Taxi to Paris

by Ruth Gogoll

  "No," I contradicted.

  "Yes," she said firmly. Then she offered the poor woman who'd been waiting so long for her an enchanting smile and said something to her. The woman went with her to the dance floor, pleased.

  I observed her. I should've known already, but when I watched her now, I was completely bowled over. She danced outstandingly well. Since she was so tall, I would've thought that she would lead. She didn't, though. She followed her dance partner so well that the height difference was barely even noticeable. I asked myself how she did that. They looked like they were the same height.

  Her movements were more graceful than ever. She must not have any more pain at all. When the dance ended, her partner wanted to talk her into another. At least that's how it looked. But she declined. Nevertheless, she didn't return to the table alone; instead, the woman who'd taken her out brought her back to me. That was the feeling I had, and it brought my indignation back to the surface.

  "That's unbelievable!" I scolded after the woman left.

  "She couldn't do otherwise," she explained, grinning conspicuously.

  "Yeah, yeah, because that's the custom here," I snarled angrily.

  "That too." She winked mischievously at me. "But I also told her you don't like to be crossed." Now she laughed out loud. "And what you'd do if she did."

  "You...!" I really didn't know what to do with her. This could turn into an interesting evening!

  "Come on," she requested, when the music started again. It was a slow song.

  "I told you, I can't dance." I could see several women looking her direction already. She would have no shortage of dance partners. "There are enough women here who would just love to ask you to dance with them."

  "I'm not particularly interested in that at the moment," she decided, refusing to indulge me. "I want to dance with you."

  "But that won't get you anywhere," I argued with my most sensible voice. "Why do you want to spoil your fun? You're such an incredible dancer."

  "Then you can try it for yourself." She tried to talk me into it gently. "I'll show you how it goes."

  I raised my hands in defense. "I can't take a lead! I tried once and failed terribly."

  "Then you can lead." She stood next to me and put her hands on my shoulders.

  Just the touch by itself softened me, but I still didn't want to give in. "I -".

  "Come," she ordered me with such a commanding tone of voice that my defenses collapsed. I stood up and followed her blindly.

  On the dance floor, I felt completely lost. She took one of my arms and put it around her waist, then raised the other to the height of her shoulders. Then she put her free hand on my shoulder. This looked all right as a dance position, but what was I supposed to do with it now?

  She simply began to move. She went backwards, and I had to follow her. It looked like I was leading her, but that wasn't anything close to the truth. During the first few steps, I stumbled a little, but then I realized that she was moving in just such a way as to make things easiest for me. I tried a step in the other direction. She was there right away, as if she had expected it ahead of time.

  I listened to the music. With such a slow song, even I could figure out what would come next. Slowly, I got braver. She actually let me lead, even though she could do it a thousand times better. She stood, supple and excited, in my arms. She leaned into me. I felt her whole body against mine. I began to feel warmer than the slow dancing itself could account for. When the dance came to an end, I stepped away quickly.

  "Didn't I tell you?" she triumphed, beaming.

  The heat let up a little. "Yes," I remarked, still astonished. "It really worked."

  The next song began. This time, I led from the beginning. She fit me so well that I felt as if I'd never done anything in my life but danced with her. Even though I couldn't dance at all. However, I could tell that I wasn't going to make it through another dance with her. My whole body was one singular desire. Because of that, I stood firm when she wanted to dance some more.

  I pretended to be worn out. "I can't," I claimed. "I'm not used to this."

  When it became clear that I wasn't going to dance with her anymore, my replacements appeared everywhere. They practically fought over her. I turned her over to the next woman and went back to the table.

  Now she danced to rock-'n'-roll. She was boisterous and wild. Several of the women on the dance floor clapped to the rhythm. That song was hardly over when the next one began. Did she have the stamina for this yet? How long would she last? But she looked unbelievably fit. As if her body hadn't experienced the past two weeks at all.

  She was going to find out now. I enjoyed seeing her like this and tried not to worry. The women were enchanted by her. There was no break. To rest, there was a waltz. This time, she led. She swept across the dance floor with her partner as if she weren't even touching the ground. Now, she seemed as tall as she actually was.

  Afterwards, she excused herself from amidst her admirers and came back to the table. She was a little warm, but that made her even more desirable. From a distance, I'd been able to control my arousal, but when she got this close, my desire flared up with unstoppable strength.

  She sat down next to me. Now that too! "In a minute, I'm going to dance with you again," she predicted, overflowing with energy.

  "Leave me here," I begged her. "I'd much rather watch you. That's a bigger treat for me." She was conflicted for a moment, but then her desire to fulfill my wishes kicked in.

  "All right, then," she said. She leaned over and put her arms around me. She snuggled a little. I tried to ignore the growing heat between my legs and throughout the rest of my body. She stopped again. I took a deep breath, which I hoped she wouldn't notice. It didn't take long before someone came and asked her to dance again. I didn't resist the ritual this time. I just said yes.

  While I watched her, I didn't notice at all how the time flew by. Now and then, she talked me into a waltz, and I felt as though I were being swept across the floor exactly like the other woman had looked. Why had I always had trouble taking a lead before? With her, it was pure pleasure and completely self-explanatory.

  I was constantly afraid that she was going to overdo it, so I kept trying to convince her to take little breaks. I never got her to sit out more than one song in a row, though. She became restless right away. Then I let her go again. The other women kept giving me looks that indicated without a doubt that they considered me to be a spoilsport.

  Eventually, I started to get tired. My eyes kept closing, even though her movements on the dance floor made me want to keep them open. She came to the table. "The closing tango," she stated regretfully. She smiled invitingly. "You have to dance this one with me."

  "I'm so tired!" I protested lamely.

  She just pulled me up. "No excuses. This is the last dance. You can't refuse me this one."

  I'd never danced a tango before, not even in play. But with her, it was again as if I'd never done anything else.

  When she bent me back almost to the floor and looked down at me with seductively parted lips, I understood why the tango was such an erotic dance. I wanted her. Here. Now. Immediately. And I couldn't have her.

  She stood me up again and laughed. "Too bad," she said sadly. "We have to go now."

  That would've sounded like a nice idea if it hadn't been for my promise and the cause of her numbness.

  The fluorescent lights finally drove us out of the bar. When we reached the door, I realized that it was already dawn. The Parisian streets lay under a grey veil, and a handful of retiring night owls met with the early risers who were already on their way to work. The street sweeping trucks from the sanitation department were spraying Paris with water, washing away the dirt of the city. We had to jump over a few small rivers flowing down the gutters as we made our way to the taxi stand. She jumped excitedly from one puddle to the next, and pulled me with her. I could barely keep up. She squealed like a child when she stepped in the water, and kissed me in betw
een on the mouth. She was doing well.

  I wasn't so well. I was really tired. That would help when we got back to the apartment. She was still rather wound up. She didn't seem to know the meaning of sleepiness. Though I wanted to go straight to my bedroom when we got back to the apartment, I didn't make it.

  "Please dance with me one more time." Her eyelashes batted at me. How could I resist that? She led me into the large parlor. We'd never really used it since I'd been there, but the parquetry floor was of course perfectly suited for dancing.

  "But only a waltz or something," I qualified. "I'm really too tired for anything faster."

  "No problem." She put on a CD. The sound of a waltz filled the room. She went to the door. "I'll be right back."

  I acknowledged her weakly with my hand. I sat in one of the Louis XV chairs and stretched out my legs. When she came back, I would tell her I was going to bed. I was really dog-tired. It took awhile before she returned. I was just about to give up and go to bed. If only I hadn't promised her the dance!

  I heard a rustling sound, and she stood in the doorway. In an evening gown!

  No scene from a film could have been more breathtaking. And certainly nowhere in the world an actress who knew how to wear an evening gown as perfectly as she. I hoped I wasn't staring at her with an open mouth. I certainly couldn't have moved at that moment.

  What an idea, to bring out her evening gown now! She came over to me gracefully. Her bare shoulders were perfect. Her walk was seduction itself.

  I had to run to bed before the fire that had been building in me all evening burst out. If I broke my promise to her, I'd never be able to look myself in the eye again. Was that possible - a world without mirrors?

  My thoughts were all jumbled together in one big heap. The eroticism of the dance, my exhaustion, and now seeing her in this dress that seemed to have been made for seduction... I stood up quickly, before she had quite reached me. It was a good thing that the room was so large.

  She stood still and smiled. "Do you like it?"

  I had to tear my eyes from her shoulders and her low-cut neckline. I wondered at the fact that dresses like this were legal to wear in public. It seemed to me that many less-harmful things were forbidden.

  I smiled at her. "You've knocked me unconscious with this dress. I have to gather my wits again. You look simply...," I couldn't imagine a word that would convey the overwhelming impression she made on me, "fantastic."

  "Thank you." She accepted the compliment in her usual polite manner. "Then it was worth it for me to change clothes."

  "It was." I was still having trouble with my grasp of language.

  She came closer. "Would it bother you to lead? In this dress..."

  I understood. It just didn't fit. She wanted to savor the feeling. I made a joke to hide my insecurity. "If you don't mind running into the furniture."

  She laughed her satiny laugh. "I trust you." The next waltz began. This time, she did nothing. She left everything to me. I took her in my arms and had to take a deep breath. No more barriers between us! I wasn't used to the dress. I began to dance with her, and as always, she followed perfectly. The dress swung around her and emphasized her movements. My mind crumbled. I couldn't dance with her like this anymore! It could only lead to one thing. But I couldn't let go of her, either. One dance - just one dance! I swung her around, and she followed willingly. I really did lead her right by the furniture, despite the size of the room. Now I understood why the ballrooms in old mansions were so enormous. With these dresses, that was the absolute minimum.

  I enjoyed it more and more. The silk was thin, although it rustled so much. I felt her thigh clearly against mine. It was an exciting feeling, just like she'd said. I had always thought that dresses like this were, except for the plunging necklines, quite conservative. I could no longer claim that. On the contrary, they offered just the right combination of hidden nakedness, of secretive borders between cloth and skin, indirect and for that reason doubly erotic.

  I couldn't stop when the music changed. I swept into it with her - I was fully aware that this was more her decision than mine - and wished that I'd never have to let go of her. Except for one reason: to help her out of the dress. The closeness of her body and the way we moved together as we danced increased my arousal even more. If I didn't stop now, I was going to carry her off to bed soon, with or without the dress!

  The waltz ended, and I spun her around where we stood. She leapt into the air in enthusiasm. I caught her, breathing heavily, and then let go of her when her feet were solidly back on the ground.

  She gasped a bit for air herself, then looked at me, beaming with joy. "What was it you said: you can't dance?"

  I demurred. "You know very well that you did most of the work. That's why it was so easy for me."

  She laughed freely. "Yes, sometimes it was a little difficult for me to follow you. You make that little half-step with which I'm not familiar."

  "You see." I let out a humble sigh. "And I didn't even notice that."

  She looked me right in the eyes. "I enjoy letting you lead me." Oh, boy! There was something lurking in there! Her eyes glittered seductively.

  "I won't do it," I tried to convince myself.

  She acted as though she hadn't understood me. "What won't you do?"

  "I won't sleep with you as long as you don't get anything from it." If she really had to hear it again!

  "Who told you it's like that?" She bent over and kissed me. Passionately. Aroused.

  But I wasn't sure. She'd betrayed herself once before. She never made the same mistake twice. Certainly not in her job.

  She pulled back a little and looked at me. She was breathing heavily. The dress emphasized that even more. I could see how her breasts rose and fell.

  I rested my hands on her bare shoulders. "Please," I begged her. "Don't take revenge on me for this evening. Not like this."

  She looked at me without comprehension. Then she understood. "Is that what you think?" She didn't seem annoyed.

  "I don't know." I stopped, uncertain, and hesitated. "I only know that I couldn't take it if you acted something out for me."

  "And if that's not what I'm doing?" She ran her lips gently over my cheek.

  "That's what I'm not sure about," I replied honestly, although her touch was sending lightning through my whole body. "You come up with the strangest ideas when you want to thank me for something."

  Now she stopped. She laughed softly. "Strange?"

  "Well, yeah." She knew exactly what I meant. I looked at her helplessly. "I don't want you to do it for me. Please..."

  She said nothing. She looked at my face. I couldn't read her expression. Slowly, she bent forward. Her lips came closer and closer. She kissed me very lovingly. Her tongue entered my mouth tenderly. She stroked the tip of my tongue with hers until I began to moan. She caressed my lips from the inside once more, and then she pulled back.

  "You want it too," she concluded happily.

  My knees were shaking. "Of course." I gasped for breath and was completely confused. "That's not the question." This was all up to her!

  "Yes," she contradicted. "It was for me. You've been very reserved for awhile now."

  "I promised you I would," I replied, not quite understanding what she was after.

  She laughed tenderly. "The fact that you always keep your promises has started to get just a little irritating."

  "Why? What else are promises there for?" And it had been difficult enough for me as well!

  She pressed her cheek against mine and sighed. "How self-explanatory that is to you. I'm just not used to that. I thought you didn't want me anymore. You never reacted. Not even this evening. Until now."

  I laughed, amazed. "I didn't want you? I wanted nothing else the whole time. But I won't do anything if you don't get anything from it." I looked at her probingly. "You can seduce me any time you want. You should know that. I can only resist you when I keep my distance." I had to laugh. I held one hand up between
us. "Not at this distance, anyhow!" I took the hand away again and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. I pulled her close to me. "I want you. I want you so much," I whispered in her ear.

  The dress rustled. I'd never heard a more erotic sound in my life. She pressed her whole body against mine and stood that way.

  "I want you too!" Her voice had suddenly taken on a desperate tone. "If only I could convince you of that! I yearn for you. It really hurts. But you always think I'm acting."

  I loved her so much. And I wanted so much to believe her. I kissed her shoulders and let my mouth wander to her neck. I felt her pulse beating against my lips. I changed direction and glided down toward her breasts. Her breathing grew heavier. The edge of the dress stopped me. I turned back up and sought her mouth. She was more than ready. I leaned my head against the wall. She pushed inside with her tongue and kissed me with more desperation than before. She dug her fingers into my hair. "Believe me, please!" she whispered into my mouth.

  I couldn't think about anything other than the fact that I desired her, I needed her touch, her kisses, her body. Her devotion, which was so sweet. What should I do with all my love if I couldn't give it to her? I didn't want to have any more doubts about that, I didn't want to know it anymore. I wanted to give myself to her, to entrust myself to her experienced hands that could bring out every feeling I could wish for. I capitulated. "Convince me." How could I resist my own desire any longer?

  "I will, if you let me." She entered my mouth again and kissed me with such passion, it would've overcome any resistance I could possibly have offered. Her hands ran down along my body. I moaned. I wanted her to undress me. She didn't. I caressed her shoulders. She shivered. I ran my hands across her naked back. Now, she moaned.

  When I reached the edge of the dress, I wondered why jeans had ever come into fashion. The transition from her skin to the silk of the dress was the most erotic thing I'd ever felt. I searched for a zipper. She laughed quietly into my shoulder. "It doesn't have one."

  The surprise brought back my capacity for logic. "How do you put it on, then?"