Slow Dancing Novels & Stories

Avila wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as she slid down the stripper pole for the fifth time that night. It was exhausting! The club was packed, and she could feel the eyes of the customers on her as she danced to the beat of the music. She tried to ignore the lewd comments and catcalls, focusing instead on the money that was being thrown at her feet. It was the only thing that made the job bearable and worth it. It was the only thing still pushing her to grind and rock her body on the tall pole - the money.

It is clear just from looking at him, even in his suit, you can see that. His arm extends, his hand facing up. Anais gently places hers in his hand and walks to the dance floor, hoping the next song is not too slow or too fast. She is not the best dancer, which could be why she is never chosen. Getting to the dance floor, she stands, her awkwardness radiating from her as Bob Marley’s, Turn your lights down low starts.

We found ourselves alone on the dance floor, the lights still dimmed and the music playing softly in the background. We look into each other's eyes, our bodies close together, our hearts beating in time. They moved as one, our bodies entwined. The salsa had given way to a more intimate style of dance, with partners closer together, moving slowly and sensually. The lights had been dimmed, and the music had slowed down. The room was filled with couples, each lost in their own world, connected through the music and their movement. The other partners move in unison, their bodies brushing against each other as they glide across the floor.

Then, the band started to play languid music. Alpha Zackery looked at me and said, "Do you recognize this music? Danse au clair de lune? Moonlight Dance?" I shook my head. "We always begin each Grand Ball with this song. It has got a slow and steady rhythm and it's perfect for four-legged animals trying to dance upright. You know, so they don't step on each other or others' toes." Alpha Zackery said with amusement. I chuckled. "I'll take the lead and you can follow me. I promise it's way easier than a sword dance." He grinned at me and said.

Immediately they got to the dance floor, the music on the stereo changed from a rowdy La Bamba to a slow salsa. Males and Females broke up from the circle into a pair of twos. "Can you dance the salsa?" The bare-chested, hot-looking guy asked. "I don't know how to dance any dance," she said shyly. Honey-colored eyes winked at her "Anyone can dance. Especially someone so beautiful as you," he said taking her hands "just follow my lead, beautiful." Unsure of what to do, she let him hold her hands and lead her. They began to move with slow steps.

“We are going to take it slow. It's just a dance. Relax and enjoy it.” His words had a certain charm that seem to calm my nerves. Inhaling a deep breath, I stepped closer bravely and placed my trembling hands on his shoulders. My lips curving into awkward smile, I broke off my introvert personality. “Let's do it then.” We slow danced to the music, our movement sync. We matched our steps swaying our hips rhythmically holding knot each other. Neither of us seemed to be able to take their eyes off the other. He pulled me in closer to him, my left hand wrapped behind my back. We continued until the music began to slowly fade.

She glanced from Kylie to him, clearly trying—and failing—to understand where this was going. He tilted his head slightly, eyes warm. “Wanna be my dance partner?” Before she could answer, the music swelled around them. Slow. Deep. Steady, like a heartbeat. He placed one hand on her waist, careful but firm. Kylie rested her hand on his shoulder, her other still in his. They began to move, step by step, following the rhythm. It was simple. No spins. No show. Just slow movements, bodies swaying together. The tight dress forced her to stay close, her steps small. His hand guided her gently, like he already knew where she would move next.