Feel the Music

Showing no cowardice I open the little vial, pour the few drops within into my glass then fill the glass halfway with the white wine. I give the goblet a swirl then raise it to my date.

“To you, Heather.”

She smiles and raises her glass to mine with a clink. “To us.”

After sharing a look we each take a sip and turn to the meal I’d prepared. I actually have to hold back a laugh as Heather, looking so damn fine with the high class manners to match her attire, suddenly shifts gears. Lifting one of her tacos she gives it a good sniff…then crunches on in there like we were standing on the sidewalk beside a Mexican food truck. The contrast between her look and her actions somehow only made her sexier. This was a woman who would not look out of place at the silver set tables of royalty yet could chow down on common fare with the peasant folk just as easy. I liked that.

“What?” She pauses mid chew to look at me, a fleck of shell dropping from her perfectly painted lips as she does.

“Nothing.” I chuckle. “You’re just so beautiful.”

“Little charmer.”

Before I’d even taken my first bite I felt that unique simultaneously soothing and heightening effect of the honey settle into me. The aches of my day at work ease, the extraneous thoughts bouncing around my skull fall to a hush, and as I crunch into my taco the flavors of this dish I’d had easily a hundred times and more explode across my palate like never before. The notes were deeper and broader as entirely new facets of the spices bloom across my tongue. The only way I could describe it was to say that it was like a man trapped his whole life in a black and white room suddenly stepping outside to see the full spectrum of a rainbow. Heather was correct in saying the effect was less intense diluted in the wine but it was no less mind blowing.

After chewing longer than normal to savor every second of these tastes I finally swallow, only to have the wonderful aftertaste to keep on lingering. Staring down at the taco I whisper. “Wow.”

“There he is.” Across from me Heather is staring hard at me, feeding off of my honey high through that mysterious connection that she could sense. “There’s my honey boy.”

Meeting her gaze I hold it for a few seconds to let her share my high while also basking in her beautiful brown eyes.

“Oh! I forgot to put on music.”

“It’s okay, baby.” She says. “We’re doing fine.”

We gaze, we smile, and we return our meal. Conversation is kept to a minimum as we dine. There would be time to talk later. Though silent it is a comfortable silence, intimate even, with just the crunch of shells and clink of glass to accompany it. For me I focused on savoring each succulent bite, refreshing my buzz now and then with a sip of the vino that now tasted better anything in any cellar out there. As I focused on the food and drink Heather feasted on me. With each little ‘mmm’ and ‘ohhh’ she would take in a sharp breath and slowly let it out again as her face twitched with pleasure. I didn’t understand how she could feed off of my joy but I knew it to be real. To have such a beautiful woman look at me like she was humbled and lifted at the same time.

When the food was done Heather offers me her hand and I take it right away as I was **** for her touch. My mouth had been lavished with pleasure but the rest of my tingling, sensitive flesh yearned for stimulation.

“Elliot. That meal was wonderful.” She says while oh so lightly rubbing my hand. “Thank you.”

With a smile and a blush I nod.

She laughs. “You’re feeling soft, aren’t you?”

I nod again.

“A little submissive maybe?”

I nod.

“It’s normal. You’re adapting.” Her hand glides up my forearm, the soft skin of her palm sending sparkles of delight through my flesh. “Let it happen.”

“I like it.”

“It feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Her warm yet sexy smile grows. “Yeah.” Pulling her hand away she finishes her glass of wine and sets it down again. “You mentioned something about a dance?”

“Yes!” I say. “Would you dance with me, Heather?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

The next couple of minutes are a comedy of false starts. My plan to use my phone and a paired speaker would have been perfect…if not for the little detail that Heather didn’t have internet. Gah! How did she not have internet!? Trying to make the best of it we try the radio but try as we might we can’t find a station that wasn’t either playing ads or music that just didn’t fit the vibe. At last we are saved. As I clear the table Heather goes and brings up an old CD player that she kept in her craft room in the basement along with a binder-like case of disks.

I don’t say anything but the big Daft Punk sticker plastered over the top of the player gives me flashbacks of a certain bully I used to know that would sometimes wear a t shirt with that exact design on the front. It was so easy to forget that this was Liam’s mother and so surreal whenever I was reminded. In my mind the Mrs. Hutton of those days was an entirely different person to my Heather today. One way or another I was going to have to come to grips with this.

Flipping through binder she stops. “Selection is a tad dated I’m afraid. Sinatra okay?”

“Uh, sure?” Sinatra? As in Frank Sinatra? A TAD dated!? Whatever. We just needed a beat.

A moment later the swinging sound of a jazzy brass section fills the room followed by the old crooner’s smooth voice. Heather turns to me and strides forward. Taking my glass from the table she offers it to me. I take it down the last swallow of wine. She smiles and takes it from me again to return it to the table then holds out her arms. With my best dashing grin I step forward.

“I hope that all didn’t spoil the mood.”

“Not mine.” She says softly as she pulls me close. She smelt good. She looked so fucking good. And with my buzz returning…oh my God did she feel good!

“Oh.” I am pressed into her bosom which, given her heels, was now nearly at neck height. I look forward into her chin, then up into her rich chocolate gaze. “Um…”

A gentle smile on her face and without a word she takes my right hand pulls it around so that it touched the base of her back. With her hip there to rest my forearm on it was as if her body was made to be held this way. She then places her right in my left and rests her other on my shoulder.

“Okay.” I say, my body stiffening so that I was taut and poised to move as needed.

Gazing into my eyes she whispers. “Relax. Listen. Feel the music.”

She takes a short backward step. Awkwardly I shuffle forward. “Erm…”

“Relax, handsome” She says. “One step at a time.” She steps back again, this time I step with her. “Good boy.” With her directing we sway to one side then back to middle in one easy motion. “Very good.” I read her subtle push and step back to where I started and she glides with me, after which we sway to the other side and back to the center. “As easy as that.” Once, twice, three more times she guides me through the motions, each time a bit more in sync with the easy rhythm, and the next the I knew…I was leading!

“Heh!” I let out a laugh as I realize that we were actually dancing. It wasn’t fancy by any stretch but she was in my arms and we were moving as one. After a few more times through the pattern I throw in a twist by turning her slightly through one of the steps.

“He learns.” She says, her eyes twinkling.

As we sway and glide around the kitchen and living room my confidence grows. Slow and graceful we dance right into the second song, which had a similar beat to the first. Maybe Sinatra wasn’t such a bad choice after all. I am positively floating. Not just because of the wonderful sensations provided by the honey but more so because of this gorgeous goddess in my arms.

“You are a lovely dancer, Elliot.”

“You too.”

“Mmm.” She hums. The hand on my shoulder slides across to the back of my head and very gently pushes. Not resisting her lead I allow my head to bow forward…until my cheek was pressing against her pillowy bosom.

Closing my eyes I let my head rest and dance upon the clouds.