Slow Dance

Author's note: Enjoy "Slow Dance" after listening to "Something" by the Beatles. Visit your favorite music streaming service to hear the inspiring love song, or copy & paste the link below.

The Beatles - Something - Bing video

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♫ "Something in the way, she moves

Attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me

I don't want to leave her now, you know I believe and how...♬

♥♥♥♥

Prelude -

➨There comes a time when a relationship is, or when it is not.

If it comes, afterward, and from time to time, a man and a woman reflect.❖

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Pritti is tallish--not as tall as Skye; she is attractive, some say glamorous--though not to the tune of Skye. She is cunning--more so than Skye.

It is evening; after hours of revelry, the party is quieting, and upon hearing Ringo Starr's fleeting percussive genius, man and wife make their way through the throng of revelers to where, taking their place at the center of the dance floor, they lock eyes and glide over its polished surface.

Though other couples follow, it is as if Skye and Pritti dance by themselves.

As the moment unfolds, the devoted partners ponder and, if only a little, show off. Whenever they dance to 'Something,' they celebrate their beginning, an instant when they were not--and suddenly were.

♪ Somewhere in her smile, she knows

That I don't need no other lover

Something in her style that shows me

I don't want to leave her now

You know I believe and how...♪

For lovers, music points the way. A footnote on the journey through time, the arresting Beatles' tune is the couple's vanishing point.

On their first date, the complex arrangement surged through the old car's speakers; it sparked a kiss and memories of a moment where chancing chance, a man and a woman converted loneliness apart to enduring warmth together.

Such is the occasion for the Vermillions; such is the swirling ballad cloaking them again, in a special brand of affection within which--one and one makes one.

They move and are reminded of a long-ago night when jittery passions capsized all that had been, when 'Something' swirled through FM radio as they sat side by side on the bench seat of Skye's classic 1964 Chevy Impala.

♭ You're asking me will my love grow

I don't know, I don't know

You stick around now it may show

I don't know, I don't know...♮

Looking up at her husband and hoping he remembers, Pritti prodded. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Skye countered with a familiar grin. "'Impala Night,' what else?" he admitted softly.

"I thought so," she confirmed. "You have that naughty boy look on your face; I saw it when we passed the old hotel."

Living in the tiny town, the Vermillions routinely drive by the century-old guesthouse whose potholed parking lot contributed the backdrop to the instant she sucked her future husband.

On 'Impala Night,' Pritti, her emotions hostage to an obsession for the handsome man, wagered all on an outrageous act that soothed the way to a lifetime.

Driven to fashion her future, the diminutive brunette had shocked herself and her date through three edgy, rhythmic minutes as their lives shifted from 'let's have a drink' to 'marry me' in under three weeks.

Such was the command of a rock and roll melody for the ages; such is the determination of a woman's accomplished tongue.

Now, thoughts of 'Impala Night' return. Pritti and Skye revive the instant's bygone drama when she threw caution to the wind and, violating every standard by which she was raised, performed the inconceivable on a first date. Drifting down to his lap, she had unzipped his jeans, breathed in his musky scent, imbibed a drop of precum--and stopped. Through an interminable moment, she neither moved nor sucked.

♬ "You stick around now it may show

I don't know, I don't know...♪

Terrified to do more and too frightened not to, Pritti took Skye's delicious erection in her full lips as the vintage car's antique mono-phonic radio filled the remaining emptiness between them with the songwriter's touching narration of a man's adoration for a woman.

Twenty years have slipped away, and memory of the pivotal twinkling resurfaces as the celebrated 'Abbey Road' standard floods their daughter's wedding reception. George Harrison's firm but delicate voice steadies the moment, and Skye, drawing his wife close, rests his hands on her broad hips as she drapes her arms over his shoulders.

So reprised the serenade to a generation, a composition Sinatra called the "most beautiful love song." Listening--yet not listening, Skye and Pritti move in harmony; they wordlessly agree with the legendary crooner.

♩ Something in the way she knows

And all I have to do is think of her...♩

Through dance, the Vermillions see into each other's souls, their bodies align, and, as time ticks by, they whirl at a level of agreement, which, though longed for by every watching woman--is exclusively theirs.

"Tell me something," Skye urged.

Puzzled, she probingly looked up. "What sort of 'something' do you want me to tell you?"

Returning to an age-old relationship question, he asked, "Why did you stop on 'Impala Night?'"

"I didn't stop," she declared, "I offered what I dared. I was in love with you, but it was our first date; I gave you what I could--then."

Skye skipped his fingertips upwards over her silken skin, left vulnerable by the lilac, open-back dress she wore for the occasion. Ending at the base of her neck, he squeezed as hard as he dared in a public place. Instead of releasing her, he waited through her pleasurable cringe before roving down her spinal column and back to her buttocks.

"I like when you do that," she cooed.

Leaning away from her, Skye returned to his long-held conviction. "You did too stop," he asserted, referencing the half-finished blowjob. "You wanted to make me come, admit it--you backed off. Why?"

"Same answer, Pritti scoffed. "I didn't stop; I...I hesitated...I gave you what I was ready to give. A girl has to look out for herself. Besides, though only one delicious drop, I tasted you; you addicted me--afterward, I turned into your personal cum junkie." Firmly, she added, "That should resolve the issue, my sweet."

"Lucky thing the all-seeing video surveillance cameras eying today's parking lots didn't exist back then," he joked. "Otherwise, proof of your loose morals would have found its way to Facebook, to your cackling college girlfriends."

"Oh?" she replied. "Guess what they were doing while I was doing what I was doing? The same thing, that's what." Pritti insisted. "Now, stop telling me about that faulty blowjob and hold me tight."

Skye drew her closer. "Tighter," she urged, dissatisfied. "Make every girl here jealous."

Pritti, melting into her husband, recollected his notion of dance. 'Sex in public,' he matter-of-factly held. 'Couples, klutzy on a dancefloor are equally klutzy in bed.'

Was he right? She looked about at the rapidly expanding crowd of shifting couples, her incisive eyes taking in those worthy of his subjective impression.

A strobe light lighted the room, shattering the dreamy instant into a billion shifting stars. To Pritti's delight, Skye unexpectedly twirled her.

Throughout its pleasant confusion, Pritti scoured the faces of the few remaining seated partygoers, women no one had brought to the floor. Her eyes skipped past theirs, overly attentive women watching from the periphery, their icy stares searing.

Their attention, a kaleidoscope of glares, riveted to Skye's lithe form as Lola Tapia, Sarah Haspel, and Aurilla Sutherland scrutinized the handsome man's poetic moves. Their eyes bled envy, their stares a scorching reminder of past love and present resentment.

"Skye," Pritti asked, "can women see us? Do they picture us in bed? Tell me," she insisted as her husband twirled her again.

"Don't women see everything?" he lightly asked, pulling her back to him.

"She nodded and continued. "What do men see?"

"Men see me touching your ass and want you for themselves. On the other hand, women get pissed that no one's groping them."

Smiling at his soft admittance, she asked, "Do you mean Sarah, Lola--Aurilla?"

He answered with a silent grin. Having already caught the watching women watching, Pritti beamed that her man and marriage were the subjects of obsessive yearning. She moved her hips and lasered her attention to him as The Beatles continued:

♪ "You're asking me will my love grow--I don't know, I don't know...♪

If Skye's description were true, the couple's sex life was on parade amid grasping spectators imbibing the couple's public affection.

"Do you still like to slow dance with your girl?" Pritti bashfully queried.

Dance was a rarity for the busy couple. Now, enjoying the moment, Pritti skillfully mirrored her husband's steps, sketching the daunting beauty of their love for the nosy women.

"Sweetheart," Skye whispered, nuzzling her ear; yes, there is 'something' in the way you move. I love our slow dance."

She purred, recollecting their long-ago moment and how she had left him erect and wanting. Not until their second date--the next week, had the ravenous woman sucked Skye to completion.

That, too, happened in the Impala; that, too, happened as they parked behind the Castle Hotel, a daring deed that proved the end of the beginning for all that followed.

Before Skye--Pritti searched. She knew she would know when she happened upon 'Mr. Right.'

She eventually found Miles, Connor, and even Alex--none moved her to do what she did for Skye. Instead, saving it for her imagined future husband and thinking the act was too intimate, she turned them away. Treating each as an appetizer, she touched her tongue to their overly anxious cocks, and then stopped. They were wrong for her--it was wrong. She demonstrated it by moving on.

Pritti rummaged more; Skye appeared. 'Impala Night,' happened, and relishing his manhood's sweetness, she heaped her preceding lovers onto the trash bin of disinterest. Trusting in her sense of taste, she swallowed for Skye--and never looked back.

♫ You stick around now it may show

I don't know, I don't know...♬

♮ END ♯