To the Rhythm of the Music – An Erotic Story

The following erotic story is inspired by the work of Thais Duthie, whose work you can read in Spanish here. This adaptation follows a woman who cannot keep her eyes off her dance class partner. Read on…

She is the most beautiful, the one who dances the best and the one who always arrives dressed flawlessly.

And now she’s looking at me.

I move my eyes from the mirror to avoid fixating on her reflection and concentrate on the teacher’s movements: right leg forward, left arm back and we change. I make the step a couple of times more until finally I catch the quiet and I repeat it when I hear the music.

“Great, Elena, perfect. Can you go up to the front so everyone can watch how you do it?”

The dance instructor is lost in the room. I hear her voice in the background, telling a companion that she has to lift her leg  just a little bit more. Elena walks to the front of the class and starts dancing. The music is ringing again, and this time I can’t help but stare, or deny how perfectly she steps.

Move your right leg and left arm simultaneously, with as much agility as you can muster.

Let your left leg bear all the weight, but don’t let your balance falter for a moment.

Keep your eyes forward, don’t look down; always looking forward. Now move with the rhythm of the music, don’t hesitate or you’ll love it.

“Remember that the movements must be clean. Hold on a little longer before returning to your starting position, okay?”

I flinch when I realize that the instructor is addressing me, because I was so focused on imitating Elena’s movements that I have not heard her approaching. I flush and nod, then repeat the step to show the teacher, and her, that I understand. I’m not hopeless, and I can improve.

“Well, better now,” she whispers, giving me a squeeze on my shoulder. “Try to leave your worries outside the room, today you are seem very distracted…”

She moves away fast enough not to see the fresh blush staining my cheeks. I glance sideways at the rest of the class to make sure no one noticed, and I sneak a fresh peek at Elena in the mirror.

This time I traverse her legs, ascending little by little through her body.

They are strong, muscular. I lose a few moments gazing at the bottom that is so tightly and alluringly wrapped in those black mesh tights and realize that I’m biting my lip. I keep going up until I find her back and those curved sides. She has her hair pulled up in a high ponytail, which allows me to see the beads of sweat gracing the nape of her neck, and I feel the sudden urge to lick them off.

I’m absorbed by these thoughts until I stumble, unaware of the teacher or the music. How can I let myself think about that? I’m surrounded by people! Anyone could realize, if even my body reacts alone… At least, I think I’m the only one who knows the dampness of my panties. Then the usual happens: the teacher asks me if I’m okay, I blush again, I moisten my lips, I adjust my sweatshirt just so I can do something other than looking at her Elena and I nod.

The class ended there, thankfully. I say goodbye to everyone, and wait for the classroom to empty before moving to the middle of the room. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh, before starting to dance. I review the choreography, first in silence before practicing several times with the music. Some thoughts flutter through my mind, but I push them out and keep moving my arms as I watch my reflection in the mirror.

Twenty minutes later and I’m exhausted. I pick up my things and go to the locker room. They’re all gone, except Elena.

I always stay dancing a little longer, she always takes time to get ready. I undress with my back to her before getting into the first shower stall I see.

The hot water causes all tensions in my muscles to disappear down the drain. I hear the door open, and before I can turn around, my arms are caught. The scent I recognize immediately—Elena. My surprise evaporates into excitement as I noticer her hard nipples against my back.

“What are you doing in here?…Someone could catch us,” I whisper.

“Shhh…if we don’t make a sound then no one will be able to catch us.”

She didn’t wait to finish speaking before I felt her hand move around my waist to between my thighs. I had them clamped together, but as I felt the insistence of her fingers, I surrendered, surrendered to her confident caresses. As I opened myself to her, I take a deep breath of the steamy air and lean back to rest my head on her shoulder.

She takes advantage of this gesture to kiss and then bite my neck, causing me to shiver in spite of the hot water.

Does she have to do this perfectly? Could she not just be good at  dance? Was it not enough to have such a devastatingly flawless body? No, of course not, she also knows exactly how to move her fingers and where to place them.

I know she’s discovered my dampness when she chuckles against my ear. I’m hot, impossibly hot. With closed eyes I feel for the tap to cool the temperature of the water, although it is not enough: Elena takes the opportunity to turn me around.

Our glances meet at last, though not a second before our lips also do and we submerge ourselves in desperate kiss. I notice each drop of warm water sliding down my skin onto her body. daring my fingers to follow . I let out a low moan that is drowned by Elena’s mouth who, amused, pushes me against the wall of the stall.  I can see her naked body against mine and enjoy the image. The curves I had seen barely hidden beneath her clothes are more pronounced now.

Her hands return to my body and seem to multiply – I know she has just two, but I feel like ten are roving over my body.

The caresses in my most sensitive areas, her body against mine, water crashing against my skin, my excited fear of being so exposed…it was all enough to make me lose my senses, my ability to focus on anything other than her touch.

I spread my legs slightly, and without warning, her fingers stuck in me like the most pleasant torture. I move my hips to bring her even deeper, as she arches her fingers inside me with rhythmic, precise movements. I craned my neck, trying not to fall, and found my gasping mouth on her shoulder, biting as hard as I desperately wanted her fingers to push within me.

I’ve rarely felt that way, that excited. I felt nearly drunk I was so lightheaded. I moan softly against her ear, then bite the lobe. Her lips found mine but they separate for a few moments to demand:

Come on! Do it. Come for me.

Her voice sounds hoarse but I can almost feel her smile. Of course I will. At this moment I can not think of anything better than to come with her, for her. Yet, everything I’ve done since I entered the studio has been for her: for her to watch, and admire. To impress and captivate her as she does me.

I moaned once more against her skin, now more audibly. Elena takes it for granted and starts a series of even faster and deeper movements. Her thumb has now caught my clit and is strumming it ceaselessly…

I’m very close and this time I’m the one who searches for her lips. They join mine in a fierce kiss, almost supporting my body as it loses itself in complete abandonment to pleasure. My back bends and my muscles contract a few seconds before giving way to an orgasm that seems to run through my entire body…

Then I feel so vulnerable that my legs begin to shake like I’m about to collapse. Luckily, Elena grabs me by the waist and rewards me with soft kisses along my jaw.

My breathing doesn’t want to return to normal and pleasure is still flooding my body completely. A tingling in my stomach reminds me of where I am, what just happened. I look at Elena to discover her calm stare, seductive and appraising as always. I try to smile back, to give her what I think she wants.

Her hand stops mine as it coyly approached her thighs. We looked at each other’s eyes.

“Don’t. This has been your reward for today’s class, you’ve done very well.”

“But don’t you want..?”

Her eyes hungrily confirmed yes.

“At home. I’ll wait for you there with dinner ready, my dear – be sure you’re ready too.”

Before I leave the change room, still weak with exertion, I think about her waiting for me at home. Who knows what games she might have planned; since we first met, she’s always been playing games, and winning.