1 comments/ 7922 views/ 2 favorites Tiny Dance By: draco_de_azul I sit and watch, trying to get a hold of feelings I didn't know existed any longer. She is my tiny dancer; the name just seems to fit. I feel fierce around her, wanting to protect her and to be the only one to totally possess her body and soul. I want to worship her, lose myself in her. I want to drive her out of her mind with desire and then satisfy these wants. She is so beautiful, with fiery red hair, smoky gray eyes, and skin so white and fair it glows like alabaster. Breasts large and still remarkably firm with thick nipples of rosy pink. She is all that as well as sweet and kind, loving and trusting. Avid readers, of which I am one, count reading as their main hobby. I didn't use to. What type of person counts such a passive activity as one of their favorite things to do? But as I aged, I realized how much I truly loved to read and stopped trying to justify it. It gives me pleasure, that's all that matters. Bookshops and libraries are dangerous places for us. One is looking for diversion from the world and retreat into one more amiable for the reader. We find friends on the shelves. Some are short term while the good ones last a lifetime. Good places can keep us occupied for hours as we wander up one shelf and down another, picking up and examining a volume, replacing the majority which doesn't make the cut. So it was one day at a local used bookstore. And then I turned the corner, nose buried in a book to which I was giving serious consideration when she ran into me. The book went flying, I staggered back a few feet, and she gave a startled exclamation as her books fell down. Bending over, I picked up her books and started to hand them to her. I couldn't help smiling inwardly at the titles. Interesting selections, I thought, not cheap romances but definitely ones where the physical side of relationships played a strong part. I stole a glance at her. Remarkably unremarkable. A scarf covered most of her head, a stray escaping lock of that fiery red hair the only clue to the buried treasure. Long and shapeless overcoat in a nondescript color cloaking her body. A pair of large round glasses hiding most of her face. If she was trying to hide in plain sight, she was a master. Our hands touched as I handed over the books and I pulled mine back, startled. She gave a small yip of surprise. Some type of spark had passed when our hands touched. I reached out again, softly took her hand entirely in mine. It was quite small enough to fit. She didn't pull back. We talked softly while standing in the aisle. It was like trying to tame a wild doe. One false move, one wrong word, and she would have bolted forever. I steered her to the coffee bar inside the bookstore. After getting her a Lady Grey and me a British Breakfast tea, I made my way back to the table. She was sitting there still in scarf and overcoat. I took off my coat, moved behind her chair and asked if I could help her here off with hers. After a brief hesitation she leaned forward and I slipped her jacket off while she removed the scarf. I turned back from the table after hanging the coats on a rack and tried to not be caught staring as I was staring at the transformation before me. She was as I described above (except that the nipples were, of course, not a part of the viewing yet). She barely reached to my shoulders as we had walked. Altogether a tiny delicate package. We talked about books, we talked about ourselves, we talked about our lives. Talk came easily. I was happy over the ways things were going so far but I did have concerns over our differences in age. She, apparently, didn't seem to care, which meant she had no interest beyond a casual conversation in a bookstore or she just didn't care. It turns out the latter was the case. She didn't hesitate too long when I asked her out. She didn't hesitate overly long when I asked her to dinner at my place on the 3rd date, which led to me offering one of my world famous massages with after-dinner wine which led to slow and satisfying love-making. And I discovered those wonderful nipples, so pink and large and so tender. She wasn't a virgin but hadn't done much in the dating arena for a long time. She hadn't found a man with whom she felt comfortable. The next time we ended up in bed, I held her wrists in one hand over her head while I used the other along with teeth, tongue, and lips to tease and titillate her until she begged for me to be inside her. The aprez-sex talk certainly took some interesting turns as she opened up to my questions. She admitted that she had fantasized about being tied up and helpless, totally at the mercy of another. I'm nothing if not a gentleman so I started teaching her the ropes, so to speak. She wasn't into pain as much as being dominated and denied her climax, which I was certainly glad to subject her to. You might say having an active imagination and a lot of patience left her well-pleased. Tonight her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, which I'll make use of another time. Her wrists are securely bound behind her as well as elbows and upper arms, causing her breasts to stick out very nicely. I don't have a dungeon with rings everywhere so I've secured her ankles to a spreader. Her pussy, nicely topped by a neatly trimmed fire engine red patch, will be a helpless prisoner to the tortures I'll be visiting on her. Tonight she wears a blindfold and gag to heighten the senses and let her know she won't be talking her way out of anything, although she hadn't been successful in this so far. She quivers helplessly, waiting for she knows not what will come. I gently stroke her eager clit a single time and watch little tremors run up and down her body. I'm thinking of the reaction I'll get when I put on nipple clamps, she should go through the roof. Tonight will be a long one. When I have her bubbling over, moaning for release, I intend to screw her until her knees collapse. My la petite fille à son papa and I are wrapped up in our world, happily dancing to the music of our souls. Tiny Dancer How I ended up there I don't know. I was the new guy in the office and on my first trip. A few of the senior guys had dragged me to a few bars that they knew and we had all had a good time. I had that comfortable dreamlike fog that grips the intoxicated and was definitely feeling no pain as I dug into my pocket and handed her my last wadded up bill. She looked down and I watched her eyes widen in surprise. She had the loveliest eyes, bright blue, blue enough to even be seen in the limited light of the club. She flashed me a dazzling smile. "You sure about this sugar?" she said with a voice as sweet as her affectation. Sure about what I thought to myself as I watched the light behind her explode her hair into a golden halo. Am I sure I can keep from falling off my chair? Am I sure I want to taste those sensuous lips just a foot from my own? Am I sure I want to even though my young wife is back in Maryland waiting for me to get back from my business trip in a few days? All these thoughts went through my mind as I fell deeper into her eyes. "uh, yeah." I croaked out, fully convinced that phrase would get this beauty to go home with me. She once again glanced at the denomination before tucking it quickly into her stash. She turned and walked back to me catlike, with her eyes locked onto mine and her hips rolling to the music. She kicked my feet further apart and seemed to melt to her knees. Pressing her palms on my thighs she slid them up across my stomach and onto my chest. I continued to stare into those welcoming orbs of pleasure and the dainty smile beneath. Her fingers slowly undid each button on my shirt. My cock stiffened as it was pressed into her firm breasts. I could actually see the bulge in my jeans nestled in the snug valley between them. As she opened each button she slid further down and I leaned my head back as my senses swirled in the headiness of throbbing music, lights, and the pure flesh of woman. My cock grew warm and I actually wondered if I had cum in my pants till I saw her breathing into the fabric of my jeans. She stood quickly and began to sway to the beat. Her hips dragging her torso left and right as her hands slid up and cupped those perfect tits. He fingers tugged at both nipples as she looked into my eyes again and smiled that fuck me smile all strippers perfect. Her hands slid down and she pulled the fabric of her thong away from her pussy, paused as if embarrassed then let the elastic snap back into place. Her fingers spread across the thin material and she slid her longest finger along the crevice gasping. She pumped her hips and rubbed back and forth and if she was pretending I couldn't have guessed. She turned and looking over her shoulder hooked a thumb in the straps on each side. Again the smile as she slowly peeled them down her long legs bending until she reached her ankles. Framed in the oval cleft at the tops of her thighs was the most beautiful pussy I had ever seen. Perfectly proportioned lips tight but looking ready to burst open like a tulip bud. A slight glisten of moisture where the hood slides from between them to surround the little pleasure button and just the faintest wisps of honey gold strands that match what fell around her shoulders. The long sharp red fingernails slid around her left hip pulling her cheeks slightly apart to increase my view. She turned and moved her arm up along her back and slid those red nails down and across her perfection, pressing firmer each time, on the third trip her finger parted them and slipped slight between. That lone finger began to dip within gathering the dewy moisture only to come free and paint the soft lips with its stickiness. I was mesmerized by what I watched and only had my trance broken by the appearance of her heel as she lifted it between us, her panties dangling from the long spike. She reached back and grasped them and used them to blot her wetness then turned and pressed them to my face. I inhaled deeply, smelling her muskiness, knowing I was absolutely at her mercy. She grabbed my legs and tugged me forcing me to slide down into the chair and my hips to the edge. She turned again and began to again dance with the beat of the music. She rocked her hips and waved her ass in long circles as she slowly lowered it to my lap. She squeezed the muscles of her ass to grip the bulge in my jeans tugging it and coaxing it to a hardness it had never achieved. She lifted up and began to slap my cock with her ass pumping to the rhythm. Then slowed once again and let the tender petals part as she rubbed me along her tender opening. I could hear her breathe even in the noise of the club. I reached out and laid my hand on her hip and she spun as if she'd been struck, shock on her face momentarily before it softened and she wagged in finger in a No-No gesture. She bent forward and slid her breasts along my hardness and higher onto my chest, she kept going until my face parted her mounds and I could feel the cooling moisture of her efforts on my cheeks. She leaned her head down brushing her lips on my ear, feeling it and tasting it. "Don't touch my naughty boy. I can touch you but you mustn't touch me or Frank over their will toss you out." I looked over at frank who smiled back as he tugged on his shirtsleeves to give his arms more room. "Just sit back and enjoy yourself and I'll give you the most I can." She finished in a husky whisper. With that she slowly undid the buttons on my shirt and pulled it open to either side. She once again sunk to her knees and began to undo the buttons on my Levi's. Reaching in she pulled me free of the boxers I wore beneath. She grasped my hardness and began to stroke it slowly to the beat of the music. I watched time and again as the head sunk into her tiny curled fist while her eyes lingered just over staring deeply into mine. One of her hands disappeared and I could only imagine what it was doing as she leaned her head down and I felt her hot breath swirling around my balls. She kept her mouth just a fingers width from my skin as she slid up breathing along my entire shaft. She released me and briefly used her breasts to stoke it before settling back on her knees and wrapping me in her grip once again. She stroked and I felt it, like never before I began to feel the orgasm so long before it actually took place. She leaned forward again reversing her hand so the heel of it faced me. She looked deep into my eyes as she stuck her tongue out and hovered it just off my shaft mimicking like she was licking it before reaching the head and wetting her lips as if cleaning up any she'd missed. I groaned and she smiled looked deep into my eyes with a pouting expression and mouthed "PLEASE." I felt the contraction and my vision dimmed as it felt like a quart of cum lept from my cock landing upon my bar chest. She slowed her pumping to long slow strokes as a second third and forth stream splashed upon my smoldering skin. As I lay there panting she leaned up and drew a single red nail through the creamy white issue and lifted just a touch from me on sucked her finger clean. "Thank You sweetie" she whispered and turned to gather her things. Tiny Dancer AUTHOR'S NOTE: this story is part of a writing challenge. No AHer's were hurt or seriously maimed in the writing of these stories. These stories are spoofs and are supposed to be funny ---- so laugh dammit. ------- List of Characters: Harry Paranuckles: Salvor-Hardon Manni Cure: Sophia Jane Fook Yu: ABSTRUSE Inde X: Vella_ms Thumms: Matriach Glitzy: Cloudy Pinkie: ElizabethT Friends who would pick on Harry: Ted and Eric – (haha) TINY DANCER Harry's heart stopped beating for just a second when he saw her. She was beautiful! Her body, lean and lithe - she was a dancer...and a magnificent one at that! Harry would watch her through his hi-rise office window. He was a pencil pusher or at least that's what the letters on his window said. It was his fate. Fate! Bugger on that. Was it fate to always have a blister or indents on your skin after long hours of holding a pencil? No. Harry didn't believe in fate. At night, after his long hours of work, he would stare outside his office window and gaze at the City lights and just dream. He would dream of better days to come. One night he heard music and when his eyes finally found the source, he saw her! He watched for hours as she danced...her body swaying to and fro, perfectly in sync to the music. He squinted to see the letters written on her window – "M. Cure's School of Dance." Harry loved to dance, although you'd swear he had two left thumbs...but he tried. Now, seeing this vision, it made him want to dance and dance well! Closing his eyes, Harry pictured all the other guys laughing at him. "Oh, Harry Paranuckles, the dancer!" "Trade your sweater in for a tutu?" "What are you, a Pinkie?" Sure, they'd make fun of him, but he would be able to dance with her. Maybe, just maybe life would be so much better. After days of twiddling, Harry decided to take the plunge - he'd walk those fingers up to M. Cure's School of Dance and be able to dance with the girl of his dreams!! After giving his body a good crack, Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door - no answer, but then the door swung open, music tumbled into the hallway sweeping Harry inside. There stood his dream girl. "Um...hi...I'm Harry..." Harry swallowed hard. "Harry Paranuckles." He nearly fainted when she twirled around turning to him. Her face was beautiful! She was perfect! "Hi." The soft voice broke through the music. "I'm Manni..Manni Cure." Harry gulped. His throat was suddenly dry and his voice squeaked out, "I want to dance." Manni smiled. She twirled and twirled until she reached him. Face to face they stood. She was so close Harry could see all the lines of her skin. She was one in a million! No, Harry thought again as he saw a faint scar across her left side, there was no one like her in the world! "I've seen you Harry." Manni continued as she circled him. The music began to fill Harry's very being and he too circled her. "The way you twirl your pencil..." Manni nodded to the window facing Harry's. "You make it dance." Manni stepped away and motioned for Harry to watch. Sprinkling pixie dust on the floor she began to dance - her dance started from top left straight with a slight curve and down again, twirling to the center, then a quick leap to the right and down. Pausing for a moment to sway her body to the music, Manni then leapt again, twirling, twirling down to a point, then twirling, twirling up curing into another point. Harry's mind was frantically trying to figure out what his "pencil dance" was...his gaze darting between the design on the floor and Manni's graceful figure. She paused once more, smiling at him then leaping yet again as if in slow motion. Her dance nearly done as Harry's heart just about stopped. Oh! No! This could not be! Harry thought. He squinted again, seeing all so clearly. Manni, sensing Harry's dismay stopped in mid-jump, falling to the ground with a loud thump. "Oh!" Manni whimpered. Harry ran to her said, stroking her lovely skin. "Are you hurt?" he whispered, fearing that she may have chipped something. "No...just..." Manni stammered, the music finally ending and silence filled the air. As Harry looked up into Manni's face, he was sure she would see his embarrassment, but she was looking beyond him. Harry knew what she saw. On the floor, in her thumb print through the pixie dust was, "H + M". "It took me days, months even to figure it out." "Manni, I.." Harry stammered, not sure what to say. "Harry, please.." "Oh, please this..." A voice bellowed out. Turning, both Harry and Manni's eyes wide, landed upon 5 women at the doorway. Four figures appeared to be bowing as the middle one stood frightfully tall. "My name is Fook Yu." Said the tall woman. "You remember me, don't you?" Manni's face turned pink with embarrassment. "Um..yes, of course." Scrambling to stand, Manni and Harry faced the group of women. Taking a long look, Harry studied the women as they began to rise. One was very small, a bit stubby, next to her was a very accusing looking woman, medium in size, and the one just after Fook Yu was quite glitzy, and wore a number of Diamond necklaces, standing slightly behind her was a smaller woman all donned in pink. The one to Fook Yu's immediate right seemed very odd, somewhat stiff and stared him down. Harry's gaze fell from her quickly. "Of course you remember Fook. I'm from the Fook Yu/Fook Me theater in the Village?" The woman, not giving Manni a chance to answer continued. "Your little 'Pencil me in' dance was given, if you pardon the expression, the thumbs up. Production starts next week." "What? Next week?" Manni squealed. "But..I.." "What? You got a problem wit dat?" The accusing one asked pointedly. "Inde! Relax, I think she's just excited." Said shorter female, with a very proper, English accent. Fook Yu patted Inde soothingly. "Don't mind Ms. X. She's my number one. Nothing gets to me without going by her first." "I'm so happy Ms. Fook...I mean Yu Fook...Ms. Yu. I'll be by first thing." Manni's voice cracked. After some discussion, the group left. Manni and Harry just looked at each other in silence. "Harry, do you believe in fate?" Manni asked as she glided over to the CD player and hit the button. "Well, I believe things are done for a reason." Harry replied as the music began to fill the little studio. "Harry, I was prepared to quit dancing until your pencil pushing gave me renewed hope." Manni circled Harry, their bodies just millimeters away. "Now, look at what has happened!" Harry smiled as he swayed and twirled with Manni at his side. "I dreamed of this day, you know." Harry confided softly. "I did too, Harry. Your window said you were an accountant. I was going to come to you once my business started up." For a few moments Manni and Harry danced in silently. Their movements creating beautiful designs in the pixie dust. "Are you my dream, Harry?" Manni asked softy. "Perhaps.." Harry replied, his heart filling with joy. "Perhaps I'm your fate." Tiny Dancer I have always loved the stars. On a clear night, like that night, I can watch the universe in its slow eternal dance. Sometimes, as I sit and watch the light from distant suns, I wonder where she is, how she is doing. I will never know what really happened that night. I will never understand who, or what, she was. I will never see her again I fear, but sometimes it is enough just to remember. It was here that we met, outside my little house in the hills. I was sitting on my front porch, lost in thought. My hands playing random tunes on my old guitar. I stared out into the night, seeing nothing. At first I didn't even notice the lights. Hundreds of tiny multicolored lights were flying around my house. Lightning bugs, was my first thought, but the lights were too bright and constant. Bemused, I stopped strumming my guitar. The reaction was instant. The lights darted away from my house in all directions. Within a few seconds, they were all gone. After a bit of staring around into the night, I convinced myself that I had nodded off and dreamed the lights. I decided that if I were that tired I should hit the sack. Setting my guitar on the dresser, I undressed and got into bed. Before long, I was asleep. An hour or two later, a sound woke me. It was a strange twanging sound. In the dark I saw a light flying around my guitar. From this close, I could see features inside the white light. It was a tiny naked woman, no bigger than my hand. She was flying around my guitar, plucking at the strings. It looked like she was trying to figure out how to make it work. Flashing an angry red, she shook her tiny fist at it. When I saw her start kicking it, I decided to intervene. "Hey now," I said. "Stop that." Startled, she flew up and hit the ceiling with a thunk. Her light, the only light in the room, went out. I couldn't see what happened, but hitting the ceiling had knocked her unconscious. I got out of bed and stepped cautiously to the door. Flipping my light on, I saw she had fallen to the floor. I carefully picked her up and took her into the kitchen. Setting her on the table, I took the chance for a closer inspection. She was a pretty little thing. Flawless white skin covered her tiny naked body. Her ebony hair looked as though it would reach at least to her ankles. On her back, she had wings. They were filmy, delicate looking things, covered in what looked like glitter. My inspection was interrupted as she opened her eyes. They stared up at me as I loomed over her, and a smile to rival a sunrise spread across her face. Rubbing her head, she giggled. In the kitchen lights her returned aura was barely visible, but it flashed bright green as she laughed. "Moosic?" she asked. She had a high piping voice, like a flute talking. "Music?" I replied. "You want music?" "Yas, moosic." I started to go get my guitar, then stopped myself. I knew the perfect tune for her, and I needed my piano for that. Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" just seemed to fit. She followed me into my living room, zipping around leaving sparkling trails in the air. I decided that her light show was worth playing in the dark. As I started playing the clear, soft notes of the song, she began to dance. She flew gracefully around the room glowing brightly, her colors changing with the notes. As she danced, she began to sing. She didn't bother with trying to use the words. She wove music with her voice, playing it like an instrument. Playing and singing it took me a bit to notice that hers was not the only voice. Outside I could see what looked like a thousand balls of light dancing in the air. They flashed with my song and I could hear them singing. It was my own personal choir of angels. They were taking my music and weaving their voices around it, making it something bigger, something perfect. The glorious music flooded the air. I imagine my closest neighbors, miles away, could hear it. My door opened and the lights came in to dance. Abandoning the song, I started to play with the music. I threw in variations on the tune, slowly changing it into another. It was like having a jam session with god. They took anything I threw out and turned it into pure beautiful music. To this day I don't know how long we went on. Time stretched, allowing me to play for a century that night. I don't know how many songs I sang, or how many tunes I played. All I know is that it was music beyond anything I have ever heard. It was music I hear in the corners of my mind to this day. They call me the most talented musician of the age, but nothing I have ever played even comes close. Eventually, as all things must, it ended. The lights began to move off into the growing light of dawn. I went outside and called out my thanks to the departing lights. None responded, but I felt that they had enjoyed themselves. I stumbled, exhausted, back into my room. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I slept all day, more than twelve hours. I might have slept on through that night as well, but something woke me. Opening my eyes, I saw her. She had returned, the same small winged critter that had woke me last night. I am not sure how I knew it was the same one, but I did. Drifting down, she landed on my naked chest. She stared down at me with her hands on her hips. Her wings were spread out behind her, glimmering in her subdued aura. Something compelled me to hold her gaze. A bright light flared up around us, flashing through many colors. As it faded, I saw that instead of sitting on my chest, she was now straddling it. Looking around, I realized that I was now her size. "What the hell?" She only giggled in response. I was even more surprised when she leaned down and kissed me. She looked innocent, but she kissed like a pro. She fluttered her wings, covering us with glitter. She giggled against my mouth and pulled away. I went with her, straight up into the air! We flew across the room and out the open window. She pulled me up into the night, accelerating at a fantastic pace. The moon shot past. Looking back I saw the earth shrink into a featureless light, then disappear. We flew for what felt like a long time. She showed me the beauty and wonder of the universe. She showed me Saturn's rings close up, how the light sparkled on a million concentric rings. She showed me the molten plains of mercury, an eternal sea of molten beauty. She showed me many things, and then she showed me the most amazing of all. She showed me herself. We drifted over beautiful craggy surface of earth's moon. She squeezed my hand, so I tore my eyes from the incredible view and looked at her. She kissed me. She moaned softly as my tongue parted her full, pink lips, her hand went through my hair, dragging her nails along my scalp. When we pulled apart, she sighed a musical sigh. One of her hands was now running down my side, then over my stomach. Her long, slender fingers closed over my cock, squeezing hard. She giggled as she stroked it. I moved over her body and held my head directly over her. She spread her legs, revealing her opening and its surrounding soft flesh. She cried out as my tongue slipped over, and then into her wet slit. Soon, she was writhing and bucking up toward me like a wild thing, grinding against my mouth and groaning. After what seemed like only a few moments, she screamed out her climax. Her entire body pushed against me. She held the pose a second, unable to move, then collapsed, Limp in my arms. After a long limp moment, she put one thigh over his waist, hooked her ankles behind me, and aimed my organ toward her ready entrance. She started to move down, the head of my cock pressing into her slowly. She grinned down at me. "Moosic," she said. "Music? No I don't have anything to play music with here." "No, Moosic!" She repeated, gesturing out at the stars. Then I heard it. I have read that the universe follows certain rules. I have read about gravity and orbits, the things that keep the stars on their course. I have even heard it described as a dance. I never expected the dance to have a tune. It was like all the best symphonies you ever heard played at the same time on all the musical instruments that ever existed. It was beautiful and wonderful, but it was not something I could truly enjoy. It was too complex. It was too big to understand. I was fully within her now, feeling the warmth and softness of this strange woman down my entire length and the gentle squeezing of her vagina. She saw that I now heard the music. She trapped my gaze and stared into my eyes, using her body to slide my cock slowly in and out of her. I felt her moving to the rhythm of the music. As she stared into my eyes, I felt her thoughts. She showed me how our lovemaking was a part of the dance of stars and planets. I saw how everything reacted to any little thing we did, and I felt something encouraging us. There we were, Linked mind to mind, making love with the universe. Stars sighed in passion as we kissed. Galaxies spun with the motion of our bodies. The music increased in tempo, and her movements became more hasty, her breathing shallow. She was being more vocal, now, her high-pitched cries coming with each motion. I felt her body convulse in my arms, and she lowered to kiss me. Suns went nova at our climax, the sensations from everything else keeping us in synch. I was barely aware of anything else as she flew us back to my house, and snuggled up against me in the bed. A short time later I felt her rise and pull away. I turned to look up at her, and saw she was crying. She began singing a song of pure music. It was a song of goodbye. The aching beauty of her voice and the tears streaming on her face told me that she loved me, and would miss me, but she had to leave. I followed her out and saw her fly into the air. She was soon joined by a bright swarm of lights and her sad song blended with the others to make the perfect symphony I had been a part of before. The music drifted away as they vanished into the night sky. I stood there, outside my house, staring up into the sky, until dawn took the stars away. I have loved her ever since. In those two nights I lost the two greatest chances at love I will ever have. The music I play is only a pale shadow of what I heard that night. The women I meet are never a match for the shade of her love. Nevertheless, I still have a hope. That night was more than thirty years ago. I haven't aged a day in that time. Perhaps one day she will return. I will still be here, sitting on my porch, playing my guitar, staring into the night, waiting for light.