Dance with me (MF)

Dance with me.

Part I

Ros came through the door already smiling. She was about 5’10 with her heels,  but she knew she would kick them off soon. She walked with that confident grace of a practiced dancer. If you looked closely at her hands you could see the history of gymnastics in the way she held her fingers. 
Her black skirt was knee length and when she walked she could barely feel it brush the back of  her knee. But she could feel it and she liked it. She wanted to feel the delicate touches all night.  She came to dance. The halter top she wore sported little words. ” I rock”and “you love me” stood out in particular as her nipples accentuated the letter o. She had on no bra. And no panties.
As she got closer to the back of the room she saw L. He was playing with a drink and drawing something. The veins on the back of his hand cast dark shadows in the harsh overhead light that separated him from the rest of the dark room. 
The sight of his hands made her pussy jump. She was surprised she remembered how they looked,  but in her mind she could still clearly picture him stroking his cock in the video chat. They had talked about dancing. About fucking.  She wanted to make it all real.

She was not sure what would happen. They had spent the entire day in the field working alongside one another and he was a consummate professional. He never once glanced at her ass or tried to look at her tits while she was in her field clothes. But then at the end of the day he had closed his laptop, looked her straight in the eye and asked, “so, are we going to dance, tonight?” Ros’ head spun. She tried to say yes. She had been caught off guard. She must have not actually spoken, because he repeated himself. “Ros? Are we going dancing?”

“Yes. I would like that.”
“Good. So would I.” He had finished the sentence by pulling his lips into his mouth and licking them slightly. Only a peek of his tongue appeared but he may as well have licked her thigh. As his tongue returned to his mouth she was brought out of the trance and her eyes came back up to his. He was looking straight into her eyes and suddenly she felt naked. He smiled. A half smile. Like he knew how naked she felt and was enjoying her vulnerability.

Now, at the table he looks up, through his glasses and over the edge of the table. His eyes climb her legs to the skirt she was wearing on the video chat…was that a month ago? He smiles slowly. And his eyes slide up her waist and around her breasts. They don’t  make it to her eyes, they linger on her lips… he had pointed out her birthmark during their chat. On her lip, a tiny freckle. She subconsciously bit her lip now.pulling it in.  L looked into her eyes. 

She was trapped in his eyes again. She smiled and she feels the lips of her pussy warm slightly as the first hint of her juices escape.

He nods toward the seat beside him for her to come over. He stands and puts his notebook into one of his jacket pockets, as he reaches for her hand to help her up to the tall bar stool.

Part II

She lifted her left leg as he held her upper arm and she slid into the seat next to him. She had not even thought about sitting down. Her mind had been focused on dancing. But now, she did want to be next to him, to focus on him. It seemed like he had the same idea.

The thin material of her skirt let her feel the smooth edge of the fake leather chair brush the lips of her pussy gently, but enough for her to imagine L’s fingers doing the same. His hold on her arm was much more firm than she expected, but it should have been obvious. She saw him holding the iguanas in the field. Normally, both of them would collect the samples. One person would hold the giant lizards still while the other would collect a tissue sample. A few times, when Ros stepped away to use the bathroom, she would come back to him holding an iguana by the back of the head with one hand and using his free hand to collect a sample or insert a tag while he sat on the iguana’s back legs to avoid being scratched by the creatures.

A few times, she felt a bit jealous.

What if he held her down like that? Straddled her? When he worked in the sun, and gripped the iguanas, the veins on the back of his hands stood out, casting serpentine shadows. The hair on his forearms was quite visible but did not obscure his bronzed skin. And she wondered what other things he could do with his hands. Collecting samples was not easy even with help but he was ambidextrous and she knew he switched back and forth in most things.

Even now, as he partly lifted her up into the seat with his right hand just above her left elbow, his other hand swept down to her thigh, at first just resting there, and exceptionally warm in the cold air conditioned club. Maybe she should have worn something warmer, but no, when they started dancing she would warm up quickly. And his hand was so warm, if she could keep him touching her, it would not matter. His right hand let go of her arm as she placed her full weight into the seat and as his fingers opened, his hand and arm slid across her back. He leaned toward her. His left hand weighed on her right thigh and squeezed gently. His fingers were long and if they were higher up her thigh, he could easily have felt how wet she was getting. Between her legs was probably warmer than his hand now. Oh she wanted to compare. His face was getting closer to hers and his fingertips had reached the middle of her back. He curled the tips of his fingers in along her spine, sending shivers up and down. He held her firmly and pulled her up and in to him.
He leaned all the way in and across her body. Her left arm fumbled its way up to reach around and hug him as her right hand came up to his shoulder. Everything felt like it was in slow motion and she saw him lick his lips, but then he simply kissed her on the cheek.

She wanted more.

“It’s so good to see you in regular clothes. You look great” he said into her ear. He was still leaning across her body. He was speaking loudly enough to be heard over the night club’s loud music, but not shouting. She had never seen him shout. Everything seemed so measured with him, like he always had a plan and followed it. Always.
Ros put her right hand up to his cheek and held his face close to hers. His cheek was cool to her touch and she pulled him over to speak into his ear, using the loud noise of the club as an excuse. “Thank you. What were you drawing?”

She could feel his breath. It was a cool contrast to his hand, probably from the ice in his drink.
He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. He smiled. The wicked smile he had in the field when he said “I can do most things with either hand…or both.” A mischievous smile. Like someone that has a secret to share with you that they know you will like, but they want you to beg. L lifted his left hand from her thigh and let his right hand slide all the way around her back, and just under her breast. He leaned into her left ear this time and told her “You’ll see later.”  

Then he sat back on the edge of his stool and waved at the waitress. As she approached, he held up the presidente beer and two fingers. Ros drank beer and he knew from their late night talks. 

Part III

The beers were cold and they talked about everything except iguanas. 
When the music got loud he would lean closer and one of his hands would always find her. His left hand on her exposed knee sometimes, or sometimes higher on her thigh. His long fingers would press the material of the skirt down between her legs. Sometimes, it was his right hand on the small of her back.
She had turned her body toward him on the high square stool. Her feet were up on the rings of the stool. She was tall but not tall enough to touch the floor while perched there. The corner of the seat pointed toward the growing bulge in his pants and her knees were slightly open on either side of it. The chair corner pointing from her pussy to what it wanted more than anything right now. They are a few beers in and anything could happen. 

His left leg is on the floor and he is sitting on the corner of his seat. He is wearing what he calls his “fancy pants”. They are also field pants with fewer holes, and only one or two stains. He had told her he kept them for special occasions and emergencies. One time he had caught a baby feral pig and tied it up with his other field pants, he called them his “pig pants”. He had taken the pig to live on a no kill farm, but could not leave it in the wild because they kill so many things in the forest. The pants he had on now, in the club were a light brown with cargo pockets. She noticed his left cargo pocket seemed to still have a small first aid kit inside. He could be such a boy scout! Always prepared. She wondered if one of those pockets had a condom. 

She could see down into the left pocket when she leaned toward him. His left leg extended to the floor. His right foot sat next to her left on the ring of stool. His thigh was warming hers. He is 6 ft. 1 and not muscular but built like someone who does carpentry for fun and swims in the ocean every chance he gets. Ros leaned toward him now with both hands on the corner of her stool between her thighs. She was having fun talking but wanted to dance. Her stool rocked slightly toward him. His right hand swung up into her naked armpit She had shaved. Not for him but because it made field work more comfortable, but now she was glad she did. His hand caught her weight. But she was still off balance and he was not looking at her. His head was turned toward the table with the beer to his lips. He put the bottle down. And looked down at her. With his right hand he lifted her body up while he stood up straight. His left hand came down to the corner of the chair. And held it so that his four fingers curled under the edge of the seat and his thumb lay between her hands. Instead of leaning in, he pulled the entire stool and her body toward him this time. Her left knee went right up to his right thigh and it seemed even warmer than his hand in the cool room. But she quickly realized it was not his thigh at all but his cock.  He must feel that. She wanted to look down and confirm, but he was looking right into her eyes.
Now that he had pulled her upright they were only a few inches away from each others faces. She could smell his soap. No cologne but she could imagine he took a good hot shower before coming. She could smell the beer and fries on his breath but he also smelled faintly of herbs like rosemary and oregano. He must have cooked before he came as well. He always prepared his food the day before and must have done so early, expecting to be out late. She wondered if he tasted like the spices or if it was just his clothes.

“Ros, it’s time to dance.”
She smiled. And he smiled. And as he did, he pulled his bottom lip in and let his tongue slide out and over it, then he bit it and slowly let it slide back out of his mouth. His lips are full and slightly darker than his brown face. His right hand has not left her side but it has slid down to the middle of her back. His thumb is laying on the seam of her top, just barely touching the outside of her breast, while his fingers open across the muscles of her back. He moves back slightly, so her knee no longer pressed into his dick and she can hop down off the chair. She looks down briefly to fix her skirt and confirms. It was his cock. The head of his penis was pressing against the cloth of his pants. 
Ros looked up. “Thank you” she said and tiptoed slightly,putting her left hand on his bicep and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. But instead, his hand became more firm on her back and held her up on tip toe. His left hand came to the top of her skirt and wrapped around her waist. His lips pressed down into hers. She was surprised at first and her breath caught. Then she relaxed up into his mouth and the firmness of his lips parted. She imagined her thin pink lips being engulfed in his thick darker lips and he stopped. She felt his hand relax on her back without letting go. All his fingers pulled away except for his thumb and middle finger. He drew a line up her back raising little goose bumps and making her tremble. 
He breathed in through his mouth. And she felt the cool air pull between her lips and his. They became dry and she pulled them in to moisten them, but his arm flexed and she felt him hold her steady as his tongue left his mouth to moisten his lips. They were so close together, his tongue brushed her lips as well. Her tongue was slower than his but they met nonetheless. And his tongue pushed its way inside. Sliding down and along the side of hers as her mouth opened to welcome it. It invaded every corner while her tongue climbed over his, then under. She did not open up completely, his tongue felt large in her mouth and she liked how it pressed gently against her teeth. He seemed to like it too and his tongue became even more eager when she sucked on it gently and pressed her teeth lightly to rake along it. And then it was gone. As suddenly as it started, his tongue was back behind his lips and teeth.
He stood up straight. And smiled. His lips popped into a huge grin. An “I knew it” grin. He bent his head back down to her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Then his left hand turned outward to the right hand hanging at her side. He took her hand.
“Time to dance”

He pushed the stool back with his foot and started walking; taking her hand with him and they went onto the dancefloor.

Part IV

Ros had been wanting to dance with him since the first time they met in the field. An now watching his arm connecting her hand to his shoulder, she remembered the first day with him in the field.

There are lots of ways to catch iguanas. And normally they used nets for their work, but L could be impatient at times. When they were at sites with lots of iguanas, he would catch a few with nothing but gloves. Bareback in the sun with field pants, boots and gloves and his hat. 

When they got to the site, he would always sit in the car scoping out the colonies with his binoculars and stripping off his long-sleeved shirt while he counted the animals. Sitting behind him she could see his shoulder muscles ripple beneath his skin. He would reach his right arm back and ask for the binoculars when he needed a better view. He almost always needed a better view.  Ros remembered, he was pointing at the iguanas in the field and describing his plan of attack to her and their field tech in the passenger seat. She was only half paying attention because everytime he switched to a new group of iguanas the muscles in his upper arm would twist like a very large rope. And he had to keep his arm slightly bent because it was long enough for him to touch the windshield if he wanted.  She had moved to the middle of the back seat so she could look down the length of his arm and follow the trail of veins in the direction of the iguanas. She had left one knee behind the passenger seat and the other was now behind L’s. She was close enough to smell the soap on his skin and faintly his sweat always kind of savory. The mix of smells and the heat from his shoulders got her to imagining the length of his fingers buried between her legs. 

And suddenly that is exactly what was happening. The taut muscles in his shoulder flexed and pulled his arm back and she watched in slow motion as the hand she had been thinking about swung down toward the gearshift. Ros thought they were moving to another spot and she was about to move back into her seat behind the field tech in the passenger seat, but her knee was caught and then she saw his hand did not stop. Reaching back, palm up, the lines cut into his biceps became exaggerated. The fingers on his hand looked even longer up close, but now she could see how clean and well taken care of they were. Everything was in slow motion and she could only watch as the back of his hand hit the seat and his middle finger lay on its back perfectly centered. Not only centered in the seat, but with the seam in her own pants and her legs were wide open. She had taken the place of his binoculars.

He leaned to the side and back as his hand slid across the seat toward her crotch. And she looked over at the lonely binoculars that were pointing at her. She had moved them and switched places. The big lenses must have been the exact image of her eyes right now. Like a deer in headlights, she realized what was going on but was not able to stop it. Instead her eyes followed the fingers up the arm to the shoulder and neck of their owner. His head was still fixed forward and his long neck stretched a bit to avoid resting on the shoulder of the big field technician in the passenger seat. And then his fingers connected.

Feeling the strange material, L thought at first that his backpack must be in the way and forced his fingers underneath the surprising weight so that he could grab the bag and toss it on the floor where it normally sat. But when his thumb closed in to capture the bag he realized the material was too full, too firm to be his field pack. His fingers were much too warm for a bag that had driven in the air conditioned jeep for a half an hour. And it felt moist. He knew he had made a mistake and his hand instinctively closed to make a fist as he tried to pull away, but that meant his fingers curled up and though they met some resistance they there was also a soft welcome and his middle finger pressed its way between what felt like two very small but firm pillows. And they moved. Pressing down and forward toward him as his wrist was caught by Ros’s right hand. And he heard her gasp right next to his ear.

“Do you want your binoculars?”
Ros asked. Her grip was firm. She had watched the whole thing unfold and saw when his arm tenses and the ripple went down that arm to the fingers. She could see the moment when he realized what was happening and started to pull away. He could not turn to look back because he would have to drag his face across the field tech’s shoulder. He was trying to sit up. His hand had already forced itself down along her clit, between the lips of her cunt clear to her ass and did not stop until his thumb was resting on her pubic bone. Wow, his fingers were long. She felt like he actually tried to pick her up for a split second before he tensed and let go. As he pulled his hand away, she could feel each finger curling up toward her ass and thighs. His middle finger, the most powerful, drew a path perfectly through her pussy lips. His index and ring finger were gently tracing the outside of her labia between her thighs and her now pussy. Even his pinky made its impression on the back of her right thigh. She felt him approaching her clit with all the energy he had pulled along with his fingers and her ass rocked forward in instinctual anticipation, but her hand snapped down and caught his wrist before he could. She caught his wrist almost before he brushed her clit. Almost. She was too late. When her arm caught his wrist he flexed the muscles that called his fingers into a fist and with a flick, all that sexual energy passed through her clitoris. She gasped. But as calm as she could, she asked him, “Do you want your binoculars?”
“Uh…Yes, please.”
He sat up slightly without looking back. And his hand pulled away from Ros. she relaxed her grip on his wrist and let go as he opened his hand. She shifted her weight and bent over to pick up the binoculars, which she placed in his hand. 
“Thank you.” he said quietly, now looking at her in the rearview mirror. “I did not know you were there.”
“It’s ok. Next time, you can just ask. And I’ll give you what you want.” realizing that it could be taken more than one way.
“Thank you. I’ll DEFINITELY keep that in mind.” a smile grew on his face then. She could only see his eyes, but she knew it was there. A wicked smile.

Part V

Finally, they made it to the dancefloor and the DJ started a familiar bachata instrumental.

His right hand is holding hers as she follows him through the crowd and now his left hand crosses behind his back to replace it. As he spins around to face her, he uses his left hand to pull her right hand behind his back. Her hand catches under his shirt, a long-sleeved black button down. Ros opens her hand to touch his lower back under the shirt. His skin is smooth and slightly wet with the sweat of excitement. She knows her hand must be cold and though he does not shiver, she feels the goosebumps rise along the muscles that border his spine.

Now his hand slides up her arm to her shoulder. And she can feel the wave of goosebumps traveling with it. His right hand suddenly appears just above her waist and he holds her firm but not hard enoough to mark her pale skin. His hands are incredibly warm and he uses both of them to pull her in to his chest. Their bodies line up perfectly. Her legs part slightly to accept his left thigh and the slight bend in his knee lets her push gently against him. She has to look up so she does not hit her forehead against his chin and when she does, his eyes dive into hers. When the sun is in his eyes, they are a caramel color at times and deepem to hazel in the shade. In the club they are dark through his glasses, but no less intense. Her eyes are blue and clear, the narrow irises circling the growing pupils focusing on him and widening in the darkness of the dancefloor. This close to him, she can feel the strange heat that glows from his body. With her back arched slightly her tummy brushes against the buttons on the front of his shirt. Her breasts meet his chest just below the rise of his pectoral muscles. And she can feel them both flex. His right and on her ribcage pulls her up slightly, and his left hand slides across her shoulder and collar to her neck, cradling her head. He kisses her, full and deep on the mouth. The firmpressure of his lips and the warmth of his mouth, flushing her cold cheeks. A wave rises up her body and presses her hips against his thigh. The sensation makes him do the same and she feels the distinct bulge of his dick press against her waist.

Ros’ left hand comes in over his right and presses into his chest. Like pushing herself away from a wall, but the wall gives and his arms relax. His left slides away from her neck to her shoulder, but his thumb follows slowly, reluctantly tracing her colar bone. She can see his full face again and he is smiling. Breathing. Looking at her. Into her. Her open palm clenches into a fist, grabbing a handfull of his shirt, and pulling him in toward her. And his left hand slides immediately into the familiar space on her neck, his mouth is on hers. His tongue wriggles back into her mouth like it wants to get comfortable under the blankets of a warm bed in a cold room. His pinky plays with the knot at the back of her neck that holds her outfit together. His other fingers stretch around the back of her head caught in her red locks. His thumb presses up across her collarbone to the front of her ear. His tongue presses hers. It is long, wet and tastes faintly of presidente beer. 

The kiss is interrupted by their bodies. They start dancing. The familiar rythm of Bachata moving their bodies back and forth aligning her open legs and his muscular thighs as they get close for a moment and then step back. His hands and fingers always press lightly into her when they are apart, she can tell he wants the closeness. She enjoys the movement and when her body swings and spins she can feel his hands never lose touch. As she gets more familiar with his body and the way he moves, she spins more often, letting his fingers draw lines around her body across her bare back and then pull across the material on the front of her top. Bachata, salsa, merengue. They take turns spinning, pushing and pulling one another. She is practiced and fluid in her movements, dancing like a professional and a gymnast. He dances with the confident ease of practice from twenty years of field research throughout the Caribbean, learnt from the bodies of random encounters. 
He smiles the entire time, like there is nothing else in the world, and does not stop looking at her. She notices his eyes drinking in her breasts when she faces him at a distance and her ass when she turns. But when he pulls her in close, his eyes are locked on her lips. His lips pull in and he bites them, sometimes the bottom, sometimes both. It’s the only time his white teeth are not showing in the broad wicked smile. When they hold each other close, face to face, she can feel his desire in his hips as they press against her. When her back presses against his chest, his palm swiftly covers her bellybutton, the long fingers pointing down, crossing the thin band of material at the top of her skirt. His fingertips reach just above the small square of red hair hidden beneath the material. He uses that hand to push her back toward him, to press her ass against his manhood. As they step to the right and left and the motion of their hips let the muscles of her ass work their way around his cock as it wakes up a little more each time. 

They’ve been dancing for about 20 minutes now. She is burning off the alcohol, and his eyes are less playfully mischievous and more lustful. She is getting thirsty and her legs need a break. Plus she wants to save some energy for later. 
One final salsa and they end the dance with a spin into an embrace. Their hands are wrapped around her waist with her back to him.  The spin flung her hair to her right shoulder blade, pointing down her back. His head is over her left shoulder and both of them breathe heavily. The wet, black shirt reflects the light where the moisture has collected outlining his muscles. Her shirt is wet and so is her back. Ros’ hair is dripping and her body is burning from the exertion.  She feels a cold trickle of sweat start behind her ear and start tracing its way down her neck. He is not letting go and instead squeeze her gently and places a kiss directly at the place where her neck back and shoulder meet. She feels the drop of sweat, change its path and instead of following gravity, it takes a detour around his lips, moistening them.

The electricity from the kiss makes her hands open and he releases her. As she turns to smile at him she wraps her hair up, away from her back. His right hand is resting just above the waist of her skirt and this time, as she walks away, his fingers don’t press at all. His hand follows her body like it had become another part of her clothing.

Part VI

They both got water and ice for the road and as they walked back to Ros’ apartment they took turns pulling or pushing each other against buildings. Forcing kisses and pulling away, pretending they were in a hurry, but savoring the ice cold kisses turning warm in the summer night. They were laughing and talking about everything: the iguanas, being geeks in high school and college; but they didn’t talk about what they were feeling. This easy passion.

Ros, stopped at the apartment door to fish the single key out of a hidden pocket in the waistband of her skirt. L had learned there were two. One for the key and another for the few dollars she took with her on a night like tonight along with her ID. The key he felt while they danced, in the front pocket. The ID and cash he knew from watching her magically make them appear and disappear. He could not feel them when her back was pressed against his cock because the curve of her ass held her waist away from him and he was much too distracted to care. But when she faced him and his hand slid down her back, he could feel the slight bulge of material in his palm, before his fingers lay between the cheeks of her ample ass.
She slipped the key into the lock quickly and glanced around the street before opening the door and stepping inside, pulling L behind her. Once he was in, she closed the door gently and put the key back into the lock from the inside, sliding one of the security bolts in place.

“It looks like you want to keep me here for awhile.”

Ros looked over her shoulder, smiled and reached up for the second security bolt. As she turned back to face the door, she felt a hand slide around her waist to her stomach. When she looked down she could see the faint dark outline of his hand under the front of her shirt. And beyond that his right foot next to hers pointing toward her. His left hand now caught the back of her head and she slammed the bolt across harder than she expected too, but just intime as he turned her head toward his and kissed her. Deeper than before. Harder than she had ever been kissed. She adjusted her feet to face him squarely and put her hands up to the back of his bald head. She could feel the rough stubble rowing back to match his chin. He was no longer sweating, but she would fix that soon enough. He felt taller, he was standing almost straight and his legs were together. But he helped her reach his mouth with one hand on the back of her head and another cupping her left breast.
She could feel his left hand tangling in the knot of her halter top as he pressed her face against his and she used both of her hands to hold him there. Suddenly, he let go  of her head. In one motion, his left hand pulled the knot apart. One side of the strap relaxed above her left breast, but held on by the moisture in her skin and the support of his right hand now massaging her breasts. She could feel her small nipples wake up, once again, highlighting the “O” in the word Love. The right strap was still caught by his fingers on her shoulder. The loose end was now tickling her neck slightly, but she could not bring herself to let him go.

In fact, she wanted to hold him with even more of her body. She knew he could take it, so she opened her legs and swung her right leg up and around his thigh, pulling him toward her. The weight of her body pulled his hips against her left leg and they were basically dancing again. His right hand released her breast and slid around her back so his forearm cradled her and her side lay in his elbow. His right hand held her by the nape of her neck and lifted her body slightly, pulling her lips up and away from his. Her leg tightened and pressed his cock deeper into her thigh. The skirt was riding higher and now L could feel the warmth of her pussy pressed against his thigh. And his left hand let go of the strap it was in charge of. Now, she could feel the full weight of her breasts relax and hang softly against his body. This left hand instead reached down and took her ass fully in control. The full measure of his fingers stretched to touch the lips of her pussy and then closed to grip her ass and widen the gap slightly so his leg could move in closer and he could press her against his arm and the wall.

With the added support, Ros adjusted her legs and let her arms back to press against the wall so she could rub her clit against his thigh. He returned the favor by pressing his groin hard against her hip. His dick was no longer hanging down his pants leg and was gradually moving from 6 oclock to 730. Now he used his right hand to support her body as he slid his body downward and stopped with his mouth at the V in her neck where he collarbones met. His tongue lay flat in the bottom of the v and pressed itself into a hard point. And that point drew a line up the side of her neck to her right ear where he breathed in and let out a brief groan.

“Oh! You smell so good!” his tongue continued to her earlobe and up behind her ear. “And you taste even better.”

His body pressed against hers had kept the front of her shirt up, but now that he was dragging his body down along hers, she could feel the straps sliding down across her breasts and finally, they were totally free. He felt the straps fall into his elbows and pulled back slightly to marvel at them. They were perfectly round and the small pink nipples were the only interruption in the smooth surface. Exactly a handful for him, maybe a little more. Maybe just enough to satisfy his mouth with that extra. He pulled his left hand from her ass and cupped her breasts and dove in. He was right. When he held her breast in his hand the remainder fit his mouth beautifully. He flattened his tongue to rake his taste buds up over her nipple, making her back arch slightly to push it further into his mouth and as he brought his face up higher he breathed in. He smelled the faint essence of her pussy juices on his fingers from earlier.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/h03d8v/dance_with_me_mf