Valentine's Day Dance

by Brandy Chase©
The woman simply oozes sophistication from every pore. The words "charm, style, and grace" were most likely created just for her. If "Class" isn't her middle name, it should be. Although I rarely see her wearing a pair of jeans, what the woman does to them should be illegal. She should not be allowed to walk anywhere near a road, she's a serious obstruction to the smooth, safe flow of traffic. She has curves in places most women don't even have places. She should come under the protection of the Pure Food and Drug Administration, because she has to be some of the finest eating stuff ever put on this planet. At least that's what I see every time I look at Ms. Renee Du Pratt; grade-A, finger-lickin', tongue-smackin', top-shelf, prime eatin' material.

Now if I could just figure out how to become her official taste-tester, I'd be one deliriously happy little lady. Every time she flows through the front door of the beauty salon I work for as a nail technician, my heart begins a slow meltdown, my panties get wet, and my tongue gets hard. And all of that takes place before she even sits down in the little cubical I work out of in the rear of the shop and places her delicate hand with its long, willowy fingers in my hands so I can do her nails. I put a lot of extra time into doing her nails, so I try to schedule her for my last appointment of the day. Anything less than my best effort would not suffice on such a magnificent creature. Besides, once she's left the salon, I'm not much good for anything else the rest of the day. I can't help it; she just has that effect on me.

Last Saturday, Saint Valentine's Day, Ms. Du Pratt caught me off guard. She hadn't made an appointment, but shortly before closing time, my heart kicked into overdrive when she came rushing across the salon toward me. I had never seen her looking so exquisite. She was dressed to the nines, apparently for an evening on the town. "Oh wonderful, I caught you before you left!" her sultry voice drifted across the salon. "I hope you can help me. I was on my way to a Valentine party, and can you believe it, I broke a damn nail on the way out the door!"

"Isn't that the way it always happens?" I managed to say without my voice shaking too much. "Always when you're in a hurry. I can fix it. It'll only take a few minutes. Come on back to my work station." Naturally, I was only too pleased to stay after closing time to do her nail, or anything else she might possibly wish to have done. Hey, that's just the kind of conscientious employee I am, always willing to go the extra mile to please my customers, especially this particular customer. And it has nothing to do with the fact that she usually tips me more than I've made the rest of the entire day.

"Are you sure you don't mind, Hun?" she asked. "I know you probably have somewhere to go this evening. I mean, with it being Valentine's Day and all."

"Even if I did, which I don't, it could wait long enough for me to take care of you," I replied.

"I promise to make it well worth your while," she said.

"You always do," I replied. But I refrained from telling her that it wasn't her money I was interested in.

As the rest of the employees left for the evening I locked the front door and turned off the lights in the front portion of the shop; I wanted the salon to appear closed. Once we were inside my small cubical I sat down at my glass-top worktable. Ms. Du Pratt pulled her Mink coat closed around herself, sat down across from me, and placed her hand in mine. My heart fluttered several times before I could get it under control. I hated to let go of her precious hand, but the sleeve of her fur coat was too close to my work for comfort. God! If I were to get something on a coat like that I'd be working the rest of my life just to pay the cleaning bill! "I know I said this wouldn't take long, but maybe you should take your coat off before I get started. I'd sure hate to get any of this stuff on it."

"Good point," she replied, getting up to remove the expensive fur coat, and hang it on the coat hook on the wall.

I silently gasped when she turned back toward me; the short, slinky, red-velveteen dress she was wearing was open down the front nearly to her navel, exposing large portions of her ample breasts. The lacy hemline of the dress was a good foot above her perfect knees, making her long, slender legs look all that much longer and sexier.

Well, maybe my gasp hadn't been quite as silent as I had thought because she gave me a big smile and asked, while striking a sexy, model-like pose, "Whataya think?"

"Oh my God, that's awesome!" I exclaimed. Even though I figured her to be around forty, she was the hottest, sexiest woman I had ever laid eyes on. She was actually making me drool, and my mouth wasn't the only part of my body drooling at the moment.

"The party I'm on my way to is at the home of some special friends and we always try to out-sexy each other when we have one of these parties," she explained. "I don't normally dress like this to go out."

"If I looked anywhere near that hot, you'd never be able to get me outta that dress. Well, you could get me out of it to… never mind," I caught myself just in the nick of time.

Her smile shifted to more of a sexy grin. "Yeah, I know what you mean," she replied, her voice going softer, sexier. "There's always a good reason to come outta your clothes."

I couldn't get my mouth working in order to reply to that.

Her eyes locked on mine as she sat back down. She turned to put her long legs under the table, but stopped to kick off her bright-red, four-inch stiletto-heeled shoes so her knees wouldn't bang against the bottom of the table. "I can come up with several good reasons without even thinking about it." Her huge, almond-shaped, dark eyes felt like they were penetrating right to my very soul. Her grin faded slightly as the tip of her tongue glided across her bright-red upper lip.

I had to get my mind back on track fast, before I said something stupid. I tried to get my mind back to the job at hand. "I… uh… I… better get your nail fixed… or you'll never get to the party," I stumbled over my words. I prayed she wouldn't notice how much my hands were trembling as I took her hand to start fixing her broken nail.

"That's okay, Hun, I'm in no hurry to get out of here. But you probably are. I would imagine this has been a pretty busy day for you," she spoke in almost a whisper as she shifted her body to cross her legs under the table.

Glass-top tables have several great advantages over wooden tables, one of which is that I could see her long, gorgeous legs under the table. I got a great glimpse of her red-lace panties as her knees parted in order to cross her legs, and her hem slid so high up her thighs I could see the red garters holding up her lacy, white stockings. Try as I might, I could not pull my eyes from the breathtaking view of the incredibly silky-looking, dark-toffee-colored skin above the tops of her stockings.

"You okay, Sweetie," she asked. "Your hands are shaking."

"Uh… yeah… my mind… was wandering for a moment, that's all," I finally managed to speak and force my eyes back to her broken nail.

"Well, I hope it wandered somewhere exciting," she said with a grin sexy enough to melt your panties off, "because whatever it was sure seems to have made you pretty nervous."

"Oh, it was a pretty exciting place alright," I replied, trying to regain a modicum of composure. "I would have been delighted to have lingered there a bit longer, but this nail requires my full attention at the moment."

"Maybe after I'm gone your mind can go back to where it was," she said.

"When you leave, so will… never mind," I almost slipped. I busied myself with the task at hand and all too quickly had her nail repaired to its original splendor. All it needed at that point was repainting. "You know this color doesn't exactly match you gorgeous outfit?"

"I know, but you don't have time to repaint them all. So I'll just have to settle for the color they are," she replied sounding almost disappointed.

"If you've got the time for me to do them, I have absolutely nothing else to do this evening," I said.

"You mean to tell me, some handsome fellow isn't taking you out to dinner tonight?" she asked.

"Nope, afraid not," I replied. "I rarely date men." I have no idea why I let that slip out of my big mouth.

"Then perhaps, some pretty lady is taking you out tonight," she pursued the subject.

"Don't I wish," I admitted.

"I knew there was something about you that I liked," she said as one of her beautiful feet brushed against my calf.

My eyes rose to meet hers. My heart pounded in my chest. If my hands had been shaking any worse, I wouldn't have been able to hold onto her hand any longer. "You mean you're…?"

She cut me off. "Yes, I'm gay, lesbian, if that's what you're trying to say?"

"Oh my God" I mumbled. "I would have never…"

"You have a problem with that?" she asked, the smile fading from her goddess-like face.

"No… I… uh… I think it's wonderful," I stammered. "I just would have thought a woman as magnificent looking as you would have men killing each other to get a date with you."

"I have no use whatsoever for men," she replied. "As far as I'm concerned, they're all vile, self-centered, egotistical, sexually challenged, inadequate lovers. Who needs them?"

"Not me, that's for sure," I agreed, finally having to let go of her delightful hand because I was shaking so bad I was afraid I would break another of her nails. Her foot was no longer lightly brushing against my calf, it was rubbing higher and higher, up and down my leg.

"Am I making you nervous?" she asked.

"It's not you," I replied. "It's me."

"What do you mean, 'It's you'?" she asked.

I sat there for a few moments thinking over the best, honest way to answer her question, but couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't tell her how I'd felt about her for a long time. I mean, I wasn't even close to being in her class. To tell her how much I loved her and what it did to me every time she was around, would probably be insulting to her. "I didn't mean anything," I finally answered.

"Oh, I see," she said, sounding disappointed again. "It's the salt and pepper thing, isn't it?"

"Are you crazy?" I snapped. "I think you're one of the most gorgeous women to ever grace the face of this planet and it doesn't matter what color you are."

"Then why are you so nervous?" she pressed on.

I couldn't answer her. "You better let me get those nails painted so you can go to your party."

"Fine," she barked, slapping her hand down on the table.

I began cleaning the old polish from her nails, as tears began slowly creeping down my face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.

"Nothing," I replied, looking into her beautiful eyes. "But if you don't stop asking me silly questions, I'll never get your nails done."

Renee sat there quietly until I had finishing doing her nails. I was amazed at how nice they had came out, considering how much my hands had been shaking the whole time I was doing them. And with the blurred vision I had going for me, I was surprised I had actually gotten the polish on the nails instead of all over her fingers.

She raised her hands and waved them in front of her eyes. "Nice job, and the color's perfect. How much do I owe you? And don't forget how late it is."

"You don't owe me anything," I said. "It was my pleasure."

"Don't be silly," she said, starting to pull her foot away from my leg so she could stand up.

I grabbed the departing appendage and pulled it back against my leg. "But if you'll just keep doing that for a little while I'll call it even," I said.

The smile that suddenly covered her face was absolutely wonderful. "Oh? I was wondering if you were liking that or just being polite by not mentioning it." Her foot started slowly working its way up and down my leg again. Her other foot quickly jointed in, but went to work on the inside of my calf.

"It feels so nice," I replied.

"You should feel it from my side," she said as one of her feet slipped up onto my chair and began working its way up between my thighs.

My hands dropped to the foot between my thighs, gently rubbing the delightful intruder, I gradually pulled it farther upward as I slid down in my chair a bit. I almost screamed when it finally pressed lightly against my already-soaked panties.

"Oh my! How'd your panties get so wet already?" she teased.

"Now I ain't taken the blame this time. That's your fault," I mumbled, attempting to hold back the moans I could feel growing in my throat. "It happens every time you're here."

"Well now, isn't that just the cutest thing," she purred. "But you might wanna get those wet panties off before that sweet little thing I know is hiding behind them catches a cold."

The moans I had been stifling quickly found their way to freedom the moment her long toes began probing their way inside the leg of my now-in-the-way panties. I have to admit, it was a real wrestling match as I pulled my skirt up around my hips and tried to wiggle out of my soaked panties while she refused to move her foot enough for me to get out of them. I had to pull my legs almost up to my chest in order to get out of the wet panties, which ended up wrapped around the ankle of the foot that was moving so delightfully against my excited womanhood. The magic her toes were creating only stopped long enough for her to reach under the table and snatch my panties from between us.

"You might wanna do something about my stockings, I have a feeling they're about to get in the way too," she said.

Without thinking, in near panic at the prospect of her stopping, I grabbed the toe of one of her stockings and ripped it open with my fingernails. Seconds later, her other stocking suffered a similar disaster.

She giggled, "That's not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess it got the job done."

I said nothing; I was too busy panting with anticipation of the pleasures to come.

Moments later, my panties were under her nose, and those magnificent toes of hers were gently wiggling their way between the moist folds of my flesh. The toes of one foot tenderly danced over my swollen clit while the big toe of her other foot slowly, but insistently, worked its way inside my center. Even though my mind was totally engrossed in what her fantastic feet were doing, I could not pull my eyes from her beautiful face. There was a sparkle in her large dark eyes I had never seen before as my panties waved under her nose and her toes danced their way into more than just my heart.

The moans that had been, one by one, easing from my throat as Renee gently stoked the storm brewing inside me, suddenly became a scream as the storm decided it was time to show just how powerful it could be. What can only be described as the hurricane of the century raged through my body as it instantly released several years worth of pent-up energy all at once.

The only sensation registering outside of the typhoon rampaging throughout my body was Renee's gentle voice calling to me, "That's it Baby. Let it happen. Let it all go. Happy Valentine's Day."

As the storm gradually subsided within me, I became award of how tight I was holding onto her feet and how hard I was pulling both of them against me. I also realized just how wet and slippery her feet and my hands had suddenly become.

I finally looked back up at Renee. All I could do was give her a weak smile and a long groan.

"Ya liked that, did ya?" she teased, trying to ease her drenched feet from between my thighs.

Reluctantly, I allowed her feet to escape. "I'm sure there's a better word than liked for it, but right now I can't think of anything," I mumbled, my smile still weak. "That was the wildest, most erotic, thing I've ever experienced."

"What are you talking about? That was just a nice little warm-up exercise," she said, "the real pleasure is yet to come. Pardon the pun."

"If that was just a warm-up, I don't know if I want to be around when you decide you want to start a real fire," I replied. "A person could be killed like that."

"Oh, but what a way to go," she said with a huge smile. "I was just trying to keep you occupied while my nails dried. When I decide it's time to ignite your booster rockets, believe me, you'll be the first to know. But by then, it'll be too late for you to do anything about it except hang on and enjoy the ride."

"Any time you wanna dance on me again, you just let me know," I replied.

"I think it was a rather nice Valentine's Day dance if you ask me," she teased.

"Yeah, and what the hell do you do for an encore?" I asked.

"I guess you're just going to have to wait until after the party to find out," she replied.

"Oh, you have to leave now?" I nearly whined.

"Yeah, I do, but you're going with me," she said. "I mean, I'd love for you go to the party with me. I'd like to show you off to my friends."

I almost laughed in her face. "You'd like to show me off? Now there's an novel concept for ya; one of the most gorgeous people on the planet wanting to show me off to their friends."

"That's what I said," she replied. "Whether you know it or not, you're quite a little cutie yourself, girl. You obviously don't look in a mirror very often."

My face must have turned beet-red. "Yeah, I do, but I certainly don't see anything like what you think you see when you look at me."

"Well, take my word for it, I really like what I see," she replied. "Now tell me why you were crying awhile ago."

"Because I thought I had made you mad and it hurt me deep inside to think that," I said.

"I thought you were trying to rush me outta here," she explained. "I thought you didn't like me because I'm black."

"Woman, can't you see how much I love you? I've loved you since the first day you set foot inside the door of this place," I explained.

"How come you never let me know, or at least gave me some little indication of how you felt?" she asked.

"I don't know how to explain this to you in any way you would understand, because I'm sure it's a problem you've never had to deal with," I answered. "But straight out, there's different classes of people, and sometimes those of the higher classes don't wish to mingle with those of the lower classes and would even take insult to the prospect of such a notion."

"Wait a second!" she snapped, a dark frown on her face. "Are you saying you're too good for me? Or are you ashamed to be seen with a black woman?"

"Dammit, Renee, you're not listening to me!"

"The hell I ain't!" she nearly shouted. "And it sounds like you think you've got more class than me, or too good for me!"

"Okay, you are listening, but you're not hearing what I'm saying," I replied. "You have it backwards. I've never said anything to you because I always felt you were miles above me, dammit, not because I was better than you! That's why I was crying, I thought I had offended you and it upset me!"

"Girl, you're one crazy, mixed-up lady, you know that?" she said, shaking her pretty head back and forth, her beautiful smile back in place.

I looked deep into those gorgeous eyes of hers. "Are you still going to take me to the party?"

"I don't know," she replied. "You never accepted my invitation. Do you wanna go with me?"

"I'd love to," I answered. "But if your friends are all beautiful like you, I don't think I'll fit in very well with them. And I doubt I have anything sexy enough to wear to a party like theirs."

"Let me tell you about this group of special friends of mine," she began. "Some of them are beautiful on the outside, some are beautiful on the inside, and a few of them are actually beautiful both ways. But they're all wonderful ladies and very dear friends."


"Wait a second, did you say they're all wonderful ladies? Won't there be any men there?" I asked.

"No men allowed. This is strictly a lesbian group," she replied. "You have a problem with that?"

"I have no problem at all with it. In fact, I find it rather interesting," I replied.

"Don't get the wrong idea," she said. "It's not a sex group. We're just a bunch of really good friends who enjoy each other's company and a chance to discuss lesbian issues. So if you're looking for a wild orgy, you've got the wrong lady. I'm very much a one-woman gal, and I'm very protective of what I consider to be mine. You need to know that up front about me. I don't mind a little joking and cutting up between my lady and a friend, but I'm not into sharing things I place a high value on. And I'll tell ya right now; you, I would be placing at the very top of my things-I-value-most list. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not the raging jealous type like what I just told you must have sounded like. I wouldn't mind sharing your time with others or anything like that. I'm not one of those suffocating partners we've all seen and hate. But I will not share my lady sexually with anyone. I draw the line there."

"Are you calling me your lady?" I asked, my smile so big it was about to rip my face off.

"Well, no, I was referring to… Yes, yes I was! If we walk out that door together tonight, that's exactly what you'll be to me, and I hope that's what I'll be to you," she snapped.

Moments later, we walked out the front door together, headed two blocks up the street to my apartment so I could get ready to go to the party and hopefully to find another pair of stockings for Renee to wear to the party. We walked with my arm around her waist and her arm draped over my shoulder, cuddling me inside her warm, Mink coat. I was now her lady, or she was my lady, whichever.

"Sorry about your stockings," I apologized quietly.

"I'm not." She smiled down at me.

I was wondering what the party was going to be like. But mostly, I was wondering what my life was going to be like being the lady of a wonderful woman like Ms. Renee Du Pratt.