Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
It did not help that she had tried to be conscientious and read up on the subject. She had been both horrified and interested by the details.
The man ignored the double meaning and looked at her carefully, before saying thoughtfully "I think that the twist is feasible provided I help you balance."
She nodded. "Let's try." She knew her mother and aunt had used to do the dance and one Christmas she had seen them both competing with each other as to how low they could go. Somehow she found it hard to imagine her father twisting.
She imagined being her aunt and when the man held her hands she happily let him lead. They danced twice and watching herself in the mirror she imagined what it must have been like to be a teenager with her aunt. Her father disapproved of her aunt who had had a succession of boyfriends since her divorce five years ago. Her aunt in the meantime kept telling herself to go out and enjoy herself and had told Jill that if she wanted she would give Alan a test run for her and tell her if he was worth it. She channelled her aunt and found herself enjoying herself immensely. She looked at herself in the mirror and realised that she looked almost sexy.
After two twists they returned to the sofa.
He looked at her and said, "Would you like to know two tricks I tell my students to help them be more relaxed when they dance?"
As he said this he got another bottle of wine from the fridge and opened it.
"Yes. That would be good of you." No harm in listening and she had been enjoying the last hour or so immensely. She also did not object to the wine being opened. Perhaps there was something in his claim that the dancing burnt it off. She felt relaxed rather than lightheaded.
"The first is to imagine that when they dance they are a different person. For some it is a more elegant version of themselves, for others a more exuberant version." He refilled both their glasses and handed her a full glass,
She had sort of done that with Cheek to Cheek and with the Twist, but she could see that more generally it might be a promising idea.
"Let's try that next dance. The other?"
She sipped the wine and savoured it.
"Thinking that you are dressed differently."
Jill did not really understand that one.
"It makes the role play more convincing. Perhaps it works best if I could demonstrate."
He led her over to the clothes rack and wardrobes.
"I have dance clothes here which I lend to people who take dancing lessons with me while they work out what suits them."
He looked over at her and she indicated that he should continue.
"When we were dancing the twist I sensed that you wished that you could move more freely."
Jill nodded. Yes, that had been a little frustrating. The man looked at her waist.
"34 inch?"
"Yes." She was impressed by his judgement.
He moved to the wardrobe and took out a pair of red trousers and produced a red top from the drawers. She saw that he had toyed with picking out a short skirt and a more transparent top but had decided against it.
"Why not try these on and we can then try the twist again. You can change behind the screen, and I will hang up your skirt and blouse to keep them neat."
"I've seen photos of my mother and aunt wearing these. Are they called pedal pushers?"
"That's right. No doubt they looked very cool in them." Oh yes, they had. It had been quite frightening to realise that there was a time when one's mother and aunt had been hot.
"Yes. Ok, let's give it a go."
Jill moved behind the screen and quickly took of the blouse and put on the top. She looked round the screen and saw that the man was far away from her and was not trying to take a look. She then put on the trousers most of the way, took off the skirt and then pulled up the trousers all the way, did the button up and pulled up the zip. She then put her blouse and skirt on a hanger.
She said in a voice which partially resembled her aunt's "I'm ready." She came out from behind the screen and the man smiled at her.
He said, "Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me your name."
She looked at herself and gasped. She was stunning. She stretched from side to side and then bent over. She caught the man staring at her but did not mind. It was good to be attractive to men and she admitted to herself that it was even better to feel sexy. The top in particular made her feel good about herself. While her midriff was bare, everything which needed to be covered was although she suspected that the two straps were designed from easing off the shoulder.
She picked up her wine and finished the glass while thinking about the name.
She remembered a film she had seen with her old college friends two years ago. She looked a little like a cross between the "bad girl" in the film and the "good girl." The ponytail belonged to the good girl, but the hair colour and the top were more like the bad girl. The pedal pushers could go either way. She wavered between the two names and picked the good girl.
"Call me Sandy."
"Let's dance, Sandy."
They did the twist again and this time she appreciated the freedom the trousers gave her to twist lower and further. She was impressed that the old man could also reach the floor with his knees and get back to standing again. She imagined herself being surrounded by men watching her every movement and knowing that they could not touch her.
She next did a hand jive with him. She remembered the basic moves from the movie, but the man had them down pat. He coughed and said, "I enjoyed the film. I went with one of my students who wanted me to teach her some of the moves. Travolta is a good dancer, and I am told has a certain appeal to women."
She laughed at this, "I suppose you are more a Fred Astaire fan."
"Well, the stars of one's youth make the deepest impression."
He then demonstrated some swing dance moves. She supposed that they weren't that different from some of the earlier dances, except that they were faster and suited trousers or loose skirts better. They both sipped some more wine and did the dance at speed. She realised that he too was losing himself in the dance. She thought that really he was very well preserved for his age.
At the end of a particularly exhilarating dance, Jill said "I wish I could have a photo of me in this. It would help jog my memory when I needed to relax."
"I have a polaroid camera. Let's give it a whirl."
She nodded and while he went to get the camera she swigged some more wine. She was now very relaxed, but after all nothing was going to happen with the old man.
When he returned she posed with her bottom in the air, her hands on her hips and leaning forward. She then looked at the photograph and almost blushed. She was glad it was a polaroid so there would be no negative. Still, it gave her a frisson to imagine what the boys at her school would think if they saw her like that. For a split second she imagined the captain of the rugby team standing behind her with his hands on her hips as she bent over. She dismissed the image from her mind.
She turned to him and asked, "Did you use to take part in competitions?"
"All the time during the war. I often won and was normally in the top three depending on how good my partner was. Of course, it helped if one made the dance more exciting for the audience."
"More exciting?" She was running with his speed limit analogy. She wanted to see how easy it was to tempt a man into breaking the forty MPH limit without being too obvious. It might help her with Alan if she learnt how to hint that he could take things further.
"Most competitions started with about twenty couples on the floor and the judge tapped the worse ones on the shoulder to narrow it down. After the bad ones were removed the boring ones were eliminated. The trick was to up my game as the competition went on. Often the judge wanted to award the prizes to their friends, or a potential squeeze and my objective was to ensure that they knew that there would be calls of fix if they eliminated me and my partner too early."
"How did you do that?" She wondered if she was being too blatant, but the man seemed to assume that he was still leading.
"Would you like me to demonstrate?"
"Yes please."
They sipped some more wine and he demonstrated some of the moves involved. She was glad that he had chosen the trousers as otherwise she would not have dared do the dance.
The man (and only now did she focus on the fact that they had not exchanged real names yet) said, "For the safety of both of us you have to trust me to keep hold of you and do not tighten up too much. In particular do remember to open your legs at the right time."
Jill nodded. The thought of doing the dance excited her. Some intellectual had called dancing the perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire and she suspected that was one of the reasons she enjoyed it so much. She also realised that he had chosen some of the moves from the televised dance scenes in Grease. Still, he was probably right that swing and Rock and Roll shared moves.
The man put on Glenn Miller's "In the Mood" which was one of her great uncle's and grandmother's favourite tunes.
She took him at his word and watched the dance in the mirror. She trusted him when he started to swing her body around his body, back flipped her over his arms and then held her vertical above him in the air for a beat.
She remembered to open her legs as she came down. She watched in the mirror as her hips rubbed his groin and her legs flew up in the air behind him. She gasped and wished that Alan would dance like this with her. The song went on for five minutes and each time she lost herself that little bit more in the dance. She was now Olivia Newton-John and she imagined that he was a young Fred Astaire.
At the end of the dance, she had her legs wrapped around the man and her arms around his neck. His hands were on her bum, and he gave a slight squeeze. She looked to the side and saw herself in the mirror. She imagined what it would like if they had no clothes on or if one of the sixth form rugby players had her in such a position. She started to panic, not because she felt threatened, but because of what she was thinking.
The man said "We've won the competition, Sandy. Let's have a drink to celebrate."
That worked. She was just pretending after all, and nothing was going to happen. She had trousers on, and the man was a gentleman of the old school. Actually, she was now ready for a little bit more play acting if he would play along. He struck her as a five mile over the speed limit type and he deserved a little reward for cheering her up.
She looked around and decide to head towards the chaise longue rather than the sofa. He moved the table in front of it and brought the wine over. She thought of how a nice girl with a sense of adventure would behave, giggled to herself. She took a large gulp of wine, stood up and put her glass down on the table.
He had sat down and looked up at her. She smiled to herself and sat down on his lap and put her arm around his neck. She shut her eyes and opened her mouth. He kissed her and she was shocked to find that she enjoyed it. He did not grope but instead played with her hair and stroked her back. Jill was shocked to find that her legs began involuntarily to part.
She was taken aback and got to her feet feeling flustered. The man stood up, held her around the waist and looked her in the eyes, "You are a beautiful woman, Sandy."
She decided that she would pretend to be Sandy with a dash of Rizzo and play along a little further. She was enjoying it especially when she shut her eyes and imagined him as the young RAF officer of forty years ago who had been lucky to survive. One of her grannies had been a WAAF at an air base and told her about the number of brave young men who had died.
She replaced her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her again. The tongues met each other, and she relaxed still further. She lifted her right leg up and the man cupped her buttock and intensified the kiss. She lifted her left leg and his other arm held that and hoisted her higher up his body so that her legs were back around his hips. Her arms were around his neck, and she felt him carry her across the floor.
She found her bottom placed on the desk. She pulled the halters of the top down, so they were off her shoulder. She then looked towards the mirror and saw herself, no she saw Rizzo, with a man between her legs. This time instead of panicking she squeezed her legs together trapping the man between her thighs. She imagined that he was a member of the rugby team and lent backwards so that her back was on the desk and her legs rose in the air as she rubbed herself against his groin.
Something happened inside her and she shuddered as a feeling of intense pleasure went through her body. The only time she had felt that previously was on the top desk of a double decker bus when she was at school and the bus had vibrated as it waited at the traffic lights. She had done that for a year until a friend had described the same sensation and had spelt out that it was sexual in nature.
The man made no comment, and she decided not to be embarrassed.
She said, "Thank you. I think that you are right about your advice. I'd better change back."
She ran behind the screen. The man offered her the coat hanger without complaint and in a couple of minutes she was in her original clothes. She did not bother doing her blouse all the way up. She was feeling quite hot. She knew that if it had been Gavin, he would not have let her go and that Alan would have been shocked. The man seemed simply surprised and had not tried to stop her or force her to do anything she did not want to do.
When she reappeared, the man offered her another glass of wine and she took it. She still felt in control and leaned against the desk side by side with the old man.
She thought for a moment and then said as though to herself but with the intention of giving the man a green light to go to fifty MPH, "If my boyfriend prefers watching football rather than wanting to be with me, he can hardly complain if I spend time learning to dance with a gentleman."
More loudly she said, "You promised to teach me to Tango."
"I did indeed."
The man demonstrated the difference between the Argentinian version and the American version of the close quarters tango and rehearsed the basic moves. They did not feel right in her jacket, smart skirt, and blouse.
"I'm not quite feeling it yet. I think I need to change the costume."
"That should help."
"I have some high heels back in my room. Is there anything in your marvellous wardrobe to help get me in the mood?" The hints continued. Still there was not long before Alan returned and perhaps she could dissuade him from going to the concert if she were seductive enough.
"Definitely."
Jill returned to her room and looked through her case. She decided to put on the thigh high stockings, the French knickers, and the high heels. The high heels also made her feel more like a temptress and the illusion was further improved when she put added bright red lipstick, eye liner and mascara.
She wondered whether she also needed to pretend to be someone else. Somehow Sandy was not the right persona for dancing the tango. She checked the time. Plenty of time for dancing, but not too much.
When she returned to the dance studio, he nodded when she said, "It's not quite right yet."
He had prepared a few choices and she chose a short black satin dress with a slit up the right side and a bare back. It had a plunging neckline and was held up by two straps. Still, it only hinted at indecency.
While she was changing she heard a knock at the door and an exchange of words. She heard a woman call the man Mr Grimsdyke. She suspected that it was another bottle of wine being delivered. They must have finished the second one.
She came out from behind the screen and handed him the coat hanger with her skirt, blouse, and jacket on it. She left the bra over the screen. Jill noticed that he had ordered champagne rather than white wine.
She looked at herself in the mirror and thought to herself "Wow."
The man looked at her and then got closer and said, "It's not quite right yet. One more touch maybe."
He undid Jill's ponytail and spread her hair so that she did not look so innocent. Indeed, when she looked again in the mirror she now looked wild. She could believe in herself being a sultry temptress. She glanced at the man and saw that he had tried to look the part. Not ridiculously so, but there was now a hint of sexuality about him which there had not been before.
She said, "I'd like a photograph of me in this dress."
Jill decided to lie back on the chaise longue, raised one knee and put two hands behind her head, pushed her breasts up and closed her eyes.
The man poured her a glass of champagne as the picture developed.
When he showed it her she took a deep intake of breath. She now looked like that whore in Alan's history class who asked detailed questions about anal sex, threesomes, fingering, and oral sex and had got Alex expelled. She smiled to herself. She now had her identity for dancing the Tango.
She deliberately licked her lips and then in a husky voice said, "Call me Rebecca."
It was amazingly easy to play the slut when you had an example in mind. Although (or perhaps because) Rebecca was Alan's favourite, she despised the girl. One of her friends had a father who was in the police force and had told her about the mother who had died sucking her husband's best friend's cock in the back of a car when it had crashed. Alan had told her how the woman Rebecca lived with had tried to flirt with him when he had visited the house on the night of the near scandal. She had heard from another friend how the girl had been dressed like a tart when she had gone to the Malvern Theatre with Alex. She believed that she had led Alex on and only refused him because he would not pay her enough money.
She imagined being a sexually promiscuous young woman and wrapped her legs and arms around the man's body. She rubbed herself against Grimsdyke's thigh and dipped her body as low as she could go.
At the end of the song, she raised her right leg, closed her eyes, and violently kissed the old man. He moved his hand up her thigh and gently stroked her through her silk French knickers. She was totally abandoned for about a minute before breaking contact and wondering what the hell she was doing. She was also alarmed by the fact that she was enjoying it.
Grimsdyke said "Rebecca, you were excellent. You really believed in the dance.".
The panic vanished and she said, "It's easy to believe when you have a really expert partner. Alan is competent, but you are so much more.... experienced." She told herself that she could stop it anytime she wanted to and that it was really doing Alan a favour to learn how to be more relaxed when close to men.
She looked towards the back of the room where she saw some doors and asked in what she thought was a sultry voice, "What's in there?"
"My bedroom."
"Is there a bathroom here? I just want to redo my make up."
Grimsdyke showed her the room and she finished her glass of champagne and took her make-up bag into the bathroom. She went to the toilet, washed her hands, and increased the sluttiness of her make-up.
When she came up she half registered that the lights were dimmer, but happily took another glass of champagne and looked at herself in the mirror. No, she looked at Rebecca in the mirror.
The next dance was even more sexual. He was now either into the role of being the arrogant lover or she was more willing to suspend disbelief. They were close to the mirrors, and she stared at her -no Rebecca's body- draped over his. When his hand moved to her knickers, instead of panicking she kissed him with abandon. She felt a finger being inserted inside her and start to play with her. Shortly a second finger joined it and she started to respond to it.
