Dance of the Gypsy

They dined alone in the smaller dining room overlooking the fountained terrace. Her father, evidently, had taken ill; Felicity did not tell him she had specifically told her father not to join them for dinner. The old gentleman, however foolish he could be, had realized his daughter was finally coming to her senses.

Her entire manner was one of a woman who wished for the meal to be dispensed with quickly so as to move on to other things. However much Felipe was enjoying this change in her, he wanted to accommodate her in any way he could. He gladly passed up dessert in favor of finding out what was to happen next.

She took him into the drawing room and closed the doors and asked him to sit on the settee while she played the piano. He listened as she played a piece that began softly and sweetly, but quickly turned dark and passionate. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she poured herself into the melody. Could he feel it? Could he feel the desire dripping from her fingertips as she pounded the keys, longing for them to be him?

She finished the piece and looked at him, her eyes revealing everything in her heart. He rose from the settee and caught her in his arms and kissed her. She swooned against him as his tongue thrust past her innocent lips and plundered her virgin mouth. She melted in his arms. He carried her body from the room, up the stairs, to his bed, kicking the door closed with a loud bang.

Felicity lay panting on the silk bedspread as he ripped off his clothes. His body was hard and taut from a lifetime of riding and working. His skin was soft and pale under his clothes. As he pulled off his trousers, her hand involuntarily reached for him.

Naked in the glowing light of a single candle, he moved to the bed, his eyes locked with her. His ardor was evident in his hard shaft; he wanted her. He went about undressing her with impatience; why did she have to wear so many layers? He thought to himself that from now on, he would just keep her naked.

She was helpless on his bed, made immobile by the desire she could not control and did not understand. He looked down at her, knowing she had never been with a man. His hand reached up between her legs. She did not try to stop him. His fingers encountered something warm and wet and he glanced down. The juice from within her was flowing freely. Nothing could have shocked him more. He raised his hand to his mouth and tasted of her. She groaned deeply, even frantically, and rose up from the bed and kissed him with a passion that drove him over the top. He pressed her down into the bedspread, not caring that it was priceless. He wanted it ruined by her virgin blood. He wanted to see that crimson stain on the Chinese silk so that this night would always be remembered.

“It will hurt,” he said to her, speaking in her own language. “I don’t mean it to hurt. There is just no other way.”

“I know,” Felicity returned. She pressed her groin into his, wanting him to take her.

He hesitated. He wanted to pleasure her, to hear her cries of ecstasy before this first time, so she would know it was about more than pain and sacrifice. But he couldn’t hold back even a moment longer.

Longing to be tender, Felipe placed his cock at the opening of her vagina and pressed in slowly. The tightness of her overwhelmed him. He had never been with a virgin. He pressed again, hating the look of pain in her eyes. How he wished it could be different. He pressed again, and felt the barrier of her hymen, and secretly asked in prayer that it go swiftly. Then he thrust forward with everything he had and held her as she cried out.

“It’s over,” he breathed raggedly into her hair.

And then he rode her, closing his eyes as he gave into the most intoxicating feeling he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t believe how she felt. An emotion rose up in his chest and he looked down at her face, now so calm and relaxed. He loved her. He watched her face, watched as her brows made a crease just above her nose. Was she enjoying this? Everything in him wanted her to. He wanted her to feel what he felt, know the ecstasy that coupling brought.

“Put your finger between your legs,” he said in a hurried tone. “There, just below where your flesh parts. Do you feel it?”

Felicity rubbed the small hard place that had brought her so much distress in the past. “Yes.”

“Keep touching it. Don’t stop. Give in to whatever pleasure it brings you. God gave that to you to make you want this with me. Do you want it?”

“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, I want it, Felipe. It’s wonderful.”

“Yes. Yes, it is wonderful,” he agreed huskily. “And we will do it as often as you wish. And other things. Other wonderful things that only lovers know of.”

She wanted to answer him but she couldn’t. Her body was engulfed in raging passion. She drove her hips upwards over and over again, taking in the fullness of him, while her finger frantically stroked the hard pearl between her legs. Somewhere in her fevered brain she heard the strains of the gypsy music. She was that dancer now, swirling around him, gyrating her hips against his, all of her sex culminating in one moment in time when she exploded around him, his name screaming from her lips.

“Felipe! Felipe! Oh God!”

He felt the spasms of her orgasm and let go the flood of semen that had tortured him for what seemed an eternity. His seed spilled into her, mixing with the torrent of fluid already in her vagina. He shuddered against her and collapsed on her breasts. She continued moving under him, milking the last of his seed from his sated shaft. Then he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. God, he was tired.

He felt her finger touching the errant curl that was always falling onto his forehead and bothering him. He opened his eyes and looked at her. How young she looked. He could hardly believe she was twenty-two. Perhaps her father had lied.

He wanted to know what had brought this change in her but he was afraid to ask. Perhaps if he inquired too deeply, the magic would be broken and she would go back to being the way she had been before. No, he would let her keep her secret.

The room had grown stiflingly warm and Felipe moved to open the window. The full moon was just appearing, a yellow circle on the horizon. He glanced down to see a light burning at the edge of the forest where it met the river. Then he turned away from the window to join the young English rose who was modestly wiggling her way under the covers.

He blew out the candle and crawled in next to her. A soft breeze stirred the still air, bringing with it the faintest hint of a melody.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, listening.

“What?”

“The music.”

“You can hear that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yes.”

He looked at her doubtingly. “What is it?”

“It’s the dance of the gypsy,” she said simply.

Felipe stared at her. No, he thought to himself. It couldn’t be. Surely she hadn’t followed him into the dark last night, watched as he’d….

Her hip gyrated against his thigh in keeping with the beat. She smiled up at him, her green eyes containing some witchery he didn’t understand. She sat up, letting the blanket fall from her body. Her arms lifted into the air and she swayed them back and forth.

He watched, mesmerized, as she stood up and began to dance. She moved towards the window, her body silhouetted against the light of the full moon. The strains of the fiddle carried her limbs and the strokes of the guitar moved her hips. She swirled around and around, her long light brown hair flying out from her slender body. Felipe stared at her. She was magnificent.

She fell to the floor, panting. Then she rose up on all fours and crawled towards him like a cat. When she reached the bed, she sat back, waiting for him. The events of the night before came back to him like a sketchy memory and he swung his legs over the side of the bed and set his feet on the floor. She crawled forward, meowing, and swept her hands up his thighs. Then she bent her down over his flaccid penis and began to suck and lick him.

Felipe held her head, not believing this was happening. He loved that it was happening, he just couldn’t believe it. She worked his shaft until it was hard again, standing erect and ready between her lips. Then she stood back and looked at him. He knew what she wanted. He fell on his knees in front of her and pressed back the flesh between her legs. Her young, pink pussy lips opened to reveal the flower of her sex. He leaned in and licked the sweet nectar that was pouring out of her. Mixed with his own fluid, it was unlike anything he’d ever tasted. He wanted more. He pressed his lips against her flesh and sucked hungrily at the small hard pearl. His hands held her buttocks, squeezing the soft white flesh greedily. He wanted her again. He wanted her now. But this time, he held himself back.

She began moving against him, cooing softly. Her fingers spread over his head, burying down into his long hair. He listened to her breathing, and knew she was close. He loved doing this to her. Everything about her was warm and fresh and smelled like some kind of exotic fruit. Her legs spread a little, giving him access to the core of her desire. He lapped deeply at the entrance, groaning at the profusion of nectar that flowed from her. He hoped she would come soon. His own cock was throbbing between his legs, longing to be touched. Despite his resolve, he lowered a hand to his shaft and began to stroke it, and worked his tongue deeper into her vagina. The undulations of her hips were becoming faster, wilder, and she was whispering his name over and over again. He held onto her with the other hand, burying his mouth into her yielding flesh.

She yelled with a ferocity that surprised even him. The whole house had to be awake now. She cried like a woman in pain, high pitched, frantic, even fearful that somehow it would devour her. Her body shook and jerked against him. And then her cries softened into gentle, long moans of satisfaction and delight. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. He stood up, the lower half of his face glistening with her juice.