Love Off The Dance Floor II - Sex Stories

Love Off The Dance Floor II

... full-length mirror. This couldn't be me. The woman peering back at me was stunning. Shoulder length hair caressed her face, its golden highlights accented with sparkling pins. She moved her head, watching the lights capture the embedded sequins. She seemed delighted; her blue eyes observing her full reflection. In awe, she touched her cheek, no longer as pale as it had been. Her skin was adorned with the usual stage make-up, her blood red lips a stark contrast to her ivory flesh. A side-glance in the mirror brought a renewed smile to her face. She admired herself in a whole new light. She brushed her palms across the material outlining her body in delicate layers of silk. Pleased, her hands lingered, her mind absorbing all she was taking in. She took a step closer... "Damn these shoes!" I grumbled at my clumsiness, forgetting the woman I'd been looking at. Scowling, I glared at the four-inch heels I had to wear. I feared for my life, wondering if I'd get though this night without a broken limb. I somehow doubted it. Where the hell was Serena? If I didn't sneak out of here now, I'd be in more hot water. I was already in deep enough. Hobbling, I headed toward the door, hoping no one would notice my clumsy departure. I had hoped wrong. "Cassie, you going somewhere?" asked a voice behind me. "Me? No..." I stammered, lying through my teeth. "I just needed some air, Delilah." "Well, there's no time for air, dear girl!" Taking my arm, she led me in the other direction. In a voice I ...

... couldn't ignore, she bellowed, "You're up!" My feet seemed to fly, no longer encumbered by my four-inch heels. I cursed silently. My plan had backfired. Cheering filled the room as Delilah announced me. They called out my name, chanting over and over. "Cassie, Cassie, Cassie!" Damn! How am I going to get out of this? I wondered, my mind in turmoil. I couldn't move. My body retaliated, my limbs useless as I absorbed what was happening. I fought for control. I wanted to run offstage but was still unable to move. Something held me there. My feet were glued to the dance floor. The music droned on. Hollering came from a distance. I was in a time warp, and I remembered when dancing had helped me overcome teenage awkwardness. Memories were coming back. I recalled how I had danced before. How I'd felt the thrill in front of an audience. I breathed easier, placing myself there again. Part of me wanted to feel the rush again. I wanted to experience what Serena did. I can do this, I thought. I know I can. I slowly moved forward. I let my body feel the unique rhythm. I began to move, becoming one with the song. The crowd whistled in appreciation. I wasn't a teen anymore. I was a stunning woman in blue lingerie—and I was dancing for them. Music filled my senses and I began to relax. I floated across the stage floor, led by the throbbing beat. I felt empowered by the audience. Their urging spurred me on, their excitement consuming me with each new step. I became more exotic in my dance. I ...