Dance Class Partnersbycaligula97236©
James met Carrie at an evening dance class offered by the university recreation department. He was 18. She was 32. He was just starting his second semester as a college freshman. She had just returned to college after divorcing her husband. It seemed they had absolutely nothing in common, except their isolation and loneliness.
James lived on campus, but did not have the type of personality that made him popular. He was interested in the wrong things, he was outspoken when he should have been quiet, and too quiet when he should have spoken up. The other dorm residents dismissed him after a few days, ignoring him and cutting him off to fester in isolation.
James had a roommate who was studying physics and totally anti-social. There was nothing for them to talk about, and before long, he felt uncomfortable even being in the same room with the sullen math-head. He returned to his room to sleep, but that was it. He spent his free time wandering around campus or around the college town, full of resentment at having been shut out of the university's social life.
James' sexual urges were at their peak, but that only led to more frustration. He was not the kind of guy that women his age found attractive, even though there was nothing wrong with his physical appearance. He just did not have the self-confidence and other personality traits young women find desirable, so the attractive 18-year old females all around James completely ignored him.
James thought about how to deal with his situation. He felt that if he could just find a girlfriend, most of his other problems would straighten themselves out. Throughout the fall he tried various clubs and even a couple of church groups, but always got the cold shoulder because it was obvious he was there for the wrong reasons. Finally, after Christmas Break, he decided to try learning how to dance. Maybe dancing would help, because he knew women like to dance more than guys do and dancing was a good way to meet them. If he could dance, perhaps he'd have better luck...
Carrie had worked as a waitress for the last couple of years following her divorce. She had drifted in and out of church groups. However, she was faced with the stigma of being a divorced woman and couldn't stomach listening to doctrine written by anti-social men sitting alone in caves in the desert 2000 years ago. She couldn't picture being a good Christian wife to some patriarchal wannabe. Already she had endured more than her share of unpleasantness in her first marriage. By the time she met James she was alone, and had been for quite some time.
Unlike James, Carrie really had no good reason for taking the dance class. She knew how to dance just fine, and hardly expected to meet a partner there. She just went, mostly because she had nothing better to do.
Most of the people at the class were couples, so James and Carrie paired off by default. At first they didn't see much in each other. She struggled not to roll her eyes at his horrible performance with the steps, while he was somewhat intimidated by his older dance partner. Still, she showed him some moves and worked with him that first night in class. He made some limited progress as he struggled to please the only woman who had paid any attention to him since he started college.
During the following class they paired off again. James had not realized it, but throughout the week he had been vaguely looking forward to seeing Carrie. Perhaps she was 14 years older than him. Perhaps her lined face and cynical expression were not points in her favor. However, the fact remained that she had been the only female over the past week who had talked with him for more than a few seconds.
Carrie's interest in James began during the second class. He seemed so immature and helpless, so naïve, and yet, there was something about him that attracted her.
After the class was over she decided to talk to him a bit. Being a waitress, she was experienced with making small talk. In Carrie's life, small talk often led to bigger tips, because if a customer looked upon her as a friend, chances were he'd open his wallet a bit more.
When they stepped outside, it was bitterly cold and they really had nothing to do. She bought him a soda. A soda. Ha! When she had been 18 she could have bought a beer, because back then it was legal to drink at 18. Well at least legal to drink beer, at any rate. The law had since changed, and her companion would have to settle for soda.
James was in no hurry to say goodnight because he did not want to go back to his room and deal with his unpleasant roommate. He didn't know where else he might go once he said goodbye to Carrie, but he didn't want to go back to the dorm. She picked up on that. Suddenly, on the spur of the moment, she decided not to say goodnight. Instead she asked him if he would like to go over to her place for a late dinner.
At first James wasn't sure he wanted to go to Carrie's place. She seemed OK, and was reasonably attractive, but she was so...old. Really, she was almost twice his age. Also, there was something kind of weird and creepy about her. However, the bitter cold and unpleasant dorm situation convinced James that Carrie's place was his best option he had for the evening.
Carrie had a small house to herself. It was a guesthouse built behind a much larger residence that belonged to the mother of her supervisor at work. In exchange for her very cheap rent, Carrie looked in on the older woman every afternoon, helped her clean up, and picked up her mail and groceries. The guesthouse was old and looked like it needed some upkeep, but it was a pretty good set-up for someone who earned only slightly more than the minimum wage.
When James entered the small house, he noticed how old all the furniture was. It turned out that all the furniture were items that had been discarded by her boss or his mother and relegated to the guest house. It seemed kind of depressing to James, the dark house, the battered mismatched furniture, and Carrie's empty existence. But then, was his isolated existence in the dorm any better?
Another thing James noticed Carrie's house was camera and photography equipment. Carrie explained that she had majored in art before she met her ex-husband and had specialized in photography. Carrie showed James some of her photos. Some were still-life pictures, some were landscapes, and some were of people doing day-to-day things. Apparently she specialized in black and white photography, because most of the pictures were not in color. Carrie's photos were quite good, but all of them had dark shading and a rather sinister overtone. She loved macabre topics; urban ruins, stands of dead trees, abandoned buildings, graveyards. James could tell that Carrie was fascinated with death. Then, for the first time, he noticed another detail about her. She had several scars crossing her left wrist. At some point in her life she had attempted to commit suicide.
He looked around the room again. The walls were covered with old pictures, miscellaneous hanging items such as small tapestries and display plates, and a few larger versions of Carrie's photos.
Then he noticed something that stood out. Among the items hanging on the wall, in a corner near the window, hung a leather paddle. The implement was about the size of a ping-pong paddle but slightly narrower and quite cruel-looking. James' heart skipped a beat. Did that paddle belong to Carrie, or had it been hanging there before she moved in?
James was very unnerved, but at the same time he was fascinated. It was obvious Carrie had a very dark soul. He could not feel safe around her, but that feeling of danger suddenly made him feel very much alive.
Carrie served James a rather odd meal. It was obvious that she was into health food, because what James got was a plate of Tabouli, a Russian-style salad of diced carrots and cabbage, and a bowl of tangerine and mango pieces for desert. She also offered her guest a glass of wine, which he took. The wine wasn't much, just enough to let calm his nerves but not enough to affect his performance. At that moment Carrie really wasn't sure what she wanted from James, but at the very least she was hoping for a round of sex following the meal.
As they ate, Carrie sent unspoken signals to James that she wanted him to take her. However, he was oblivious, which led her to suspect he might be a virgin. A few questions about his high school relationships confirmed her suspicions. James had never had sex with anyone. Great. Now I've got to teach him how to do that as well, she thought to herself.
Once they finished their meal, Carrie turned on some New Age music and sat on her threadbare sofa. She made it clear she wanted him to sit next to her. He nervously chatted about his classes while she tried to give him seductive looks. James was not quite so dense that he didn't understand what she wanted, but he didn't have a clue how to proceed.
Carrie began by running her fingers through his hair and up his forearm while he continued to talk nervously. Her directness unsettled him, but his young body reacted to the touches. He began stiffening under his pants. She noticed, and he knew that she had noticed.
James was terrified. Carrie put her hand on his chest and could feel his heart pounding. She gently kissed him on the mouth. She was only the second person in James' life he had ever kissed. The first girlfriend he had kissed had been when he was 16.
Carrie took the lead as she worked both herself and her guest up to a state of arousal. She kissed him passionately and allowed him to kiss her neck. He still was troubled by the lines beginning around her face, but pushed that thought aside as he felt her body pressing against his. She guided his hand to touch her breasts. He realized that underneath her sweater she wasn't wearing a bra. His penis stiffened upon learning that detail about her.
Carrie passed her hand over the crotch of James' pants and touched the tip of his penis, now furiously pressing against the cloth. Then she leaned back and pulled off her sweater, leaving her body naked from the waist up.
James heart pounded even more furiously, because never before had he see a woman's breasts up close. Carrie's body was thin and somewhat scrawny, and her breasts were not ideal by the standards of the magazines he was used to looking at. What James had in front of him was a real woman, not a playmate. She wasn't perfect, but she was the real thing. Her breasts sagged slightly and were very soft to the touch. He began kissing them, and the softness and warmth of her chest more than made up for its imperfect appearance.
Carrie began unbuckling his belt and struggled to get his zipper undone.
"James, lift up for a second."
He lifted up enough to allow her to pull down his pants and underwear. She slipped off his shoes and pulled his pants right off, leaving him naked from the waist down. She massaged his thighs and tickled his testicles before gently squeezing his very hard penis.
They stood up to finish getting undressed. James unsnapped Carrie's slacks and pushed them down to her ankles. He slipped his hand under her panties and fondled her bottom. His glance happened to fall upon the leather paddle hanging only a few feet away from him. Seeing that cruel-looking implement, and feeling his lover's bare bottom, filled him with overwhelming sexual desire. He pushed her panties to her knees. They fell to her ankles and she stepped out of them. She lifted up the bottom of James' shirt and pulled it over his head. Now both of them were naked in her living room.
Carrie was aroused and quite wet. Her body badly missed sex. She hadn't been with anyone since the previous summer and that last experience hadn't gone well for her. James would be different, a completely blank canvas she could paint with her own needs. She knew what to expect, but he really didn't.
She lay back on her sofa and pulled him over her. He was very clumsy from total lack of experience. He didn't even really know how to get inside her and kept missing his target.
"James...no...not there...lower...no...too low...wait... here...wait...just stop...stop...let me help..."
She guided him inside her and he began thrusting. Quickly he forgot the embarrassment of getting started as he moved inside her and pumped semen into her body. Oh it felt good...so good. She climaxed as well, quietly gasping with pleasure and relief.
When they finished and separated, Carrie got up to grab a wet washcloth and clean off both herself and her lover. As she walked to the bathroom he studied her naked backside. From the back her thin figure was quite attractive. He noticed an interesting detail, she had no tan marks on her body at all. She returned to the living room with the washcloth. Naked she looked quite a bit younger than she looked when she was dressed.
A flash of sexual desire swept through James and she approached him and gently cleaned off his penis with the wet washcloth. She then unceremoniously waded it up and threw it in the direction of her washing machine.
As he sat in his lover's dimly lit living room James realized he had absolutely no desire to go back to his dorm room that night. It wasn't the thought of facing the bitter January cold to walk back to campus. It was his discovery that he felt much more at home in the living room of his strange lover than he did in the dorm with his creepy math-head roommate. She picked up on that. He would be nervous about staying overnight, but she could tell that was what he wanted to do. Rather than say anything, she would just let it happen. He would fall asleep in her arms, she would cover him up, and they would see what the next day brought them.
Carrie joined James on the sofa and put her arm around him. She encouraged him to touch and explore her breasts. He gently ran his fingertips over her nipples and watched the reaction of her soft skin. He noticed the scars on her left wrist a second time. He wondered how long ago she had tried to kill herself and how close she came to actually succeeding. It was a mystery, but one that he knew better than to pursue.
For the first time in his life James spent the night in bed with a woman. They made love a second time in her bedroom. The freshman was not nearly as clumsy now that he knew how to properly get inside. He wasn't perfect, but he made up in energy and enthusiasm what he lacked in experience. Carrie felt very different when she was with him. It was nice to have her body be desired by an 18-year old. However, she had to work the next day and he had to go to class, so they quickly went to sleep.
The next morning she was up at 5:00. Her restaurant opened at 7:00, but because she was shift manager, she had to be there at 6:00 to let in the other employees. She didn't bother to wake up James. She simply left him a note telling him to grab some breakfast before going out and make sure he locked the door. She left a schedule of when she would be home if he wanted to call her later in the week. She wasn't worried about James stealing anything out of her place. She was a good judge of character and figured he could be trusted.
James was very surprised to wake up alone in his lover's house. The silence of her place contrasted with the constant racket of the noisy dorm and was a nice change. He got up, and not bothering to get dressed, read her note. He found the casual way she treated their relationship very strange. It was clear she liked him, but the tone of her note implied: "if you feel like calling me, here's when I'm available. It's your choice whether you want to see me again or not. If you want out of the relationship, I'm giving you the chance to get out, no strings attached."
He went to the kitchen to see what she had to eat. Hmm... whole grain bread, unsweetened yogurt, buckwheat, oatmeal, fruit...nothing particularly appealing. He drank some juice and decided to have a quick look around before leaving the tiny house.
The first thing that James wanted to find was any item that could give him any clues about her past. He looked for some pictures or albums, but found absolutely nothing lying out in the open, not a single photo of her or anyone else. There was no mail, no bills, no pay stubs, no receipts. He began to wonder if Carrie was even the woman's real name, because he had no proof other than what she had told him. Her college textbooks were sitting on a shelf with her notebooks, but the only clue they gave him was what she was studying.
There was one tantalizing item in the living room that raised more questions than it answered, the leather paddle. Why was it hanging there, out in the open, on her wall like that? What clue could it give him about her? Did she use it on her lovers? Did she want her lovers to use it on her?
He took down the implement and ran his fingers over the leather. For some reason the paddle excited him. He gently touched it to his bottom, trying to imagine what a good smack would feel like. He swatted himself a couple of times, first imagining Carrie using the leather on him, but then fantasizing about using the implement on her. He imagined her thin, attractive bottom, stretched tight and colored pink from discipline. So which would it be? His bottom or hers?
James felt that he understood why Carrie was giving him the chance to get out of the relationship. This paddle meant something; either she would expect him to use on her, or she would be using it on him. The thought and the mystery were frightening and exciting.
James did not want out of the relationship at all. Quite the contrary, his mysterious lover, a woman 14 years older than he was, captivated his imagination and desires. He would indeed call her, spend more time with her, and get some of his questions answered.
James returned to his dorm long enough to get cleaned up, change, and go to class. His fellow residents noticed a change in his behavior. He breezed in and out completely unconcerned about what the others thought of him. Screw 'em. He no longer needed or wanted their approval. Nor did he care any longer about his sullen, loser roommate. He had other things on his mind and the freshmen surrounding him no longer mattered in his thoughts.