Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Drama
- Published: 04/14/2019
He doesn’t know I’m alive. Outside of setting myself on fire in front of him, I can’t think of a way I can capture his attention, his interest . . . in me. I awoke in a cold sweat just thinking about him, the wild animal inside of me, pacing back and forth, back and forth. I wanted him. I wanted to be dominated by him.
"Miranda, the bus will be here in a minute. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Mom. See you later."
"Bye, sweetie. Behave yourself."
Behave myself. She says that every morning. That's the last thing I want to do with my El Toro, my bull. If I could only stop thinking about him, but how to do that is my dilemma. He’s really nothing special to look at but when he walks into a room, my poor heart sinks into my shoes.
I'm not a hip-happy person, but the movement of El Toro's hips, as he passes by, produces beads of sweat on the back of my neck. It reminds me of the one and only time I saw him dance the Tango. He moved in a way I know my mother would never approve of, but I would. He and his partner flowed effortlessly across the floor. It was sheer magic. I imagined myself in a red dress, pressed up against him, clinging to him, my legs, clad in brilliant red stilettos, following every command of his body, thrilling to his domination. I was in seventh heaven. Well, maybe not seventh heaven but it was up there somewhere.
The very first time I ever saw him, I was ascending a flight of stairs leading to the museum, and he was descending. We passed each other in the middle of the staircase. He didn’t notice me. I stopped and turned – he kept going. I felt the overpowering urge to follow him. I didn’t. Another one of the ‘what ifs’ in my life.
When the public dance was announced, I hoped he would be there . . . alone. If he were alone, it would be an opportunity to approach him and ask him for a dance. But, what if he laughed? That would be horrible. I would have to leave the building. And then there would be the continued humility of seeing him around the campus. Death by a thousand cuts would be easier.
But what if he didn’t mind and accepted me for a few precious minutes. I would be able to touch him, feel his warmth, experience his embrace, his strength, the gaze from his eyes into mine, and his scent. Oh, yes, his scent. An opportunity to inhale his essence and flood my soul with his wild mustang being.
“May I have the next dance?” I held my breath.
He looked up and smiled. “Yes, of course.” He stood and moved closer. He was much taller than I thought. “Do you tango?”
“Yes . . . I do.”
“I’m so glad you asked.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I’ve been watching you.”
“You have?”
“Yes. The red dress is perfect. You are so beautiful.”
“I am . . . I mean thank you.”
The tango music began.
“Shall we?” He took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. With a swirl, I was in his arms. His strength, his scent, his warmth surrounded me, encompassed me, dominated me. Our eyes connected. We floated effortlessly across the floor. We were one, I was his.
The alarm went off. I slammed my hand on the off button. “DAMNATION!”
"Miranda. That's the second time your alarm has gone off. You're going to be late. Now get up."
"Yes, Mother."
THE END
Thank you for reading this story.
Here’s a little humor to send you on your way.
Click on the URL or cut and paste into your browser.
http://chirb.it/gPmcnH
TANGO(JT Evergreen)
He doesn’t know I’m alive. Outside of setting myself on fire in front of him, I can’t think of a way I can capture his attention, his interest . . . in me. I awoke in a cold sweat just thinking about him, the wild animal inside of me, pacing back and forth, back and forth. I wanted him. I wanted to be dominated by him.
"Miranda, the bus will be here in a minute. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Mom. See you later."
"Bye, sweetie. Behave yourself."
Behave myself. She says that every morning. That's the last thing I want to do with my El Toro, my bull. If I could only stop thinking about him, but how to do that is my dilemma. He’s really nothing special to look at but when he walks into a room, my poor heart sinks into my shoes.
I'm not a hip-happy person, but the movement of El Toro's hips, as he passes by, produces beads of sweat on the back of my neck. It reminds me of the one and only time I saw him dance the Tango. He moved in a way I know my mother would never approve of, but I would. He and his partner flowed effortlessly across the floor. It was sheer magic. I imagined myself in a red dress, pressed up against him, clinging to him, my legs, clad in brilliant red stilettos, following every command of his body, thrilling to his domination. I was in seventh heaven. Well, maybe not seventh heaven but it was up there somewhere.
The very first time I ever saw him, I was ascending a flight of stairs leading to the museum, and he was descending. We passed each other in the middle of the staircase. He didn’t notice me. I stopped and turned – he kept going. I felt the overpowering urge to follow him. I didn’t. Another one of the ‘what ifs’ in my life.
When the public dance was announced, I hoped he would be there . . . alone. If he were alone, it would be an opportunity to approach him and ask him for a dance. But, what if he laughed? That would be horrible. I would have to leave the building. And then there would be the continued humility of seeing him around the campus. Death by a thousand cuts would be easier.
But what if he didn’t mind and accepted me for a few precious minutes. I would be able to touch him, feel his warmth, experience his embrace, his strength, the gaze from his eyes into mine, and his scent. Oh, yes, his scent. An opportunity to inhale his essence and flood my soul with his wild mustang being.
“May I have the next dance?” I held my breath.
He looked up and smiled. “Yes, of course.” He stood and moved closer. He was much taller than I thought. “Do you tango?”
“Yes . . . I do.”
“I’m so glad you asked.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I’ve been watching you.”
“You have?”
“Yes. The red dress is perfect. You are so beautiful.”
“I am . . . I mean thank you.”
The tango music began.
“Shall we?” He took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. With a swirl, I was in his arms. His strength, his scent, his warmth surrounded me, encompassed me, dominated me. Our eyes connected. We floated effortlessly across the floor. We were one, I was his.
The alarm went off. I slammed my hand on the off button. “DAMNATION!”
"Miranda. That's the second time your alarm has gone off. You're going to be late. Now get up."
"Yes, Mother."
THE END
Thank you for reading this story.
Here’s a little humor to send you on your way.
Click on the URL or cut and paste into your browser.
http://chirb.it/gPmcnH
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
04/14/2019That was a FUN short romantic fantasy story, JT. Thanks for sharing it on Storystar, and for all the other great short stories you've shared with us over the years. Congratulations on being selected as the Short Story Writer of the Month. Well deserved and earned! :-)
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
JT Evergreen
04/14/2019You hit the nail on the head, jd, with the word FUN. When I saw that illustration, the story was there. and all I did was write it down. I could get away with much more as a dream sequence than a reality setting which could be lurid if not handled correctly. Ciao, JT
COMMENTS (2)