Dance of a Lifetime

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Dance of a Lifetime Page 120

by Frank Downey


  "Oh, Amy, you have to know I’d never do anything like that to you."

  "Yeah, I do. It took me a while to be sure, but I do."

  "There’s nobody else but you," Eric reiterated.

  "I know," Amy said. "And the same goes. There’s nobody else but you, either. Look, I’m outgoing. I like making friends. But I wouldn’t date any of those muscleheads that were surrounding me the other day even if you weren’t in the picture."

  "I know. I worry."

  "I know you do. I know why your parents got divorced." He looked at her, shocked. "Jessie told me. I guess we both have trouble trusting, for different reasons."

  "I do trust you," Eric said. "Absolutely. I guess I don’t trust myself. To keep you happy, I mean. This is all so damn new."

  Amy beamed at him. "Eric, you make me deliriously happy, don’t you know that? I’ve never met anyone like you. I know you’re not big on talking or anything, but you don’t have to. I can feel it. I can see it when I look at you. I’m glad you told me that you loved me, but you didn’t have to. I already knew. Whenever you’re with me, I feel ten feet tall."

  "And whenever you’re with me, I feel like I’m in sunlight," Eric replied.

  "Wow, that was poetic!"

  "Yeah, especially for me," Eric laughed. "But it’s true."

  "I’m so glad we had this talk. I think I’ve been waiting to get this all on the table."

  "Yeah. I really do love you, Amy. Lots. And I do trust you."

  "I love and trust, you, too. And I’ve been waiting a couple of months to be able to say that and mean it."

  "Good."

  "Now," Amy said. "We’ve had the conversation you wanted to have. It’s my turn." She leaned into him. "That relationship with the pairs skater? Look, I know he was an asshole, but the parts of it—well, it was a lot of fun. A whole lot of fun. And I haven’t had any fun since, because I needed to trust first. Well, I trust you. So now it’s time for fun."

  Eric looked at her, not quite getting it. She made it plain by leaning in and whispering in his ear, "You have no idea how horny I am. I’ve been waiting for this since the day we met. I want you. Oh God do I want you!"

  "You what?" Eric blurted, not quite believing what he’d just heard.

  "Do you have a hearing problem, sweetie?" she said, but without malice. "Well, then, maybe I’ll have to give you visual clues." She stood up off the couch, and put herself right in front of Eric. She grabbed the hem of her shirt, and quickly whipped it off. Then she reached around and undid her bra. She shrugged it to the floor.

  Before Eric could say a word—and he’d have to pick his jaw up off the floor first—Amy’s hands went to her jeans. Off they went, as she kicked her sneakers off with them. Then came the panties. Before Eric had time to blink, his girlfriend was standing there, grinning at him, wearing nothing but her socks.

  She pirouetted once for him, then sauntered over to his bed. She climbed on top of it, and cricked her finger at him.

  Poor Eric could barely stand. He managed, somehow, and walked over to the bed. "You’re so gorgeous," he gasped, looking down at Amy spread out on the bed. She giggled, and reached for the snap on his jeans.

  "I hope you don’t think I’m horrible, or completely out of my mind, but I really have been wanting this for a while. And I’m on the pill, so no worries there."

  Eric didn’t say anything, but pulled his shirt over his head. Amy pulled his pants and underwear down. Then she pulled him onto the bed, rolling herself on top of him and kissing him, their nude bodies rubbing together. She reached down, and grabbed Eric’s very hard cock.

  "Ooooh, nice," Amy hissed. Eric blushed. "Oh, God, Eric, I feel like I’ve been waiting forever for this!" And before Eric knew what was happening, Amy had scooted down the bed—and slid her mouth over his dick!

  "Oh GOD Amy!" Eric moaned, as she slipped her mouth onto his dick. She brushed the underside with her tongue, and gently sucked on it. Then she lowered her mouth on it, getting half of it into her mouth before it bumped up against the back of her mouth. She started moving up and down on it, using her tongue for extra emphasis.

  "Jeez!" Eric gasped. "Oh, God, Amy, I’m gonna---" Amy just kept sucking. She knew Eric was going to cum—she’d figured it was his first blow job and knew he wouldn’t last—and she wanted it. She didn’t have to wait long. To Eric’s amazement, she swallowed every drop.

  After she was done, she crawled up next to him, grinning from ear to ear. "You like?" she chirped.

  "Uhhhhhh," Eric moaned. "I, uh, I mean—my God!"

  "Glad you like." She bit her bottom lip. "I’m coming on very strong—are you OK with this?"

  "Yes," he said. "I want you as bad as you want me. Just realize—I’ve never even seen a naked girl before, OK?"

  "OK," she giggled. "Well, you see one now. You can even touch."

  "That’s a good idea," he said, and reached over to cup her breast in his hand. He gently fondled it, causing her to let out with a soft sigh. Then he leaned over and kissed her.

  She eagerly returned the kiss, opening her mouth so he could snake his tongue into it. His hand rubbed her boob. Then, it reached down, and went between her legs. He rubbed her pussy lips up and down with his finger. On one pass, he reached her clit, and she squealed.

  "OK?" he asked.

  "Very OK, but be gentle there," Amy said.

  Eric was inexperienced, but he wasn’t clueless—that would’ve been impossible with Sophia as an older sister! He’d asked some frank questions over the past few years, and Sophia was always good about answering them. So he knew what a clit was.

  He kept his hand on Amy’s pussy, running his finger up and down it, gently nudging her clit every so often. His other hand was still on her boob.

  Amy, for her part, was starting to get very warmed up, but she knew that there were better things than a hand. "Eric?" she asked, shakily. "Would you do what I did?"

  It took Eric a minute to get what she meant—but get it he did. He smiled at her, then lowered his mouth to her nipple. He gently sucked on her nipple for a minute, then worked his way down her stomach. He then settled himself between her legs.

  This was Eric’s very first close-up look at a pussy, and he took a good long look. Then he leaned in and ran his tongue along the length of it. Amy shuddered. The taste was unusual, Eric decided, but not bad, and definitely intoxicating. He nudged her labia with his tongue again, then dipped down to snake it into her opening. "Oh, God," she hissed.

  He pulled his tongue out, and replaced it with a finger, slipping it deep into her. She moaned, and bucked against his hand. Then he went back to work with his tongue, moving up and down the length of her pussy. Then he zeroed in on her clit, gently rubbing it with his tongue.

  "Oh, ERIC!" she cried, as she bucked her hips against his finger and tongue. He slipped his finger in and out of her, and increased the pressure with his tongue, sucking on her clit as his tongue lashed against it. "Yesyesyesyesyesyes!" she chanted, her legs stiffening and her hips moving against his face and hand. He kept it up and felt her build. "Yes! Yes! Oh God Yes! Oh ERIC!" And with that, she exploded, her pussy clamping down on his hand, the waves of her orgasm running up through her stomach and down her legs, her hips pushing her pussy against his face.

  Eric loved every minute of it.

  He climbed back up the bed, next to her, watching her come down. She opened her eyes, and saw him smiling at her. She smiled back. The next thing Eric knew, she was wrapped around him and was pulling him on top of her. "Oh, Jesus, Eric, FUCK ME!" she demanded. He was happy to oblige, and slipped into her in one stroke.

  She started gasping and moaning, and didn’t stop. Eric started slow, getting used to the sensations, then picked up the pace. Amy’s groans got deeper and louder. Then she started yelping, every time he hit bottom.

  He went into her hard and fast, but not too much, trying to hold of his own orgasm until she went again. Since she was still coming down from the tongue-lashing she h
ad gotten, it didn’t take long. "ERIC!" she screamed, and went again, her hips slamming up into his as her pussy clenched onto his dick. He went right in the middle of it.

  Afterwards, cuddling, she looked up at him and grinned. "So, that was your first time. How was it?"

  "Un-fucking-believable," he said.

  "Good," she giggled. She looked into his eyes, with a twinkle in her own. "So, now that I’ve found you, a guy who I love and trust—I predict I’m going to be pretty much insatiable. Think you can handle that?"

  He grinned back at her. "Give me ten minutes."

  She laughed—to Eric, a magical sound—and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Eric, I love you."

  "Love you, too."

  When Jessie and Ryan got to Las Vegas, they got a surprise. There was a knock on their hotel room door, and there stood Crash and Liz.

  "Crash? Liz? What are you guys doing here?" Jessie said.

  "We had to come. After you called me and told me what was going on, I called Warren and found out when and where," Crash told her. "I wanted to be here for this." He reached to Jess and pulled her into a hug. "Congratulations. Be happy."

  A little weepy, Jess pulled them into their room. Warren and Sophia came in shortly afterwards, and they chatted for a while, waiting for Ryan’s parents to show up.

  They showed up shortly, and finally met Jess. Jess immediately liked them. Ryan’s mother told her, "It’s so nice to finally meet you. I know how good you’ve been for Ryan. Of course, I thought I’d meet you before you married him!"

  "Well, you did. By a few hours," Jessie laughed.

  The whole group, including Jess’s parents, went out for supper. Luckily, Jessie’s mother and Ryan’s mother hit it off in a big way right from the start. And Jessie’s parents were thrilled to see Crash there.

  "So, when are you two doing this?" Mrs. Reidel asked Crash and Liz.

  "Next summer," Crash said.

  "That’s right, I meant to ask you, but I forgot—I thought you were waiting until after the Olympics to ask her?" Warren said.

  "I changed my mind," Crash grinned.

  "And I’m glad he did," Liz said.

  After supper, they went to the courthouse—which was always open in Vegas—and got the marriage license. Then they hit a jewelry store, looking for rings. They found a nice set, and bought them.

  When they got out of the jewelry store, Ryan reached into his pocket. "Before we put on the wedding rings, you need this one on." And he opened a box and pulled out a gorgeous diamond engagement ring.

  "Oh, Ryan," Jessie hissed, getting weepy again. "When did you get this?"

  "The other day, back home, right before we left. Even though it’s a short engagement, you should have a ring."

  "Oh, you," she sniffled. "Put it on." He did. Their parents and friends applauded.

  "Now we just need to find a chapel," Mrs. Killen said.

  "I want to get married by an Elvis impersonator," Ryan said.

  "Don’t you dare!" Jessie told him.

  "Ah, come on—it’d be fun. We’d be able to tell everyone we got married by Elvis."

  Jessie smirked at him. "No, you would be able to tell everyone you got married by Elvis. Because you wouldn’t be marrying me."

  "All right, all right," Ryan laughed.

  They found a chapel without an Elvis impersonator. A half-hour later, Ryan and Jessie were married.

  Chapter 158 - A Friend’s Tragedy

  Sophie was on the computer, checking out her email and also reading the latest news. Warren was in the room, playing with Betsy.

  "It got out," Sophie said with a grin.

  "What did?"

  "Ryan’s marriage. It’s in the news. ‘American Ice Dancer Ryan Killen married his lady love, Jessica Reidel, in a surprise ceremony in Las Vegas.’"

  Warren laughed. "We’ll have to tell Jess she got her name in the paper."

  "Yep," Sophie grinned. She read for a few more minutes, then burst out with, "Oh, wow!"

  "What, Pookie?"

  "The Westerlund burned down!"

  "Really?" The Westerlund was an old, historic skating rink—attached to a hotel—in Colorado Springs. It’d been the center of US figure skating for many decades. Though it had lost its singular prominence, it was still a training center, and events were still occasionally held there.

  "Yeah. Burned right to the ground. Doesn’t Chris train there?"

  Christine Arsenault, Sophie meant. "No, she trains in Denver. She’s from Colorado Springs, but she trains in Denver."

  "Oh. It says here all the skaters got out. Three firefighters died, though."

  Warren looked up. "Oh, shit!"

  "What?"

  "Christine’s brother, and her new boyfriend, are Colorado Springs firefighters."

  "Oh." Sophie looked at the screen. "One of the dead firefighters is David Arsenault."

  "Aw, fuck. That’s her brother. Oh, poor Chris. He’s her big brother—she idolizes him."

  "Damn. What’s her boyfriend’s name?"

  "Ben something-or-other, I forget his last name."

  "The other two weren’t named Ben."

  "Well, that’s good." Warren took out his cel phone. "Hi, Chris? It’s Warren. We just heard." He talked to her for a while, then hung up. "She’s absolutely inconsolable," he told Sophie. "Completely devastated. One good thing—her boyfriend wasn’t on duty. He got called down there, of course, but it was pretty much over by then." Warren took a breath. "Apparently, her brother got four terrified young skaters out of the building—but the smoke overtook him before he could get out."

  "Wow."

  "Wow is right. He was 31. Left a wife and three small children." Sophie just hissed at that. "I know. Listen, Pookie, you’re on the computer—get us some airline tickets to Denver."

  "Good idea."

  They landed a few days later, and found a hotel. They then rented a car and drove to Colorado Springs. Ellen had kept Betsy for them—she was rather young to be attending a wake and a funeral.

  They got into town just in time for the wake, and couldn’t believe the number of people lined up to get in. "Well, that makes sense," Sophie said. "Look at all the firefighters."

  They got in line to pay their respects. When they got to the front of the line, Christine saw them, and broke down. "I can’t believe you two came all the way out here!"

  "We had to," Warren said. "How are you holding up?"

  "God, it’s just awful. Will you guys stick around until after?"

  "Sure."

  They did, and Jack Garrison and Liz Cushman had also come out, and they stayed as well. "Jason just started class, so he couldn’t come, but he wanted me to," Liz told them.

  They all went out to a diner afterwards, where they met Christine’s boyfriend Ben.

  "David was the one that took me under his wing when I first joined the department," Ben told him. "He showed me the ropes." Ben grinned at Chris. "Then he introduced me to his little sister." The grin disappeared. "And now he’s gone. I can hardly believe it."

  "I don’t know what poor Janet’s going to do," Chris said. "She’s 30 years old, with three kids under the age of 8, and now she’s a widow. My little niece is one year old. She’ll never know her Daddy." Christine started to sob at that. Ben wrapped his arm around her.

  "I enjoy being a firefighter, but this is the downside," Ben said. "It could happen to any of us."

  "And that scares the shit out of me," Christine admitted.

  "I know it does," Ben agreed. "You think it doesn’t scare me? But think of it, Chris. You knew your brother better than I did. He got four young girls out of that burning building. He paid the price, but he got them out. He would’ve wanted it that way, and we both know it."

  "I know," Chris agreed. "Sometimes, that’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that."

  Ben turned to the rest of them with a slight smile. "I got a baby out, about a year ago. Cute little thing, only about six months old. The mother was ou
t in the yard when the house went up. The poor woman was hysterical that she couldn’t get back in and get her baby. I got her. She had some smoke inhalation—but she’s fine now, I’ve kept in contact. The thing is—when you’re going in to get someone out, you don’t think about yourself. You just don’t. Not until the person you’re trying to get is out and safe. Then you think of yourself. David just didn’t have time."

  "I understand that," Chris said, "but it’s not just yourself. That’s the problem. It’s the people outside waiting for you. Not me, so much—I had 24 wonderful years with my big brother and I’ll always cherish them. But Stephanie, my niece, had one lousy year with her Daddy. Because he wasn’t thinking about himself, he wasn’t thinking about her. And I know that’s horrible. Believe me, I know it. It’s very selfish."

  "Hey," Warren said, putting his hand on hers, "we’re all selfish at times. It’s only natural."

  They stayed until the funeral, two days later.

  Afterwards, Christine stopped them. "You guys are going to be here in three weeks, aren’t you? For the pro-am in Denver?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I’ll see you there. Yes, I’m skating in it. David would’ve wanted me to."

  When they got home, Warren and Sophia had an idea. "I think we need to skate something special in Denver," Warren told Sophia.

  "I think you’re right. Any idea?"

  Warren did have an idea. They had only a short time to work on it, but they pulled it off.

  Christine met them when they got into their hotel room in Denver. "I don’t know how to thank you guys for coming to the funeral. That was above and beyond."

  "We’re friends," Warren told her. "How are you holding up?"

  "Better. It hurts, and I’ll miss him forever, but it’s better. Poor Ben’s really shook up about it."

  "Really?"

  "He’s going to take classes to become an EMT. He can do that, the Fire Department runs the ambulances. He says he wants to save lives without putting himself in danger. It’s really spooked him. I told him to think about it, but he will, anyway—the EMT classes take a while. So, he can think about it while he’s taking the classes. And having EMT certification can’t hurt, even if he decides to stay a firefighter." Chris smiled a little bit. "And he asked me to move in with him."

 

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