Not Your Mother's Apostles

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I suppose you Biblical scholars out there recognize these names from the Bible, but that's not who we'll be talking about here. These are four guys who were home schooled by Jeannie, one of my dance students. Actually they were kicked out of school for fighting. The boys were the most stupid fucks I've ever met. They were a year apart. Luke, at 22, was the best looking. Matthew was retarded. John and Mark were both arrested for trying to invite preteens out for dinner and a movie. The reason I liked Luke was simple: he had talent as a dancer. I could show Luke a few steps in the merengue and he'd do a whole routine. He was good enough for "Dancing With The Stars". Except Luke wasn't a star, he had a big cock and some bare bones talent. But otherwise Luke was as dumb as a doorknob.

Jeannie is a wonderful woman, soft spoken, and had a big ass. Her ass was firm, yet very plump. She loved being fucked in the ass. She had had four boys, all of them retards, so she wanted no more children. Anal was her choice of reception, and we had spent many pleasant afternoons with her bent over my desk, while I plunged my cock into her receptive rectum. She was deeply religious and went to mass every morning. I doubt she mentioned being sodomized to the priest. Maybe she did. She went to mass like a good Catholic and didn't want to trouble the bishop with lurid details about her chronic masturbation. She lied and admitted sex stuff was dirty and she didn't do anything nasty like touching herself.

But Jeannie and I go way back. I was in the college band, and Jeannie played the flute. She had thick lips, and she could triple tongue like crazy. At that time she was a virgin, a useless impediment to her popularity. We had long talks about sex, not the ramifications of it, but how soon would she get fucked by someone. She was a horny girl, and often keep me in stitches about her masturbation habits. She began masturbating when she was eleven, along with her friend Debbie, lying side by side in bed.

We dated occasionally and I introduced her to anal sex. At first I used an 8 inch dildo, because I have an impressive cock. I've known women to pass out when they first look at it. Eventually Jeannie got used to the dildo and then graduated to a 12-inch rigid plastic cock. Which of course led to my plunging my cock up her big ass.

She came to me one day with tears in her eyes. "I want to learn to dance so bad. My husband just wants to go camping with the Scout troop. He has no desire to learn to dance." Her husband was a pot bellied asshole who had prostate cancer and wasn't expect to last out the year. His being an asshole took precedent over his prostate.

Yeah, all her boys were Scouts, but I didn't know the Boy Scouts accepted retards. These guys took a week to learn to tie a square knot. I asked Francis to give Jeannie a free lesson and get back to me. Francis was my best salesman. He knew his way around women. His pheromones were so powerful, that the checkout girl in the supermarket would finger herself ringing up his grocery order.

Let me tell you about Francis. He was an Italian, and came from a musical family. Every Saturday his mother would listen to the Metropolitan Opera on the radio. He spoke Italian of course, but he didn't date Italian girls. Francis learned to play the piano so he sat in with a small jazz group at a club in Boston on Saturday nights. Of course women flocked to him because he looked like Valentino - slicked back black hair. Piercing dark eyes. A nice mouth, perfect teeth. Yeah, he could kiss too. Francis went through dance training with an Arthur Murray teacher. She was from New York, and gave Francis a blow job every night before they went home.

After her trial lesson, Francis told me Jeannie was a natural dancer. Of course, he said that about everyone, but Jeannie was special. She lived a hard life with four dumb ass boys and a dying husband. When you spoke to Jeannie you felt you were speaking to a ghost, because she had this vacant stare. A ghost with a big ass. I specifically told Francis not to fuck around with Jeannie. She was a good woman. I doubt she could deal with Francis' licking her pussy on her dance lesson.

One day Luke came to me and said he wanted to be a dance instructor. Now, Luke could already dance pretty good, good enough to get by.

"Luke," I said, "We get lots of requests for male escorts. It pays well and all you have to do is take the lady to dinner. She pays. If she wants you to fuck her, she pays extra. How about it?"

Luke looked surprised. He knew he was equipped for the job, cock-wise, but his social skills sucked. He had an 8th grade education. His mother had taught him nothing about hygiene, sex, or how to eat pussy. But he was a handsome guy, over 6 feet tall. A great smile. But dumb.

"Well ..." Luke was thinking. "OK, I guess ..."

"I'll enroll you in a Dale Carnegie sales course. They'll teach you how to sell yourself. " Luke liked that.

"But they won't teach you how to eat pussy ..." I added as an afterthought. At least they didn't used to. Maybe now they do.

So Luke agreed, and in 12 weeks Luke was a changed man. When I saw him coming, he hugged me and asked me how I was doing, as if he really cared.

"What's with the hug, Luke? No handshakes?"

"Naw, today it's different. Everybody at mass is hugging everybody ..."

"But, Luke, you hug a woman without her permission and she'll report you to ..."

"OK, I get it. But do you have someone I can practice with? Someone I can take to dinner?"

Luckily my sister was available. She was a Smith College graduate, spoke four languages, but thought all men were jerks. Obviously she is not married. "Marie would like to go out with you. She told me."

What she really told me that if Luke wasn't so dumb, she'd like to go out with him. I could book him and Marie for an evening out on the town. For practice. First, he'd have to take Marie to dinner. He rented a car from Hertz, and picked her up at 8 PM. They were going to the Ritz Carlton for dinner. At 9 PM I got a call from Marie. "Where did you find that jerk?" Marie expected a brain surgeon with a big cock. That was her ideal man. Mutually exclusive? Maybe.

Let's meet Mrs. Anthony. A beautiful busty woman, she married a Greek who had a restaurant down in the theatre district. Greeks don't allow their wives to fool around, and specifically not getting butt fucked by the chef. Especially during peak dinner hours. He finally divorced her after he caught her giving the kitchen crew blowjobs.

Mrs. Anthony asked me to teach her Greek dancing , and that's how I met her. She was a pain in the ass. She was always calling, asking if I knew any single guys. Or even married guys. Or even a transgender. She was sexy if you like size 16 women. I finally called her, giving her Luke's attributes - handsome, good dancer, speaks well. I left out the part about being dumb. She was excited, and we set her up with Luke. She wore a scoop neck blue evening dress studded with sequence. She had touched up her hair and looked 35, instead of 55. She wore bright red lipstick. With her huge boobs she looked like an old stripper. But Luke was too dumb to care. He wasn't going to marry her. The booking paid $500 and if he fucks her, that's extra. Mrs. Anthony was thrilled.

***

I asked Francis about Jeannie. "How's she doing?" They had just finished her lesson.

Francis grinned and said, "She loves the tango ..."

I got pissed. When Francis dances tango with a woman, she's no good for anything else. She'll go home and masturbate, forgetting about eating dinner. She'll neglect her kids. Let them go hungry.

"Francis, What did I tell you? Didn't I tell you Jeannie is a nice woman? A special friend?"

"Yeah, but she kept humping me. I didn't want her to be embarrassed ..."

"So what happened?"

"She's in the ladies' room."

I didn't want to guess what Jeannie was doing in the ladies room. "How long has she been in there?"

"About an hour."

"Do you know she is being charged for that time? We are charging her to masturbate?"

Francis looked sorry. Apologetic.

Suddenly she reappeared. Jeannie looked a little flushed, but happy. "Thanks for the lesson, Francis. I learned a lot." She and Francis walked out to the reception desk. She was booked again for tomorrow.

***

Luke called me about 11 PM, and asked me if we take credit cards. "Luke, usually it's cash. We're not licensed as an escort service." He hung up.

When the Cambridge police called me at 3 AM, they told me Luke was being booked for reckless driving. Driving so as to endanger, they said. Mrs. Anthony was apparently giving Luke a blowjob while he was driving her home. Mrs. Anthony was not arrested. I had to go down to the station and post bail to get Luke out. I added the bail money to Mrs. Anthony's account.

"What the fuck happened, Luke? I send you out as an escort ..."

"Gee, Boss, I'm sorry. We had dinner and she wanted to go dancing. We went to the Exeter Lounge and had a few drinks. Guys kept coming over and saying hello to Mrs. Anthony. She seemed to know everybody."

"So??????????"

"She told me she used to be a hooker. She worked the Combat Zone ..."

"So did you fuck her?"

"Are you kidding?"

"What's with her sucking your cock?"

"She wanted to go parking along the Charles river. We were on the way ..."

I called Jeannie the next day and told her about Luke. "Why was he arrested?" she asked.

"His date was performing oral sex on him - while he was driving."

"You mean a blow job?" She surprised me. I didn't realize she knew those words - with going to mass every morning.

"Well, yeah ..."

"It's my fault", she cried. "I tried to teach Luke right and wrong, and now he's getting blow jobs ..."

"Jeannie, it's not anybody's fault. Luke is a good looking guy and -"

"Will Francis be able to take me earlier today. I need to book a double lesson."

"Sure".

She had a double lesson with Francis. I didn't go into the ballroom, but I heard moans and then stillness and then more moaning. There was no music. Just moaning. I looked through the glass panel and saw Jeannie lying on her back, her legs apart. Francis was kneeling in front of her. Was he praying for her? I looked closer. No, he was eating her. Her legs were spread open and she was not wearing stockings. But she was still wearing her dance shoes. Her fingers clutched Francis' head, pulling him closer. She was leaking profusely. It looked like she squirted or pissed, I couldn't be sure. There was a puddle on the ballroom floor. I forgot to inform Francis she like being fucked in the ass.

Luke was in the lobby. He had come by to drop off cash. He was at least smart enough to bring Mrs. Anthony to an ATM. He looked proud of himself. "OK, boss, I'm ready for my next booking ..."

In today's world what really counts is not how many lines of code you can write, but how you lick pussy.