Teaching Carol, Ch.10

That weekend there was a salsa band playing in the town square late one afternoon. Carol and I hadn’t planned to meet but I was passing by and had stopped to listen for a moment when I spotted her. She was standing near the front of the crowd that formed a semi-circle around the flatbed truck where the band was playing. Within the semi-circle a lot of people were dancing enthusiastically and I could see Carol was watching them. She was wearing sandals, a pair of baggy red shorts that came almost to her knees, a white t-shirt, and an oversized man’s long-sleeved shirt in pink, worn unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows. I walked up behind her and without speaking or stopping propelled her out into the throng of dancers. She turned around immediately and smiled as she recognized me. We put our arms around each other’s waists and began dancing together.

One thing that I knew made Carol uncomfortable was public behavior on my part that gave any hint of the nature of our sexual relationship—she loved being humiliated but didn’t want anyone else to know because it would be…humiliating. Go figure. So of course I took any opportunity I could find to do things to her in public, such as the incident at the bus stop shelter a few days back, because first it embarrassed her, then it angered her…and then it aroused her.

As we danced I noticed that her shirttail hung down nearly to her thighs, concealing my hands, which were still around her waist. Holding her close with my left arm as we continued to dance, I slipped my right hand down inside the back of her shorts and panties and squeezed her right buttock. She stopped dead still and said “Jonathan!” out loud, almost yelling it in her shock. Fortunately the band was playing extremely loudly and anyone who heard her must have thought she was simply calling to someone. I immediately removed my hand from her shorts and put my arm back around her waist as I urged her to continue dancing. After a moment she did, looking up to me and hissing, “Cut it out, Jonathan! Not here!”

I gave her an innocent look and said, “What, you mean this?” as I began insinuating my fingers under the elastic waistband of her shorts again. She quickly pushed my arm away from her, her expression becoming thunderous.

“Stop it!” she whispered harshly, her eyes boring into mine.

I held her gaze and grinned as we continued to dance. “Why? Are you afraid someone will find out that you’re…” I leaned forward and down until my nose was nearly touching hers. “…a nasty little girl?”

Her face, already red with anger, suddenly flushed more deeply and she looked down and muttered, “Yes…”

I raised my hand, still hidden under the back of her shirt, and gave her a smart slap on the behind. Her gaze jerked up to mine.

“Hey!” She tried to pull away but I held her to me with my left arm and continued to move her around to the music as if we were dancing. “That’s for being a nasty little girl.” Before she could reply I gave her another open-handed swat on the behind, harder this time.

“OW! Jonathan, what’re you…stop it!” It was perfect—she couldn’t tell that the stinging blows she was receiving were completely hidden from the dancers around us. She must have thought everyone was watching me spank her while we danced. Her lips were compressed with anger and when she spoke it was through clenched teeth: “I said, not here!”

I said, “All right then, come on,” and, grabbing her by the arm led her out of the crowd of dancers and onto the sidewalk behind the flatbed truck. She struggled to free herself from my grip as I dragged her along—but not hard enough to draw attention to herself.

From the sidewalk I led her into the network of alleys between and behind the buildings there. I didn’t take her far—only taking a couple of turns—and we wound up near the end of a blind alley that was almost as close to where the band was as we had been before—except now there were brick buildings all around us.