When I was but a young sprog, I was very envious of my Krisma Boet and Nazi Sis (older siblings). They were teenager`s way back in the late 80`s and early 90`s. A time when Wham was big, padded jackets was still â€˜acceptable` in normal society and
Club Company and Images was still open. It also meant that most DJ`s had a moment in their set when they would slow things way down for couples to slow dance. *smile* Or blues.
Nowâ€¦ this could be the most exhilarating experience or traumatic experience for you, depending on whether some guy asks you to dance with him (Meisie, wil jy blues?) or the worst if you aren`t asked and you do the whole wallflower stint. Keep in mind; this was in a time when chicks just did not make the first move. So, you idled along the wall, till you are approached by some pimply-faced dude with his stonewashed denim jeans, white t-shirt with sleeves rolled up and padded denim jacket (yes, he IS wearing it in a hot club. Because he is cool, see)â€¦white socks and grasshoppers are optional.
Girls loved to be asked. It showed that they were not total social outcasts. Boys loved it because you can get to at least 2nd base when you`re dancing real close and the lights are off. At the very leastâ€¦you get to neck. Anyway, I digressâ€¦I burned with envy for the fact that my siblings were old enough to be privy to these dark and dangerous antics. Not that the Female Parental Unit ever let them goâ€¦but that was not the point. The point was that they would somehow be allowed in, would they have been allowed to go (at the time it made perfect sense).
My pointâ€¦my point is that, years later, I still have a thing for a nice slow dance. Not the type of dance where the music is slow and the press of a boy`s body is all you feel. I`m talking about the dance between two strangers who are strangely (just possibly) fascinated by each other.
I`m talking about the slow look across a room, the quirk of a smile, a raised eyebrow, the slow circling of each other, a whispered remark, a quick turning away. And when you speak oh so briefly the subtle wetting of your lips with your tongue to focus the other person`s attention there. The hunt, the prowlâ€¦the sweet dance.
It`s a delicious thingâ€¦a sweet agonising game of cat and mouse, which can be played forever or just a day. I love the dark thrill of dancing my dance with a stranger, without a single other person knowing that we`re dancing. It`s intimate and very sexy â€¦although, in reality, we`re not speaking a word to each other. And there`s a possibility we never will.
And therein lies the problem *smile* I fear I might be addicted to the dance. Like a cat that loses interest with a dead mouse, I have found that it is in my Aries nature to love the challenge, but to lose interest in the reward. I wonder if it is a fear of being tied downâ€¦or just sheer ADD on my part.
There have been sweet moments though. Moments when I`ve been challenged, rose to the occasion, been rewarded and somehowâ€¦did not lose interest. Did not lose interest because I was still being challenged and I wasn`t feeling tied down.
But a danceâ€¦ The intimacy and the thrill of circling himâ€¦him circling you. Damn, it`s addictive
â€¦ and so damn sexy