Dance Of Desire (3 page)

Then, she… she couldn’t recall…!

She felt fear growing inside her and she wanted to panic. Cassie tugged down her skirt and rearranged her breasts in order to cover herself even though she was completely alone. The bra was so messed up that she threw on a sweatshirt. Halfway clothed again, she still wanted to panic. But she took deep, slow breaths and tried to be logical.

She tried to figure out how she’d gotten from way across town all the way back to her apartment without remembering it. She tried hard, but only remembered sitting back down at the table with her drunken, happy girlfriends after dancing with that gorgeous, hot guy she’d been flirting with.

He’d come back for her and she’d stood, his strong arm looping around her, his touch sending electrical shocks of joy, lust and amazement.

And then… and then… Cassie didn’t remember past that moment! A silent, primal shudder coursed through her spine like cold fingers tipped with long, pointed nails.

She realized she really had to piss so she finally made her way into the bathroom to sit down, slowly, and pee. Slowly. Because it hurt like hell.

Her breasts hurt, too. The nipples were painfully sensitive and felt abused.

She gingerly tugged the sweatshirt up and off, then gazed at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Her breasts looked tortured, reddened and bruised in the bright bathroom light. She gazed downward at her crotch. Her thighs looked red on some spots, too. She was tender all over.

She began trembling. Cassie tried not to sob but she sniffled anyway and wracked her brain to remember.

What could have happened last night to leave her in this wretched condition? But she had no more good fortune with her memory than before.

She did remember the man, her man, nameless, exotic, and dangerous but not a rapist. Not a maniac.

But how could she be sure? Would she know what a rapist looked like in real life? Looking in the mirror at her appearance again, she looked like a doll three hysterical toddlers had fought over.

She washed her face and fought for calmness.

Who to call? Who… Lauren! She rushed outside and grabbed the phone. She called Lauren.

“Wh-What? Wh-Who’s this? Oh, Cassie.” Lauren half-muted the phone to talk with her roommate. “No, Anne. It’s Cassie. Don’t talk so damn loud, woman. You’re up already, C? It’s only noon-ish. Ah, not even.”

Since Lauren was still in bed, Cassie kept her questions straightforward.

Laurie’s answers were fairly clear in return. “No, C, you didn’t leave with him. That gorgeous creature did catch you when you passed out, though. He carried you out for us, and held you until we got a cab. Hey, Anne, wasn’t that cabby the most asexual person you’ve ever seen? He’s male but he’s just so gorgeous and lovely. Oh, don’t tell me to shut—Ow! My head—up.”

She listened for a while until Lauren could talk clearly again.

“All us girls brought you home, C. Just us. Not him. Left him standing all sad-eyed and gorgeous on the curb. We drove off and he disappeared back into the club, I guess. You, well, we, well, you was, um, were too drunk to go with him and you were awake. Kinda. But kept mumbling gibberish.”

“Like what? What was I saying?” she asked.

“Something about, maybe, ‘Come with ushshsh.’? Or that’s the way you said it. So whatever you were thinking ’bout or dreaming, your secret’s safe. He didn’t come with us. Ah, just thinking about that hottie… all pure man, that one, and the possibilities of his cock makes me wet.”

“And me?”

“Least you were kind of walking, stumbling when we got back. You’re heavier than you look, d’you know that? We just dropped you on your bed and locked the door on our way out. Then we went home ourselves.”

“Why’d you trash my clothes? And where was my underwear! And why am I sore all over?”

These questions were followed by a long pause on the other end of the line. A snort came through, as if Lauren had dozed off in mid-consideration.

“Go back to bed, Cassie. You’re still talking gibberish and my damn head hurts. My brain hurts. I have no idea where
my
panties are, honestly, let alone yours. See you in class tomorrow. Bye.”

The line went dead before she could say anything in return.

Terribly confused and scared, Cassie checked the door and found it still locked like Lauren said. Her keys were inside with her. She calmed down a bit.

Okay, that was logical and matched what Lauren had said.

She must’ve missed something, some small clue. So she examined her clothes and her body in the mirror again, and stretched her body to find all marks that she could. There were bruises. If she hadn’t been… she couldn’t even say it. What really happened to her? Why was she bruised all over? Were they all so drunk that they might have dragged her from the cab towards the elevator and possibly banged her up like these? Or maybe the elevator wasn’t working and they dragged her up the stairs?

It did not explain her womanhood hurting.

She took a deep breath. “Ahhh! Cassie Shea Watsen, you cannot hold your liquor.” She pointed to herself in the mirror. “I do not know you, girl.”

She blinked sleepily. Maybe she was mistaken? Maybe something could explain this, but she just couldn’t get it right now. No, she wasn’t… no of course not. She blinked again, and looked back at the mirror.

“Ahhhhh!” she screamed.

Her mirror was gone. Her reflection was gone.

Instead, the mirror frame gaped like a doorway into a dark, putrid smelling cave. The doorway’s framing breathed as if about to bow out and explode open.

Then her glimpse into Hell was gone.

The mirror was back with her own frightened, wide-eyed image. But her heart raced like hell.

SHE FROZE like an animal too frightened to run but panting like she had been running for a long time. Finally, she shook her head and decided she was still feeling the after-effects of her drunken stupor.

What could’ve been in that ‘Cleveland’ drink?
she thought a bit.
You did mix drinks, Stupid Girl. What you were drinking, tasting everyone else’s drinks, and whatever his ‘magic’ drink was.

What if she had caused her bewildering state of undress? What if she had been so drunk and so horny that she ripped her clothes up and did everything else? She had never… but what other explanation could there be? She certainly remembered how she pined for her dace partner. She certainly remembered feeling lust so strong she would have let him fuck her if there had been a chance for them to find a place somewhere where they could be alone.

Later, she washed down a few analgesic pills with a lot of water. She was really thirsty. Then she peeled off what was left of her clothes, dumped them into the dirty laundry, and took a long, hot shower to get cleaned. She followed it up by a long hot soak in the tub to reach those parts of her too sore and unreachable by the shower.

The comforting heat of the water washed away her fears. Dry, relaxed and bundled in her thick, fluffy robe, she prepared a light meal and watched TV with the sound down low as she ate. It was something to take her mind off the throbbing headache brought about by her hangover. The pain pills, water and food weren’t helping dim the rhythmic pain as much as they advertised.

Without noticing though, she got back to being impatient and dissatisfied, half forgetting her meal as she flicked through channels, never staying on one for more than a couple of minutes.

She finally finished her meal without tasting it because her mind kept wandering to her friends, to the club last night, and to the gorgeous man rubbing his hard, hot body against hers.

Cassie pressed her knees together as her uncontained thoughts of him started to make her cunt wet and throb that it ached. She remembered grinding her ass and crotch against his hardened manhood through his jeans. It was maddening, how wild and wanton she had been with him last night.

She sighed.
You cannot hold your liquor, OR your hangover, sister.

Later again, she grabbed a thick and heavy class book to study and get her mind distracted. She took care and had a reasonable pride in her ability to stay focused and précised whenever she was studying. And anyway, she really wasn’t the kind of girl who fantasized too much. She suffered only the occasional day dreams and her feet always reached back for solid earth. It resulted into high grades and honors when she graduated.

That’s why her parents hadn’t minded footing the bill for her to come here and study in a better, more expensive school. They had been glad when a great apartment had come available. She wouldn’t be in a dorm with all those
“possible negative influences.”

But she soon realized that even studying wasn’t working. Her focus kept unraveling and slipping into all the wrong places. She was thinking of the hunk again when she caught herself staring at the book and not reading.

“He was hot… but not that hot. Was he?” she asked the room.

No one answered, of course, but her body reacted and started to throb and ache again when she thought how it would have been like had she brought him here and they fucked each other like crazy all night long.

She would have felt like this in the morning, she conceded, if that really had happened.

But it did not happen, according to Lauren. And her friend had no reason to lie about something like that.

Her textbook slipped from her fingers and clunked unto to the floor, pages bent, when she suddenly realized that her cunt felt exactly like she’d had a big man with a big cock fucking her all night. That hunk had felt big against her. And he’d felt really strong and athletic.

“Ahh, you’re stupid, Cassie. How could you accuse the man if you can’t even remember anything? He never could get in without a key.”

Something still kept bothering her and she tried to focus on what it was. But it kept slipping away when it felt like she was getting a grasp on it.

She stood up and washed the dish she had been eating from, took another quick shower just to wash off any lingering thought of icky things, and put on a lightweight, oversized shirt. She meant to fully dry her hair but her hair dryer’s whining loudness hurt her head. She took two more aspirins and decided to let her hair dry on its own.

Good, responsible girl that she was, she made certain her alarm was set, just in case. Then she gently laid her head on the pillow.

About ten seconds later, she finally grasped that vague thought that kept getting away like a slithery snake. She kept thinking about it until she was half-asleep. Just before she completely dozed off, some slid into place, like a puzzle’s missing pieces.

She shifted herself around the bed trying to get comfortable. Her sore tits were not happy. She drifted off and fell into an odd dream, must have been fed by her unresolved anxieties and questions. In her dream, she watched as her friends talked about her while she was passed out in her bed.

“Okay, she’s good,”
Krystal said as the others moved to leave.
“Let’s lock the door. Oh, and leave the keys by the door so she can find it when she wakes up.”

In the dream, her friends were leaving and locking her in. Her clothes were intact and in their proper place as she laid prone on the bed, not moving.

Then… he was just there—her dance partner. The gorgeous hunk with the magician’s hands materialized before her. He came out of nowhere and he was just there, staring down at her with his warm, heavy lidded, sexy eyes.

“What are you doing here?”
he asked her, even when it was him who was in her room. She was awake and looking up at him with eyes pleading in need.

She wanted to fall into those sad eyes of his. He looked like he was in pain. But he smiled.

She wanted him, but she didn’t move since she was still wondering how to ask how he’d gotten in.

He smiled.
“Oh… I know you do. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t summoned me, Beautiful.”

Then he bent and he started to kiss her. She immediately kissed him back, and the kiss turned into something hungry and alive and fiery. His hands were both rough and tender as he explored her, as he did away with her clothes in wanting to reach her skin. She, too, tried to tear his clothes off of him. She wanted to feel him. She wanted his naked skin against her naked skin. She wanted to burn for him.

“Yes, Beautiful?”
He’d answered as if he’d heard her mind speak. But he soon paid no heed to her because he was suckling on her tits, pulling at them gently but firmly with his teeth and devouring them.