A Story of You #1 Slow Dance

Hello my dears!

You’ve all been on the edge of your seats I’m sure, but I finally have the top ten entrants to my anniversary contest! I picked the stories based on writing quality and originality of the content. It was a tough choice – all the stories were sexy and well-told and wonderful.

Now it’s your turn. Who do you think deserves to win a pair of vampire gloves? Tantus’ new Vamp dildo? An autographed copy of Tristan Taormino’s new book? It’s all up to you to decide. Each person gets one vote. I’ll be tracking my IP address to prevent multiple votes from the same person . The entry with the most votes gets first pick, entry with second-most votes gets second pick, and entry with third-most votes gets third pick.

You can vote AND read all the stories at this page, but I’ll also be posting one story per day so you’ll have time to digest them all This will push the end of the contest back a few days, but I think it’s worth it.

Entrants may vote, but please don’t disclose which entry is yours to others. I’m trying to keep the entries anonymous until voting closes.

The last day to vote will be Sept 25, 11:59 PST.

Without further ado, here is entry number one by Curvaceous Dee:

1. Slow Dance

We had been doing the slow dance of flirtation for months. She was unconventionally attractive – her slim legs ending in Doc Marten boots beneath her skirts, a laughing mouth and teasing eyes – but it was quite some time before I realized I was attracted to her. A girl. Another woman. Not a man, in other words.  That was a first for me, and it was some weeks of heavy pondering in the early hours, before I came to accept that I was attracted to whomever I was attracted to – in this case, her.

I found myself daydreaming about her. I’d sit at my desk at work, thinking of her one floor below on the phones, and I’d make excuses to travel down and see her, a folder in my hand so I had a nominal excuse. We arranged our lunch hours to coincide, and sat together in the cafeteria.  Each Friday we’d both be a part of the crowd at the pub for drinks, and we’d be at the same parties too.  Our boyfriends both accompanied us as well, but that didn’t stop me following her with my eyes.  One evening, at a hot pulsing noisy club and after too much to drink, we came together in a slow grinding dance to the beat, her booted leg thrust between mine, and held firmly in place.

The flirtation had increased once I’d come to terms my attraction – I flirted back with tempered enthusiasm. My daydreams filtered into night-dreams as well.  I would wake up damp and horny and aroused, and fuck my boyfriend, orgasming while I thought of her watching.

There was a party long in the planning, a co-worker’s idea and with a 1980′s theme. We planned our costumes together; arranged to meet there. The house was overflowing with people in dated outfits, swigging jello-shots and dancing badly to synthesizer music. I was there with my boyfriend, but my eyes were on her.

When the break-dancing contest was in full swing, and all attention focused on the jerky moves of the contestants, she took my hand. We walked outside, and across the temporarily deserted driveway. We were heading for the shed, it seemed, and she gently tugged me in behind, in the damp grassy shadows.

We embraced, and she kissed me. Slow and unbelievably soft, questing and tasting of wine. I kissed back, and we forgot about the party, the boys, the music and the world. It was just her, and just me. And our connection together. A few minutes alone, in the dark, inside each other.

She was my first.

Read the rest of the entries here…

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