>Early in the evening, Demona takes Emily's hand and leads her out into the middle of the dance floor.
>Nobody else has started dancing yet, slow song playing.
>Demona's hands on Emily's hips, starts typical high school dance slowdance.
>Emily's turned on and flustered, confused again at Demona's restrained approach.
>Boobs so close to head, panties soaking, heart pounding, extreme blushing.
>Demona coolly and kindly smiles down at Emily, gazing into her eyes.
>Everyone watching them on the dance floor, knows exactly where a date with /d/ is going to lead.
>Snickering from the crowd, Emily can feel eyeballs on her, awkwardness through the roof.
>Everyone can see right through her, know what shameful, slutty thoughts are going through her head.
>Doesn't care, dancing on clouds, heartbeat crazy, spaghetti and other sauces running down thighs.
>Demona brushes the hair from Emily's face and neck with her tentacles.