The article is about the "Danza" phenomenon.
I strolled into the upscale bar, located within a luxurious hotel and restaurant, in search of a high-end "happy ending" to thwart my prolonged drought of feminine interactions. Although I knew many of the women in this crowd were out of my league, I still held faith that I might get lucky just by being present.
I'm no hideous creature, but certainly not a heartthrob either. With my long black ponytail draping behind me, I appeared exotic enough to pique curiosity. The venue played up this artistic persona to its full potential.
Associated with a reputable art gallery in town, I staged exhibitions approximately every couple of years, displaying my sprawling landscape paintings. Reportedly, I was primarily seen as a token artist; the novelty of "The Starving (yet Eccentric) Artist" trumped the significance of my work. My ambition was to socialize during these openings and financially sustain my existence, the leases on my loft studio cum dwelling, and my escapades for creative inspiration to various European destinations.
Regrettably, I inhabited the role of a nouveau riche artist, reliant on self-promotion within these extravagant circles. I abandoned my birth name, Robert Collins, for a more ethnically appealing identity, Roberto Callas, exploiting the slight Hispanic ancestry passed on by my mother. But I was mostly English-speaking, born and raised in the United States.
Alas, amidst this crowd, I pondered if I could survive this night without sinking into a sea of alcohol and anxiety, when I came face-to-face with her: Rosa Ibanez, someone I had once known through church.
Though I found her appealing, she did not align with my preferred body type of trim and less voluptuous bodied women. Rosa, however, boasted an ample figure with generous breasts, hips, and a truly striking face - her dark, wavy hair framing a beautiful visage.
I'd perceived her as the mysterious yet tantalizing professional: Dr. Rosa Ibanez. A psychologist and affluent businesswoman, she exuded an aura I deemed captivating, yet seemingly untouchable. However, she had not always been so lucky - she had escaped her past as a penniless child in Santo Domingo and through determination and self-determination, elevated her status beyond her humble origins.
In my well-to-do youth, I knew little of hardship. My father's wealth, though vast and unyielding, was emotionally distant. He expected me to become a lawyer like him, but I flouted that idea by eschewing academic work and adopting the creative path of an artist instead. This pained him no end. My mother shielded me from her husband's disappointments, instilling an unwavering support for my artistic ambitions, despite their potentially detrimental implications.
I learned about Rosa's ex-boyfriend from some failed relationship. He'd seemingly caught cheating, thus ending their paradisiacal union - trips aboard his yacht, a globetrotting lifestyle with no expenses spared. This world seemed vastly out of reach.
For several years, Rosa had been with her supposed blue-eyed prince charming. His pictures emblazoned her Christmas cards, her social media accounts, and even decorating her office. This affluent, carefree life was too seductive for her former lover to forgo.
Promiscuity typifies those in ideal relationships. Rosa had taken this lesson hard; enduring rejection and betrayal, though she should've known better.
In this moment, Rosa stood before me, poised yet fragile. Her beauty breathtaking, her desperation palpable.
So here she stood, facing me, undoubtedly longing for release and healing. After all, she sensed my loneliness; she felt her wounds raw and sore. Until someone stepped in and filled the void plaguing both of our lives, all we could do was smile fleetingly, connect meaningfully at a distance, and hope - just hope - that life would eventually deliver the closure we yearned for.
"Hey, Roberto," she approached me with a bashful grin, indicating she was uneasy with her approach. Despite occasionally chatting at church, we didn't know much about each other. She mainly knew that I'm an artist.
"Hi, Rosa," was my response. I wanted to bluntly say, "You're incredibly mouth-watering. I could feast on you here and now," but that would've been inappropriate. Instead, I asked, "How're you feeling?"
She had recovered beautifully from a past calamity, yet in front of me, her expression radiated sorrow as she searched for the right words. "I apologize for not attending your latest exhibition," she said, her pain showing through the sad smile.
It didn't even cross my mind that she was keeping up with my artistic endeavors. "No worries. You are occupied, and we're not exactly close."
She brightened up and inquired, "What brings you here? Meeting someone?"
If only, I almost admitted. "No, just stopping by for a drink. That's all." Her demeanor improved, and she effortlessly entwined her arm through mine, casually draped in my pocket.
"Well, maybe we can catch up now that you're here," she suggested, then added abruptly, "If you're interested, of course."
I contemplated, "Sure. What are you having?"
She gazed up at me (a few inches shorter than me), "A margarita would be wonderful! We can then sit on the patio and watch the moonrise."
The idea of witnessing romantic romantic moonrise with an almost acquainted woman felt peculiar. "That sounds nice," I affirmed.
Her attire was a colorful, revealing Mexican caftan, exquisitely revealing the curves of her chest. I caught myself staring fixedly, and when I looked back at her face, she playfully shot me a short 'naughty glare'. "Appreciate the view?" she inquired.
Intrigued, I apologized, "Umm... yes. It's captivating."
Comforting her, she teased, "You haven't been with a woman for a while, have you?"
My hands twitched from my pockets, inching towards her large breasts, yet I fought the urge. "Not since one like you," I managed. My thoughts turned dark, but I hoped to make her smile, gently stroking her cheek, whispering, "Leading to... Those."
Her eyes opened wider, and she suggested, "Let's grab our drinks and head outside."
Moments later, we stepped out to the sunset-illuminated marina, me standing next to a temptress, feeling awkward and rooted in place.
She took leisurely sips from her drink while gazing skyward at the almost full moon. "I'm sorry about your..." I hesitated, not knowing how to describe my past situation. "Nasty breakup?"
"I've moved on," she whispered softly, her accent seducing me. "There are other men in the world, right?"
She flashed a face bathed in moonlight, her eyes softening, the drops of her eyelids lowering for a seductive gaze at me, her luscious lips parted. My right arm wrapped around her shoulder, inching towards her chest but straining to rule out such inclinations.
Rosa teased, challenging me to kiss her, and my anxiety rendered me unable to respond. Fortunately, a hidden instinct prevented me from doing anything more and I leaned in to kiss her.
As we connected lips, I was overwhelmed by the beautiful taste of her, eager to embrace her intimately, captivated by her scent and her intoxicating aura. A moment passed before we separated, gasping. "Oh, Rosa..." I sighed. "I..."
Did you drive here? she asked me softly, still looking up into shy eyes.
No, I replied, I took a rideshare.
Good, she said. I only live about ten minutes from here.
That was it. I was going home with this beautiful, voluptuous woman, to explore her tempting body like crazy. I could already feel her hand had wandered to the bulge in my pants. I wanted to turn to her now, and lift up her dress, and fuck her right there.
Reaching into my left pocket, I grabbed my phone with one hand and searched the app to call for our ride. Once done, I put it away, and reached around her back to grab her equally plump ass. I didn't care who saw us. We were far enough away from the lit areas that it could go unnoticed.
"Maybe we should go to the front to wait," she suggested softly, laughing and smiling at me.
A very long fifteen minutes later, we were standing in front of her rather large house. No, let me rephrase that. For all my experience living in a large mansion, we were standing in front of a luxurious estate. And I was used to estates.
I didn't make the mistake of trying to pick her up. She was still a rather substantial, yet alluring woman.
But once inside her grand entrance hall, the caftan was off. I reveled in the sight of her two luscious, lush breasts, with their beautiful, large areola and jumbo, mouth-watering, chocolate brown nipples on full display. I couldn't help myself.
"Mmmmh, yes," she moaned, as I wrapped my mouth around one nipple and grabbed for the other.
After another ten minutes of exploring her sweet flesh, with her double mountainous peaks glowing from another color, I gently drifted down her front, licking my way to South America, taking her satin-soft, cream-colored, and lacy panties with me as I did.
I could smell her deep musky fragrance and feel the heat even with my nose and mouth inches away from my goal. I reached my tongue out and began my descent down and over her shaved mons (which I hadn't expected). Thank God I was blessed with a rather long tongue, and I made full use of it, inserting it into that wet, gushing fountain that was already flowing there.
"Oh, GOD. MmmmmmSSS!" she now screamed, as my tongue found her already open, engorged, and erect clit. Her clit was like the mountains of her nipples, and I relished in running my tongue over it and into the gushing fountain of her volcano just beyond.
I used my hands, running lightly up her shapely legs, to get her to spread her legs wider. I was going to have her climaxing so soon, I wanted my tongue there to catch the stream as it flowed.
Her breathing was now labored, panting, and she would have the sudden spasm that told me that she was almost ready.
I wasn't necessarily a strong man, but I put first her left leg and then her right leg over my shoulders. I wanted for her to be over my mouth when her juices began erupting like I knew they would.
Her body was having a seven-point earthquake while I fought to keep her on my shoulders and over my mouth. It was a good thing that she had such easily graspable hips I had wrapped around, so I could keep her on my face.
Coming down from her orgasmic aftershocks, she grabbed me by the face and began staring hungrily into my eyes. "Ay Dios Mio!" she sighed, in between her still ragged breaths. "Can we continue this upstairs? The night is still young."
I lowered her and then wrapped her legs around my hips. I was unsure whether I wanted to just slam myself into her right then and there, or follow through on our upstairs journey.
Her bedroom was like a small house, in and of itself. Like some fairy tale princess chamber, she had an enormous four poster bed, complete with sheer white 'curtains' cascading everywhere from it top. The enormous, floor-to-ceiling picture window with voluminous drapery hanging everywhere filled out the enormous space.
And then she dragged me speechless into the room. Turning me to the right behind the door... Was that one of my paintings? Oh, my God. "You have..."
"Yes. From your show in 2010. It takes me places, every time I look into it."
This not only took my breath away, but had me on the verge of tears. "You've been following me?! Why haven't I ever seen you at one of my openings?"
"I don't know. I've been there. But you were always so busy."
I turned to her and hugged her tightly to me. Perhaps a little too tightly. Had I been crazy not to have seen her? Was I that distracted?
I placed her on the floor, gently held her royal hand, and guided her towards her royal bed. I hastily removed the covers, and softly laid her down as tenderly as possible on her bed. "Now, I'm going to thoroughly ravish you," I said, feeling even more desperate than before. "It's time for me to take you to heaven."
"I'm ready..." she responded, spread-eagled before me, granting me access to her kingdom. My clothing was removed as quickly as I could rip them off, and I stood at the foot of her bed, gazing down at the freshly captured queen.
"Take me!" she called out with her arms raised high, her eyes and hair enticing me. "Take me! I'm all yours!"
I eagerly rushed towards her and showered kisses all over her irresistible and luscious body. Those round, ripe buttocks! The inviting, spacious valley of love. The shining disco ball of a mons. Those plump, silky thighs and hips. I was at a loss at where to start.
I dove into every inch of her. This was territory I desired to claim and flavour I relished, to savor for a lifetime. I wouldn't allow my mind to ever lose sight of this captivating and delectable woman.
I engulfed her completely, sinking in deep, pulling out slowly, and then ravishing her deeply once more. I was immersing myself in her ocean and drawing back her waves of pleasure and convulsive spasms of bliss.
We moved as forcefully as thunder and crashed as mightily as colossal, storm-driven rollers of marvel. Then, when we had sent our own earthquakes into the earth, we collapsed, breathless and panting, into our dreams.
We awoke not sensing any gap between our two bodies. I caressed and caressed her divine form, and inserted my completely solid and pulsating member back into her canyon and into the core of her essence once more.
I rejoiced in how her entire seductive body - hips, voluptuous globes, and blossoming garden - took each of my thrusts and enhanced them. We were ascending towards another enormous, potentially even eighth-point-scale quake that would leave our minds quaking for days with aftershocks.
Afterward, as we were sighing back down from the pinnacles, she murmured, "This is now your home, my brother!" And I cried out in sheer joy for the first time in my life.
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- Yes, Darling
- Meeting Amily Scheduled
- Cherries with Magical Powers: Part 3
- The Rugby Team's Origin Story
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