"And dip" my dancing instructor said as I looked right up his nose. We righted ourselves and he looked me straight in the eye. I knew that look. It’s the one where men want to get you into bed look. "Hells Bells" I said to myself, your 45 years old, married, 5 kids, 2 dogs and family car and colour your hair. "Get a grip" "I wish I could" my alter ego said.
He wasn’t handsome, just vaguely good looking and I think he dyed his hair. But those baby blue eyes were killers.
"Concentrate Mrs. Forbes" he said and I swirled around him our backs touching. I could smell his aftershave, one of those modern musky smells.
"Turn, lunge and catch my arm" he said "Very good Mrs. Forbes" I was putty in his hands, smooth hands. I don’t think he worked in the yard on weekends. My hands in his looked so old and callused. I like that in a man, nice hands. He smiled at me and he had those alluring laughter lines at the corners of his eyes. Just wrinkled enough to be rugged, I thought.
He must have all his students swooning. I bet he has loads of women.
"Come in close, now to the left" he said in a beautiful baritone voice. I’m melting I thought. If he asked me; would I, or wouldn’t I. I surprised myself with the answer. Then I began to make a list of excuses. I’m late home because 1. Flat tyre. 2. Drop some one off 3. Having an affair with my dancing instructor.
"Bend a little lower Mrs. Forbes, foot out" Oh God, what was I saying. I wanted to slap myself.
"Snap out of it" I said. Remember the washing and ironing, football practice run, husband, boring life, dreary drudgery.
"Back straight" The way he held his body. It was so seductive. Those eyes were practically begging me to say something.
"Only 5 more minutes Mrs. Forbes. Shall we go over the last bit one more time?" Oh God if only he’d say that in bed. The way he smiled and those perfect teeth. He’s definitely giving me the signs. I may be 45 but I’m not dead yet.
"And finish. Well done Mrs. Forbes, I think we are getting somewhere" I wish we were I told myself. I could have asked him then,
"Do you go out for drinks, or I’m having a boring life, hows about it? But I just fumbled in my bag for the money, counting it out in his hand as he looked me straight in the eye. He’s never done that before. I think he lingered a bit too. I could notice a definite linger.
"I’m thinking of taking Latin American too," I said. That way I could come twice a week I thought.
"Yes, I’d like that" he said. I knew I had seen something in that look. I might have to use one of those excuses soon I thought.
He wasn’t handsome, just vaguely good looking and I think he dyed his hair. But those baby blue eyes were killers.
"Concentrate Mrs. Forbes" he said and I swirled around him our backs touching. I could smell his aftershave, one of those modern musky smells.
"Turn, lunge and catch my arm" he said "Very good Mrs. Forbes" I was putty in his hands, smooth hands. I don’t think he worked in the yard on weekends. My hands in his looked so old and callused. I like that in a man, nice hands. He smiled at me and he had those alluring laughter lines at the corners of his eyes. Just wrinkled enough to be rugged, I thought.
He must have all his students swooning. I bet he has loads of women.
"Come in close, now to the left" he said in a beautiful baritone voice. I’m melting I thought. If he asked me; would I, or wouldn’t I. I surprised myself with the answer. Then I began to make a list of excuses. I’m late home because 1. Flat tyre. 2. Drop some one off 3. Having an affair with my dancing instructor.
"Bend a little lower Mrs. Forbes, foot out" Oh God, what was I saying. I wanted to slap myself.
"Snap out of it" I said. Remember the washing and ironing, football practice run, husband, boring life, dreary drudgery.
"Back straight" The way he held his body. It was so seductive. Those eyes were practically begging me to say something.
"Only 5 more minutes Mrs. Forbes. Shall we go over the last bit one more time?" Oh God if only he’d say that in bed. The way he smiled and those perfect teeth. He’s definitely giving me the signs. I may be 45 but I’m not dead yet.
"And finish. Well done Mrs. Forbes, I think we are getting somewhere" I wish we were I told myself. I could have asked him then,
"Do you go out for drinks, or I’m having a boring life, hows about it? But I just fumbled in my bag for the money, counting it out in his hand as he looked me straight in the eye. He’s never done that before. I think he lingered a bit too. I could notice a definite linger.
"I’m thinking of taking Latin American too," I said. That way I could come twice a week I thought.
"Yes, I’d like that" he said. I knew I had seen something in that look. I might have to use one of those excuses soon I thought.
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