As the year comes to an end, someone ensures that the blessings of the year don’t go forgotten.
Note: Special thanks to S.B., looking back for his inspiration for the first story, ‘A Mesmerry Christmas,’ and his encouragement with the ones that followed, “A Love Spell is in the Air, Memorials of Days in Dependence, All Hallow’s Eve, and Thanks for Giving in (Between the Holidays).
Trent found it hard to believe it was happening all over again. Another holiday, another private party, another enchanted experience loosely linked to whatever holiday they were celebrating, but always enhanced thanks to the dancing hostess Camille. This time seemed even lower-key than what he heard about her other exploits, just a quaint, somewhat deserted interstate hotel lounge, away from where most of the masses would be celebrating New Years, occupied mostly by the group he’d gotten so used to knowing. He tried to remind himself to challenge Auggie somewhere on the dance floor, but he figured trying it tonight would be a forgone conclusion.
Little signs indicated a new game from Camille was already in-progress; everyone had at least one glass of champagne before they were all slow-dancing to Auld Lang Syne playing on repeat, the bartender watching everyone seemed a little glassy-eyed, smiling happily at watching everyone else dance, and Camille had a look on her face, a distinct look that she had every holiday he’d seen her, the scheming smile of someone who already knew their plans would come to fruition. It seemed more innocent when they first met last Christmas.
It startled him to realize he wasn’t in Penny’s arms at that point, but Camille’s wearing that same smile he knew. She was dressed rather conservatively that night, just a simple evening gown like all the other ladies there. It was for the best since she was still recovering, free from the crutch but still taking it easy, much to everyone’s delight. To stand out like she always did though, hers was the only gown of golden sequins, and a sash draped over her shoulders, something about the old year written across it, he dared not look down too much lest he get lost in the flashy sequins surrounding it. He just smiled at her, and she smiled back.
“Hey there,” she greeted.
“Hey Camille,” Trent replied, adjusting himself so he wasn’t as close to her as he was earlier with Penny, still arm-in-arm, but a bit more diplomatic space between them. Camille didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Happy New Years to you.”
“To you too,” Trent searched her face for signs of what might be to come, finding that smile to be unyielding in everything except information.
“Ready to be married to my sister?”
“Yeah,” Trent unhesitatingly replied, “kind of crazy how this year has gone, like really fast somehow, and Penny’s been there every step of the way, but it feels like I’ve known her forever.”
“It’s a good sign,” the dancer smiled. “And yeah, crazy year. Big things happening, time flies, easy to forget how things end up changing. It’s almost confusing how…”
She was still talking as she raised their hands up, urging him to spin her. He did so realizing she was still talking about something, the year going by perhaps; hard to the words when those golden sequins lit up as she slowly spun a few times. It looked like champagne being spun in a tall glass. Couldn’t have been more than few times, but by the end of it the only flotsam he had for the conversation was about Penny; he heard her name mentioned, and Trent looked back up.
“What about Penny?”
“Oh, I kind of mentioned her indirectly. I asked you if you remembered that first time.”
The hairs on the back of Trent’s neck felt lightly brushed by a finger nail trailing up and down where his spine was, timed with the breath he didn’t know he took, and the words “first time.” Vague as the notion was, his unconscious knew what she meant by first time – the Christmas bachelor party, totally enamored by the dancing Christmas tree, somehow finding his new brother-in-law’s devotion to his sister more secure than ever, and finding how much he liked being on his knees for a woman. It certainly was that way for Penny, though they started with dinner and dancing on their own.
It was a little weird when she said her really close friend, the dancer who introduced them, talked about unconventional dancing habits, like the man being spun around instead of the woman. She somehow worked the conversation to making him spin, and spin he did. Penny constantly reminding him that it was ok, how safe he was, how curious they both were about it. Whatever she said made things easier to swallow, even induced the gentlest dizziness he’d ever felt. Penny was really in-tuned with his feelings once the actual spinning stopped and they waited for his internal spinning to stop too.
The world cleared to him being on his knees in-front of Penny in her apartment, leaning against her legs for support, a smile a little more than friendly beaming down at him. The part of him that said it was too fast to inhale some arousing scent from somewhere, and act on it without thinking. Something profoundly wise within told him to ignore the tact he had with every other romantic encounter and take his cues from Penny herself, who seemed really…inviting. He happily let go to her, from that first night, throughout the year. Fingers dancing on the back of his neck invigorated past memories and heated relations, subsequent dates, introducing her to his family, being an objective judge for her dance teachings from Camille, resisting the urge to go down on her one late summer night before pulling out the velvet box to propose, everything he loved about her.
Passing thoughts of her and breaks in the song playing distracted him long enough to realize that he had yet another dance partner, June, who laughed at how spacey he looked, asking if Camille or Penny did it. He settled on both, still thinking about Penny, still feeling the effect of fingers on the back of his neck, still half there with his dance partners as they continued to switch to Carlie, Auggie (making their ladies take quick photos on their phones to laugh at the “rivals”), then Teri, and then back to Penny whom he kissed deeply as soon as he was back in her arms again. He whispered in her ears whatever was on his mind, which happened to be lusty thoughts, which brought their bodies closer on the dance floor to practically grind against each other.
Penny checked her watch, wondering how rude it would be of them to slip away to their rooms to make their new years countdown more climatic.
June kept a close eye to everyone around her on the dance floor; it was a habit she’d picked up ever since Valentine’s day. She owed part of her perpetual smile to how she changed from uninterested wallflower to at the center of the festivities, She’d tried to keep her eye on Camille for as long as she could, seeing what she had up her sleeve, not out of mistrust, but to see if she could guess what was coming correctly. To this point, she never had.
She eyed Auggie from well before Valentine’s, never expecting to be alone with him after the fact, that close, that lost in a dance she thought she was incapable of, inspired by feelings from a deep-running well. The word impossible lost its relevancy thanks to Camille. She was sure she’d thanked Camille for everything she had done, but harbored mistrust for many months since knowing her. She felt like she there was some catch to all this good fortune, and the wait to find out the price for it was maddening. Most nights she contemplated calling Camille, asking her with the utmost sincerity, no matter how silly the question or the response would be.
“How am I so lucky?”
Like an involuntary muscle spasm, that was the question she asked Camille when the partners switched to the two of them to be arm-in-arm.
“You mean, what’s the catch to all this?” Camille asked back.
June nodded, preparing for any kind of answer she might give, wondering if she was preparing herself to commit espionage, rob a bank, perform some obscene or uncharacteristic thing for people to laugh at. Camille saw it all written over her face, the worry, the apprehension, the thought of a debt to be paid at year’s end; it almost made the Holidancer frown.
“As far as catches go,” Camille momentarily couldn’t resist ramping up the tension. “First, what do you think of the dress? Is it too much for the occasion?”
June looked down to notice her shiny dress made of sequins, and her fingers stroking the pieces and the lining of the sash, her nail polish of the same color, glittered into what looked like thousands of specs in motion. They flashed like microscopic versions of the dress, and reminded her of something she couldn’t place right away.
“Next catch, you have to try to remember your first time.”
A strange question accompanied by the strange notion of a finger trailing her vertebrae, and then strumming like the fingers of Camille’s other hand strummed her dress, playing a musical note with her monotone yet melodic voice speaking enthusiastically of fond memories of Valentines. Of course the mere mention of that day took her to whose arms she ended up in after the fact, thanks to Camille.
It was crazy, wild love with Auggie, like feverish. Her sex drive had never been ramped up to that degree, and she realized that she’d never got the guy she lusted for the most at any given time. And Auggie admitted right away he never met a woman who wanted him that much, and liked that much what she found. Neither of them expected it to go that way, to rush into such feelings for one another. They slowed things down as much as they could, openly admitting they were afraid of how fast things were moving. None of it stopped them from sometimes succumbing to spontaneous desires. Like the time she joined him on a trip back to Australia. She got to see the beach resort area he was from, the sights, enjoying all the hospitality there was to offer.
What she’d never forget was their beach exploits, remembering seeing it from a distance, mesmerized by what looked like white sands almost, sparkly like Camille’s New Years nail polish. The more those fingers waived, the more it reminded June of rolling around in that secluded sand, emptying out all the excitement she kept inside into him. She remembered straddling him, dancing on top of him with her torso and arms, rolling her stomach and more against his, pushing her hard nipples against his to make his even harder, playfully swatting his hands away from her breasts while playing with every one of his abs, listening to moans like she never thought a man could for a woman. It helped that it times when she really felt seductive, she still imagined Camille was right there with her, leading her to be the vixen she never knew she was inside.
Behind glassy eyes, her muscles loosened to be as fluid as her dance partners, all of whom noticed how lost in it she was. After Camille, Teri especially noticed, and helped her along with encouraging words.
“Visualize your next times.”
Teri seemed to say this several times while holding on to June firmly, intimately stroking the back of her neck while simultaneously keeping her distance from an ever-searching crotch.
The phrasing and finger strumming came in waves, like the ones that hit June and Auggie at the beach. She couldn’t wait to return to Australia; she wanted 90% of their next trip there to be just at that beach. She imagined her hunk building a small hut right there, just a place where they could fornicate indoors at night or out of the sun if they wanted to. Suspension of reality took her fantasies even further with seeing herself ride him like a surfboard on the waves to orgasm, and somehow having him carry her back to land after they were too tired to make love.
She let her eyes close as she danced, Teri all too willing to let her float off in her fantasy. It certainly didn’t stop her from dancing the slow ballroom dance everyone else was. The next time she opened her eyes, Auggie was in her arms. She felt his fingers stroking her neck, and she returned the favor immediately. No one was surprised to see the enthralled couple head back to their hotel rooms 10 minutes before midnight.
Camille got Carlie to ramble on about all the new things she was learning as a professional dancer, and all the different kinds of dancing she could do. The response wouldn’t have been had enthusiastic if anyone but Teri or Camille asked her about it. Camille especially received extra thought put into it being a mentor to her and Teri. She let herself talk about all the dances she’d studied from the likes of Celine and Camille, the venues they might or might not work, marveling at how the lights bouncing of the sequins reminded her of stage light. Camille occasionally got a word in edgewise, and for some reason, those words were meaningful. The only ones she seemed keen on paying attention to though weren’t necessarily tips or advice about dancing.
“You are a flurry of ideas; that’s a very good thing Carlie, but I hope you don’t forget where it all started. In fact, it would serve you best now to remember your…first time.”
Camille paused in her suggestiveness, putting it that way to differentiate between dancing in-general, and reacting to the light trance already covering her features. The back of her hairline was stroked horizontally at the same time she was complimented on her shorter haircut, and then the center line of her neck stroked downward, punctuating the last time she felt that kind of dance, where she wasn’t in the lead and seemed content to let any dance from that point play out with that exact dynamic.
Just like in the early days of Camille’s tutelage, Carlie found herself figuratively spinning again. Moreso than from Camille, Carlie’s memories of the summer of that year took the lead, acting on the insistence of old muscle memory, her body moving to her first time her love of dance became deeper on the most simplest of levels. Simply twirling, being told not only to make circles just for the sake of practice, but to feel them, anchored by a caring voice the whole way. She got the exact same treatment her best friend Teri got, which was rare since Teri was always the one to rave about in town. It made her feel good in the twirling, like she was just as talented, just as worthy. The twirling became a whirlwind of good feelings, thoughts of loving dance, loving her new teacher, and loving her best friend more than ever, blended into happy vertigo.
Compared to Camille’s first intoxicating instruction, Carlie only felt tipsy, something she’d blame more on the champagne if it was to be a bad thing. Her head danced in circles as her dreams spun into seeing her in a fearless dancing role, just like Camille would concoct. Interpretive dance, a risqué dramatization of a love that shouldn’t have been, but was anyway, staring her and Teri.
Her mind spun faster by the time Teri was back in her arms from since they started. She loved the look of the black, black like Carlie’s hair, against Teri creamy skin, really offsetting her blonde hair well. She tugged at the sash with something about “new” and “year” written on it, while Teri diverted her hands, telling her to “visualize your next times.”
The repeated phrase took its toll on Teri’s girlfriend until she could repeat it no more because Carlie found a more intimate use of her lips. She was half in a dream, half in reality, half on the new years dance floor, half on that interpretive dance stage. “The heart wants what the heart wants,” was the theme of it, and her heart took to it with all she was.
On the other end of the stage, Teri looked forlorn, looking away while stealing furtive glances in Carlie’s direction. She held her heart thinking about the girl that twirled freely, the dark-haired beauty she wanted but couldn’t have. Carlie twirled toward Teri, everything about her telling the blonde friend it was ok to let go, to release yourself to your hearts desire. Teri did a little twirl of her own, trying to feel it, but looking away toward a horizon that represented society, standards, everything telling her what she was expected to have in life, not what she really wanted. Teri twirled in both directions, feeling herself torn between two forces competing for ownership of her soul. It was a sad sight seeing Teri turn moreso toward that horizon, the world winning over herself.
Carlie became the third-party contestant that stole victory away from the world, and from Teri, grasping the blonde’s soul in her arms like the rest of her body, spinning gently at first to ease her into the freedom of love. Every other twirl, Teri received a kiss to the face. Her nose, her forehead, both cheeks, the faintest of kisses to each ear, more contact happening between Teri’s ears and Carlie’s whispers.
“Let go to me, embrace yourself.”
“You’re mine, as you will it.”
“Give your heart to me; it’s only fair as you have mine.”
Carlie kissed everywhere but her lips, leaving Teri to initiate that last vestige of surrender. Tears fell free and their hearts swelled once she gave in. The only reason she didn’t sob into the kiss was their tight grips onto their bodies, hips grinding together as one.
Stray tears surrounding Teri and Carlie fell, watching them being reminded of the fact that they were together, that the end of the year had given them their heart’s desire, watching a mostly conscious Teri fall into a trance after deepening the trance Camille started. In the middle of Carlie’s fantasy come to life, Teri sensed Camille nearby. One particular tear fell, to express thanks to their teacher for everything again, and for the future neither thought they’d be allowed to have. It took time to percolate, but the wetness on their cheeks and beneath their dresses, meant both nearly ran to their rooms, minutes after all the other couples had left, minutes before it officially became the new year.
Rushing to the elevator, Teri and Carlie looked at each other, laughing, having one more small dance to themselves waiting for the elevator to arrive. When it finally did, seeing it was empty, Carlie pushed Teri to the back wall, frenching her, catching her lover totally off-guard. A spinning sensation on her temples got her to slow down, and she moaned as she found herself savoring the kiss. Their room was only a few floors up, but their heads spun in circles the whole way up, heads rotated in circles the pair hadn’t felt since the Thanksgiving party.
Camille grinned sappily watching her charges try to maintain locked lips and dueling tongues as she rotated both their heads together. She gave them the proper suggestions and sent them on their way once they reached the right floor.
Just like she’d told all her well-programmed submissives to do that night, Camille exited the elevator reminiscing everything she’d accomplished that year, every party, every dance technique, every sinfully delicious deed that seemed to plant seeds and grow into positively saintful deeds. Watching the youngest couple stumble to their rooms, fearing she might have to run after them to keep them from falling, ensuring she’d be falling herself ironically. Leaning against their door, a soft thud told the older dancer that they at least landed on the bed. From there, both of them knew what to do in a few minutes. All her subjects did. Even long-distance ones as she checked her phone to see a text from Celine and Desmond, telling her they obeyed as well, sharing a night of remembrance and a future of more or better than before.
She sashayed to her room at the end of the hall, already smiling at what she knew was waiting for her.
Keith felt extremely drowsy that night, couldn’t explain why, and felt embarrassed of bowing out on what was sure to be a great time, even greater because he wasn’t in on whatever Camille was planning; he knew she could be afflicted with broken limbs and that wouldn’t stop Camille from making sure a show would go on; next to her dance and body and personality, that was the sexiest thing about her.
Sleep set in hard and took its toll to where he really had to excuse himself, not telling anyone how long he’d be gone. He whispered to Camille what the issue was; she offered to walk him to their room, or ask someone to help him, but he asked her to not worry about it at all. Truthfully he felt like crawling to the elevator and wouldn’t have minded at all if he collapsed to the floor and slept wherever he landed. Miraculously he made it to the room, but once he crossed the threshold, it felt like sleep was a mile behind him, and he was deep in a dream, energy in his limbs, a vague notion of him not being alone.
The more he focused on the chair in the corner of the room, the more he saw Camille dressed in her Valentine’s sweater, a red rose twisting between her finger tips, giving him a seductive, expectant look. She pursed her lips, pleased at the strip tease he started with his tux, slipping off his black jacket, tossing it vaguely in her direction. He subtly bumped his crotch her way every time a button came undone. Midriff was teased with his undershirt inching higher and higher, sometimes lower to see what reaction it garnered. He smiled at her impatient stare, which made him rip the fabric off his body, proudly thrusting his chest her way. He walked with a confident strut towards the chair, taking his sweet time with his belt, until he whipped it out of the pockets and threw it to the ground. His pants down at his ankles, he attempted to moonwalk his way back to the bathroom, only really succeeding in not tripping over.
The additional sweet time he took wasn’t as sweet as how he looked to her emerging back into the main room. Only his feet, chest, and above his nose was exposed, the rest was covered only in veils, detachable veils. The fabric around his crotch was made to be the longest as it stuck out, bobbing with his dance. He moaned absently if it happened to collide with something or knock it down, but his focus never deviated from his target in the chair. Keith caressed his arms with Camille’s level of grace, occasionally detaching one of them to rub across his chest, teasing his own nipples before throwing it at her chair. She always got an eyeful between the veil falling toward her and the sultry dip he made to follow it and divert attention back towards him.
The moment he felt she was getting bored or losing interest, made his way to the chair, kneeling and humping it, grabbing the rose out of her grasp with his mouth, playing keep away as he saw her stand up and reach for it. Taunting her was fun until she disappeared and reappeared from behind him, back in her Hallows Eve costume, looking like the sexier, classier version of a seducer. Camille as a gypsy queen got his knees to shake and mouth to hang open. The rose was taken from his hands easily and pressed to his forehead, trailing down to his mouth, petals tracing his lips like lip balm, shocking him as she played at sticking it in his mouth.
Eyes narrowed at her laughing at him, hands on her hips, looking like she could wonder if he could be an equal. Assertive steps toward her answered the challenge, but she evaded his grasp and slipped past him, taking a piece of veil with her. She bend and wiggled her ass to him, prompting him to grab it. His thighs felt a rush of air as the veils covering them were stolen away. She continued dancing out of his grasp, evading as quickly as provoked snakes strike, always brushing his skin the more he did so, always steeling away a veil, until he was nearly naked.
Assertiveness turned aggressive as he finally grabbed her arms and tackled her down to the bed. She went down unresistingly in his arms smiling up at him as he was clueless what to do with her. She didn’t have that problem as her hands raised between them, taking the last veil he used as underwear, waving it in-front of him like a white flag, then pressing it to his face and pushing him onto his back on the bed.
He breathed heavily, somewhat winded by every advantage she taken over him. He closed his eyes on the bed and waited to see what she’d do next.
A finger snapped at his face, and he opened his eyes up to the bright sight of a golden sequin goddess standing above him. His erection was filled to capacity, her domineering look and presence pressed his body against the bed, the sequins mesmerized him in the patterns of ones that reflected light at any given movement or shimmy made.
She felt so much more than a dream. Resting her hands on his knees, the skin she touched seared, burning beneath his flesh, thoughts outside of Camille highly flammable, turned to ashes.
“My, my, my boy. Aren’t we extra sexy and swept off your feet tonight?”
“How did you get this way, Magic Keith?”
“Visual..izing…my next times…”
Camille moaned and made him moan as she slid her fingers barely an inch toward his manhood.
“I’d never say this to the others, though I’m not sure I’d have to, but you are my absolute favorite. I didn’t need anyone else, even Teri, to help reinforce my power over you. You’d do it all to yourself for me.”
Keith moaned in frustration as his Mistress moved away from him to retrieve the phones strewn around the room, all recording everything that happened before he arrived. She scrolled through video footage from the phone placed on the chair. Keith’s imagined exploits gave her a good laugh, and made Camille realize her juices were flowing down her leg, unimpeded by the panties she discarded when she entered their room.
“My string-less puppet continues to amaze.”
She looked at her watch, 11:57, nearly right on time.
“Time to finish off this new year with a bang. You almost look ready Keith. How do I look?”
Posing in front of the bed, hands stroking it with the overhead light, the hem rising, making his brain hot. Lust and wonder overtook him quickly, as evident by his whining.
Straddling him, she inserted herself into something hotter than herself, happy to feel its found home.
The friction of the climax built, and built and built. Faster and faster, harder and harder. At some point, one out of each of the couples knew to start counting down.
“Ten,” Camille panted.
“Nine,” Carlie didn’t know she said aloud.
“Eight,” Auggie recited along with the woman riding him.
“Seven,” Trent mouthed against Penny’s slit.
“Six,” Desmond felt fingers stroking his neck as he stroked back.
“Five,” Teri singsonged to her hypnotize girlfriend.
“F-f-four,” June picked up the coital pace.
“Three,” Penny screamed.
“Two,” Keith looked up to his Mistress as she lowered herself to whisper into his ear.
Ten joyous, synchronized screams literally rang in the new year.
“Hell of a year,” Keith complimented Camille, nuzzling her neck while pulling the sheets to cover their naked bodies.
“You did a fantastic job.”
“Takes two to tango though,” Camille reminded him.
“Or ten if you’re an overachiever,” they giggled.
“Early wedding presents, long-reaching reasons to stay that way.”
“Your generosity really hits home, and that wild vacation area south of home too,” they giggled.
“So…what’s the new year looking like?”
“Probably slower than last. Still recovering, still teaching the girls, but still planning things for myself.”
“You had me worried for a second there.”
“Speaking of, at least one big change ahead.”
Before she could say it, something caught in her throat. Camille threw the covers off her side and nearly tumbled to the bathroom, vomiting in the toilet.
Keith looked at her from the bed confused, then rose to help her. Confusion and shock were his thoughts, until he remembered how much sex they’d had all year, a banner year for sex. Wide eyes never shrunk as he helped her steady herself at the toilet.
When she could finally look at those eyes, she just nodded with a smile.
“How…how long have you known?”
“Not along. Maybe around the time I got Penny to tell me about that small jewelry box you stashed over at her place.”
She didn’t think his eyes could get any wider, but he made it happen.
“How did she know? I never told her.”
“You didn’t it. She found it, and then found it hard to keep that kind of secret from me.”
“She admitted or you made her?”
“With all the happiness going around, who’s to know?”
Keith put that fun argument aside and got on his knees next to Camille.
“I know this isn’t how you envisioned…any of this. And I know I’m not at a great place for big changes like this, but I am working toward being what I should be, what I need to be for you, for all of us. And I promise, whether or not you say yes now, I’ll still propose to you better later on – you deserve way more than that, but at least that.”
Camille never thought there’d be a drawback to knowing Keith so intimately, but it’s sad that she’d thought of this speech he would give word-for-word; took a little of the wind out of the sails of how this girl imagined she’d be proposed to – being surprised in some way. It wasn’t the first, or even the worst she’d gotten, but she did get it from the only man she’d considered saying ‘yes’ to.
“I’d kiss you right now, but the mouthwash is prob-”
His lips stopped any other mention of the mouthwash she needed. That was surprise enough for Camille.
The year ahead already looked to be one the Holidancer couldn’t wait to experience.