I Can’t Believe I Did It

George smiled. "I'd say it's a good thing we both have the same reaction. If I was jealous and you were disappointed, there'd be a problem. I'd be angry that you were disappointed. By the same token, if you were horrified that it happened and I was horny over it you be ticked that I was turned on. But instead, since we both got horny over it, you're mildly amused about the fact we're 'perverts,' as you put it and so am I." He leaned over and kissed me lightly. "I guess that says something about us that we didn't know."

"Yeah, I guess so. If it happens again and we have the same reaction I guess we'll really know that we're perverts. I don't know if I want to find out that for sure. It kind of scares me."

"Well, we may be perverts, but we're sensible perverts. I'm confident that if it does happen again with the same reaction that we'll keep it in proper perspective and not let it be something that hurts our marriage."

"I'm glad you're confident, I'm not so sure. You don't know how I felt while he was exploring my body. He was truly trying to seduce me. He wanted more than to cop a feel. Don't forget he wanted to take me into the weight room where nobody could see us. I'm sure if I'd gone there'd have been some nude body parts involved."

"Well, like I said last night, I'll keep an eye on you in the future, so if some guy wants to get fresh, I'll see that things don't get out of hand."

"You'd better. If the next guy is as good at it as the last guy, I can't be held responsible for my response."

Well, nothing did happen. Month after month went by and only the regulars danced with me and none of them did any more than hold me close, although I thought I noticed that Mike McMasters had an erection once. It was only just for a fleeting moment as we made a quick turn in a dance and then I never felt it again. Maybe it was wishful thinking on my part.

It was the dance in June when I noticed a new face. An older gentleman was talking with Fran Jackson as I was coming back from the ladies room. "Oh hi Luce," she said. "Have you met my dad?"

"No, I don't believe I have."

"Dad, this is Lucinda Michaels. Luce, this is my Dad, Daniel Franklin."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Franklin," I said as I shook his hand.

"Oh please, Lucinda, you're old enough to call me Daniel or Dan."

"OK Dan, we'll be on a first name basis. You can call me Luce."

"You and Dad should hit it off well," Fran said. "He and mom used to dance ballroom competitions."

"That was years ago," he insisted.

"Well even at that you could dance rings around most of the guys here with your shoes on the wrong feet," she claimed.

He and I laughed. "Well there's one way to prove it. They're about to switch over to slow tunes, you could dance a few with me," I offered.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather dance with your husband?" he asked.

"My husband says he has two left feet and no sense of rhythm. He's not as bad as he says, but he really isn't talented in ballroom and won't even try anymore."

"If you're sure he won't mind."

"Look," I said, taking his hand, "come with me and I'll introduce you and you'll see he's fine with me dancing with other men." I led him across the room to where I'd left George waiting by the bar. "George, I'd like you to meet Dan Franklin. He's Fran Johnson's Dad. Dan, this is my husband George."

"Nice to meet you Dan. Here for a visit?"

"Yes, my daughter has been after me to spend the summer for a couple of years since my wife died. The first year I visited her brother and last year I needed to take a couple of courses to keep my teaching certification current."

"Welcome. I hope you'll enjoy your time," George told him.

"He will if I have anything to do with it. Fran tells me he's really enjoys ballroom dancing and quite good at it too. I intend to test that as soon as the DJ switches over. If he's a good as advertised, I may just dance with him all night," I informed George.

George snickered and said, "Well Dan, looks like you've got your work cut out for you. She loves to dance all those old slow tunes and even though the guys here are happy to dance with her they have to dance with their own wives as well. I'm sure they all be grateful to have some help."

"See Dan, I told you he would be fine with it."

"OK, OK you've convinced me. Will you do me the honor of being my dance partner tonight?"

"I'd love to kind sir," I said dropping curtsy and laughing. I'm sure my curtsy was far from perfect. I hadn't curtsied since I was in seventh grade PE where I first learned to waltz and two step and it was a required part of accepting a dance invitation. We all chuckled and the DJ put on a waltz as if on cue.

Dan put out his arm and I took it as we started for the dance floor. I looked over my shoulder and said, "Don't worry dear, no matter how good he is on the dance floor, I'm still coming home with you."

Well time flew and much too soon for my liking it was time to go home. I was jazzed. Dancing with Dan was an experience I'd not soon forget. When George and I got to the bedroom I whipped my dress off over my head, taking my slip with it I kicked off my shoes and grabbed him as soon as he had his pants off pulling him to the bed. What ensued was every bit as wild, if not more so, as what had taken place in February and included a round in the morning.

As I came back from my shower, George had coffee poured and was waiting at the table. "Want to tell me about it?" he asked.

"Are you sure you want to know about it?"

"If it's what I think it is I want to know. Out with it and don't leave out anything. I'm guessing that Dan turned out to be like your friend at the Valentine's dance."

"I would put that lecher, it the same class. Dan is a gentleman. He didn't try to get me to go to the weight room or any other private place."

"Still something similar happened didn't it? Only this time it turned you on and didn't upset you. I know because we were there for the last dance. So are you going to tell me?"

"How are you feeling right now, thinking that?"

"My mind is picturing all kind of things. As a result, I'm ready to pounce on you like last time but I'd still like to hear what happened."

"OK, but let me tell you and don't interrupt." He nodded and I started. "I hope you meant what you said about me getting felt up at these dances. First of all you need some background. Dan is a high school teacher and he wife died two years ago last January. He told me their story as we danced the first few dances. They met when he was just out of college and went to an Arthur Murray Dance Studio to learn ballroom dancing. Martha, his wife, was an instructor there. He said he fell in love the first time he held her and immediately signed up for advance courses when he learned she taught them as well. Through the course of his dance classes she came to enjoy his company. She said that as a student he exceeded the teacher and they became dance competition partners. They spent so much time together over the next year; it just seemed natural to get married. They were happy for twenty-seven years. The marriage was cut short when she got colon cancer and by the time they caught it, it had metastasized and involved so much that there wasn't much they could do. Fortunately she didn't suffer long and died quickly. Dan says that only his work kept him from going crazy and then his son took him in for the summer and helped him get over the worst of his grief. He still misses her and has to force himself to go do things socially.

"It turns out that Martha and I are about the same height and hair color. He told me so much about her I almost feel as if I know her. He said, 'You know when we are dancing it's almost as if the clock is turned back twenty years I'm dancing with Martha again.'

"I told him, 'If it pleases you to pretend I'm Martha, I don't mind. She sounds wonderful and I'm honored to be compared to her."

"'You must be wearing Chantilly,' he told me. 'It was her favorite and you smell just like her.' And I was. It must have been fate that made me choose that over Toujours Moi. Anyway, I think I must have touched him in some way because he pulled me close and was quite for a long time. We stayed on the dance floor all night except for two breaks to go to the restroom. That man can dance. He effortlessly guided me around the floor. I felt as if we were joined in some way and moved as if controlled by one brain. Some where around ten-thirty or so, as a tune came to an end, I leaned back to say something to him and he just leaned down and kissed me. Not a hot passionate kiss, but a slow sensual kiss like you give me when you're feeling romantic. At first I was shocked and was going to pull away, but I realized he had been pretending I was Martha and in his mind he wasn't kissing me, he was kissing Martha so I let him continue. It didn't take long for him to realize what he was doing and stop. He was really embarrassed.

"'Oh God, I'm sorry,' he apologized, 'It was just so much like dancing with Martha I forgot where I was. We used to kiss between numbers. We'd start the kiss as one song ended and end it when the next started."

"'It's alright, I didn't mind,' I told him.

"'But I had no right to kiss you. You're husband was kind enough to let me dance with you and... well I had no right. I'm sorry.'

"'Look, I said I didn't mind and I meant it. In fact I kind of enjoyed it. Besides I told you to pretend I'm Martha if it pleases you and apparently it did, so as far as I'm concerned, I'm Martha and if you want to kiss me you can.' With that I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. He resisted for a few moments but in the end, he kissed me back. From that dance on he kissed me at the end of each song and didn't stop until the next one started. As good as the man can dance he kisses better. I think I enjoyed his kisses more than his dancing and that's saying something. I really enjoyed his dancing. I don't think anyone has made me enjoy dancing more.

"About an hour later, he upped the ante. As we were kissing, he probed with his tongue and I opened without any resistance. While we were tongue wrestling, he put his hand on my butt and gently cupped it. My response was inborn. I brought my hips against him and moaned in pleasure. Suddenly he broke the kiss and pulled away embarrassed again.

"'Oh my God, I've done it again. I'm sorry look maybe we better quit dancing. I keep getting lost in the past and I forget that you're really not Martha. I stuck my tongue down your throat and... I touched you. Can you ever forgive me for being so forward?'

"'Nothing to forgive,' I told him. 'Tonight, for you, I'm Martha. You haven't done anything that was wrong as far as I'm concerned. Now as I remember, the deal is that we start a kiss when the song ends and don't stop until the next one starts.' With that, I pulled his face down to mine and I kissed him with tongue. I reached down and put his hand on my butt again. It was awkward until he got back into it. When the next song started, I kept my arms around his neck and we began moving with the music. I'm not sure what dance we were doing; I was just following his lead. But I notice his hand stayed on my butt. Mostly it just stayed there, but occasionally, he massaged a bit and it felt good. Then his other hand began exploring my back and after a time he found and stayed with that erogenous zone. The result was I was up for anything he wanted to do after that.

"At the end of the next song, he boldly cupped my butt with both hands and pulled me to him. I could feel his arousal. It felt huge. It was turning me on to think that he was hot for me, even if in his mind I was Martha. During the next dance, occasionally he would kiss the side of my neck or my temple as his hands experimented with where to touch me. When his right hand found my breast, I nearly came on the spot. He cupped it and thumbed my nipple so tenderly, it could have been a butterfly bumping its wings against me. He hesitated mid-step in the dance and moved his hand away suddenly. 'Uh-uh, I'm Martha remember?' I said and put his hand back on my breast. God, it just felt so good. Just then the song ended and I pulled him into the agreed on kiss, his hand still on my breast. I guess at that point he just quit trying to keep me and Martha separate in his mind because he really got into the kiss and gently massaged my breast in a very sensual way. After that his hands roamed my body like he was trying to commit it to memory. First one hand had a breast and then the other. Each was equally able to thrill me. I rubbed myself against him every chance I got and the kisses between dances became very passionate.

"As the last dance ended, we were in a very dark corner and as he kissed me one last time, his right hand snaked it's way up under my blouse. Last night's bra was the beige sheer nude bra that nearly feels like it isn't there. This time when he broke the kiss, he didn't move his hand as he looked and me an apologized. 'I must confess I know you're not really Martha, but I couldn't resist touching you.' With that he kissed me lightly as he removed his hand and then said, 'Thanks for a wonderful night,' and turned on his heel and walked away. I wanted to run after him and tell him I hoped to see him next month but he seemed determined to make his exit. By the time I got to the lounge, he was out of sight.

"That's when I came and found you so we could come home."

Through my whole story I studied George trying to gauge his response. I hoped he had meant it when he said if the result was wild, hot sex he hoped I got felt up every night.

"Well?" I asked him. "Is that what you meant you wanted when you said, 'I hope you get felt up every dance'?" I looked at him hoping that it was, because Dan had gotten to me in a way that no other man had and remembering what George had said gave me license to let him continue.

George stood and came over to me and kissed me passionately. "You came home horny, didn't you?" he asked as he led me back to the bedroom. I don't know how we managed that much stamina with no breakfast but by the time we were through, it was afternoon. No talking only hot sex, three times with lots of fondling and other activity in between.

Sex after that was a thing of huge passion and happened often. For the next four days, it was both morning and night. On Friday George had to work late and we had and evening engagement that kept us out until two so we didn't do anything that night, but made up for it on Saturday. We never did get fully dressed and actually ended up making love on the couch. We hadn't been that active on our honeymoon. I had never been so well used in my life and I was loving it.

The July dance was held on the second Saturday so as to not interfere with Fourth of July plans. The week before I cornered George in the kitchen over coffee. "George, I don't want to wait for the night of the dance to talk about this. Let's make sure we're on the same page about what might happen this month."

"OK," he said, "what do you think might happen?"

"It might be a continuation of last month if I dance with Dan."

"Do you want to dance with Dan again?"

I bit my lip and then said, "I think you know the answer to that."

George was beginning to breathe heavily. "He got to you didn't he?" he asked. I nodded. "You liked everything he did, and you'd like him to do it all again."

I nodded and said softly, "And more."

"Well," George said, "I guess you go and dance with Dan and when we come home I'd better be well rested because if last time was an indication, I'll have a work out keeping up with you."

"You mean that? Because if I dance with Dan again, we'll start the between dance kissing with the first dance and the feeling me up will be a given."

"As long as you come home ready to screw my brains out, then we're good."

"Oh my God. We really are perverts. We're sitting here planing for me to be intimately touched by another man. Both of us looking forward to it and I'm getting horny thinking about it."

"Me too," agreed George and took my hand leading me to the bedroom for another marathon sex romp.

The following Saturday after we got ready to go, I stopped George and said, "Last chance to change your mind about me dancing with Dan."

"You know you don't want me to change my mind."

"That's true, but if you tell me to I'll politely tell Dan that I don't think it'd be wise to dance with him."

George just shook his head and took me by the hand leading me out the door. On the way he stopped and turned me to face him. I thought he'd had a change of heart and was going to tell me not to dance with Dan. "I was just thinking about Dan." Here it comes, I thought. "I was putting myself in his position. His wife died three years ago and he hasn't been with a woman since. Then he comes to a dance and finds a young honey that allows him to, almost insists that he, treat her as if she was his wife and he goes home with a bad case of blue balls. Even in high school, I didn't put up with a prick tease for more than two dates. If the girl was willing to let me explore, well I expected her to get me off some how."

I was shocked. "What do you mean? Do you mean I should have sex with him?"

"Well, not really, but the girls in high school could find things to do to keep me coming back without actually doing the dirty deed."

"Like what?" I wanted him to spell it out.

"There are ways to get a guy off without actually having sex and most guys in a casual relationship will be glad to have that much. I'm sure that you resorted to that kind of thing in your early dating experience."

"Yes I did, and some of them were pretty intimate. Just what did you have in mind."

"I'll leave that up to you. I'm just saying that if you want to see him again in August you should consider not sending him home with blue balls."

With that he started walking toward the dance again. I had to consider what he had said. I knew I wanted to... have fun again that night, but what about August? Oh God, I'm a pervert fast approaching being a slut! August! What about August? Yes, if tonight works out as good as last month, then I want it again in August. I couldn't believe I thought that. That's dangerously close to the kind of thinking a slut has. I didn't know if George's thinking on the matter was true or not, but I had admit it had the ring of truth. I remember a few guys who had gone exploring only to be rebuffed when they want to remove clothing or have me touch them and I didn't get many chances to change my mind and go along before they dated other girls. And after I chose to "help out" the guys put up with me not spreading my legs for them at least for a while.

Dan had certainly been worked up at the end of the last dance and had let me know in no uncertain terms that the lust he felt was directed at me and not his dead wife. I'm sure that he had gone home with "blue balls," as George put it. If I don't "take care of him" will he not come back in August? I had a choice to make. Yes, I did that kind of thing when I was dating, but can I do it now? That was a question I'd have to answer when the time came. The whole idea of what we were planing made my head spin. I'm a married woman, for God's sake and my husband is on board with me having a sexual adventure, albeit not sex per se but sexual just the same, with another man. How perverted is that?

When we got to the dance, we went over to the bar and I looked around to see if I could find Dan and he was no where in sight. I finally spotted Fran and went to talk to her.

"Hi Fran, where's your dad? I really enjoyed dancing with him last month and I'd hoped to again tonight."