teachers think otherwise.”
“I will have to respectfully disagree with them. Who are they? I will tell them to their face.” I look around the room searching for people who aren’t there.
“Ha! Unless you enjoy traveling through small Texas towns with maybe five stoplights, then I’m afraid you will not really have a chance. But that’s okay. I like your opinion better, so we’ll just stick with that one.” Marta takes another swallow of her drink and begins stirring it with her straw again.
Her use of we causes my heart to stir a little. I also want to hear her say other things highlighting stuff we could do. I wish I could learn everything there is to know about her right now.
In my search for my clues about Marta, I ask, “Texas, huh? What brings you to Hawaii?”
She opens her mouth to answer, but before she does, she claps her hands in excitement. “Is this Kajagoogoo? Holy moly cow, I LOVE this song! It is one of my most favorite 80’s songs in the history of 80’s songs!”
I bask in her energy and excitement. I know she has to be a good ten years younger than me, so I don’t really know why or how she has such an appreciation for 80’s music.
“ ’Too Shy,’” I say, as if giving her the answer to a trivia question.
Looking confused, she asks, “What?”
“’Too Shy’ is the name of the song…by Kajagoogoo.”
I’m a little embarrassed that I know this song, but she seems to appreciate my guilty ple asure that is 80’s music.
Her mouth opens wide , and she breathes in an excited breath. “You know it? I KNEW I liked you!” Marta pops up out of her chair in the blink of an eye. “Let’s go dance!”
She grabs my hand and leads me to the dance floor before I can protest. Although, I know I wouldn’t have put up much of a fight- if I put one up at all. Despite my fears of looking awkward and my inability to keep up with her, the feelings of dancing with and being near her are amazing. This is unlike any euphoria I could have imagined, and definitely unlike any feeling I’ve ever felt dancing with another woman.
Marta continues to dance with our group, including her friend Macy, but always seems to return to me, which of course I don’t mind. Each time she steps away from me, my body aches until she returns. When she returns, it’s as though my world has been recalibrated and realigned.
While she dances with her back against my chest, I can’t resist the urge to wrap my hands around her waist. When I put my arms around her slim waist, she doesn’t seem to mind. She brings her body in closer, allowing me to enjoy the contours of her back and ass. I can feel my pants beginning to bulge, so I attempt to stifle it, hoping she doesn’t notice. She rolls her hips in ways even a contortionist couldn’t, and it has to be the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
With her back against me, I can see the tattoo underneath her hair that I spotted when she was on stage. I take my index finger and trace down the tattoo. She must notice that I do because she turns her head to look back at me with desire in her eyes, which doesn’t help what’s going on in my pants.
“What’s that a tattoo of?” I ask, trying to speak over the booming music.
“Daisies,” she says close to my ear.
That must be her favorite flower or something.
“Do they have any special meaning?”
“Nope. I just like daisies. That’s my favorite flower, and I love bright colors, so they seemed to go well together.” She continues to move her body and sway her hips as she talks.
I don’t have any tattoos myself, but I think they look perfect on her. For the second time, I imagine kissing all the way down from that trail of daisies to the small of her back. Her revelation also makes me wonder if she has any other tattoos or secrets she’s hiding in places I can’t see.
“That’s cool,” is all I manage to
“I will have to respectfully disagree with them. Who are they? I will tell them to their face.” I look around the room searching for people who aren’t there.
“Ha! Unless you enjoy traveling through small Texas towns with maybe five stoplights, then I’m afraid you will not really have a chance. But that’s okay. I like your opinion better, so we’ll just stick with that one.” Marta takes another swallow of her drink and begins stirring it with her straw again.
Her use of we causes my heart to stir a little. I also want to hear her say other things highlighting stuff we could do. I wish I could learn everything there is to know about her right now.
In my search for my clues about Marta, I ask, “Texas, huh? What brings you to Hawaii?”
She opens her mouth to answer, but before she does, she claps her hands in excitement. “Is this Kajagoogoo? Holy moly cow, I LOVE this song! It is one of my most favorite 80’s songs in the history of 80’s songs!”
I bask in her energy and excitement. I know she has to be a good ten years younger than me, so I don’t really know why or how she has such an appreciation for 80’s music.
“ ’Too Shy,’” I say, as if giving her the answer to a trivia question.
Looking confused, she asks, “What?”
“’Too Shy’ is the name of the song…by Kajagoogoo.”
I’m a little embarrassed that I know this song, but she seems to appreciate my guilty ple asure that is 80’s music.
Her mouth opens wide , and she breathes in an excited breath. “You know it? I KNEW I liked you!” Marta pops up out of her chair in the blink of an eye. “Let’s go dance!”
She grabs my hand and leads me to the dance floor before I can protest. Although, I know I wouldn’t have put up much of a fight- if I put one up at all. Despite my fears of looking awkward and my inability to keep up with her, the feelings of dancing with and being near her are amazing. This is unlike any euphoria I could have imagined, and definitely unlike any feeling I’ve ever felt dancing with another woman.
Marta continues to dance with our group, including her friend Macy, but always seems to return to me, which of course I don’t mind. Each time she steps away from me, my body aches until she returns. When she returns, it’s as though my world has been recalibrated and realigned.
While she dances with her back against my chest, I can’t resist the urge to wrap my hands around her waist. When I put my arms around her slim waist, she doesn’t seem to mind. She brings her body in closer, allowing me to enjoy the contours of her back and ass. I can feel my pants beginning to bulge, so I attempt to stifle it, hoping she doesn’t notice. She rolls her hips in ways even a contortionist couldn’t, and it has to be the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
With her back against me, I can see the tattoo underneath her hair that I spotted when she was on stage. I take my index finger and trace down the tattoo. She must notice that I do because she turns her head to look back at me with desire in her eyes, which doesn’t help what’s going on in my pants.
“What’s that a tattoo of?” I ask, trying to speak over the booming music.
“Daisies,” she says close to my ear.
That must be her favorite flower or something.
“Do they have any special meaning?”
“Nope. I just like daisies. That’s my favorite flower, and I love bright colors, so they seemed to go well together.” She continues to move her body and sway her hips as she talks.
I don’t have any tattoos myself, but I think they look perfect on her. For the second time, I imagine kissing all the way down from that trail of daisies to the small of her back. Her revelation also makes me wonder if she has any other tattoos or secrets she’s hiding in places I can’t see.
“That’s cool,” is all I manage to
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