Losing my V-card to my dancing Instructor was the last thing I expected to happen.

He was the lead dancer.
A Spanish gypsy with black hair and eyes,
And muscular arms that I just wanted to reach out and grab.
He would criticize me at every turn.
I couldn't tell if it was hate or love.
But every once in a while, I would catch him looking at me, burning passion in his eyes.
One evening, I saw him stumbling around.
His shirt ripped, and tears and mud were on his face.
He looked so lost and yet still so handsome.
That's when he told me he had wanted me since we first met and took me to his house.
He grabbed my wrist, kissed me, and made passionate love.
That night was one I will never forget.