The Outcasts 4: The Dancer
Auteur·e
Ruth Robinson
Lectures
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Chapitres
28
Chapter 1
Book 4: The Dancer
Louisa
ONE YEAR AGO
The discordant wails of the string instruments tuning up and the toots and squeaks of wind instruments add to the excited cacophony of sounds as we wait with bated breath for the heavy red velvet curtain to rise.
Or at least some of us do.
I roll my eyes as my mother and my older sister have a whispered argument over the top of me.
“I just don’t understand how you could let yourself get mixed up with two boys! What will people think!”
Anna grits her teeth. “I didn’t let myself… Get mixed up with them?! I fell in love with them both.”
Yeah. My big sister managed to snag herself two sexy men, who both seem besotted with her.
Our mom harrumphs, crossing her arms tightly across her front.
“I still think you should be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of that poor handicapped boy. And that other one… How he can dare go out in polite society looking the way he does?”
“Mom!” I intervene, sensing that Anna is about two seconds from exploding. “Anna’s boyfriends are both great, and they are all—all three of them—equal partners in their relationship.
“Can we please not talk about this tonight and just enjoy the dancing? Please?” I look at my mom until she nods slightly, then look over at Anna.
“Please, Anna-banana?”
She rolls her eyes, slipping her hand into mine and gives it a small squeeze. “Okay, Lou-lou.”
I settle back into the creaky fold-down seat, the tingle of anticipation starting in my bottom and sparking up my spine as the lights go down and the conductor takes his place in front of the orchestra.
He taps his baton against the metal music stand, and the theater grows quiet.
I can’t wipe the huge grin off my face as I watch, completely entranced by the dancers as they spin and leap their way across the stage, embodying the swells and dips of the music.
I had spent many years dancing myself, until I fell over when I was en pointe and snapped my ankle. It was always too weak to get back to the standard I once was, and it was just too painful knowing I’d never become a prima ballerina, so I quit.
But it didn’t dim my love for watching it.
This is only the small local company who performs in the small local theater, but it is all that is available unless I want to travel a couple hours to a bigger town. But they are still magical.
One dancer sticks out though.
One dancer who I can’t take my eyes off.
One dancer who makes me press my thighs together with hot need.
Even with full body makeup on, you can still see the faint black splodges of what must be tattoos over his torso and arms.
His thigh muscles ripple under the skin-colored tights as he lifts the ballerina he is partnered with, his toned chest and stomach tight as he supports her weight over his head, his striking face bewitching under the soft lighting.
Anna leans over the armrest. “I wouldn’t mind him twirling me around like that.”
I giggle as our mom tuts, and Anna squeezes my arm with a devilish grin. “You know I can’t resist a man with tattoos. Maybe I can add him to my harem?”
“Annegret!” our mom hisses, shooting a dark look over my lap at her.
I take Mom’s hand, rubbing a soothing thumb over her knuckles while jabbing my elbow in Anna’s giggling side.
~***~
“Happy birthday!”
I smile at the two drunk classmates as they stumble past me. The house party was in full swing already by the time I had finished acting as referee between my mom and my sister.
One of the few benefits of being the sister of someone who is viewed as the devil incarnate by our mother is that I pretty much get away with anything.
If Anna said she was going to hang out with friends, she was given the third degree and threats of being cut off or kicked out if she was back home a second after curfew.
When I say I am going out, my mom gives me a kiss and tells me how proud she is of me and to stay safe.
As long as my grades stay high and I don’t find myself in trouble with any authority figures, my mom happily lets me do whatever I want.
I know it pissed Anna off when we were both in high school and I was treated as the golden child, the highly held example she could never hope to reach.
Luckily, our friend groups were so different at school that the parties we went to never overlapped, so she never really saw how much I liked to let loose.
“Hey, Lou-lou.” Gareth, one of the guys I usually end up wrapped around by the end of the night, greets me from his perch on the front wall, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingertips. “How’s the birthday girl doing tonight?”
I snake the beer from his grasp, draining the bottle, and give him a smile as I give him the empty bottle back. “I’m okay…but I could be a lot better.”
Slowly licking my lips, I watch his eyes track the movement of my tongue, and I sashay past him, trying to put extra swing into my hips, grinning widely when I feel his hands grip my waist.
“I’m sure I can help in that area.” His voice is gravelly with arousal by my ear.
“I’m sure you can try,” I murmur beneath my breath, turning my head slightly to flash him what I hope is an alluring smile.
He’s a good-looking guy, maybe a little clean cut for some, but I like the preppy boy look, and he seems to like me plenty.
Making a beeline for the stairs, we soon find an empty bedroom, and as soon as he twists the lock, Gareth’s lips are on mine.
The guy can kiss. I mean, I can feel his want in the perfect pressure of his lips against mine, his tongue knows what to do once it finds its way into my mouth…but it doesn’t bring any of the tingles I think should happen.
His fingers find their way under my sweater, skating against the satin of my bra as he walks us back toward the bed. The backs of my legs hit the bed frame, and I drop down onto my ass, breaking the kiss.
Gareth uses the time to quickly strip himself out of his clothes, and I pull my sweater off and unzip my skirt, shimmying out of it.
“You are so fucking sexy, Lou.” Gareth’s eyes darken as he looks me up and down, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.
Sinking to his knees, he starts kissing his way up the inside of my thigh, hooking his fingers around the top of my panties and dragging them down my legs, dropping them onto the floor.
I lie back as he starts to eat me out.
This is where the disappointment starts.
It’s not that Gareth is bad—in fact, of all the guys I’ve been with, he’s probably one of the best at giving oral. He’s attentive, not too wishy-washy, doesn’t go too hard.
But I still feel nothing.
I think there’s something wrong with me.
None of the guys have ever been able to get me off. I can barely get myself off.
After a minute of work, Gareth raises from between my thighs, wiping his face with a smirk. “That good, baby?”
Yeah, boys are so dumb. A few well-placed moans, and they take that as a win.
“Yeah,” I purr, pulling him up my body and allowing him to latch onto my mouth again. He pulls back slightly, and the rustle of a condom wrapper fills the air, then he is nudging at my entrance with his dick.
I widen my legs, wincing slightly at the feel of the latex against my dry channel.
Yeah, that’s my other problem. Not only do I never get to reach the great O, but I also don’t seem to even get turned on…even when a guy who is as good at oral as Gareth is seeing to my kitty.
Luckily, boys either don’t notice or don’t care. I spread my legs a little wider, lying back and closing my eyes as he pumps inside of me.
I find my mind wandering to the dancer I’d been watching earlier tonight. I wonder what he looks like without all the makeup. I wonder if he would be good in bed…or standing up. His muscles would definitely be able to support my weight…
“Ohmigod… I’m gonna…fuck!” Gareth interrupts my tantalizing daydream, pulsing inside of me as he finishes.
He drops his slightly sweaty forehead against mine, panting, and presses a quick kiss to my temple. “Thanks, Lou-lou…I know I can always count on you.”
I give him a tight smile back as he pulls out of me, drawing my legs up to my body. “That’s me! Miss Dependable.”
Miss Frigid, more like.
