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Daddy punishes Angel for her disobedience.

I love dancing, so I was surprised just how much I'd been missing out on by not learning the older style dances earlier. I found jiving or rock and rolling was a fantastic way of cutting lose and really letting go on the dance floor. Between the lessons and the additional practice we did at home by the night of the ball we were letting rip at the fastest tempos we could find.

But what really rocked my socks compared to my past experiences were the really traditional ballroom styles; and especially the waltz. I wondered how this sort of dancing was possibly allowed back in the 19th century when I understood it first started and dancing it with Greg was always enough to get me heated up somewhat.

I don't suppose many young people have ever really danced like this; I certainly hadn't before. It's bad enough (or should I say fun enough) that you dance in fully body contact with your partner; my right nipple firmly pushed into his chest somewhere near his left one and stomachs touching. But more than that his right leg spent all of its time between mine; generally brushing on my crutch with every step. To compound matters, you dance with a rise and fall motion; so as you count 1,2,3 you actually dip down a little bit on the counts of 1 and 2 and then rise up on to your toes on the count of three.

I suppose as we were learning I couldn't help but notice this meant his thigh effectively gave me a clit massage with every step and a harder one with every third step; especially if my rise wasn't perfectly timed with his. At first it was only a fairly light contact because when you start out learning you tend to stand just a little apart so you don't stand on each other's toes if you mis-step. Then as you get more confident you come a little closer and the contact gets more constant. Still the lessons tend to be fairly stop start and often the clothes you're wearing to the practice classes don't convey all that well the sensation of the contact. Even so I spent most lessons going through different stages of arousal depending on how much time we spent practicing the waltz.

Then comes the night of the ball itself. We were at a table with Kate and Jenna and their dates for the night and a couple of mutual friends of Greg and Kate. Greg's parents were at another table as were his aunt and uncle.

I suppose I was already feeling pretty warm in the groin just from how hot Greg looked in his dinner suit and the romance of dancing in close contact with him as he swept me around the floor. Then came on a sequence of waltz numbers; slow at first and then gradually building to a faster tempo.

I was prepared for - even looking forward to - Greg's thigh brushing against my crutch and the arousal that would bring. What I wasn't really prepared for was the fact the combination of my silk G-string and satin dress - and I'm sure just the presence that Greg had in his dinner suit and even the softer feel of its material against my dress - would magnify the effect the way it did.

And so as we waltzed around the floor, rising and falling to the three beat of the music his thigh went brush, brush, brush/ brush, brush, brush/ brush, brush, brush/ brush, brush, brush - always with just that little bit more pressure on the rise on the third beat and that little bit more enjoyment it brought.

At first it just caused my clit to be massaged against the lips that enveloped them, but as it swelled and my G-string camel toed between those lips, the contact became more direct; more pleasurable. Still, at first I just thought of it as cheeky fun; the sort of 'playing' Greg and I had talked about that wasn't intended to lead anywhere. Why not enjoy the moment?

I was interested in whether it was having the same effect on Greg.

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