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Brock picked her up in a town car and told the limo driver to take them to the Leña Brava on Randolph. After an amazing dinner of blue corn rolled chicken enchiladas, with hot salsa and cold sour cream, refried beans, Spanish rice and some scrumptious sopapillas drenched in honey, they went to a nightclub showcasing dancers from the Dance Academy of Salsa.
Fawna clapped her hands. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to do the salsa.
“Then, you shall.”
Brock called the male instructor over to give Fawna a quick salsa lesson before they took the dance floor.
He stood in front of her in the corner of the dance arena, showing her how to straighten her stance while loosening her constitution.
“This is a sexy dance! You can’t look sexy if you’re stiff!”
She smiled. Brock looked on from the small round table near the dance floor. She thought she saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes, but she blew it off. He was the one that had hired the dancer. He couldn’t be.
“The salsa is simple. It’s three steps, then pause, three steps, then pause. It’s what we call On-One-Timing. It’s easy. It’s just dancing while you walk.” He demonstrated. “Start out in a neutral position. Feet side by side. You walk forward on one step—backward on one step, alternating your feet. Again, forward with my left foot—backward with my right.” After demonstrating the move a few times he clasped her hands, they performed the steps together. “That’s it,” he encouraged. After a few times more, he pulled her to him then back out and spun her around. Soon, he had her feeling like she was dancing on air. After about 30 minutes, he motioned for Brock to take his place while he sat at their table and watched. Brock’s mood became light again.
He proved an expert salsa dancer. He twirled Fawna, and bent her over his knee with grace. The danced until dawn. They salsaed, they drank, and they chatted about aviation.
“Wow. That felt so good. Whirling around the dance floor without a care in the world.” She turned as she said it and they made their way up to her new smaller, downtown Chicago apartment.
He grabbed for her. Pulling her into his arms, kissing her with passion.
“How about I let you in for a little night-cap?” She teased, rocking a tiny bit from the effects of the alcohol they’d drunk all night. The dancing they enjoyed didn’t douse the effects of the libations.
“I’d love nothing more.” Brock stood in the frame of the door admiring her figure as he began walking behind her. She was tall and stunning and wasn’t intimidated into not wearing high heels.
Her sexy long legs teased him. Once she let him in, she slipped off her stilettos and beckoned for him to come closer, and he obliged. Placing his hand on her slender waist, he pulled her to him.
“We going to start from where we left off? More salsa?” Flirted Fawna.
“What we do next is definitely not going to be the salsa.” He brought his lips down on hers, tugging her body closer.
“Oh, not that salsa—this salsa.” Fawna grinned and encircled her tonge with his, pressing herself against him. He grazed her lips with his before going back for more tongue dancing.
“Let’s go, tiger,” she lead him through the living room and down the hall to the bedroom. Her silky skirt rode up her legs a little
at every movement of her hips, revealing a little bit of her slender long thighs as she moved. Visions of watching her salsa dance with another man (the dance instructor) drove him wild with naughty fantasies.
Brock's hardness throbbed in his underwear in anticipation of the sensuous dance getting ready to take place between them as they both succumbed to their sexual desires.
Fawna, filled with liquid courage and a hunger to declare this real love so she could move on from her past, crawled onto the bed on all fours. Her move allowed her legs to spread, revealing her lacy black underwear. He climbed onto the bed with him and she pulled him towards her, taking the opportunity to unbutton his sexy shirt. She peeled it off and he took off her dress.
She kissed him and rolled onto her back, pulling the weight of Brock on top of her, grinding her hips—wanting to feel his manhood pressing from his pants. After a few bumps and grinds, he pinned her wrists
to the bed and began nuzzling his lips onto her neck for a love bite. She tilted her head and let out a soft moan.
Her heart raced under the touch of his skin. He planted feathery kisses on her neck then moved down to her breasts.
He trailed his lips down her stomach, his kisses sent her into spasms of groans and moans. He slipped off his pants and worked his way on top of her, pushing himself into her. She gasped in pleasure. His rhythm at first slow and easy, became more urgent.
He picked up the speed of his thrusts until the bed frame pushed against the bedroom wall. A sense of ecstasy pulsed through both their bodies as they pushed towards climax. The two lay on the bed without any light in the room, peering out of her windows into the night. He turned and embraced Fawna, looking deep into her eyes. “I could never live if something happened to you. I love you so much Fawna. I want you safe—and with me always.”
