Mexican Dancers Novels & Stories

"If it was a male, the males would dance and the females' would step back. That is the way of celebration." Deimos bends down to inform keeping his eyes on the dance. "Join us." Mia comes forward to me her palm held out for me to take. Surprised, I look up at Deimos. He nods eagerly with excitement in his eyes, he wishes for me to experience this. With a soft smile, I place my hand in Mia's as she guides me to the circle.

To think these girls are trained assassins. "Damn, I love what I am seeing" Diego mumbles watching as the girls surround Mia. On cue, a booming base of partition starts playing and they start moving to the beat. All the girls move in sync, not even a single wrong step from any of them. My heart skips when Mia, joins the erotic dance but unlike the others, she has a dancing partner. "Fuck, Rico. Mia, you promised" Diego complains and she chuckles, sensually gliding her hands all over my body. She's hot. Fuck she is making me so hot in front of all these people. Did they practice this?

I replied, getting annoyed. "Let's not be negative, girl. Let's go and start your bridal shower, I'm excited to see some abs. Ayii!" Ew! Lara is disgusting. The three of them are excited, they're also kinda pervy. Ugh, how can I escape this wedding? You're trapped, girl. Goodbye freedom, Goodbye Bebe Rond. Here we go again, stupid brain! The girls squealed loudly when the three cowboy dancers came out. They had huge bodies, like sumo wrestlers, but thankfully, they had nice abs.

It makes my blood boil quickly I stand up and with my raised head I continue my solo again m face is cold without any emotion. " Look your neck, use emotion, stop, stop, stop" She stopped the music with anger and began to criticize my movements with her raised hands in the air. I was looking at the huge wall made of a mirror, firstly to her then to myself. My feet almost burned. But it's the bread of dancers. And I understand that but today my pain is much stronger and I am talking not about my hurting feet. "Are you hearing what I say to you Maggie wake up!" She screamed again and then snapped one's fingers above my eyes.

"You understand, Gina?" She ignored his question. Instead, she asked, "You know what Casey and I've been up to?" The two women had decided to teach themselves different dances over the long months of isolation at the compound. Their favourite had been the tango; a beautiful, passionate and difficult dance. They had taken turns in the leading and following roles, learning all the steps, sometimes serious, sometimes erupting into hysterical fits of laughter. Though they probably should have realized they'd been discovered, they thought their activities were secret, their only audience a baby that couldn't tell on them yet.

One of the dancers dressed in white cracks a whip over the crouched figures just as a cymbal strikes, and several of those around us jump in their seats at the loud sound. The music remains in a low and dark key as we watch the dancers suffer as they live under the dancers dressed in white. The music resonates through my soul, making me lean forward in my seat as I watch several dancers fall under the crack of the whip, symbolized each time by the sharp sound of a cymbal.

“We'd better go dancing.” “No, sir, ranchers are not dancing.” She answered him with her face down; it could not be possible that a man, and even more so, someone twice her age, could awaken a feeling in her. It should be because of the liquor; however, she let herself drift like a boat in an ocean of tranquility. She danced to the Mexican sound that, as if by magic, dried her tears like the sun dried the rain and produced a beautiful rainbow on her face. Her smile radiated throughout the room.

"I will dance just don't do anything to them" He loosened his hand around me, getting down as he reclined back to his seat watching me as I stripped naked and changed into those ridiculous clothes. Locking eyes with him once more he nodded reassuring for me to begin, I had become an object of amusement for him as my hand held the poll, I began to dance just as I did with my cousin whenever I visited Mexico at my grandmother's house and she will take me to the club that she worked as a waitress. I was dancing with tears brimming down my cheeks which only made him turn off the music.

by Etta James. "I thought you said we were not doing a choreographed dance," I whispered as we swayed together. "This is not choreographed. This is just swaying to music in a way that looks vaguely like dancing." "Mrs. Martinez would say we should have practiced more." "Mrs. Martinez can cope." We danced, and gradually other couples joined us. Miguel and Diana. Sarah and her husband. Devon and Rachel. Richard and Catherine. Even Mrs. Martinez was dancing with the caterer, both of them laughing about something.

Their well-muscled bodies weaved and swayed in perfect harmony with the pulsating rhythm of drums and mystical music. With each movement, the dancers seemed to embody the essence of the lunar eclipse, symbolizing the unity of light and darkness. As the flames leaped higher, their shadows danced on the ground, blending seamlessly with the flickering torchlight. It was a mesmerizing spectacle as if the dancers were sensual beings embodying the eternal cycle.