Dancing, Sex, or Shopping

(This story takes place in Silicon Valley, California. The essence of this story is true. Jana exists, but her name has been changed. )

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Francis teaches ballroom dancing to adults. He's good looking, but not a GQ type of guy. He doesn't have a square chin, nor bulging biceps, because he is a dancer. He doesn't need well defined pecs. He doesn't have a 10-inch cock. Women don't give a shit for pecs. Or cocks that are so big you need a fistful of grease to get it in.

Women want a guy who understands that a woman's body is an erotic zone. All of it - from her ears, to her toes. Francis knows this: he is a lover and lovers don't need to look like gym rats. He doesn't hang out at hotel pools looking for curvy girls in bikinis. Women seek him out. Why? Because women are needy. They need to fuck, need to be eaten, to be worshipped. If you treat a woman like shit, you'll end up in a prison cell.

It's a biological thrill women get between their legs. It starts in the brain. And when a woman sees Francis she gets wet. Francis can be at the supermarket, or walking his dog. Francis attracts women. Many of his female students enter dance competitions, and that's how Francis met Jana. His manager assigned Jana to him because he knew Francis could get a woman aroused. He was taught to lead a woman onto the dance floor by taking her hand - not by putting your hand on her ass.

Jana was married to a senior VP of engineering and in Silicon Valley, he was earning over a million dollars a year. She drove a big Mercedes sedan, her own personal car. Jana knew nothing about ballroom, only what she'd seen on TV. She didn't need any sex therapy from Francis because she later told him she was always wet. It was because she kept a vibrating egg in her pussy when she drove. And probably up her ass as well. Francis knew about stuff like that. Vibrating eggs.

Jana was from Northern India. She was light skinned, full breasted and had long beautiful legs. Her thighs were magnificent. Her ass was plump. She had brown eyes, dark hair, and a quick wit. She was highly intelligent and an English major. These attributes are not important to most men, who are intimidated by smart women. But Francis had no tolerance for silly, fatuous girls. Regretfully Francis could not speak Hindi or Urdu.

Her husband had bought her a gift certificate for four dance lessons, and it was Francis' job to introduce the various dances to her. They danced fox trot, waltz, American ballroom tango, and the Latin dances.

If you must know, American ballroom tango is garbage. If you go to Buenos Aries and dance American tango you'll get tossed off the floor. Moreover, no woman will dance with you. Argentine tango is slow fucking to music, and you need to learn to romance your partner. A woman wears tango shoes to let you know she's primed for fucking. Shoes have straps that allow the lady to do swivels (ochos) without falling off. Ochos are literally figure eights.

Jana always wore a cashmere sweater to class, and with her big boobs, it was distracting. Although they spent some time learning fox trot, waltz, and those other silly dances, tango was how they spent most of their time. Francis did not get an erection, at least not visibly. He would stuff paper towels in his pants to visually diffuse erections. Jana had distracting boobs and Francis stuffed a lot of paper towels in his pants.

(For the layman, tango is danced very close. Tango is a courtship, the male making the offer and the female accepting. It's not necessary to push the female around, as she needs freedom for embellishments. In a sense the gentlemen allows the female to flaunt herself. To be sexy, whorish.)

Their lessons went by too fast, and they became friends. The four lessons were used in a week and then she extended onto a 200 lesson program. Jana would be with Francis at least a year.

To celebrate her new program, She invited Francis to lunch at her favorite Chinese restaurant in Palo Alto. The chefs were thrilled to see her because every time she threw a house party, this bunch catered the dinner. The food was perfect but expensive. She wore a pretty white blouse with a dark skirt that hugged her beautiful bottom. The blouse had tiny buttons down the front. When Jana and Francis got back to her house they sat for tea. Her home was a 4500 sq. ft. cliff hanger. Yeah, it was close to the edge of a steep drop, which in Los Gatos, is considered upscale fashionable.

She wanted to change, so asked Francis to unbutton her blouse. With her big chest, he did his best to undo the tiny buttons and finally she shrugged out of the blouse. She wore just her D-cup bra with her heavy boobs spilling out of the top. He was a gentlemen and did not consider it appropriate behavior to attack a woman after she pays for an expensive Chinese dinner.

She went into the bedroom, and returned wearing a tight t-shirt.

It's important to note that her inviting Francis to lunch was a major event. It meant she wanted a relationship and he had to met her family. She had two sons in high school. He met her husband, Rajesh. Rajesh was a great guy, very humble, and had a sharp mind. Literally a VIP. Rajesh's job required him to travel to silicon semiconductor foundries all over the world. He'd be in Texas, in Japan, in Scotland. He'd always be gone. But still, Jana was not about to use her home for sex. She used Francis' apartment. One problem, she needed to bring Rani with her. Rani was her unmarried close friend and was Jana's excuse for going out. Going shopping with Rani. To Bloomingdale's. Jana had never cheated on her husband.

She always visited Francis in the mornings, at 10:30. Usually Rani would go to Starbucks for coffee. Jana's kids were at high school, and she needed to pick up the kids at 2 PM. She arrived at Francis' apartment, wearing a sweater. She always wore a bra because of the kids. But as soon as she sat down she reached behind, unclipped her bra and stuffed it into her handbag. Her nipples were big, and stiff from expectation.

They needed to chat for a while, so not to appear too eager. She spoke about small stuff while he nodded and stared at her boobs. Once she finished talking, that was his signal.

Francis told me, "I drew her close to me and kissed her. Her lips were soft and moist, her mouth open with her tongue out. We kissed and kissed, as I massaged her boobs, feeling her wonderful nipples. Her legs were spread apart and I massaged her thighs. Moving up to her crotch, she was soaked.

"I lifted her sweater over her breasts exposing her wide aureoles and big nipples. She made a feeble attempt to cover up, but I expected her to do that. I played with her nipple with my thumb and forefinger, moving it around causing her to squirm. I put my mouth onto her nipple and sucked, causing her hips to undulate. She always did that when she was really aroused. I slipped my fingers into her cunt; I used my lips as a sexual vacuum. She was already close to coming, and while I sucked her nipples she had her first orgasm ..."

Francis usually didn't discuss his affairs with women. Men sometimes like to boast about how they fucked some poor girl. Francis didn't need to boast, in fact, Francis played it down. Francis knew how to "hang" orgasms. That means he could extend a woman's orgasm for minutes and minutes while she howled and screamed. He could fuck a woman and when she started to orgasm, he'd drop down and suck her cunt. Her clit would be swollen and he would just latch on to it. Like a leech.

Jana could orgasm easily because she was already wet from the vibrating egg. She came again and again. Her cunt was shaved, her lips slippery and wet. With her labia open and her big breasts hanging free, Francis wanted to get his camera. He made a mental note to do videos next time.

I just listened in awe. Francis was an artist.

He continued, "She reached for my jeans and unzipped my fly. My cock was leaking from precum. but she grabbed it tight. She attempted to jack me off, but I held her arm. My cock is very thick and she could barely wrap her long fingers around it ..."

Where was Rani when all this was going on? She had come back and was sitting at the computer, trying to keep a low profile. But watching Jana play with Francis' big cock was getting to her. Watching is OK, but it's not the same as being fucked or eaten. Or even masturbating. She figured Jana wouldn't mind if she took a few video frames with her cell phone. Just as a souvenir.

Francis was fascinated by what Jana's fingers were doing, manipulating his cock like kneading dough, making bread. He wasn't watching Rani. Jana was breathing heavy and wanting more, whispering something to Francis. He nodded, laid Jana on her back and put his mouth back between her legs. This time he held onto her ass cheeks and stuck his thumb up her ass. She groaned and wiggled like a hooked fish. Her sphincter muscles easily relaxed for his thick thumb. Francis kept reaming her ass, rotating his thumb, while he had his lips clamped to her clit. She began a low growling, which turned into tearful moaning. She was crazed with lust.

Rani, meanwhile, had her hand under her skirt, fingering her pussy. Rani had a big cunt, with meaty lips. She could fist herself when she was really aroused, but she made too much noise. With Jana and Francis having their fun she'd try to be quiet, so she diddled her clit while her thighs were getting drenched. Jana had so many orgasms her mouth was dry. Francis never seemed to get tired.

The months flew by.

Francis had fucked Jana so many times over the past year, with Rani continuously masturbating in the guest bedroom, Jana was not utilizing her vibrating egg as much. She loved being fucked in the ass; a few times Francis shoved a 12 inch dildo up her hole to keep her from getting bored.

Towards the end of her dance lessons, Jana wanted to enter a dance competition. Francis needed to turn her over to another instructor. Francis didn't give a shit about competing. But they kept fucking in his apartment. Rani, meanwhile, had bought herself a rotating vibrator that churned away, keeping her in a state of insatiable euphoria. Francis also got Rani a remotely controlled vibrator which she loved. He almost drove her crazy and he had to call 911 to rush her to ER. The ER nurse didn't believe it was vulvitis but hysteria.

Jana's dancing, with her classic beauty, became a sensation in India. The competition had been telecast and Jana had won second place overall. Francis attended the competition, with Jana's husband, Rajesh. He was so proud of his wife when she danced, looking so sexual. But she wore too much makeup. She could have won first place but her boobs were too big. Her competition gown cost $4500. She had inserted the vibrating egg up her ass for good luck.

Jana's partner was an Asian guy, a very good dancer, but he didn't have a big cock. When you compete, judges don't care about the size of your cock. Well, maybe the female judges do. On second thought, the male judges do too.