It smelled of cologne and exhaust and I inhaled deeply.

Bobby walked over and fastened his helmet on me, checking the fit. My pelvis pulsed with arousal and excitement and nervousness. I felt like a child all over again, with Bobby taking such care to ensure my safety. It was nice to feel taken care of.

"I get on first, then you can climb on, ok?" Bobby said as he closed up the top box.

I nodded and waited until he got on the bike and settled in.

"Ok, just hop on behind me now." He held his hand out.

I took his hand and stepped up onto the foot support and swung my leg over. Then I settled in behind him. I felt really secure, actually. I didn't have to hold on to him because the back rest made me feel confident that I wouldn't fall off. But I wanted to hold him. I reached forward and wrapped my arms around Bobby's chest.

"Is it alright if I hold you?" I asked, belatedly.

"Yes, I like it." Bobby confirmed, and then he bounced his pecs in my hands. I squeezed them reflexively.

"Oh, sorry!" I loosened my grip.

"You can squeeze if you want," Bobby assured me, bouncing his pecs again.

Then, he started the motorcycle and headed out of the parking lot. My clit twitched eagerly as Bobby picked up speed on the road. We weren't going fast, just keeping pace with traffic, but it felt much faster than in a car.

I didn't feel the wind in my hair or on my arms or torso, as that was all covered. But my skirt was bunched up to my knees and the wind whipped at my lower legs and my hands.

Under the heavy leather jacket, my nipples hardened. I was glad that Bobby had sat with me in the rain, had easily accepted my bizarre request for my mother's approval, and was now taking me on my first ever motorcycle ride. And I had almost just stayed in bed today.

The ride to the fair was about twenty minutes. By the end of it, I was feeling more aroused then I thought possible. It was just a motorcycle, right? Or was it Bobby's pecs that were doing it?

Bobby parked his bike and we got off, which was a little harder than getting on had been, but I made it work. I handed over his helmet and jacket and he put them back in the top box and locked it. He took my hand and we walked into the fair.

It was late and the families were leaving as the teenagers and young couples started showing up. I felt a bit underdressed in my bikini top and long skirt, but there a couple other women just as scantily clad, so I figured I was fine.

"What rides do you like?" Bobby asked me as he walked over to the ticket booth.

"I like them all, but my favorite is Round Up." I told him.

Bobby grinned as he bought tickets. I considered offering to pay, but he didn't leave an opening. I figured I'd pay for something later. Not that I had any money. My ex had been supporting me financially. He had wanted a housewife and I'd been happy to play that role.

When I'd decided to leave, I'd applied for a credit card and got one with a really high interest rate and a $300 limit. It was enough to buy a bus ticket home, but I had no way to pay that debt now.

It was time to start looking for a way to support myself, I thought. I'd go job hunting tomorrow. With a fine arts degree, the options were pretty much low paying retail work or low paying restaurant work. I was sure I could find something that would pay enough to at least move out of my parents' house, though. The decision felt liberating, and I wondered why I hadn't made it before.

Bobby and I rode all the rides and I forgot everything that had been bothering me. We careened around the Round Up. We spun our teacup like maniacs. We smooshed into each other on the Caterpillar. We screamed on the Drop Tower. We raised our arms and whooped on the Swing Boat. We laughed on the Star Flyer.

When we finally ran out of tickets, we checked out the games.

"Oh, let's do the water pistols!" I nudged Bobby.

I did that now, casually touching him and he casually touched me. We were making total relationship progress.

I read the sign and unzipped my hip bag, ready to pay for this one thing. I looked up, my credit card in my hand, to see that Bobby was already paying. He flashed a satisfied smirk at me. I laughed.

I beat him in the Water Chase, but I think he may have let me win. I got a cute tiny stuffed fish for a prize. It came with a clip, and I hooked it to my hip bag.

"Beat the high score and win a giant prize for the lady!" The guy manning the punching machine called as we walked by.

Bobby stopped and grinned at me, "do you want a giant stuffed animal?" He asked.

I didn't need a stuffed toy. But I thought maybe Bobby needed to win me one. I smiled at him, "only if you win."

Bobby handed over $5 for one hit. He stepped up close, turned his hips and threw a wide swinging punch that came at the bag parallel to the ground. The target snapped up and the machine sounded an alarm.

'999' read the score.

"Did you break it?" I asked.

Bobby laughed, "no way. These things are all about the angle, speed, and location of the hit, not the power of the punch. I didn't hit it very hard."

"Congratulations!" The man said, grinning as he handed Bobby a giant stuffed dog, which Bobby handed over to me.

"How will someone else win now that you maxed the score?" I asked.

"I'll just reset it," the fair worker winked as he did something in the back of the machine. The score read '000.' The guy came around front and threw a punch a lot like Bobby's at the target. The score lit up '775.' He nodded, "that's good to get some action, but probably no one will beat that tonight."

Bobby made a show of pulling out another $5.

"Oh no, you got your prize already," he laughed, and we laughed too.

It was awkward to carry the giant stuffed animal around, but I felt pretty proud of it, which was silly because I hadn't earned it. We played a few more games, and then headed back to Bobby's bike.

I didn't want the day to end, and I could tell Bobby didn't either. But the fair was closing down, and we had to leave. Bobby handed me the jacket and helmet and we stuffed the dog into the top box. It didn't quite fit, but Bobby had some bungee cords that he wrapped around it.

"That looks ridiculous," I laughed.

The giant stuffed dog head and arms were peeking out the back of his motorcycle.

"I like it." Bobby said. "I may have to get one of my own and make it a permanent fixture."

My stomach fluttered as I looked at his angular face, at his black eyes framed by long black eyelashes, his short black hair spiking up. His smiling eyes and bright laugh had caught me.

"And what does my face make you think of?" Bobby asked, a reminder of our time in the rain.

"You have the face like a jagged stone, with your long nose and sharp cheekbones. Your eyes are cutting and focused, like obsidian that can be chipped into the sharpest of blades." I told him.

"Hmm... Arms like canyons, hands like trees, and a face of stone, is that right?"

I nodded, "I want to paint you in a landscape."

I took his elbow and bent his arm up and his wrist back so that his bicep and hand framed his face. I turned his chin to give him a slight profile. Yes, like that. A canyon under a rocky cliff with a tall, tall tree spreading its branches above.

Heat spread through my chest as I considered him. He was beautiful. And he thought his body was just a tool, just deserving such simple and easy compliments as 'hot' or 'sexy.' No, his body was a temple to nature, and ode to masculinity.

I leaned into the frame in which I'd placed his face and kissed the side of his mouth, gently. I held my lips to his for a beat, then retreated. Bobby didn't move, frozen in the position I'd placed him in.

"I guess we better go," I said, breaking the spell.

Bobby dropped his arm and gazed at me. I could feel the heat from his eyes, feel his need to pull me close and kiss me. But he didn't. He held himself until the urge passed, and then he strapped his helmet to my head.

I pulled the jacket on, and Bobby zipped it up, his hand pressing lightly into my boobs as he zipped past my chest. My nipples tightened in response. Bobby hopped on to his bike and I climbed on behind him. Again, I slid my hands around to his pecs, and again he bounced them for me.

Riding in the dark was more thrilling than the earlier ride had been. The warm, humid air swirled around us. I wished my face was free to feel the wind, but at the same time I was thankful for the protection of the helmet and the jacket.

The beach was closed when we got there, the gate across the parking lot was locked.

"Looks like you're not getting your car tonight." Bobby said. "I can take you to your place... Or mine."

My clit tingled.

"Take me to your place." I said before I could second guess myself.

Bobby turned his motorcycle around in the road and we were flying through the night again. Fifteen minutes later Bobby parked in front of a hotel. He un-bungeed the giant dog and I put his jacket and helmet in the box. Then, we headed inside.

The hotel room was neat and organized. I took off my hip bag and dropped it on the TV stand. Bobby sat on the bed, and I sat next to him and huddled under his arm, much the same way we'd sat on the beach earlier.

"I have to get to sleep by 2am." Bobby said. "Want to watch TV for an hour?"

"Sure."

We watched a show quietly on Hulu.

"Thank you for today," I said. "I really enjoyed spending time with you."

"I enjoyed it too. I want to spend more time with you."

"When is your fight?" Being in his hotel room really brought home the reality to me that this was a temporary fling. When he had his fight, he'd go home, and our time would be up.

"It's in three days, on August 13^th. But I can stay in Connecticut longer. After this, it will be at least six months before my next fight. All my welding work is freelance, and I'll have the money from the fight, so there's no reason for me to leave right away." Bobby explained.

But would there be a reason for him to stay? I thought but didn't say.

"Don't you need to focus on your fight for these three days? That seems very soon." I frowned.

Bobby shrugged. "I have to train for a couple hours a day, and I have to not eat very much, and that's all I have to do these couple days. It would be nice to have something to think about other than this weekend being either the beginning or the end of my fighting career."

"Would it be OK if, one of these days, I could paint you?" I asked, tentatively.

"Sure."

I wanted to stroke my hands over his perfect body. Why didn't I? There was no reason not to, no reason at all.

"What makes you angry?" I asked, instead of giving in to the urge to touch.

"Um... I suppose I get angry when someone I trust lies to me. Or when someone I care about is hurt." Bobby said, his muscles tightening with some remembered pain.

"What do you do, when your angry?" I frowned. Did he hit things, the way my ex had?

"I usually go to the gym and work out. That gives my body something to do while my brain figures things out. Keeps me from acting without thinking first." Bobby said thoughtfully, I could feel his muscles relax. "Are you angry?" Bobby asked me.

"No, not me." I said.

"You seemed angry, in the storm, before we talked."

I thought about it. Had I been angry? "I guess I was angry at myself." I admitted.

And it made me angry that I had been mad at myself and not my ex. He was the one who deserved it, not me. I should be angry at him, but somehow, I couldn't quite manage it.

"I just got out of a bad relationship," I said. "I'm still working through some feelings about it."

"I see," Bobby said, quietly.

And I thought he probably did see. He saw how we might be the right people for each other, but we'd met at the wrong time. Rebound relationships never work, they say. You need to spend some time alone between relationships, not just jump from guy to guy.

It all sounded very reasonable, until you met someone at the wrong time, at the wrong moment when every conventional wisdom says you should let that opportunity pass.

"I don't want to let this opportunity pass." I said. "I think we could have something real here, do you?"

"Yes, I do." Bobby agreed. "I can give you time if you need it. But I want to try for something real, with you."

"Time... How much time is enough? How long do you wait, for the storm to pass? Or should we just dance in the rain?"

"I always liked the quote." Bobby smiled. "I'll dance, if you want to."

I turned my body towards his and brushed my hand over his chest lightly before resting it on a pec. I reached up and kissed the corner or his mouth, the same place I'd kissed before.

"I want to dance." I said.

Bobby wrapped his other arm around me. He kissed me, full on the lips. His mouth felt soft and delicious against mine. My boobs pressed into his chest as we kissed. Our mouths opened slightly, just a little. We shared our breath, but not our tongues, not yet.

Bobby ran his hands over my back and shoulders and then slid one up to support my head and the other slid down to press my lower back, his calloused palm was rough against my bare skin. I folded my knees under my butt to align myself with Bobby's embrace. My hand was pressed between us, still clutching at his chest. My other hand wrapped around his back, pulling him towards me.

I moved my mouth away from his lips and kissed his nose, his forehead, the tip of his ear, then down to the lobe, and then his neck. I lingered on his neck, kissing it gently and licking, enjoying how he stretched his chin upwards for me, giving me access. I pressed my body into him, needing to be close, as close as possible.

I ran my hands down to the hem of his shirt and pulled at it, picking my way under the edge. I pressed my palms flat into the skin of his abdomen, the feel of firm muscles under supple skin sent shivers through me. I pushed my palms upward, running my hands over his chest, grazing past his nipples, then out the neck of his t-shirt. I pushed the shirt over his head and down so that his upper arms were pulled back.

Bobby let his arms be constricted, but we both knew he was stronger than his shirt. It was bondage of belief, not in truth. But he let me bind him, chest open and exposed. I leaned back, hating the absence of his warmth but needing to see.

I got up and turned the TV off and the lights on. I stared at his chest, the bold outline of his abs, his well-defined chest muscles, his pert brown nipples, the sandy hue of his skin... I looked up into Bobby's black eyes, where I was reflected clearly.

"What do you see?" Bobby asked.

"I see the dunes of the Sahara, rolling waves of sand shifting over mountains."

I placed my hand on his chest, one finger tapping his sternum lightly. I let it fall down, follow the crease under his pec, then wound my way around an ab and back to the middle.

"The lone wanderer walks the dry lands, lost. She is thirsty, alone, and afraid. Will she find an oasis at the end of her journey?"

I ran my finger down the middle of his abs and hooked it into the top of Bobby's jeans. I popped open the button and pulled down his zipper. Then I looked back into his obsidian eyes.

"How far should we go, tonight?" I asked, feeling unsure.

"As far as you want," Bobby said.

Beneath my hand I felt his cock straining at his swim trunks, yearning for more. But Bobby didn't let it have control; he would deny it pleasure if I asked. My ex would have called me a tease and berated me for getting this far if I wasn't sure I wanted to go all the way.

I leaned my cheek against Bobby's chest, feeling his rhythmic breathing.

"Do you have condoms?"

"Yeah, I have a couple in the top pocket of my suitcase. Also, I'm clean, no STD's. Have to be, to be a fighter - blood sport you know."

"I'm clean too." I said. "And I have an IUD."

My ex had wanted me to use an IUD until we were married. He said it was the best kind of birth control, no hormones, and no physical barriers. I'd just accepted it, as I had everything he'd wanted. But I wasn't thinking about him now.

I ran my hand over Bobby's side. He still kept his arms pulled back where I'd put them with his shirt. He didn't even try to touch me, to push past the artificial boundary I'd set.

I took a deep breath. The storm in my head calmed.

I pulled back again and moved my hands down to the waistband of Bobby's pants and trunks. I dug my fingers under the fabric and pulled. Bobby lifted his hips off the bed, letting the fabric pull away easily down his legs.