My dance partner Rachel (Part 2) 9 min read

Well all those many months of exercise really seemed to give Rachel confidence that she never seemed to have before. I guess getting much more attractive during the key life-transition period of middle school will do that for a girl, especially after a long youth of being fairly chubby, unattractive and invisible. So she had a stronger personality now. She was a totally cute, ball of fire.

She even had her own way to communicate with me. When she wanted to dance really hard that night, she’d wear bright red panties ! On those nights, watch out ! She’d be a wild banshee.

And when she wore her red panties, she would flash them at me before we started class so I KNEW she was wearing them. It was kind of like a warning flag. But Rachel wouldn’t just give me a quick, half second glance. She’d hold up her miniskirt for maybe 5 seconds encouraging me to get a good view of her baby factory. There was no shame. She WANTED me to look there !

This girl was starting to get bold about her sexuality, even aggressive about it.

That summer Rachel also started introducing me to modern dances which she had learned from her girlfriends at school and on sleepovers: the Swim, the Mashed Potato, the Pony, the Locomotion (which I amusingly saw the Australian pop tart Kylie Minogue “rediscover” some 20 years later).

But now our dance classes were quite different. I was starting to get out of my comfort zone. I wasn’t used to this free-form movement by each person. As such I had lost control over my dance partner. And Rachel had become the instructor.

It’s not surprising with Rachel’s new found hotness and her fashionable choice of clothes and shoes, I was constantly distracted during our sessions that last summer. Add to that, the new moves I was having to learn. And when Rachel danced the new styles, her nubile, gyrating body was something I just wanted to stop and stare at. It was tough for me.

On one of her black stilettos days in mid August I was messing up a lot. With her long, lean legs in that tiny miniskirt and those gorgeous shoes, I just couldn’t help it. Rachel seemed to notice and eventually said “you’re horrible tonight.” Obviously she never got the “always be nice to your dance partner” memo. She then casually said “If you don’t start dancing better, I’m going to wear my heels when I walk on your back.” Which I think was supposed to be just a funny threat but which distracted me even worse !!

I got a raging boner at the thought of a stiletto trample by Rachel but I tried to keep her at arms length to prevent her from noticing it. Rachel said “don’t be such a wimp” and pulled me in tight. And then she received a surprise by bumping up against the obvious full erection hidden in my trousers. She looked up at my face but I wouldn’t make eye contact with her. Rachel didn’t seem to be phased by this at all and actually started grinding on me. That shook me up even more !

I got so distracted I totally flubbed up every dance move for the next few minutes. It was bad enough that Rachel said we should take a break. I apologized profusely and Rachel decided it was probably best to just end our night. So I grudgingly agreed.

“You were terrible today.” she boldly said. “Get down there.” and pointed to the floor by the staircase. So at least she was still going to do the barefoot back walking thing. Which would be a nice way to wrap up the class. So I complied and laid down in the normal spot. But instead of hearing the soft patter of her bare feet that I was used to, it was the click clack of her stilettos on the concrete floor as she walked toward me. She had left her shoes on and was going to carry through on her threat !

Without even asking she took her right high heeled shoe and started pushing down on my back at two or three spots, trying to find a solid place for her first step. At that moment I glanced up at her from the floor and caught a mischievous grin on her face. Then with no warning she lifted her whole body up onto mine and then brought her other spike heel pump up there as well. Rachel grabbed on to the staircase railings for balance and proceeded to move her feet side to side on my body, making sure every inch of my back and butt felt the wrath of her heels and her entire body weight.

Be careful what you wish for because you might actually get it ! I was finally being stepped on my Rachel’s beautiful spike heel shoes and let me tell you, it hurt ! I had a right to fear those tiny heels because the were just digging into my back, even with Rachel weighing only 48 kg (106 lbs) or so. Thank goodness she had a petite build. A tall, big girl in shoes like that would probably would have poked numerous holes in me straight through to the floor !

But my dream session with Rachel got even better !!!

After a few minutes of stiletto acupuncture on my back Rachel stepped off and kicked me softly in the side with her pointy toe. “Flip over” she said. So I rolled over onto my back and was now looking up at her as she towered over me in those high heels. She undid her pony tail and shook it out so her long hair flowed all around her beautiful face.

Just as before Rachel took her high heeled pump and started feeling around my chest, searching for a solid place for her to step up. She never asked if she could trample on my front, she just decided she was going to do it. And I, of course, was in absolute nirvana (regardless of the discomfort) and couldn’t have resisted her even if I thought I should. Rachel had completely bewitched me with her perfect shoes and body, as well as this unsolicited trampling session.

When Rachel stepped up on my chest for the first time she just stood there looking straight down at my face without moving for maybe 10 seconds. Eye to eye contact the whole time. It was a surprisingly intimate moment. But she wasn’t smiling. Or reacting in any way. Just dispassionately looking. As if she were a scientist curiously watching an experiment.

But all that while I was feeling the crush of her entire weight coming down through those black leather stilettos as they dug into my flesh through my flimsy t-shirt. And the discomfort I experienced was even more so than when she was on my back. Though she was very thin Rachel was still a full-grown woman. And I felt every kg of that sexy body pressing down on me through those stylish shoes.

Hanging on to the banister for balance she started moving back and forth on my chest and stomach with tiny steps. Each one was painful. I tensed up my stomach muscles and wished I had been doing the 100 situps like Rachel did because her stiletto heels were completely sinking into my body. She was letting all of her weight just naturally fall on her heels into me as if she were just standing on the street. She wasn’t even trying to walk on her toes. I briefly wondered if my organs could withstand being stabbed by her heels like that. But I was still alive so I guess the answer was “yes”. She had threatened in jest to step on me with those high heel shoes but now she was actually doing it and not holding anything back.

One time during all this trampling Rachel stepped directly on my boner with her spike heel. I’m pretty sure it was by accident. Which was no surprise since she was walking all over me. But when it happened, she would have obviously noticed it. On either side of my penis were hard hip bones. So when she felt her stiletto dig into something kind of springy and enlarged in that region, it must have been my cock, which at that moment was completely erect. So my secret was now involuntarily discovered by Rachel. She instantly knew I was tremendously enjoying our trampling interaction for some strange, odd reason that even I did not understand.

The second and third and forth times she stepped on my erection, however, Rachel must have done it on purpose. I saw her laughing while looking down at my groin area like she was aiming her heel. Apparently it was just some type of cruel game for her ! And god did it hurt. Especially the last one when her heel tip landed right on the head of my penis.

Rachel finally stepped off of me with a “clack” onto the cement floor. As she did, I grimaced. “Poor baby – did that hurt ?” Rachel asked as she stood there and looked down at me with a pout. She was toying with me.

But my cruel dance partner didn’t give me any time to respond. Instead she turned, flipped her hair and said she had to leave. Rachel told me 9th grade cheerleader tryouts were happening the next day. And that a 10th grade football player had already asked her out. He had a car, she bragged. Then she walked up the stairs, her stilettos making clump, clump sounds on the steps. I heard the most perfunctory “good bye” from her right before she opened the basement door. And she was gone.

Rachel didn’t show up for our next session on Monday. She just ghosted me and I was left alone that night. Before the following class on Thursday her mom called my mother to say that Rachel had made the cheerleader squad and wouldn’t have time for dance party any more.

So now Rachel was the experienced and savvy one. She had become a sexy, fashionable woman who was totally out of my league. And I just wasn’t useful to her anymore. She had outgrown me. In our final dance class, Rachel told me all these things in no uncertain terms. Not by her words, but with her stilettos.