When they
dance, she sees that her smile makes her pretty, makes her beautiful even. She is
watching it in his eyes and in the play of his lips. She admires the lay of her
hand across the back of his shoulder, and she presses down to feel where he is warm
and taut, stronger than she could have anticipated. She is surprised to find her
body knows far more than she does.
Her body knows
where he is hard -it knows why he is hard and what he is hard for- and she can’t
help but respond. Her muscles are doing things she is embarrassed to do, but
there is nothing that can stop her pulling in close to him, letting the music accompany
her body as it turns insistent.
He
needs no convincing. He’s already there, holding her to him as they move to the
blues that carry them both. All that she doesn’t yet understand is knowledge he
has long gathered, long perfected, and it is now his to release to her. She receives
the play of his fingers along her hips as they rise without her permission when
he sways back and forth. He leans in and she can hear him moan. With her lips she
hears and brings them close, covers his lips with hers. She takes his moan into
her mouth and holds it there long enough to learn his tongue, understand the heat
of it, measure the force of it. As it fills her mouth she learns how to kiss.
She learns how to run her tongue into his, run it along his teeth and out to
his lips and back in again. All the while her hips mimic the movement of her
tongue, and he holds her aloft, holds her against him where she moves –unaware of
what she’s doing- but then he hears her. She returns the moan to his mouth and
so teaches him. Finally, it is he who is taken by surprise.