Sensual Bachata NYC

After two hours of dance-hugging-crying it out, she felt somber in his arms. She pushed herself away and said, "I'm going to go inside now and will sleep next to her on a chair. One day, you should meet her. She is very charming!"

She tore away the three strands from his wrist. She gave him a red, white, and dark blue wristband. "I don't feel like putting you through the tests anymore. You've shown your commitment more than any of the other assholes. One day, I might let you read my journal so that you can see all the evil tests that I had devised for you," she told him before entering the hospital doors with low-hanging shoulders. There was a sad shuffle to her feet.

The crew wristband gave Lionel new respect at the socials. Even when his partner thought of him as a disappointing dancer, she usually felt comfort that someone had found a valuable quality in him, even if she couldn't detect it. The women were a lot more polite to him when the song ended.

Lionel also met Caramel's daughter at a Central Park playground. She was indeed adorable the way that she sat in the sand and formed starfish sand piles with a yellow plastic form. When Caramel placed her daughter on his lap, he felt dizzy and taken by the honor of her presence. He wasn't sure what to do but eager to be instructed by Caramel. "This is uncle Lionel," Caramel introduced him. "He's a handsome dancer."

At home, he found Gaston sitting the whole evening on the toilet. When Lionel brushed his teeth, he finally asked Gaston what was up. Gaston replied, "Too much bareback anal. Sara is very horny. Each time she fucks her primary, she calls me to come fuck her in the ass at the same time. I got a UTI in my dick. If you stick it up a girl's ass, put on a rubber. I swear! It's burning the whole time. I feel like drops keep running out!"

The summer turned to its end. Labor Day canceled school on Sunday and work on Monday. Having extra time, Lionel stopped by Hiroto. For the first time, he dared knock on Hiroto's window to get his attention. Hiroto didn't move. But one of his groupie women got up to open the window for Lionel to let him in. Nobody paid attention to Lionel. Part of the groupies' modus operandi was that they were simply hanging out and present most of the time. Hiroto was lost in sketching with a pencil the face of a woman sitting on the floor in front of Hiroto. Sitting with his back against the wall on the floor, Lionel could feel the peace in the presence of the creative genius and the entrancing effect of Hiroto working furiously fast, but the drawing only slowly advancing.

"You know what your problem is?" asked Hiroto leaving unclear whom he was talking to.

"You need a muse," Hiroto finished without taking his eyes off his model and the drawing.

"Tanya," he called out. The young black woman with the green tank top, who was washing dishes next to the microwave, turned around in attention. Hiroto continued, "I want you to meet one of the most promising bachata dancers in town. He's rough like an uncut diamond but holds so much promise. You should try him out. He's friendly."

"Oh, I'm nothing but a beginner," defended Lionel.

"He's modest," overruled Hiroto. "He's a shy one. A muse needs to set him at ease and open him like a closed flower. Can you do that, Tanya?"

"It's my specialty," said Tanya proudly. Her face shone with happiness at having been given purpose and permission to cross boundaries of politeness for a higher mission. She walked over to Lionel with open arms and said, "Show me your bachata!"

From her open arms, Lionel could tell that Tanya didn't know bachata. So he showed her how to hold him. While in class everything was codified to keep polite separation even when physically close, Tanya had no such separation concerns. She gave her body freely to be handled any way. That he stayed within the rules of the dance seemed like an amusing child's toy to her that she actually enjoyed.

When he made mistakes, she didn't get upset because she didn't care about the dance form anyway. She was only there to support him reach his inner creative genius in any way she could support him. Realizing how he was unconstrained with her, he announced, "I'm going to try something that I've never figured out." She smiled in response like she was down for anything. He held onto her hands, spun her around. Their hands were supposed to end up in a certain pattern. Instead, their hands ended up in a bad knot. Lionel put them into the desired pattern of arms and tried to turn her back to figure out how to start.

She let him experiment. He could ask her questions freely. As she was new, he felt unabashed telling her how she had to move. When you feel a hand here on your ribs, only move your chest, not your hips. When you feel a hand pulling on your hips like that, turn this way. They entered a deep collaboration of finding shapes and patterns and exchanging how they could adjust it to make it work for the other person. In an hour, he probably covered twenty hours of class material with her because they could talk so openly and easily.

"Do you like my boobies?" Tanya asked Lionel. "Then you should hold them for a while in your hands because you are so shy moving around them."

She placed both of his hands on her boobs. His temples started sweating. He started shivering from body tension. Then the nervousness passed through him, and he simply felt the joy of holding her boobs in his hand; the weight, the shape, and the give of him were pleasurable. Then the tension in his shoulders let go. His shoulderblades moved apart. She brushed down his shoulders and arms to encourage him to let out a deep sigh.

"You are so wound up around a woman's body. That's why you are so tense and can't feel how to move with me. Touch my ass! Feel all over my body! Get it out of your system!" Tanya instructed. She was an expert in reading the emotional nervous system of artists and unlocking their psychological blocks. She was a graduate student in psychology to develop high-performance individuals. Her minor interest was in somatic psychology. She put his hands on her ass.

He simply rested his hands on her ass. That wasn't good enough for her, "You should enjoy it, Lionel. Go explore!" he let his hands glide all the way around his ass. When he went to the center towards her crack, he slowed down. "Anywhere!" she reminded him. He let his fingers slip down the crack of her jeans shorts towards the front. Slyly, he reached her pussy from behind through the clothes. She enjoyed and allowed the touch.

He felt up her whole body, exploring the inner sides, caressing her cheeks, squeezing her boobs for firmness, and flat-out going straight on her pussy. She gave him free roam. He had never explored a woman like that.

After five minutes, she interrupted him. "Now let's dance, but keep going to explore my body."

He moved her into shadow position. Having access from behind, he let his left hand slip down onto her pussy over the fabric and embraced both her boobs with his right arm. His moves became more sensual as he moved to explore and touch her body instead of perform a dance. Her hip rolls with each step became more sensual. He became aroused, which changed his emotion and energy.

"Holy fuck!" remarked Hiroto. "Tanya, you have transformed our stiff ostrich into a smooth panther! I'm getting jealous of the attention!"

Indeed, the groupies in the room had turned their attention from Hiroto's drawing to the sensual movements on Lionel and Tanya because they exuded so much feel and such a deep connection. When he raised her arm up and let his hand run down the length of her arm, there was so much heat in him like he was ready to devour her. The groupies in the room made smacking sounds with their tongues at how much heat they brought. One called out with reverent admiration, "Nasty!"

When his erection accidentally touched her thigh, he pulled back right away. With both hands, she pulled his hips forward to press the erection against him. "Let me feel your beast energy," she encouraged him. That unlocked something in him. He was no longer dancing for music. He was dancing to rub himself on her - not just the groin, but his chest. Their movement became an artistic way of groping, rubbing, and pleasuring each other. He started making her do movements that he had never learned but that simply popped into his mind as pleasurable.

"Ah, he turned from a slave to instruction to the source itself," Hiroto remarked. "The first time I saw him, I knew that he was one of the rare and gifted."

During the next hour of dancing, their bodies grew sweaty against each other. Lionel realized a thing about Tanya. She would have never been so forward with him had Hiroto not given her permission and safety to do so. In the way how much Tanya enjoyed her administrations of muse serum to him, he realized that she rarely got to do so. He sensed that she was usually very withdrawn and reluctant, terrified of rejection. Even a wrong glance back could destroy her self-confidence and faith in herself. Yet in this case, Hiroto had shouldered all the risk and blame for any rejection. Feeling complete commitment to herself, she had dared to go all the way to what she really wanted to do.

Lionel could sense that in her so clearly because the same was true for him. Because she had committed so much to him, he had felt free to explore her and dare. In a brief moment of clarity, he saw a glimpse of everyone at the Friday bachata social. Everyone was so afraid that everyone was tense and then every little mistake or perceived mistake magnified. And the antidote was complete commitment. If one person carried the commitment and risk of rejection, it set the other person free. And he saw that therein had lied his mistake. He had always been so tenderly in his approach to ask for dances. He had to throw himself in front of people like of course they would love to dance with him. And that presumption of a dance being loved put him at enormous risk to be tremendous rejected. But he needed to take that risk and potential pain to set the other person free.

"You are too much in your head," Tanya interrupted him. "We need to take care of that."

She got into a squat in front of him. She zipped his pants open, took his dick out, and put it in her mouth. The thing that had always been out of reach had happened right there as easy as squeezing toothpaste onto a toothbrush. The warm, wet, gentle mouth felt delicious on his penis. Then she pushed himself onto his dick so that her lips kissed his belly. He felt her throat pressing tightly onto his penis head. The snug pleasure was overwhelmingly pleasureful. She made a choking sound. When she pulled back, she kept his penis tip in her mouth. With tears in her eyes, she asked, "Did you like that?"

"Oh, heaven!" Lionel mumbled back.

She took that as permission to proceed. She took her top off to reveal her ebony boobs that had been waiting without a bra. She pulled his pants with the underwear down his pants. Lionel felt stark naked, exposed to everyone in the room with his boner standing like the sidekick of a bicycle. She got her shorts off. The rest of their clothes came off. The weak light in the room painted both bodies beautifully in the nude. Hiroto put a fresh white sheet on the easle.

Tanya lay on her back on the extended pillow. She beckoned Lionel to lie down on top of her. In awe of her naked body, he climbed over her. She grabbed his penis to guide the tip. He knew how to move. He moved forward. He felt the tip going in for the first time. He felt an embrace of his penis like he had never felt before. Things got a bit rough, he stopped, not wanting to hurt her.

"Push through it!" she ordered him.

As he thrust forward, he felt the skin right behind his penis head painfully tearing. A moment later, the penis head slipped into an extremely slick reservoir of wetness inside of her. When he pulled out back to the entrance, he pulled the slickness with him and coated her birth canal more evenly with each stroke her pussy got more slippery until he could barely feel anything. She kissed him full-throated with lots of tongue. He could feel the intense attention of the groupies staring at them from a close distance. Hiroto was sketching aloof.

Lionel set a languid rhythm. He knew that he had to make it last. So he had to limit his stimulation. Right when he thought that he had found the perfect balance of increasing the arousal and staying off the trigger of an ejaculation, her long fingernail finger caressed his butthole that was sweaty hovering in the air with each thrust. As she only had to lie there to take his thrusts, she could fully focus on wiggling her finger into his sphincter. His sphincter was clutched so tight from panic, but her nails were so narrow that when positioned perfectly, she could work it in.

Once the nail had created a beach head, he couldn't resist the first digit shoving in after it. As soon as he felt the first knuckle in, he squealed like a pig. He trashed like a fish gasping for air. He didn't want to let go of her pussy, but he tried to move away from the overwhelming sensation of the finger in his butthole. That made him thrust more forward and deeper into her pussy. She enjoyed the increased and deeper ramming, which caused her to burrow deeper into his ass, up to the second knuckle. The pressure on his prostate made more blood rush into his penis. He felt like the girth of his penis doubled.

He was no longer pacing himself. He was brains-out thrashing and in the throes of pleasure. He orgasmed. His penis pulsed a tablespoon of semen into her. It pulsed another one. "Give me all your seed," she encouraged him. And like never before, he unloaded a whole five spurts. His soul, balls, hearts, and body were completely spent on top of hers. She embraced him and held him. He fell asleep in her embrace.

When he woke, the sun had risen. A new set of groupies was making quinoa breakfast bowls. Hiroto was sleeping in his bed. The easel had a drawing of Tanya and Lionel right at the moment of Lionel's orgasm. His face was distorted. Tanya had a devious and lustful look on her face like a baroque succubus. Hiroto rose his head, and remarked, "I've always wanted to capture the exact moment that innocence is lost. You were marvelous last night!"

Returning to dancing, nothing felt the same. His heart felt differently. His body moved differently. His lead reached into the bodies of the followers to touch them. He had energy and passion in the way he touched. Women remarked how amazing his dancing had become and what a cool guy he had become. Women happily danced with him and asked for a second one later in the night.

When he felt a slap on his butt, letting him know that a woman waited to dance with him the next dance, he knew that he had made it. The cold, bitter phase of being a bachata beginner was behind him. The circle of women had accepted him in. With full clarity, he realized that he would have never made it on his own out of the purgatory of the edge of the dancefloor. Anya's induction and anointment of him was the critical step. NYC, more than any other city, is a social fabric that one gets woven into. Most of who we are and what we achieve is a gift from other people.

To be continued...