Stephanie's Revenge by Susanna Hughes Page A

me?' then nudged
his friend before walking over to her table.
    'Buone sera,'
he said cheerily, smiling his best smile.
    'You speak
English?' she asked.
    He shook his
head and shrugged. Not that it mattered. For what she had in mind
sign language would be quite enough. She patted the seat next to
her and poured a glass of champagne. Handing it to him, she clinked
the side of her own glass against his.
    'Cheers,' she
said.
    'Salute,' he
replied, sipping the champagne.
    'No English at
all?'
    He shrugged
again.
    'You'll
dance?' She indicated the dance floor.
    'Danzare? Si,
si.'
    He stood up,
looking down into her cleavage and at her long legs. 'Bella,' he
said, almost to himself. He held out his hand to help her up from
the rather low seats. He did not let go of her hand when she was
up, but instead used it to lead her on to the dance floor. She saw
him exchange looks with his friend.
    It was not
difficult to be carried away by the throbbing beat of the disco
music. The DJ was good at his job. He increased the pace of the
music gradually but continually, each song a little bit more
upbeat, requiring a little bit more effort. Stephanie had always
loved to dance. She let her body move with the music, let it take
her over until she felt her pulse rate rising, her heart pumping,
and a sort of euphoria overtaking her; nothing left in her mind but
the pounding beat.
    The DJ changed
the mood with Chris de Burgh and Lady in Red. Her Italian caught
her hand and pulled her to him, both his hands snaking behind her
back to hold her tightly against him. That was what she wanted,
too. She suddenly felt seventeen again, dancing at school balls,
remembering how all the girls had teased the boys, trying to see if
they could give them an erection by stroking their necks, biting
and blowing in their ears, pushing themselves against their groins.
She remembered how it had felt as their penises unfurled, nosing up
against her navel, hot and hard. In those days, the boy would often
blush and break away. Or not. Those that didn't were the
experienced ones, the ones that knew. They pushed their erections
rhythmically into her navel, up and down, while their hands worked
their way over the cheeks of her arse...
    The music
stopped, and a more aggressive number blared out again to start
another sequence. Her Italian started to dance again, but she
caught his hand and pulled him towards the bar.
    At the table,
most of the ice in the bucket had melted and the Dom Perignon was
now very cold. The Italian refilled both their glasses. Using sign
language, Stephanie indicated the glass and then the Italian's
friend, who still sat on the bar-stool all alone. The Italian,
catching on quickly, beckoned his friend over.
    'Would you
like a drink?' Stephanie said when he arrived.
    'Si,
grazie.'
    He glanced at
his friend, uncertain as to what was going on. The friend shrugged
his shoulders, equally puzzled. Stephanie attracted the waiter's
attention and asked him to bring another glass and another
bottle.
    'Stephanie,'
she said, pointing at herself.
    'Angelo,' the
Italian she had danced with said, smiling.
    'Carlo,' the
new arrival added.
    'Well boys,
here's to a wonderful evening.'
    'Salute.'
    'Salute.'
    'You speak
English, Carlo? Parla l'inglese?'
    Carlo smiled,
his mischievous face radiating pleasure, his eyes darting over
Stephanie's body. 'A little,' he said haltingly.
    'Come on,
let's dance some more.'
    Stephanie got
up and took Carlo's hand. Angelo looked crestfallen until she
extended her other hand to him. Then his puzzlement returned.
    She pulled
them to the dance floor and danced with them both. She aimed her
body subtly at each in turn, moving her hips in time to the music,
making circles in the air, looking into their eyes to tell them
what she was thinking as she was dancing: that dancing was a form
of sex, a rehearsal, a movement class in sexual gyration. She held
her breast, she caressed her sides, she shimmied and shook, and let
the music and the