Dance X Ch. 01

"What is this Dance X?" I asked my agent Sachin. He was sat across from me at a five star restaurant.

"If you ever watched regular television you would know this is the number one dance show on TV. This is your chance to get back in the limelight, Rima."

"Sachin, are you sure? TV is usually career suicide for a Bollywood starlet. What will people say about me?" I asked in dread at the idea of being some TV personality.

Once upon a time I was the fresh new thing on the Bollywood circuit and from the first day I tried to build a brand around my name. Every movie I took and even who I married was to enhance my brand. My reputation took a significant hit two years ago when details of my divorce came out. My in laws were powerful and used their connections to besmirch my name. I was in bed with powerful people and I was learning why people avoid sharks. A lie goes around the world before the truth has put its shoes on. Since then I had to play the doting mother with the limited access I had to my child and dating was no longer an option as I would be labeled a slut. It is a man's world and my husband was enjoying the fruits as I tried to salvage my reputation.

There was a suspicion that my family had blacklisted me from the industry. If I said this out loud I would just sound like a delusional paranoid crazy woman so I had to keep playing the game and working out my best options. I was pregnant when my husband divorced me but it was not released officially to the world until I gave birth and then the first rumor was spread that the divorce was because I would abandon the child to go partying.

"Girl, how do I say this? I have put your name out to everyone and no one is interested. Literally, I have called every production house personally. We need to face facts. You are 36. Bollywood is seemingly over for you to any respectable degree. You will not get a female lead and will need to take supporting roles as a mother or aunty. You can go down to B grade and even C grade movies but it will just damage your brand and there is no real money in those movies. All of the big stars have done TV at some time. You need to get back in the spotlight and these shows have big audiences. Dance X is the next stage of your brand and it will get you back in the spotlight."

I was in deep thought for a moment as I contemplated the move. In reality I had very limited choices and Sachin had a way of reading the industry.

"This has to work. I am trusting you, Sachin." I reply.

"I will schedule your first guest appearance and then depending on the success of the appearance and the audience reaction to you, then we will negotiate the terms of the permanent residency on the show."

I watched a few episodes of the show before my appearance. It was a mix of high octane dance routines and pantomime judges. Dev was the creator, executive producer and head judge. He had a fake colonial English accent, that defied the logic that he had rarely stepped foot out of India. Dev was proof that perception is nine tenths of reality for the masses. He was known for his cutting put downs and he was known as the nasty judge and the netizens had coined the name Dirty Dev for him. The other Judge was Gaurav, he had the role of being the young hot judge with the big muscles and six pack. In truth he was in his 30's but men never aged as women did in the industry. Sonakshi was the one that appealed to the young females and she provided the young generation's female voice. She was only 21 and watching her youthful exuberance made me envy her at times.

They wanted to add an older woman's voice to appeal to the housewives. It hurt my ego that I was being cast as some 'older' woman. After the birth of my son many young men would refer to me as a milf in my social media comments. I cringed with disgust at reading the comments but there was a dark part of me that found it flattering at the same time. I worked hard to maintain my slim figure after my pregnancy and at my age this required daily maintenance and work. I was an item number girl at my peak and it was one of the reasons they had coveted me as a star judge. Many men had fallen under the trance of my rhythmic hips over the years.

The truth was that financially this opportunity was coming at the right time. I didn't come from money but married into it and my money came from the work that I did. I was no stranger to the hustle. It had been a barren 24 months since my divorce and I had struggled to earn so this was an ideal opportunity as my savings dried up.

The show is held in theaters across the country in front of a live audience. This was the charm of the show as it connected with local audiences across the country in the remotest of regions.

I have been given a sari to wear by the costume artists. The sari is hanging up and I am to dress before they will come and set the costume and do my makeup.

I like to wear relaxed clothing when I am unlikely to get papped or seen. Today I had arrived in sweatpants, sports bra and a track jacket. I was rather dressed for the gym than a live show.

I had stripped down to my small thong and I was walking around barefoot in the privacy of my dressing room. I was always a bit of a nudist when I was alone and at the moment this suited me as my breasts had been sensitive since giving birth so I liked to give them as much freedom as possible. They had grown more painful in recent months. I had not breastfed since the birth and the small dribbles of milk had ceased recently. I had presumed I had stopped producing milk as I was not breastfeeding. The doctor had prescribed some painkillers but it was not really solving the problem. I would massage and fondle them to relive some of the pressure but it only offered momentary relief and would lead me to becoming aroused due to how sensitive they are.

I had 30 minutes before I was to be disturbed by one of the make up artists. I had locked the latch on the door to ensure I was not disturbed. I made it a rule on any set that anyone below producer or director level was to not make eye contact with me or speak to me. It was part of my brand and let everyone know immediately that I was a VIP.

I was reading through the notes for the show. It is heavily scripted and the producers control the narratives and story lines. There is some room for improvisation but we were on a leash.

All of a sudden, I heard the lock click and in rushed Dev with a piece of paper. He closed the door behind him. The latch did not seem to hold as he easily opened the door.

"Rima, I have the lines that you must say during the show. Why are the juniors so afraid to approach you?" He had been looking at the papers and not seen my naked form yet. In a panic I grabbed the pallu from the rack and wrapped it around me.

As he saw my naked body behind the see through pallu he locked the door behind him and double locked it. I had realized my mistake.

"What are you doing?" I asked trying to keep composed.

He came up close to me and handed me the paper.

His body was close to mine and he was uncomfortably in my space. I backed up slightly until my back was pressed against the wall. He was short, maybe 5'5 or 5'6. I was taller than him by at least two or three inches and if I had heels on, then a lot more. The shortest heel I wore was 3 inches. He was in his late 50's and he had a rotund belly.

His eyes bore a hole into my stiff and thick nipples which were visible through my pallu. They were in a constant state of being engorged and I knew just how obscene they would look to a man.

"The assistant producers and runners are too afraid to knock on your door. They get nervous around stars. So I came to deliver the message personally. I like to be hands on," he said as his hands snaked on to my hips under my pallu. He was playing with the waistband of my thong with his fingers from his right hand. I swallowed the saliva in my mouth.

"Dev, please," I begged. I wanted him to stop of his own accord and I did not want to cause a scene by screaming.

"Many men fantasize about what you wear under your clothes. I doubt many men would be creative enough to imagine just what a slut you are under those clothes," he said as his fingers followed the thin material of my thong in between my ass cheeks. His left hand moving up my stomach to caress and squeeze my breast. His fingers trap my thick nipple between them and he pinched my thick nipple.

My breasts were sensitive and I had to bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from moaning. My lip curled inwards as I bit it.

"Your nipples are begging to be sucked!"

It dawned on me that he would not stop unless I stopped him. My face went red with anger as I slapped him with all my might and pushed him off me.

He stumbled back a few steps.

"Do not dare try this behavior again or I will scream," I say as I try to keep my voice forceful but calm. I am shaking with rage.

He smirks in a dirty grin and the name Dirty Dev takes on a new meaning. He walks away and goes to the door.

"I will see you shortly," he says as he walks out of the door.

I lock the door and then double lock it as I lean back against the door out of breath. I am breathing heavily as I try to regain my composure. I have 15 minutes to get dressed before the costume and makeup artists arrive for the finishing touches.

I think about leaving but it was nothing I could not handle. It would hurt my reputation further if I dropped out of a show like this. It would be another opportunity for my in laws to harm my reputation.

As I begin to get dressed I notice that my thong is particularly damp. I had not anticipated this and I do not have a change of underwear with me. I cannot go back to my hotel room to change. I decide the best thing to do is try to dry my thong and wash my dirty parts before I change into the sari. I have a mini shower room adjoining my changing room. As I was washing myself between my legs, the scene replays in my head. I close my eyes as I imagine myself being there once more. I change the shower head setting so the water is more forceful and directed to my clit. I bite my fist from my other hand as I imagine Dev not stopping but instead unwrapping the pallu and biting my stiff nipples. I wonder how big his cock was inside that large bulge. Would I have sucked it for him if he forced me? Would he have fucked me against the wall? Or bent me over the dressing table?

In my early years of acting, many older producers, actors and directors had tried to make similar moves on me but it had been some time since I received such attention. Also my forced celibacy was perhaps making me react to this sick and twisted attention in this perverse way.

I lean back against the shower screen as I climax in a powerful orgasm. I dry off and shake the dirty thoughts from my mind.

I am introduced by the announcer and there are loud cheers as I walk on to stage.

*****

Dev

Rima has delicate features. Her luscious lips were a particularly seductive feature. She is strikingly beautiful and her body was made to be fucked. Curvy hips, sculpted ass, suckable tits. The nipples on her milk tankers were so large and engorged that they made me crazy. Even at her age she still made an old man's cock rock hard.

She had always been a fantasy for me and when I learned from her agent that she was looking for work I jumped at the opportunity to invite her on.

I regretted moving so quickly in the changing room though. I was shocked to find her pretty much naked but I should have played the long game rather than try to take her at the first opportunity. She may now want to quit the show and I will not have the opportunity to work my way into her panties.

Her ex-husband was a model, actor, nepo kid from some elite Bollywood family. I could not compete with him in the looks or money department. I needed more research before I approached her. The rumor was that he cheated on her while she was pregnant around two years ago. She still had large milk tankers but unfortunately it looked like they were no longer producing milk. Her body was still in impeccable shape.

She had a natural elegance and she belonged among the elites but circumstances had brought her into my sphere of influence. She had the audience in the palm of her hand as she waved at the cheering audience in a classy regal manner.

A woman like that at my side could make me a real mover and shaker in the industry. We would make a real power couple.

As the show went on, I began to realize she understood the dynamics of the show. She fit the role perfectly as she was able to provide a nurturing and helpful approach to the contestants. The producers gave a tight script to the judges and she landed every line.

The show had a little darling who was only 8 and someone that had been pushed by producers.

"Rima Madam, I am your biggest fan," she said to Rima. But Rima knew how to feign humility.

"Today you are the star and I am your biggest fan," she replied effortlessly. It wasn't even fucking scripted and she landed to a collective "aww" from the audience. She knew how to look classy to the audience.

Next came up a taxi driver from Delhi. He was never intended to be a finalist and was here for the comedic relief. He had a slip up and it ruined his routine.

"You are the taxi driver and not a dancer. Stop taking us for a ride with this 'dancing'," I remarked to a soundtrack of boos and some smatterings of laughter.

He made a pitiful sight and there was sympathy for him in the crowd as he was seen as an ordinary working class man.

"It takes a brave soul to dance in front of this amazing crowd. Please give a round of applause," Rima asks the crowd. I don't like how she is taking over the show. I can sense there is still some tension between us and she is enjoying showing me up. But I liked it as it added to the drama of the show and the crowd enjoyed a back and forth between the judges.

Before the applause ends Rima asks, "Who would like to see Mr. Dev dance?" The crowd erupts. I know that you must always give the crowd what they want even if it means I may be humiliated so I play her little game.

"Only if Miss Rima joins me," I reply. I give her a dirty grin and she swallows as she watches me.

"It seems as though I must teach Mr. Dev some manners and some manners," she replies and the crowd erupts in laughter as they enjoy this exchange.

I am nervous as I join her on stage. I was a performer in my younger years and quickly transitioned to choreographer and producer. I hoped for something manageable and then they played the song. A dance where the male had a few simple steps and the female did most of the work.

Rima was taking it seriously and she tightened her pallu to the side to keep it in place. She began to sway her hips to the music and she had me in a trance as I began to move back and forth to the music keeping a simple and steady rhythm.

I came up close to her as the steps allowed me to place my hands on her hips and whispered in her ear out of earshot of the microphones.

"I preferred you in just your thong," I said. I liked pushing her buttons and making her uncomfortable.

"You will have to use your imagination like all other men," she replied. For a brief moment, I began to wonder if she enjoyed this back and forth. Was the tension between us sexual? It would be more than I could dream of.

Rima spun out and she made some sight in her sari that revealed a deep cleavage. I had to be careful as there were several cameras pointed at us and it would ruin the show if I went too far and exposed myself for the pervert that I was.

I played out the remainder of the dance as I planned how to play myself into her bed.

The dance had a slow romantic rhythm and I liked that this allowed us to connect in a physical way on the dance floor.

We came together at the end as the dance from the movie and I held her as she leaned against my chest. Everyone stood up to give a standing ovation. We were both slightly out of breath as we came back to our seats.

"Wow. What a jodi," remarked Gaurav. I liked that he had said that as I wanted to reinforce this idea to Rima over time.

After the show we were having some drinks backstage as everyone raved about the show. There was a buzz after this show like I had never experienced before. The drinks are more for the junior staff and Rima only attended for a brief few minutes before leaving. She had a sense of arrogance about her and I felt that turned me on about her more than anything else. I wanted to break down that wall of arrogance and fuck her brains out.

I tried to find her in her changing room but she had already left back for the hotel. I went back to the hotel thinking I would need to wait to see her again.

But then I saw her by the elevator and I rushed to catch the same elevator. I did the swift brisk walk that you do when you are in a hurry but unable to run as it would draw too much attention.

Rima is in just her sweatpants and track jacket. She does not need to make an effort to get my cock hard.

She is startled as I sidled up next to her by the elevator.

"Dev," she said in shock to see me.

"Rima, is that you? I didn't recognize you," I asked in fake surprise.

There was a sense of insecurity in her reaction. Was she hoping I had followed her?

"It has been a long day and I have an early flight," she replied resigning herself to some elevator small talk.

The elevator arrived and we both got on.

She was by the controls and she pressed her floor. 31. She looked at me to ask what floor I needed without asking.

"32," I said and she pressed the button.

The elevator doors begin to close.

"I can't stop thinking about you in just that thong," I say as I watch for her reaction.

"Stop..." She begins her sentence but I am unable to let her finish. I shove her against the wall of the elevator. My hand goes past the loose waistband of her sweatpants and I grab her pussy. My fingers rubbing and manipulating her cunt lips. My mouth on hers as I immediately tongue kiss her. She is initially shocked frozen but then fights back and flails but as I manipulate her cunt and tease her clit through her sodden thong she soon melts. I feel her tongue wrap around mine.

She is giving in and it only emboldens me. I open her jacket and grope her fat milk tankers through her sports bra. These clothes were all so inconvenient in my current state of urgency.

I feel a moan from her that is muffled by my tongue down her throat. Her breasts are sensitive and I began to squeeze the thick flesh of her tits. Her fat thick nipples are poking against the sports bra and I can't help but begin to roll them between my finger and thumb.

The elevator is rising slowly. It is at floor 8 and slowly rising. I am on a clock.

She was not fighting me anymore. She was sucking on my tongue and even wrapping her own tongue around mine which caused an immense sensuality between us.

Her eyes were closed but they would flicker revealing her mesmeric hazel eyes with a hint of green. She was a beauty beyond compare. Her eyes were glassy with a look of lust.

Her hands were on my back and running through the back of my hair. She was at my mercy and there was not a moment to lose.

In a swift motion I pulled her sweatpants and thong down to mid-thigh. I unzipped my trousers and pulled out my cock.

I tried to fuck her but she clamped her thick dancer thighs around my cock in a death grip. Was she still fighting me?

But then I felt it. A subtle motion. She glided back and forth as my cock rubbed against the underside of her pussy. Then I felt a vibration in my mouth as she moaned. Her eyelids flickered once more to reveal her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she lost the battle with her lust.

A thighjob was better than nothing and I could sense this was a way to get into her pussy eventually.