Its All In Your Head

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Eventually what is in your head does not match reality.
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It's all in your head by JR Freddy

I called for a ballroom dance lesson. The lady on the other end's accent was thick.

"You don't worry about shoes now, just come in for a lesson," Janus said.

The following afternoon, I did. Her hair was pulled back and she was short. With big brown eyes and ears like small sea shells. I wanted to kiss the back of her long swan neck.

"Nice to meet you Jackson, now we tango walk to a tango song, okay?" Janus said.

Her feet were small and snugged into furry dance shoes with a leopard pattern. Her perfume was almost citrus. I touched her hands; they were cold from maybe a soda can. She cracked a smile. I could see she was thinking of other things.

"What are you thinking about?" she said.

"I was about to ask you," I said.

"I am the teacher, you ask me just about dance lesson, okay?"

When I like a woman, I often imagine being with her in a dim lit restaurant. One with wine colored carpet, and massive fish tanks that bubble underneath the chatter. Where she can sit across from me and her teeth, inside of her smiles, are whiter than the table cloth.

"Yes Ma'am," I said.

We tango walked for forty-five minutes and I signed up for twenty more lessons. Three weeks into the lessons, I practiced Bulgarian phrases. I would walk in and poorly deliver her native language in nonsense. She giggled from her belly over them.

Before the lesson, I sat in a blue chair, changing into my dance shoes. Janus walked past me with a gust that tasted like watermelon bubblegum. A woman next to me in fine clothes, wearing a fresh perm, smiled with a surgical enhanced face and piercing eyes, then opened her mouth towards Janus.

"Where the hell are my shoes, I ordered them over a week ago," the woman said.

I watched Janice's Brown Bulgarian eyes grab onto the floor boards. She held in her pain and responded. "Please; I will check for you, we will work on this, okay?" she said.

I wanted to curl up my first and knock that bitch into a cast back to her poodles. But I breathed through my nose and walked away.

"Are you okay, you looked like you were having a seizure over in the corner?" Janus said.

"I get weird when I get emotional," I said.

"Why did you get emotional?" she said.

"The way that rich bitch spoke to you got me upset," I said.

"Jackson, this is a business and we did mess up on her order, it was our fault."

"You were upset, Janus."

"Yes, but I am a big girl, you don't worry about me, okay?"

"Sure."

"I can take care of myself big boy, hmm?"

Two more months went by and I learned three tango moves before and after my tango walks. I gave up on learning Bulgarian. And I had a date with a blonde thirty-something named Debra; but I did not imagine the dim lit restaurant with Debra. Instead, it was more of a large cherry coke at a taco bell with edible strawberry panties on her, some purplish pot, and a night of screwing to the late-night eighty's movie marathon.

"I have a date tonight," I said.

"I am glad to hear...who is the lucky girl?" Janus said.

"I don't know."

"You don't know."

"Nope."

"Must not be true love, hmm?"

I wanted to palm Janus's cheeks and get close to her eyelids that cut across the tops of her eyes magnificently. As if her eyes where smiling better than her smile ever could and there are two of them.

"Why you look at me like that?" she said.

I did it. I placed my finger pads underneath both sides of her seashell ears. Her skin was warm; warmer than her icy hands. I tilted my chin and pinched her lips with my lips. She spoke; and I interrupted her thick accent with my tongue. Everything was wet and mint flavored. Her excited voice inside her neck, vibrated my finger pads and electrocuted my nervous system as if my finger pushed in a bare light socket.

"I can lose my job for this," she said.

"I am sorry," I said.

"You are sorry, hmm?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You sorry enough to pay my fucking bills big boy?"

"I would, yes."

Maybe she saw it in my soul; a longing to pay her bills. A longing to sit across from someone like her and watch her consume hot hush puppies followed by cool red wine. A longing to slither around her flesh and become entangled like a pretzel, with both of us in dried-hot silk pajamas sort of watching the silliest movies ever made. And a longing to carry her aching body to a bubble bath after her typical nine hours of teaching dance.

She pointed to the dressing room.

"Go in there," she said.

I entered the dressing room. The temperature dropped about four degrees like a small freezing hotel room. Invisible bodies hung from hanger push carts, each glowing with little emeralds and diamonds. She followed in, closed the door and locked it.

"Sit, please," she said.

I saw more of her thighs than ever before. She wore a black button-down shirt that met at the creases of her upper thighs. For the first time, her leg muscles bounced with her swagger. She viciously pulled her hair back and bit down on a hair tie. In one fluid swoop, her hair was pinned back and almost resembled polished metal.

"Off," she said.

I just took my pants off and then my boxers. The beige couch was cold. A draft from the ghostly A/C whooshed in between my legs and up my spine. I remembered to swallow; it had been a while. She straddled me and the vertical center of her shirt came loose. I opened it further and saw her firm white tits. She slid down me and I was inside her. So many hours of dance and purposeful separation and now this, where every surfaced part of my erection rubbed her. It was the first time I saw her cute belly button. I sucked on her breasts as she bounced up and down.

"You wanted this for so long time, big boy?"

"You have no idea."

I danced with her for months on guard, miserable, suppressing myself as we followed rules of the trade: steps and knee bends and pivots, all with perfect posture. But here, her perfect cold ass cheeks landing in my palms like two cold friends. I was finally accepted and on the other side of all of it. She spoke with her thick accent as I stopped her wet tongue with mine. I went numb and came up inside her. The noise and vibrations from her throat destroyed every demon that ever clung to my conscious over the years. I was innocent for a moment and part of a higher club.

"Are you okay?" she said.

"I am. Feel like going to Taco Bell?"


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3 Comments
JRFreddyJRFreddyalmost 4 years agoAuthor
I agree with dickhead

I agree with dickhead. Started a new one. (good advice though)

OvercriticalOvercriticalalmost 4 years ago
Hardly worth a comment

2* for trying. People sound like stick figures talking. Perhaps the author is using English as a second language. People are not close to being real and I think further work with this plot is a waste of time.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
My 2 cents

A good start to a story, but too short I think. Also, I think this belongs in erotic couplings more than romance. The characters need to be brought out more and made interesting. Sex will be in the story line, but I also look for the story and how they got there. I gave you 3 stars because you need to work on your writing. I appreciate your efforts and putting yourself out there for people to read your work.

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