Sweat gleams on my body, and you are suddenly aware of the urgent beat of your heart. I throw the tattered shirt into a corner and move into you again... kissing your upturned lips and exploring your body with light, feathery touches."What are you doing?" you breathe, but the words seem sacriligeous in this chapel of our lust, and I answer your question only with a small, cryptic smile. Silently, I pull roughly at the neckline of your white top, tearing the thin fabric free of your glistening. All of the other adults were engaged in conversations or looking the other way. I breathed in slowly, savoring the flowery perfume still hanging in the air, and then reached in my pocket to adjust my now quite hard manhood. The dance kicked into gear pretty quickly and while there a little of the usual middle-school shyness, pretty soon, most all the kids were on the floor, at least swaying and talking. A number of the teachers unfortunately always seem to enjoy being the dancing police. They. More

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