Title: The Devil's Deadly Dance of Desire
Summary: Claude Frollo can remember exactly what drove him to obsess over Esmeralda. It was her dance. Her graceful yet sensuous dance.
Genre: Romance
Rated: T for Frollo's naughty thoughts
A/N: My first E/F story, so be nice. I do accept constructive criticism. I didn't watch the entire movie either.
A phoenix. Her sheer, vibrant dress that boasted vivid pigments of yellow and red resembled the feathers of a fiery phoenix. Her cascading locks of raven darkness were tossed around teasingly as she leapt and pranced. Her bronzed skin reflected off the sun's glaring light perfectly. Her lips parted; oh, it was a luscious sight! Her hands had golden, ruby-studded cuffs. She banged a tambourine as she continued spinning and twirling.
Her movements were rapid. The sash that accompanied the dress was whirled around her perfect frame. She was tall, I could remember. Tall, slender with the most voluptuous curves. Those curves could rival all the goddesses' in the world. I was caught and trapped the minute I saw that dance.
Her face enchanted me. Her body received my nether region's undivided attention, I am ashamed to say. Her dress bewitched me. But it was her dance.
Yes, her dance.
The very dance that drove to near delusion. That near delusion was spawned from my maddening lust and the fact that, due to my reputation as a pious, celibate man of authority, I could never satisfy it. I was sickened and excited by the whole experience.
The crowd was cheering her on as she continued spinning, frolicking and pouncing. Her hips gyrated, her bountiful bosom bounced, her bare dainty feet slapped the stage with rapid succession and her hair…that glorious, exquisitely scented ebony hair…it flailed and glided along with the rest of her sensual figure. Oh, Esmeralda, why do you torment me while I sit on my throne?
I had to keep my emotions in check. So I made a rather expected comment to the Captain of the Guards, Phoebus. He doesn't really grasp it. He too had been bewitched by this gypsy girl's spell
The spell soon charmed me. She sprang onto my lap and pulls me in closer with a scarf, a huge contrast in color and design to her dress, and planted a sudden but definitely real kiss on the tip of my nose.
That was the icing on the cake. For after feeling those juicy, firm and glossy lips on my nose, I could feel a deepening pressure in my groin. Her scent also wafted into my nose. A scent so intoxicating, it rivaled the delicious aroma of red roses in bloom. Her hair brushed my face. Its thickness and softness aroused my every nerve. I couldn't help but lean in closer, desiring another kiss.
However, just as quick as when she had kissed me, she shoved my chaperon down over my eyes and leapt off of my lap. I was enraged. Never have my feelings ran so freely over any women. Especially a gypsy girl. I prided myself in despising gypsies for I considered them to be 'vermin'; the scum of the Earth. The Devil's creation.
Yet, next to my rage, I felt another emotion. One I have never felt in ages.
Lust.
One of the seven deadly sins.
I couldn't believe a gypsy could enthrall me so completely. I should be shouting at her. And yet, I continued watching. Like a young boy engrossed with seeing a fight or battle between his friends. She somersaulted, cart wheeled and flipped around as the music increased in tempo. She looked up after performing a rather 'interesting' dance move requiring a spear and I caught a long look at her eyes.
Her emerald eyes that outshone all the emeralds in the world. They had a mocking look within them. Like she was mocking me. My jaw clenched. Still, I sat and watched. All the while, immersed in the warmth and beauty that was she. The accursed gypsy girl. The unholy fire goddess from Hell.
My mind wandered. I couldn't prevent from thinking, dreaming and fantasizing what was lurking underneath that dress. And whether she also possessed limber motion under a bed cover. The pressure in my groin intensified. Thankfully, my robe concealed it. My eyes roamed her body shamelessly. Heaven knows I tried to rein them in but it was hopeless. The gypsy's curse was working.
I could just imagine fondling those tanned, heaving breasts, covering them with lusty kisses. They would supple and fit into my awaiting palms perfectly. The pink erect buds on them would stand at my attention. I'd give careful consideration in touching them as well. Her waist, I would stroke with lustful abandon. Her hips I would rock against roughly, punishing her for this torment. I wanted her toned, limber legs wrapped around my abdomen as I thrusted into her repeatedly.
Oh her moans would be rapturous! She'd plead, she'd beg. I would be merciless. I'd give it to her good! These thoughts poisoned my mind and I didn't care a bit. The gypsy had me. She had me looking at her and all other gypsies in a different light. I swear to God, I wanted to rid myself of these sinful thoughts but to no avail.
Esmeralda had my heart, my soul and my body at that moment. And all my thoughts and notions of my profession, my abhorrence of gypsies and my celibacy evaporated. All I wanted was a breathing, heaving, and aroused, sexually frustrated, lithe and naked body under my own nudeness. The pain in my groin was unbearable! Still, I kept watching.
Her body was a sight to behold, it's true. Her face could charm any man, even me. Her hair was impressively silky and thick. Her skin rivaled the exquisite bronze color of the Sun. But it was her dance.
Her dance that brought me to realize all of her irresistible features. The dance that put sinful, shameless thoughts into my head. The dance that made me desire her to the point of sheer lunacy.
Curse you gypsy!! Curse you and this spell you have put on me!
I'll have you yet. You can be sure after this little performance that I will stop at nothing to possess you. And if I can't, I'll send you back to Hell. Back to the flaming, scorching embers of sin.
I promise you this Esmeralda.
For you will be mine and mine alone.
A/N: Phew, how was that? Reviews please.