Save The Last Dance

“Relax, Kelly,” he said gently. “There’s nobody watching. Nobody at all. Nobody will laugh and here’s nothing to be afraid of.”

She took a deep breath.

He must have felt it. “I promise,” he said.

She stopped trembling, squeezed his hand.

“OK,” she said.

“OK, yourself,” he said gently, “we’re going to take just one step. Only one. And you don’t have to think about it; all you have to do is let me lead. Just follow me, allow me to guide you.”

Knowing he couldn’t see her on the patio, she nodded anyway.

“Listen to the music,” he said. “Listen to the beat. 1-2-3... 1-2-3... 1-2-3... We’ll take our timing from that.”

She listened. For the first time, timing and beat seemed to make sense.

“OK,” Jonas said. “I’m going to move, in time to the music. 1-2-3... 1-2-3... All you have to do is hang on to me and keep in the same position. I’ll be leading and you’ll get some warning of where we’re going from my hands.

“I’m going to take a step forward with my left foot. It’ll be in time to the music, so you’ll know when it’s coming on the ‘1’. As I step forward, you step back with your right foot. Just one step. Feel my hand.”

With that, she felt his hand press back against hers as he took a smooth step forward. Not expecting much of herself, she stepped back. She was surprised when he stopped, surprised she hadn’t tripped over non-existent shoelaces or something.

“So far, so good, yes?”

“Yes.”

“OK, now I’m going to do the same thing, take one step forward, but then I’m going to slide my right foot forward and to the side. Just follow along. 1-2-3... 1-2-3...”

He seemed so certain; it seemed so clear. She let herself be guided. It was an odd feeling; none of her boyfriends had ever been able to lead properly. It was especially odd dressed in a sarong instead of a dress or formal gown.

But she started to see how much fun it could be.

He stopped. Kelly could see his silhouette against the stars.

“Of course, if we only go in one direction,” Jonas said, “we’d wind up against a wall or — in this case — in the water. So, now we do the same thing, but in reverse. We just moved up and over to make two sides of a box. Now, from where we are, I’m going to take a step back and slide left. You take one step forward and then one to your right. Let’s try it. 1-2-3...”

Two steps – two steps more than Kelly had ever accomplished without embarrassment.

She could smell the flowers around the patio.

She could smell Jonas, soap and masculine aroma.

She was suddenly aware that she had nothing on under her sarong but panties and that Jonas’ chest was entirely bare.

“Now,” he said, “four sides of the whole box, all four steps.” He waited for a moment. “Listen to the beat, Kelly. 1-2-3...”

And they were off. Kelly suddenly felt as graceful as she ever had. It was working!

“See?” he said. “Dead simple.”

Her cheek on his muscular chest, she suddenly wondered what he was wearing under his sarong, was glad he couldn’t see her blush in the darkness.

“Now, of course, we need to do some turns.”

Kelly found herself drawn into the dance. She felt more than herself, somehow. This was new, exciting, different.

The music changed to a rumba and she pulled out his arms, smiling.

“Thank you, Jonas.”

He was about to respond when several people started calling his name up in the pavilion.

“Oops,” he said, “Duty calls. Thanks for the dance, Kelly.” He touched her face with a finger, kissed her lightly on the forehead and was gone.

She slept with a smile that night.

+

Kelly woke the next morning, stretched before getting up. She plodded to the coffee maker, hit the switch. She listened to it begin to burble and hiss as she stepped to the floor-to-ceiling curtains, flung them open dramatically.

And, blushing madly, closed them equally dramatically.

What in hell?

The resort was pretty relaxed and Kelly hadn’t been all that bothered by some of the girls going topless. It wasn’t like there was a major difference between that and the minimal swim suits the rest wore. Total nudity hadn’t however been on the cards. Not until, apparently, this morning. Still clutching the curtains, as if to ensure they stayed  closed, Kelly looked at the clock radio on her side table. 11:15. She’d slept in, slept late, but it wasn’t some bizarre alien time.

She opened the curtains a crack, peered out, felt her blush grow until she felt she was on fire.

The morning sun on the central patio below was warm, but hardly oppressive. Many, if not most, of the other wedding guests seemed to be there.

Most, if not all, their clothing was however not.

She didn’t remember anything like this on the schedule, so it must have just been impromptu. What in hell? Some sort of national holiday? Was it normal among Charlize’s set? They didn’t look tired enough to have been up all night.

Her eyes swept over the broad space, then again.

OK, not quite entirely naked. One of the women had fashioned a crown of flowers for herself. Others had followed her example; most of the women and some men were wearing one. Kelly found the flowers somehow amplified their sleek nakedness.

Kelly didn’t think of herself as a prude or easily-shocked. Unclothed breasts, both in splendour and disappointment, were common enough in art and magazines; bare bums were almost family-rated. But this sweeping degree of nudity was beyond her experience. She opened the curtain a bit wider, peered out.

After the initial shock had passed, her initial impression was that it wasn’t a particularly erotic scene. There was none of the high-voltage, insistent sexuality of such porn as she’d watched. It was, she mused, more interesting than sensual.

Even with almost all of the models Brazilian-waxed into unbelievable smoothness, their genitals remained essentially secretive, hidden from view. But the boys -— never had she seen so many... Formal art didn’t count and porn was hardly realistic (besides which, she couldn’t think of seeing a man in a porn video who wasn’t erect).

Kelly had never had the chance to really examine more than her lover-of-the-moment’s sex. Her blush fading, the girl compared the different shapes, sizes, shades, cut and uncut. The size, colour and length of the men’s scrotums seemed every bit as different as penises. There was a lot of manscaping, Kelly noticed. They look like boys!  she thought, then, immediately, No. No they don’t.   They looked nothing like boys and Kelly felt her body react to that certainty, felt her tummy tighten slightly, her nipples harden just enough to make their presence known.

It wasn’t an orgy, she thought to herself. Not really. There wasn’t a big flailing mass of people all having sex with each other. It was more social than sexual.

One nude girl was swaying slightly from side to side as she played a wooden recorder, accompanied by a naked boy with a guitar. Her breasts moved gently as she played; he was sitting cross-legged on the sand and his sex was out of sight behind the instrument.

Half a dozen undressed people sat around them, listening with appreciation. There were two playing backgammon, others by the shore playing an informal game of volleyball, breasts and penises flopping as they jumped. Some people just lay there, enjoying the sun’s warm rays. True, just about everybody was naked, but mostly it was just people relaxing in a tropical paradise.

Before her eyes then, for no reason she could fathom, the mood seemed to shift. Couples looked at each other, leaned in and kissed. Often that was as far as it went; yet, more frequently now, the kisses got deeper and the two began caressing each other. One pair left, apparently returning to their room. Two others wandered off soon after in search of some outdoor privacy. To her surprise, first one couple and then another simply began making love where they were, as that were as normal as talking or sipping a drink in public.

But why should  anyone feel ashamed? Kelly suddenly thought. They were all perfect, as strikingly beautiful as anybody in the world. And they all seemed very accepting, very laid-back, very comfortable not only with their body image, but with those bodies themselves and what they could be used for.

She felt herself relax, allowed the curtains to open a bit, felt the sun on her shoulders and chest. She shook her head, swept the hair out of her face, back over her neck.

When more couples started making love, those around might shift to give them more space or to where they might be able to see better, but the general air was one of appreciation, of happiness for them. Occasionally, if they tried a novel technique or position, others would lean in to better observe, often discussing it with their own partner in quiet whispers.

Two women sat talking, idly watching a nearby couple on a broad chaise lounge. The girl in front of them was impaled on her boy’s member, her hips rolling in a slow, gentle cowgirl. After a while, one of the first two woman rose and, taking her drink with her, sat down beside the couple. Without breaking from her original conversation, she began running her fingertips over the man’s taut and heavy balls. Kelly could see both of them turn to her and smile. The smiles grew brighter as the stroking finger strayed more, moving along the girl’s labia, exploring, tantalizing, then shifted again to trail lightly over his shaft, now glistening with the girl’s happy moisture.

More started. Kelly noticed another couple making slow, gentle love in the shade of a palm tree. The man sat in a chair with his lover seated on him, her back to his chest. From where she stood in her room, Kelly could see the man’s shaft between the woman’s swollen labia. His hands gently caressed her breasts. Rising and falling slowly every so often, her fingers stroked his pendulous balls, occasionally softly circling her hooded bud.

Her eyes opened wider at the sight of a lesbian threesome in a large hammock, hands sliding from breast to breast, dipping between firm thighs, pulling each other’s heads in for slow, extended kisses. Every so often, one of the women would shiver slightly as another’s fingers lightly pinched a taut nipple, slid over a silky sex.

Nowhere was there hurry or urgency. Everything moved on Island Time. When a couple was finished, somebody would hand them a drink or a towel to clean themselves, but that too was completely natural, just a friendly gesture.

Kelly thought for an instant of going down, to become part of... But no, not yet. Few of the others were dressed, she wasn't up for that and non-nudity would have been too obvious.

Kelly’s eyes were suddenly drawn to a man sitting off to one side by himself, his eyes admiring the sights, slipping back and forth.

Jonas.

He was wearing a sarong, one of the few she could see. His eyes shifted to her window. It looked like he was about to wave.

Kelly quickly closed the blinds behind her, sat on her bed to think.

She jumped when the bedside telephone rang. Tentatively, she reached out, picked it up.

“Good morning, princess! I see you’re awake and thought you might be hungry.”

“Jonas?”

“In person.”

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too, Kelly. I hope you slept well.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. How are Charlize and Todd this morning?”

He chuckled. “Nobody’s seen them and nobody’s much surprised.”

“Oh.”

“Would you care for some breakfast? Actually, it might be more of a brunch.”

“I need a shower. Say 20 minutes? Where will I meet you?” Kelly wasn’t entirely sure now she was ready for the scene outside her window.

“I’d be happy to bring it up, if you like. We can have it on your balcony or, if you’d prefer, we can have a beach picnic.”

Kelly was silent. She wasn’t entirely sure how she would feel about being seen watching the scene outside.

”Have I offended, Kelly? I’m not trying to be pushy. The restaurant is open and I won’t bother you. I just thought...”

“No! Not at all, Jonas. Sorry, I’m still a bit sleepy. A beach picnic sounds like a great idea. I’ll see you in 20 minutes.”

“I’ll be there.” He hung up.

+

Kelly was still brushing her hair when there was a knock on her door. Hastily wrapping a clean sarong around herself, she peeked through the security lens. Jonas was smiling outside, a large paper bag in one hand. She pulled the door open.

“Hi!”

“Hi, back!” Jonas said. “Don’t you look stunning!”

Kelly blushed a little at the complement. Compared to the others... Stop it, Kelly! He’s trying to be nice.

“As do you, Jonas, thank you.”

And he did. Jonas was hardly ripped, but his chest and arm muscles had proper definition and he looked confident, pleasant. The dark sarong around his waist suited him well.

Impulsively, Kelly leaned in quickly and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Jonas. This is so thoughtful.”

“Well, you saw the scene on the deck. Interesting, but not something I could really fit in with, you know? When I saw you in the window, it occurred to me that I’d far rather spend some time with a real person.”

She giggled, stopped suddenly. In the window. That meant he’d seen her boobs...
She started to blush, then, Don’t be a silly fool, Kelly. Jonas was down there; he’s seen everybody’s boobs.

She took a deep breath. “Well, I’m glad you did. Where are we going?”

“I figured we’d just explore down the beach and find a spot, if that’s OK?”

“Fine by me.” She pulled a broad woven sunhat over her head, pulled the door behind her.

“What happened?” she asked as they walked.

“What? The lack of clothes?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Not entirely sure. Somebody mentioned at breakfast that this place was a paradise and since when were clothes required in paradise? Somebody else said something about Nude Day and, well, one thing led to another.”

“Oh.”

"They're pretty confident in their bodies, right? Like, they're used to being seen dressed in not much? It wasn't that big a step and 'nobody's here but us folk', you know?"

"Oh. Yes."

The two picked their way down the beach, the resort sounds gradually fading, then gone entirely as they rounded a small point. There’d been other people this way, Kelly could tell; there were footsteps in the sand. Those aside, she and Jonas might be the only people on the island, so still and calm and quiet was the day. In due course, the two found a good spot, a fallen palm offering both a seat and a good view of the surf.

The bag Jonas carried turned out to contain a wide variety of fruit, bread and a soft cheese of some sort. Kelly smiled when Jonas produced a stout wine bottle and began unfastening the wire cage.

“Champagne, Jonas? For a picnic?”

“Why not?” he grinned. “Todd laid on a mountain of the stuff for the wedding. It’s bought and paid for, so yes, champagne.

“And,” he said, “this is a magical place, so it’s going to be a magical picnic and deserves champagne.

“And", he continued, turning his attention from the wine to her, “You’re worth it, Kelly”

The woman blushed, dropped her eyes. She hadn’t felt this awkward or shy for a long time.

Jonas put his hand on hers.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

She lifted her eyes, looked at the gentle expression on his face.

“But you are,” he said, with a soft smile.

She kept her eyes on his, but her blush returned.

“Jonas...”

“It’s OK, Kelly. We ‘normal people’ have to stick together.”

“It’s not like either one of us would have been comfortable out on the plaza this morning with all the glitterati,  right?”

True , she thought, nodded.

“It would take me a while to fit in there,” she admitted.

A long while.

“So,” the man smiled, “we’d better not let this good bubbly go to waste.”

His thumbs levered the cork out of the bottle with a loud pop.

Kelly’s eyes watched the cork fly off onto the beach and resolved to pick it up on the way back, take it home with her as a souvenir.

She held out both glasses, set one down as Jonas was filling the second. He put down the bottle, put his hand around the glass to claim it, but Kelly didn’t immediately release it. Her other hand came up, wrapped around his.

“Thank you for this, Jonas,” she said softly. “I just realized how much I needed this.”

She used the glass to pull him towards her, give him a brief, chaste kiss before releasing the glass with a warm smile. Her heart gave a little double-thump as she saw the smile on his face.

Both were quiet as they ate. The food was perfectly suited to the time, the place, the occasion, she thought. How to express her happiness? What to say? Where to start?

“Thank you for the lesson last night,” she said.

“Oh, you’re welcome. I was very well paid, of course.”

Paid?  Had she misunderstood after all?

Seeing the look on her face, the man laughed. He stretched out a forefinger, brushed the tip of her nose.

“No, silly. Not like that. I just meant that I got a chance to dance with the loveliest of the ladies.”

“Hardly the loveliest, Jonas.”

“You’re real, Kelly. That’s important.” His head swung in the direction of the resort. “They’re all nice people. I like them. But...” He paused, as if trying to think of how to phrase his thought.

“They’re nice, but they’re paid to act, to pose for the camera. After a while, I start wondering what’s real and what isn’t, which smiles are genuine and which are for effect or politeness.

“You’re real,” he repeated. His hand came up, slowly, stopped just short of her face, his fingers outstretched.

Kelly seemed to sink into his eyes. She felt as if each heartbeat took a minute. Her stomach tightened, her breath froze.

From behind them in the bush came a low cry.

Jonas sprang to his feet, his head sweeping back and forth.

Kelly, her heart pounding, seized his hand, pointing at a thin trail in the vegetation. She pulled his hand in encouragement.

“Jonas! Somebody may be in trouble!”

She looked up at him, made the decision, pulled at her hand loose.

As quicky as she could, she ran down the trail, brushing leaves out of her face as she went. Behind her she could sense Jonas trying to keep up. Once or twice he tried to pass her, to take the lead, but the trail was too narrow.

She heard it again, closer, almost in front of them, but barely a sigh now, an almost breathless moan. She slowed down, felt Jonas stop behind her. Curious, she eased forward, stopped, listened, changed course, another three steps.

She froze suddenly. Through a small gap in the bush, she saw a couple making love. Or, rather, a man engaged in slowly — ever so slowly — pleasing a woman.

Kelly recognized them from the wedding, but had forgotten their names. She was one of Charlize’s model friends and he her male clone. Kelly couldn’t remember if they’d arrived together.

She could hear Jonas panting from his sprint. There was no way to retreat, no way past him.

In front of them, the woman lay her back in the soft sand, her hands held firmly above her head by one of his. One of his strong legs lay across her thighs, pinning them to the ground, holding her in place.

Her body was shiny with perspiration, her nipples long and hard with desire, her eyes closed.

The smile on his face was as focused as it was loving.

With the very tip of one finger of his free hand, the man was stroking the girl’s clitoris. Slick with her dew, his finger was barely touching her pearl, moving less than half an inch, slowly, over and over. It was obvious that this had been going on for a long time.

Kelly caught her breath, herself aroused by the sight, her own nipples suddenly hard, her own sex swollen now. She again half-turned, seeking a way back, but Jonas, his attention fixed on the lovers, blocked the trail.