It was our first dance. The air in the gym hung hot and humid, smelling of Dad's aftershave and Mom's perfume. My classmates swayed around me as I lost myself in his arms. Everyone hungered for the embrace of the last slow dance, and not a single one of us knew what to do with it.
This was the last dance of the evening, and I wondered if he'd try to kiss me as we said "Good night." Thise was the only chance I had hold him close to me. So I pressed my body into his. My A-Cupped breasts pressed through my cotton dress and into his hard chest. It felt wonderfully lewd. (He would never guess that all those "accidental brushings" were not as accidental as they seemed.) I leaned into his hard chest and felt his strong arms encircle me. I tried to look casual as my body came alive with electric desires. And I wondered just how many girls doing and feeling the same.
As we swayed with the music, I felt him grow within his pants. Like a snake emerging from its den, pressing against the layers of fabric between us. It was safely imprisoned, and only the outline of it's body pressed upward toward our navels. We pressed harder together. We flushed. We looked in opposite directions, not daring to look at each other. That's what we did. That's what everyone did. We all loved what we felt and didn't have a clue about what to do with this massive, hormone fed awakening. So we danced on.
I remember pressing hard against him and moving my hips from side to side - swaying with the music. How obscenely beautiful I felt, as I rubbed him with my belly, to the rhythms of the music. I memorized each moment, each sensation, each touch, each beat as we stood alone in a crowd, lost in this newest incarnation of sexual expression. My panties were soaked by the time we were done.
We didn't say much as his dad drove us to my house. He walked me to the front door and our eyes met for the first time after the dance. A shy smile. A tentative kiss. A sweet good night. And we went our separate ways into the night our own fantasies.
