The Dance

[Linden C.]

Another semi-true story.

The lights were low, and the decorations twinkled as we swung and spun in our imperfect rendition of swing dancing. The music was jazzy and brassy and a little too loud, but we were having a marvelous time. The drinks and salads arrived, and then more dancing. Dinner and wine next, followed by more dancing. We were working off the calories as fast as we put them on. Big Band music, Swing, Jazz and a bevy of Zoot Suiters wove in and around us. My tuxedo shimmered and her dress swirled and flared. Desert came, and then Champagne. The last song was slow, the lights even lower and then with a new bottle of champagne in hand, we stumbled to the elevator, kissing, giggling and laughing.

As the elevator rose from the dance hall, it stopped at the lobby, and an older couple entered. We tried to suppress our carnal actions and look respectable. To our delight, the gentleman grabbed his bejeweled gray-haired matron and swooped down for a kiss of his own. Winking at me, he said to no one in particular, “This era has nothing on the ’40’s.” When we got off on the 6th floor, we heard the two elderly “teenagers” laugh, and giggle in their own right as the doors closed.

We made our way to our hotel room, and once inside began to disrobe. My tux was a rental, so no movie style rending of clothes here, but with one zip and a swoosh, her dress hit the floor. She sat on the corner of the bed and began to take down her hair. I came in behind and I kissed her neck as she brushed out her hair. As reach around her waist in a gentle hug and pulled my arm back when I felt wetness.

We had left our son with my parents so we could celebrate her birthday in style, but mother nature hadn’t given us a pass. This was way past his normal feeding time, and her milk had let down at my caress. She was dripping all over the place.
“Would you mind helping a girl out please?” she asked. I pulled away from where she was sitting and she lay down across the corner of the king sized bed. I lay down alongside her with my mouth near her right breast. I took her areola in my mouth and began to gently press her nipple against the roof of my mouth, suckling and drawing her milk into me. I stirred.

As I continued to relieve the pent-up pressure of her engorged right breast, she said, “It feels like you are enjoying yourself, but could use some relief of your own”. I could only moan. Breaking the latch with her pinkie, she stood up and began arranging the pillows against the headboard. Guiding me to the top of the bed, she had me prop up against the back and she straddled me, Placing her left breast in my mouth, and encouraging me to suckle there, she began to slowly, rhythmically rock over me.

We moved in sync, swaying and rocking. She brushed my hair with her fingers and lightly kissed my forehead. I twirled her right nipple in between my fingers and rubbed my palm across it gently. She held her left breast with her hand, keeping it in my mouth as I rubbed up and down between the small of her back and her bum. After a little while, she picked up her pace and the rocking became more frantic. Deep inside of her, I felt my own stirring and as I drank the last of her milk, exploded. She too climaxed and slumped onto my shoulders as I hugged her tight to me.

Finally, we lay down, spent, tired satisfied and at least I was very full. As we drifted off to a satiated sleep, she whispered in my ear. “I hope you’ll be hungry for your breakfast. As for me, I want room service.”

[Anonymous]

A lovely story, deserving of it’s own post 😊

[Author]

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