The Descent of Lela Ch. 01

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Ballroom dancing will get you laid. It is a gospel truth, as will any half-attractive guy that can whirl around the floor convincingly will tell you. Asking a girl to dance, then making her look beautiful and graceful, and finishing it with a flourish of a dip is a recipe for making her warm, wet clay in your hands. It taps into an unspoken wish females have, hearkening back to fairytales and Ginger Rogers. Ballroom dancing is such an innocent pastime, compared to today's grinding on a dance floor in obvious, mocking, imitations of sex. The press of thighs and hips together in a tango, the firmness in his hand as she arches her back into him, the physical exertion making them sweat. It is tease on the dance floor. It makes me hot just talking about it.

CJ didn't need any of these advantages, but he came to lessons anyway. I noticed him as soon as he walked in the door for the first time. As a member of the organization putting on the lessons, I was sitting at the door taking money and handing out name cards as usual when he smoothly entered. I judged him to be slightly older than my 21 years by his confident stride and mature bearing. He wore fit jeans and a soft worn t-shirt in a warm gray color that set off his green eyes that scanned the room, settling upon me. Me? Unaware that this was to be a (sex)life-changing lesson, I hadn't particularly dressed up. Simple tight jean capris, topped with a long tan tank top dipped down in front to tease a surreptitious viewer with the top of my rounded cleavage, paired with my signature high heels that drew attention to my taunt calves. The tank top set off my tan and the burnished gold color of my hair. I'm sure he took all of this in in the time that it took to withdraw the money from his wallet and hand the dollar bills to me.

"Hi there, my name's Lela. I'm guessing this is your first lesson, because I've never seen you before." My standard spiel, which is good, since I am sure I wouldn't have been able to come up with anything creative on my own at the moment. I cringed inwardly at my voice, which sounded much too high and fast. What's wrong with me? I took a deep breath to calm my oddly pounding heart, hoping he didn't notice.

"Yeah, it is. My name is CJ." There was a pause while he openly appraised me, and somehow I knew he saw through my attempt at panache. "Good to meet you. Hope to dance with you later?" He maintained eye contact strongly, further robbing me of my conversational skills.

"Hope so..." I trailed off weakly he walked away, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. Jeez, how old was I? I was acting like it was 6th grade and Kevin Loveland just asked me to go see Titanic.

As more wanna-be dancers trickled in, I robotically smiled at them, flirted when appropriate, and accepted their money. Thankfully this left my mind open to ponder on the meeting with the unabashedly masculine man that made me stutter worse than I had in years. His voice was surprisingly cultured on a guy so well built. All right, I'll admit to a prejudice. I expect guys with good bodies to be meat heads, and their voices generally reflect that. CJ took me off guard, since at first glance of his luscious arms I expected him to barely be able to string two words together. I soon learned that CJ was always far more than he seemed. As the night wore on, I took every chance to dance with him. I learned that he was an engineering student that was working his way through college by working at a local bar as a bouncer. Well, that explained his arms that made me weak merely look at. I also delightfully discovered that his eyes changed colors depending on the topic. When I brought up his challenging school work, they glistened blue with the passion of his chosen profession. At the mention of his sister serving overseas, they went gray with worry. And apparently, whenever he was horny, they were green.

So for the next couple of lessons, I always made sure to dress with him in mind. One week I was especially frustrated with my clothing choices. I stood there naked, still dripping from the shower, pawing through my mounds of clothes, hoping for something that would make him want me. It felt so dirty to be thinking of him while naked, feeling my fan blowing air across my still wet legs, that I let my eyes close with an impending fantasy. I reached up and wrapped my arms across my stomach, slowly trailing my just my fingertips over the skin. I sighed as I imagined that it was CJ, walking up behind me and putting his arms around me. The fantasy was so intense I could almost feel his hard body against mine, I felt that if I opened my eyes, I wouldn't see myself stroking the undersides of my breasts, but instead I'd see him, looking over my shoulder to make that same steady eye contact as he did the first time we met. He'd want to see how much he was turning me on, I was sure of that. My breathing quickened and deepened, each inhalation bringing more and more feelings from my oversensitized skin. Despite longing for harder, rougher hands, it was my own soft and small hands that teased my nipples to attention, then gently tweaking them to bring a deeper sigh from my throat. My smallish nipples were always almost too sensitive, turning me on with an accidental brush against a table, but now it was nearly unbearable.

Completely abandoning my search for the perfect outfit, I leaned back against one of the wood posts that made up my four poster bed. Letting my hands do as they pleased, I cupped my full, rounded breasts as my head rolled back exposing a long line of throat. One hand pushed up my wet hair as the other teased over the trimmed dark blond hair covering my slit. I breathed in slowly, imagining CJ kneeling in front of me, pushing my yielding knees farther apart. I reach up and wet my fingers, slipping them past my lips and immediately reaching down again.

Now, far too turned on to continue a tease in a fantasy any longer, I reached unerringly to my pulsing clit and started working it in swift circles. With my ring and middle finger of my other hand, I immediately inserted them into my already wet tunnel and slowly withdrew them and teased the entrance before reentering. Gasping now, I could feel an orgasm building under my fingers. CJ's face came to mind, and I could see his lips forming soothing words, "Come for me, come for me my angel. Come for me." That threw me over the edge, and my legs slipped out from underneath me under the weight of the shuddering orgasm. Sliding to the floor, I stifled my moans by biting my bottom lip as my entire body convulsed. It was short but highly intense, rendering me so weak that I could do little more than lay on my floor waiting for my heart to slow....

Once I finally made a clothing selection to my liking, I rushed to dance class, already late and not really caring. As I snuck into class, I got a glare from the teacher for not arriving early like usual, but I hardly noticed. CJ watched me as I crossed the floor to where the women were learning their parts, taking in the knee length white skirt and the green corset style top that accentuated the perfect curves of my breasts (if I say so myself). I blushed, thinking that the look in his eyes was very similar to the one I had imagined so recently, urging me to come for him.

It was hard to concentrate on the dance that night. I doubt I could tell you the moves, or even what dance it was. I could tell you every time I danced with CJ though. The night was hot, and the room filled with exerting people didn't help. As I rotated to him to practice the new move, he commented, "It gets so hot in here, I can barely stand it."

"Definetly. I don't know how you can stand to dance with me, I'm all sweaty. I doubt that's sexy," I answered, searching his eyes playfully, hoping for an encouraging answer.

"Oh, I don't know about that," he replied, pulling me closer than the dance strictly needed. Bingo!

"I think I know what you mean. Like when you get so hot the sweat beads along your spine before rolling so slowly down your back, settling at the flat part right above your ass? It always feels like someone's teasing finger to me," I answered, while locking eyes with him to gauge his reaction. His pupils dilated and I felt his grip tighten. Right then the teacher called out to move to the next partner, so I mouthed bye to him and moved on to the next, less enticing, partner. I tried to ignore the moistness between my legs, and the creeping sensation that I was playing with something much hotter than mere fire.

Walking to my car that night, I was lost in erotic thought. I had spoken to CJ other times through out the night, and the intense sexual connection seemed to only grow stronger. Disappointingly, when I looked for him after class was over as I changed my shoes, he was nowhere to be found. To have such a prolonged build-up and then to have him disappear left me unsatisfied and still terribly terribly turned on. Thusly, my mind was not fully on my surroundings as I fumbled for my keys in the dim half light, trying to balance my dance shoes, purse and unneeded jacket.

"Hey."

I whirled around, dropping everything across the pavement as I let out a startled gasp. "CJ! God, you scared me! Don't sneak up on me like that, I could have hit you!"

He laughed as he bent over to help me get my things. "I didn't sneak up on you, Lela, I've been trying to catch up since you left the class. I called your name, but you didn't hear me. Must have been thinking about something good. Good thing my car was parked close to yours, I would have missed you entirely," he answered, pointing towards a Corvette parked a few spaces down in the nearly deserted parking lot.

"That is yours? You have a '73 Stingray?" I replied, immediately recognizing the classic muscle car. "No fucking way!"

His lips slowly parted, exposing his perfect teeth in a smile, enjoying the reaction the car caused. "Yeah, it is. For four years in high school I worked every summer in my dad's shop for this thing," he explained as we walked over to examine it after dropping my things off. "My dad said I would have taken her to prom, if I could have found a corsage to fit over the steering wheel."

"I don't blame you. This has to be one of the sexiest cars ever made. The lines alone on this thing are enough to make any normal red blooded woman hot," I replied. Somehow, the warm spring night had gotten even warmer in the time it had taken to walk over to the metallic blue car. I sensed him walking up behind me.

"Oh really? Do you consider yourself a normal red blooded woman?" He breathed the question out and I could feel its warmth on my neck, curling around my collarbone with tempting purpose. It sent teasing shivers down my back and I unintentionally straightened up at the welcome intrusion. He must be right behind me, but still not touching me. I willed myself not to turn around, to let him make the first move.

"If anything, even more so..." I answered in a sigh, slightly turning my head to expose my neck even more. I willed him to lower his mouth to my willing smooth flesh and end this tease. Anything at all, just have him touch me.

"I thought so. You should watch out, one day someone is going to use that to their advantage," he said softly. We stood there in expectant silence for a moment, and then I felt the tips of his fingertips running up my bare arms. It was the softest touch imaginable, yet registering in my mind with all of the intensity of slap.

"I guess I am just too trusting...I might need some one to protect me from such people." I answered after a pause that stretched out comfortably, but filled with sexuality, before taking a delicious turn to the perverse.

"I know. I mean, someone could just bend you over right now and fuck you here, I bet," he growled, nipping my neck on the word fuck, as his hands tightened around my arms. I just sighed in response. "I bet you wouldn't even scream. I bet your panties are already wet just thinking about it, huh?" His hands disappeared from my arms and I felt a brief stab of disappointment. Then I felt his hands on my hips, fingering the straps on my panties through the skirt. Still not facing each other, my eyes closed as I felt him slowly gathering the thin fabric of my skirt, pulling it up. I held my breath, overwhelmed with the sexuality of him doing something so dirty in a parking lot. I felt faint and was glad I could lean my trembling body against his strong and hard one. Inch by inch, my skirt got shorter, and shorter, and shorter until I could feel CJ's hands on the smooth skin on the sides of my thigh. The breath in my lungs left in a rush as I felt tease the skin with the same soft touches he used on my arms, but with much stronger affect. His fingers teased over the top of the silky fabric of my panties, not yet dipping down to test his theory of my wetness. He didn't have to test it, I could have told him I was positively dripping, if only I could speak. I was now leaning almost entirely against him as his head bent to my neck, continuously giving soft little kisses interspersed with nips that threatened to make me lose the ability to stand.

"Should we see if that's true? Should we see if you are a dirty little girl with wet panties?" I whimpered in response, wanting him to know how hot he had made me, wanting that and more. He abruptly pressed me entirely against him and reached down to cup my entire hot pussy in his right hand. "Oh, someone has been a bad girl. You are very, very wet. You know what? I don't think bad girls should be able to keep their panties. After all, they are just going to get them all wet again, so they don't deserve to keep them. I think I will keep these now, and maybe one day, if you are a good girl, you'll get them back."

As he said this, his left hand went to my hip and played with the little bow that kept it in place, as the other still cupped by wet satin-covered pussy. He slowly teased my clit, rubbing my pussy lips against it in smooth motions. Through my sexual fog, I was glad that he was holding me up, knowing that if he released me too quickly, I'd simply crumple to the ground in mirror to my earlier masturbatory escapade. But this was so different from the way I imagined it! He wasn't being soft and sweet, he was being hard and unyielding. Why wasn't I speaking out against this? If anything, this turned me on even more. I shivered at the thought that maybe CJ knew my body and it's desires better than I did.

His left hand deliberately pulled on the bow and let the ties drop the the side, so the only thing holding them up was the right tie and his hand. CJ relaxed his hand on my pussy, to my intense dismay, rubbing one fingernail over the fabric covering my clit. He then went to the still tied side of my panties and undid those as well, catching the falling pair with ease.

"Goodnight, Lela," CJ said, calmly releasing me and walking to his car, carefully stowing my panties in an inner pocket on his leather jacket. I could do nothing but stand there and watch him drive away. I did catch his eyes for a second, and they nearly glowed green in the half light.

*

Thank you for reading my first attempt at erotica. Part 2 should follow shortly, although encouraging words might speed that along some. I'd like to thank my editor Matt, for guiding me through my creative process.