Start Making a Masochist from the beginning, get a refresher with Part V or jump right in.
I don’t know whether I’m more relieved or dismayed that the rest of our dinner is uneventful. At least in the kinky fuckery department. Ian is a very attentive date, not that I’m surprised. The room is bursting with people, but still I feel like we are the only two there. We enjoy a pleasant yet hushed meal, sitting side by side, content with the other’s company. But even when keeping his hands to himself, the heat of Ian’s penetrating stare combined with his thigh burning into mine does nothing to limit the moisture that pools between my legs. I’m sure this dress is ruined.
I’m literally shocked speechless when floor to ceiling velvet curtains sway open and an orchestra band begins to play. Ian said we would dance, but I thought perhaps at a nightclub or a live music venue playing modern hits, not the waltz. I didn’t even know places like this were still a thing. I look over at him, eyebrows well into my hairline, and Ian smiles so wide his dimples disappear.
“Tonight, we tango,” he says seductively, and I shake my head as I laugh. He may be insane, certifiable, if he thinks I can dance. “It’s easy Savannah. I told you, you just need to follow my lead.” That’s always the catch with Ian, isn’t it?
Ian stands and offers me his hand chivalrously. I eye it like the device of torture it is before placing mine in his. He pulls me to my feet, tugs me tight against him, and wrapping an arm around my waist, leads me to the dance floor. Each step is an exquisite reminder of the Ben Wa balls tucked inside my aching channel. While I sat, they were easy enough to ignore. If I didn’t move. That’s not possible now that I’m mobile.
I try to take small, even steps to minimize their delicious thrumming, but Ian is having none of it. He leans towards me and whispers in my ear, “I enjoy having those beads shoved in your cunt, but I think you like it more. I can smell your arousal from here.” He takes a deep breath, letting his nostrils flare. Knowing that if Ian can, other patrons most likely can too has a crimson blush spreading throughout my body, and a renewed gush of moisture flooding my sex. Yep, the dress is definitely ruined.
We arrive at the dance floor just as a new song is beginning. Instruments, accordions I believe, join in with violins and a piano and I can’t help but to think of movie scenes set in Paris. Ian pulls me close, holding us torso to torso, one hand low on my back. He spreads his fingers out, widening them over the swell of my ass, and the action feels so possessive, a fresh wave of arousal forms deep within.
Taking my other hand, Ian says, “the tango is easy. We mix long strides with short, quick steps. Like this.”
He pulls me tighter against him and instinctively my arm wraps around his waist. He repositions it to his bicep, squares his shoulders and begins to move and without a thought, my legs follow along with his. Two long steps, then a quick third and fourth, finished with a fifth longer step. He moves faster than me by a fraction, and the toe of my shoe drags over the polished floor.
When our feet once more come together, he stops. “Very nice, Savannah. Keep your beautiful breasts pressed against my chest.” He looks down at my cleavage popping from the deep “V” of my neckline to emphasize his point, then back up at me with a smirk. “And your hot cunt on my cock.” The object of mention jumps at his words, and I offer him a smile of my own. “Eyes on me. Don’t think. Just feel. My body will tell yours what to do.”
I have to give him points for creativity. As far as kinky fun goes, it’s pretty clever. Every move has my hardened nipples brushing against the satin fabric of my dress, his semi-erect cock nudging against my pearled clit and those deliciously demanding balls jingling away inside me. Each quick step is pure pleasure. Each long stride is agonizing, lubricious pain. It’s sweet torture, and I would follow him anywhere at that moment, and his grin says he damn well knows it.
When I get the hang of it, moving with confidence, Ian whispers in my ear, “let’s spice things up.” He dips me backwards, so low I worry my breasts will spill from my bodice, before grasping my leg and pulling it up his thigh with languid grace. Not stopping until the thickness of his cock settles between my pussy lips, only the delicate fabric of my dress and Ian’s flimsy zipper separates our most intimate parts. I’m going to have to burn this dress.
Held in his embrace, bowed backwards over his arm, Ian paces a step then two in reverse and as each of his strides presses the bulge of his arousal harder against my sensitive flesh, I let out a low moan. He chuckles before once more bringing me to stand. I return my gaze to him with hooded lids, only to find his expression mirrors my own.
We continue our dance of passion and seduction, our bodies moving together as one. If you were to ask me any of the moves, I could not tell you. I felt as if I was in a dream. Perhaps that’s another of Ian’s many charms.
Ian’s eyes never leave mine. Not as he directs our dance with minimal effort. Not even as he dips me low once more, bending his limber body around me and brushing his so-very-kissable lips over the column of my neck. As always, he is perfectly attentive.
As the song ends, I’m pulled from my daze when applause erupts, encircling us. I turn and look around and only then understand the clapping is for Ian and me. No other couples remain on the dance floor. I lower my chin to hide my blush at being caught in such a vulnerable state, but Ian raises it with a single finger before whispering in my ear, “revel in their appreciation. You deserve it. Very nice work, slut. Now, let’s dance a bit less provocatively, and perhaps it will save everyone some embarrassment.” He presses his hardened cock against me before he continues, “and then we need to get out of here. We still have dessert.”
The glint in his eyes gives me a good idea of what dessert will be.
To be continued…
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Wow, I knew the tango could be a seductive dance, but I never thought it could go this far!
It was the first ballroom dance I was ever taught and it stuck with me (as you can see)