0 comments/ 25137 views/ 1 favorites Learning the Dance Ch. 01 By: klvyoenne "Valentines day, the perfect day for a wedding," Christy thought, as she stood in the dressing room of the church and gazed at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her honey-blonde hair was tied to the top of her head in tight braids and cascaded down her neck and onto her shoulders in soft ringlet curls. Doe-like brown eyes with long lashes gazed back at her, from the heart-shaped face in the mirror. Oblivious to the bustle of activity from bridesmaids and attendants around her, Christy lifted her gloved hand gently fingered the twin drops of white pearl that dangled from her ears and circled her long neck. The earrings were borrowed from her maiden aunt, the necklace a treasured gift from her aging mother. Her mother had worn the necklace and earrings at her own wedding 40 years earlier, and, according to rumor, they were the only things she was left wearing on her wedding night. Nervously, Christy smoothed the front of her gown. The hand sewn gown fitted her long lines and soft curves perfectly from the soft swell of her breast to the gentle turn of her tiny ankle; her bosom and tummy kept firmly in place by the tight stays of the corset she wore underneath. Christy dreamed of this day, and this dress, long ago, when she was a girl of 15, and now at 28, she wasn't sure if the image in the mirror was truly real. As she gazed at herself, Christy thought back on the years leading up to this moment. She had, as a teenager, thought about boys—and wondered about what it would be like to be a 'regular' girl; attending school, going to dances, movies, parties; but, Christy was not a 'regular' girl. A prodigy, home-schooled by her mother, Christy entered college at 16, graduating with her pre-med degree in honors in just over three years. Accepted into medical school at 19, she received her doctorate at 22. Christy continued her education and specialized as a reconstructive and plastic surgeon; so, while she was not unfamiliar with human anatomy, functions of the reproductive organs of both sexes, and the basic techniques of sex; she had no practical experience on the subject. She'd never even really masturbated—she'd tried a few times, stimulating herself in all the appropriate places, but she couldn't get past her inhibitions, she was mechanical, and detached. Without any real frame of reference, she was just going through the motions, and the act left her feeling unfulfilled. Deep inside, Christy wondered if she was truly ready for what lie ahead of her tonight. As a gangly and bespectacled teen, kids her own age delighted in tormenting and torturing her for her intelligence. Girls shunned her, boys ridiculed and mocked her, and in defense, Christy retreated into her world surrounded by books and her loving parents. Christy had tried to avoid emotional entanglements and physical relationships with classmates, teachers, and members of the staff. Partially, she surmised, because she knew the dangers and risks involved with sexual encounters; but mostly, because she was afraid of getting hurt. She knew that the popular rumor was that she was a lesbian, and although she wasn't, the rumor made it easier all around for her to avoid relationships with men. "I could have been, though," she thought with a distracted smile. It had been Valentines Day, then too, and Gloria, a beautiful African-American resident from her rotation had invited her out for drinks after their shift ended. They had often enjoyed each other's company at work, but neither one had a date this Valentines evening, so they jokingly agreed to be each other's date. "Who needs men, anyway?" Gloria quipped, as they walked arm in arm over to the Swinging Door Saloon. "Ain't nothing a man can do with his one penis that I can't do with my 11 mini-penises!" she said as she wiggled her fingers and stuck out her tongue. Christy laughed at her friend's obvious joke. Several times during the evening, one or the other was approached for a dance, or offered a drink. Christy simply refused, but each time Gloria was asked, she told the interloper, "I'm with her," and pointed a Christy. Eventually, the men stopped asking, and together they danced, and drank, and thoroughly enjoyed the night. Christy felt liberated, unusually relaxed, and strangely tingly—the more she drank, the more she tingled. She'd felt this way only once before. When she was 17, the son of man her father worked with had taken her on a date to the drive-in movie theatre in his big red Chevrolet. While at the movie, he'd reached over and put his arm around her right shoulder, rubbing it gently. When she'd looked over at him, he'd smiled at her—his green eyes sparkling in the reflected light from the movie. "You're shivering, "he'd said, easing gently closer to her. Christy felt his warm body, and his strong arms holding her close as they sat there, not watching the movie. A tingle had spread through her body then, and his touch warmed her, as the whiskey did now. Several times on the dance floor, she'd marveled at how free Gloria was; from the flash of her bright white smile to the alluring shake of her rounded bottom—her movements relaxed and uninhibited. When Gloria's body pressed against her on the dance floor, Christy's heart raced, her face flushed. She was overwhelmed with the newness of it all—the feeling of a warm, soft, body bouncing and rubbing against hers. She was excited by the energy and excitement of dancing, and drinking, and slowly, she became more and more aroused each time Christy felt the brush of her friend's arm against her nipple, or felt Gloria's hand on her hip; but it was nothing more than good-natured fun had between two girl friends. Christy was disappointed when the bartender announced last call, but Gloria invited Christy back to her apartment. "No need for the fun to end now," she'd said with an impish smile, and since neither was scheduled to work for the next two days, Christy agreed. As the girls stepped out into the chill February air, Christy realized her eyes stung from the smoky bar, and ears were ringing from the loud country music that had boomed all night from the jukebox. Walking down the sidewalk, arm in arm, Christy stumbled and grabbed a parking meter. Gloria slipped a strong arm around Christy's slim waist to steady her friend. Leaning into Gloria, Christy felt the warmness of her neck seep into her cheek and forehead as she rested her head on Gloria's shoulder. She inhaled deeply, drinking in the aroma of Gloria's light perfume mixed with the salt-tang of perspiration and the bite of tobacco and liquor from the bar. Christy felt a slight tingle at the nape of her neck, and shivered as she felt the flesh on her bosom tighten as Gloria glanced down at her, her left eyebrow arching delicately and a quizzical look on her face. Christy felt warm and safe as Gloria squeezed her just a little tighter, drawing Christy slightly closer to her as they stood on the corner. Eventually, the two girls piled in to a big yellow taxi, and after Gloria gave the driver directions, they chatted a bit about life. Christy remembered how at one point in the conversation Christy blurted, "I've never been with a man, you know, " Once upstairs, Gloria put on some soft music, filled with drums, and turned the lights down low, and left Christy in the living room as she went to change. There were rumors around the hospital, about Gloria--but there were rumors about her as well, and Christy knew she wasn't a dyke (as the men of the department charmingly described her) and so she surmised Gloria wasn't one either. She guessed that Gloria was just a strong, free-spirited, individual who, like herself, had neither the time nor the desire to get involved in a relationship. While her friend changed, Christy looked around. Gloria's apartment was full of interesting tribal objects: masks, tapestries, and brightly colored weavings, as well as strange statues of African tribes women with protruding breasts. Dozens of candles of various sizes and lengths lined the window panes and sat in sconces on the walls and in trays and candelabra around the room. n a shelf, there was an interesting set of busts, carved from a deep mohogony or some other dark wood, that captured her attention. Obviously a pair, one of a woman with drooping breasts, another of a woman with pert breasts. Christy didn't notice Gloria's return, she was closely examining a statuette of a woman performing fellatio on a jackal headed man with gigantic, erect phallus she gripped with both hands. "That's one of my favorites," Gloria commented. "It's Egyptian-esque. The woman is paying homage to the god Anubis. In Egyptian mythos, Anubis guided the souls of the dead through the underwold to Osiris' presence, where their hearts would be judged." Gloria bushed lightly against Christy as she slid by her to cross the room and flopp on the couch. As she moved, Gloria continued impishly, "Maybe she's been naughty in life, and is trying to bribe the God in death. What do you think?" Learning the Dance Ch. 02 ... "Maybe she's been naughty in life, and is trying to bribe the God in death. What do you think?"... Christy listened as Gloria poured her a glass of wine and explained that things were very different in the tribal cultures of Africa than they were in America. Many tribal cultures still believed in animism, or spirit worship. They worship of the divine spirit in all living things, plants, animals, people. Christy listened to Gloria's soft voice, as she explained that in some cultures the tribes would praise the gods through dance and song, and the women's undulating bodies, stomping feet, and ululating cries, were all a prayer to the tribe's ancestor gods. Sometimes the spirits of the gods would fill the bodies of the men, and women. No longer man, or woman, but an embodied animal-god, excited by the beauty of the women, and the frenzy of the dance would mate with as many of the women as possible. Christy blushed fiercely, at Gloria's comment. Sex was a taboo subject in their household. It was never discussed, and Gloria's easy description about a lustful group orgy made her both uncomfortable and excited. She hoped Gloria couldn't see her blush in the dim light of the candles. "People dance, I dance," commented Gloria, "in honor of my spirit ancestors." Christy shivered as she watched her friend's eyes look her up and down, appraising her. "I enjoyed dancing with you tonight, you know—I think you enjoyed dancing with me too..." "Yes, I did," replied Christy. "I think I drank too much though, I'm feeling rather lightheaded." "Perhaps you should sit down," said Gloria. "Come sit by me." Christy set the statuette of the dog-headed god down and went to sit on the couch next to Gloria who just smiled at her and continued her story. "Throughout the ages," she began, "From the beginning of time, before all of recorded history, our people have danced. I say 'our people' because really, you and I are from the same place. All human life is descended from the same 'family' of people. Scientists have studied mitochondrial DNA—the DNA passed down by women from generation to generation, and there is strong evidence to believe that all of us, we are all related. We date back to a common "EVE" a family of related women." Mesmerized by the melodious sound of Gloria's voice, Christy listened—enraptured by the excitement of Gloria's dissertation on the evolution of women. "It is commonly believed that we're all descended from peoples who came of the lands between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Some stayed in the area—some peoples migrated to other places. Inbreeding and geographic differences caused mutations in the genomes, and lightness and darkness of skin color evolved." "But," Christy interrupted, "If we are all descended from the same family, wouldn't that make us sisters?" "Yes," Gloria said, as she rose from the couch and walked around the room lighting the many candles. "You and I are sisters, as you are sisters with all women, through all the world. Isn't that wonderful?" Christy nodded. An only child, Christy never knew the joy of sisterhood. She thought back on her loneliness growing up, how she'd always wished to have a sister to confide in, and with whom she could share her triumphs and fears. "My people celebrate with song, and with dances," Gloria said, quietly, watching Christy's reactions, reading her body language, sensing her excitement. "They dance, for all sorts of reasons-- to ask for rain, they dance their dead into the afterlife, they dance to celebrate marriages, and births, and they dance for fertility—not just for their own fertility, but also for the fertility of the whole village, and for all the crops they grew and animals they hunt." "But there were other dances," said Gloria, her voice low and husky. "Secret dances, special dances, where the women danced together, without the men." Christy gazed at beautiful Gloria, entranced by her smile, and the flicker of the candlelight. "The priestesses would dance secret dances with the unmarried virgins, teaching them the women's ways." Christy chuckled as she imagined Gloria as priestess, with her wide hips and large breasts swaying to the beat of conga drums, and a small group of thin, flat, but pert, chested, giggling girls imitating her movements. "By learning the secret dances that only women dance, they unlocked the secrets of their sensuality. They used the dance to attract a husband, to show they were strong, healthy, women capable bearing strong, healthy babies... They entered the dance girls, they exited, women." Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, Christy realized the meaning of Gloria's words. Gloria wanted to dance with HER. "I don't know how to dance," Christy commented softly, looking down and shuffling her feet. " I will teach you a special dance, sister." Gloria responded gently. "It's a special dance, a secret dance. It's a dance that only women-sisters can dance, as only women understand the steps." Christy slowly sipped her wine, letting the warmth spread from her tummy out to the tips of her tingly fingers, and marveled at how Gloria's deep brown eyes sparkled and reflected the flicker of yellow candlelight as she passionately described ancient dances, of her people, of their people. "Watch, sister," Gloria said, as she stood and turned up the music. Christy obeyed. Gloria began slowly dancing to the deep booms of the music playing on the stereo. Effortlessly, she gyrated her hips from side to side, flexing her large, firm, buttocks and thighs stepped with the music Riveted, Christy watched as her friend danced in the center of the room, Gloria flung her head forward and backward, and her long black braids lashed against the smooth, dark, skin on her back, exposed shoulders, and breasts. The tempo increased, and Christy could see Gloria's unfettered breasts bounce and sway as she threw back her shoulders, and arched her back to the rhythmic beat of the tribal music. Occasionally, her breasts would bounce higher than the top of Gloria's nightgown, and Christy was surprised to see a silver ring protruding from each tiny brown nut of Gloria's nipple. Gloria's face was flushed, a burgundy blush to her cheeks and lips. Christy wondered what those lips would feel like, pressed against hers. The tingle that had started in her fingertips and toes spread inward, upward. She touched her lips and realized they were throbbing, swollen, as were her own nipples. Her heart, and her crotch, throbbed with each beat of the drum, each step of her friend. Unconsciously, Christy shifted her weight, flexing her buttocks and thighs to the music as she watched Gloria dance. She felt very, very hot, her bra felt uncomfortably tight, and her panties unusually moist inside her pants. Christy downed her glass of wine. It hit the bottom of her stomach and made her head spin. Gloria smiled at her as she extended her hand. "Dance with me," Learning the Dance Ch. 03 Gloria's face was flushed, a burgundy blush to her cheeks and lips. Christy wondered what those lips would feel like, pressed against hers. The tingle that had started in her fingertips and toes spread inward, upward. She touched her lips and realized they were throbbing, swollen, as were her own nipples. Her heart, and her crotch, throbbed with each beat of the drum, each step of her friend. Unconsciously, Christy shifted her weight, flexing her buttocks and thighs to the music as she watched Gloria dance. She felt very, very hot, her bra felt uncomfortably tight, and her panties unusually moist inside her pants. Christy downed her glass of wine. It hit the bottom of her stomach and made her head spin. Gloria smiled at her as she extended her hand. "Dance with me," Christy's heart raced, and the words of her friend echoed in her ears... "Dance with me..." Gloria said again, an urgent, husky wantonness in her voice. Her desire evident, Gloria glowed with the glisten of lust; a slight sheen of sweat covered her chocolate body and Christy couldn't resist the urge that compelled her. She slowly rose from the couch and taking Gloria's hand in hers, turned it over and with her eyes closed slowly licked the underside of Gloria's wrist. Christy felt Gloria's pulse in her wrist, and tasted the salt on her skin. "I thought you'd taste like a chocolate bunny," Christy said, laughingly. Gloria paused for a moment, but only a moment. She slid behind Christy and licked gently at the junction of her neck and right shoulder. Christy shivered slightly and tipped her head to the left, to allow Gloria better access to the Y of her neck. Gloria slid her hands up Christy's arms, the palms of her hands softly slipping up and down. Christy closed her eyes and leaned her head back into the Glory of Gloria. Gloria whispered into Christy's ear, "Just relax... relax, and feel the music. Let the music take you," Gloria reached under Christy's shirt and helped her peel it off. "Here, baby... let's take this off. You'll be able to move better with less clothes." Christy luxuriated in the feel of Gloria's hands on her body. She breathed raggedly as Gloria's hands explored her breasts and tummy and as Gloria's pelvis ground into her buttocks. Gloria wrapped her arms tightly around Christy's waist as she began stepping first right, then left. "Now, baby, step... step... step... that's right..." Gloria coached. "Now, each time you step, thrust that pretty pelvis just a little... that's right, both forward and back, left and right..." As Christy stepped into the music, with her eyes closed, and was carried away on a cloud of the beat, Gloria pinched her nipples through her white lace bra, making them stand up and out. Gloria slid her bra straps down her shoulders, letting them rest on her upper arms; she trailed kisses down Christy's neck and shoulders, raking her teeth gently across her skin. Gloria unfastened Christy's bra, expertly undoing the two simple snaps in the back, and slid it down Christy's arms. She tossed it onto the couch and reached up weighing Christy's now unfettered breasts with her hands. "Amazing," Gloria quipped. "What?" Christy asked in a fog. "Your boobies, baby! They're perfect. They fit perfectly in my hands," "Oh!" exclaimed Christy, as Gloria pulled, pinched, and twisted her nipples between her fingers. Gloria continued to rock her hips back and forth, swaying in time with the drumming, thrumming, pounding of the music. Christy found herself stepping and swaying in time, as Gloria kissed her neck and fondled her breasts. She'd never been this close to another person, let alone another woman, before. Overcome with the sensation, the sheer sensuality and sexuality of it all, Christy experienced her first climax. What began as a slight pressure, a tingling mixed with throbbing, in her crotch, became an overflowing volcano of sensation. As Gloria guided her hips and mauled her breasts, her clit pulsed with the beat of the drums; contracting and relaxing with each step she took. Her eyes opened wide, as did her mouth. She pushed her breasts forward as she arched her back and leaned into Gloria's embrace. Christy's knees buckled as her legs gave way; but, Gloria held her upright by sliding her left hand up to her neck and wrapping her right arm tightly around Christy's tiny waist. Gently, Gloria eased Christy to the floor, where she lay on her back for several minutes, luxuriating in the softness of the thick, dark carpet beneath her. Gloria cooed over her, and knelt beside her. She ran her hands down Christy's flat belly, stopping for a moment to probe her belly button. Gloria leaned over her, and tenderly trailed kisses across the span of belly just between her hips, pausing to probe her belly button with her tongue. Her kisses continued their upward exploration, to the crevasse between Christy's breasts. Gazing tenderly at the girl-woman on the carpet in front of her, Gloria licked Christy's extended nipples; the left breast first, then the right. Softly, with great tenderness and exquisite care, she suckled Christy's left breast, softly massaging the creamy flesh with the very tips of her teeth, and her full, pouty lips. As she leaned across her friend, Gloria's tits hung low, drooping and draping across Christy's right breast. Christy gasped as she felt the rings in Gloria's nipples brush lightly across her right breast and the flesh on her chest. Christy reached up, and through the silken fabric of Gloria's nighty, she gently massaged Gloria's tits, touching them as a child would touch the face and hands of an old, treasured, porcelain doll. As Gloria switched from the left breast to the right, Christy gently pulled on the nipple rings, much to Gloria's pleasure, and made Gloria's nipples stand out "Did it hurt?" Christy asked quietly, as she flicked her finger across Gloria's nipple rings. "Yes, babygirl," responded Gloria as she gently but firmly massaged Christy's globes. "But, many things that make us beautiful hurt." As Gloria slid her hands down Christy's flanks she continued, "When a man takes you for the first time, babygirl, it might hurt." Gloria punctuated her comment by reaching between Christy's legs and cupping her crotch. She slid her hand up Christy's body and allowed her palm to rest on Christy's flat belly, "When you carry your children in your belly, it might hurt as your belly stretches and your joints loosen and your ligaments stretch. Undoubtedly, when your babies are born, you will feel pain." Gloria roughly pinched Christy's nipples, digging her nails into the tender fleshy knobs. "Even when your child nurses at your breast you will feel discomfort. First, as your breasts grow, stretch, and fill with sweet, life-giving milk. Then, your nipples will be sore for a time as your hungry baby sucks. Your beautiful tits will ache for emptying." Tears welled in Christy's eyes at the thought of so much pain. "Then," she stammered, "I don't ever want a man, or babies, or any of that!" Gloria's touch softened, once again becoming a gentle caress. "Ahh, but babygirl... it's all part of the dance. You have to feel the pain, or the pleasure is lessened." Gloria wrapped Christy in her long arms. Tipping her head Gloria kissed Christy firmly on her soft, luscious lips. Extending her tongue into Christy's mouth, she probed passionately. Christy leaned into Gloria's embrace. She wondered where the dance would take her next.