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Joe barely noticed Sue Anne arriving in the dark apartment until she whispered his name. “Sorry, but I need an alarm,” she told him.
He got up, switched on the desk lamp and adjusted the alarm clock to eight thirty. By the time he returned to bed, she’d somehow slipped her bra out of a t shirt, the shirt and panties her only clothing, and settled into the bed near Jenny who had remained asleep. She moved onto her side facing him, giving him their second quick kiss. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“No problem,” Joe replied. He soon slept still facing her.
The alarm woke them. Sue Anne climbed over him before he could get up. She switched on the light and found the button to end the alarm. “Go back to sleep,” she told both of them since Jenny had also awoken. She left the light on, but since it was focused on the desk it didn’t bother them.
An hour later, despite her apology, Sue Anne was all smiles. “There’s coffee and bagels,” she told them. “You’ll probably need to hurry,” she told Jenny.
“So you passed the audition?” Jenny asked, getting out of bed, stretching and putting on her leotard and warm ups.
“Yep,” Sue Anne beamed. “There’s no room for me in the Party dance, but Carol is letting Connie work with me on a short piece along with one of the men. And then she’ll let me be part of the long piece that Joe’s collaborating with her on. You dance Joe?”
“No. It’s based on one of my poems and I’m working on a film for it.”
“She told me. I read some of your writing. It’s really cool.”
“But I’ve always wanted to work with a really tall dancer ever since I saw Alvin Ailey and this beautiful black man maybe even taller than you. You interested?”
“Like I said, I’m not a dancer.”
“It would mostly be me dancing with you doing pretty simple moves.”
“I suppose I could try.”
“Cool. They’re working on the Party thing, so Carol suggested you interview me?”
“Of course,” Joe smiled.
Jenny took her coffee and bagel into the studio while Joe settled into his office chair to enjoy his, Sue Anne sitting close by in one of the metal fold up chairs. After a few sips and a few bites, Joe took out his notebook. “How was your family growing up?” he asked her.
“Uhm, okay I guess.”
“I’m sorry Sue Anne, but I need details, both the good and the bad. For instance one of the dancers told me about her hippy parents who became junkies and her father’s parents who resented her for being colored. Or the boy whose parents hated him for acting gay as a kid and coming out. Jenny before all this, before the interviews, told me about the mother who wanted her daughter to be prima ballerina she once was but got pregnant with her and Jenny never could be good enough or the father with the inappropriate attraction.”
Sue Anne nodded. “It was okay until my parents argued all the time and divorced when I was about seven. I had visitation with my father and realized he was a cold man who couldn’t communicate love, but he’d like gaze at me, more when I grew tits, and I couldn’t tell if he hated me or resented me for his attraction. Maybe fortunately my mother ended up being a fag hag, her friends all gay it seemed like, and then she came out of the closet and she ended up with this tough dyke who fortunately hid a great deal of warmth towards me and my mom so that was good. But my dad had this uncle who I thought was cool until he ended up not being so cool. He ended up in jail for statutory rape as it turns out.
“But the uncle obviously did a number on my head and I started looking for substitutes, older men, only finding the falseness of the love and ended up treating them like johns like I should have from the beginning, making sure it cost them a fuck of a lot to fuck me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It is what it is.”
“So when you left the nest…”
“My two moms weren’t thrilled by my choices, and though they were probably right it just became antagonistic, so as soon as possible I got my own place with Connie, started dancing with her and continued whoring of course.”
“The dancing? I mean the artistic dancing.”
“Ballet since I was like five and when I grew these,” she pushed up her tits, “I decided modern would be better and liked it better anyway. That’s actually how I met Connie. I’m afraid I got her in the life. I mean she saw the money and could use it, so…”
“You feel guilty?”
“Not really, mostly because she took to it. I mean to her it’s like these performances and she’s like a star. I mean she could have been an actress how real she makes it even though I know it’s not her. Well maybe being that naturalistic it would have to be at least somewhat her, wouldn’t it? For me I just put on a smile, grin and bear it I guess.”
“You know about how Carol gets grants.”
“Yep. Jenny actually offered but thankfully she doesn’t have to. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’d say it’s hard on most women, especially those as sensitive as Jenny. She’d have done it, for her art or whatever, but it would have damaged her I eryaman escort bayan think. Fucking some fat asshole to get something, directly or getting grants or whatever, is business as usual for me. It definitely wouldn’t have been for her.”
“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “So do you have any family movies?”
“Tons,” Sue laughed. “I’ve always been a prima donna and my folks thought it adorable and me being an only child everything concentrated on me. My asshole uncle took some film too, but who knows where that might be.”
“Is he still in prison?”
“Actually he might be out by now. You want me to track him down?”
“Not if it bothers you.”
“It wouldn’t. But I can’t imagine he’d be allowed to keep them unless he stashed them. He was actually pretty good at hiding things obviously. It’s a conversation I’ve been wanting to have for too long. I was thinking of coming to him looking as girly as possible, just to freak him out,” she laughed.
“Maybe bring some shears?” Joe also laughed.
Sue Anne sighed. “I can’t imagine prison cured him of his perversion.”
“Probably not,” Joe agreed.
“I’m not even sure how to find him.”
“Mark would probably know. I need to call him anyway. Probably wait until later.”
“So what would you like to do until then?” the hot blonde purred, stroking his bare inner thigh. He just wore boxers and a t shirt, his sleeping outfit.
“Uhm, don’t you get enough of that?”
“Yeah,” she pouted. “Kind of automatic. But last night…that was as good as it got for me, especially with a guy.”
“I enjoyed it too. But we never kissed.”
“Not my thing.”
“I avoid it with guys.”
“Been in love? I thought I was with Uncle Brian.”
Joe nodded his understanding.
Sue Anne perked up. “You got some sweat pants?”
“You mean comfies?” Joe chuckled. “It’s what I wear to bed,” Joe explained.
“What about a jock strap?”
“Nope. Never needed any since high school.”
“You’ll need to get them. For now, put on the sweat pants.”
“For my dance!”
“Something funny like the Stripper or that popcorn song.”
“I’m not sure…I know!” Joe grinned and went through his tape collection. It was actually an 8 track tape, Randy Newman’s Sail Away. His new system took those and cassettes. He plugged it in and found the song, You Can Leave Your Hat on.
“Perfect,” Sue Anne laughed. “Off with your shorts and on with your sweat pants!”
Joe wasn’t shy since she’d seen all of him, but she noticed his hardness. “You sure you don’t want me to…”
She laughed again and was about to kneel in front of him.
“On the bed,” he ordered her, stripping off her lower coverings, exposing her pussy soon enough, then pulled her into straddling his face. In that way they pleasured each other, Joe releasing into her mouth which she seemed to reluctantly swallow. She got up and went to the desk to drink down his coffee. “Wait,” he said.
“I’m good,” she told him. “Put on your pants.”
“It takes a while,” she shrugged. “And usually needs a girl’s touch.”
Joe couldn’t help feeling challenged but accepted her order. She also dressed, but just in her sweats.
“Stand and don’t move. Separate your feet to about shoulder width, your most sturdy. Good. Now keep your hands hanging down. Don’t move them. No touching.”
“Like one of those lap dances.”
“Exactly. I want you to keep your head as still as possible, but your eyes always watching me.”
“Watching you where?”
“Wherever you want. Face, tits ass, wherever. When I’m behind you, watch my hands or legs when they end up in front. You can tilt your head for that. But keep still and keep strong, okay?”
She restarted the song and began to move around Joe with various ways of moving, all sensual, but not in the way she moved on the club’s stage, more carefully and more beautifully, until she seemed to find the movement she wanted and circled him with that, closing in and finally touching him. What had been visual examination became tactile until hands became arms and legs and eventually her full body. Then she began to climb on him and Joe somehow managed to adjust to her weight. She stopped the moment she kissed him.
She moved off him and started the song again and repeated the movement she’d found, timing things so that the kiss happened at the end of the repeated chorus of “You give me reason to live.”
“Okay,” she said, climbing off him. “Time for you to dance.”
Her first lesson was for him to relax his shoulders. Then to try to repeat the way she moved. She slipped from his attempted grasp, the kiss suddenly animating him, and then she became the statue for him to examine but able to move when he touched her, resisting him but playfully, teasingly, playing the reluctant but excitable virgin, protecting her innocence but not really wanting to. She seemed to give in, and had him stand as he had at the start while embracing her, but when they kissed ankara escort again, he became rigid again and she dropped from the embrace. Her face and body expressed her frustration. She stood and glared at him and then studied him like she had before.
They worked on it, mostly working on Joe memorizing his movement which wasn’t easy for him, but he did his best and eventually they worked through it, timing it to the song better until she decided, “Let’s get back to it tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” Joe chuckled, his body tired and sweaty. He looked at the time and the schedule for upstairs. “Want a shower?”
He wasn’t surprised at the reaction of Leroy, the disapproval of Joe being with yet another woman. Or perhaps Joe projected. His own reaction to only being half hard in the shower shared by a woman with a near perfect cheesecake body, and it had been like that throughout the rehearsal, had been surprise, but a happy one. He realized she’d probably offer her mouth again, and in fact she did when he got harder when she spent extra time on his cock, cleaning becoming more of a hand job. He told her only if he could make her cum too, so she literally dropped it.
Back in the apartment, he called Mark about getting the water heater installed, Mark promising to get on it right away, and then handing the phone off to Sue Anne for her to get help finding Uncle Brian, which Mark told her wouldn’t be a problem. She called her mothers next, letting them know her dancing had become more legitimate and she needed her family movies for a dance she’d be working on. It was a message, so no dialogue.
Joe worked on his writing while Sue Anne looked through his records, not finding anything she wanted to hear. He told her she could turn on the tuner to listen to the radio, and cringed a bit when she found some top forty station, though it improved when she’d dance to the songs.
Carol and Jenny joined them and they all went out to lunch at a sandwich place. That’s where Jenny insisted Carol tell them the news.
“We’re doing the Cocktail Party at Bard,” Carol informed him. “Actually in Rhinebeck, at some performance space called Arnolfini’s.”
“When?” Joe asked.
“In two weeks. I planned to go up to see the dance finals for the students, and…”
“Yes. And thought I might as well do the show there. The guy that runs the place says he can get the furniture for the set so we won’t have to haul it up there.”
“How long have you known?” Joe asked.
“It’s been a couple months, maybe three.”
“There’s more,” said Jenny.
“We’ll be touring the next few weeks. Boston, Philadelphia and Baltimore. Why do you think I’ve been rehearsing the piece with Jenny?”
“I just thought you had a couple more shows, something like BAM or something.”
“BAM wouldn’t work for the show.”
“It will for ours though. But we did tour before, sort of previewing, making things better before debuting it in New York. We hit smaller cities mostly in the Midwest. It’s when I picked up my family movies in Lincoln. Speaking of which, we collect them in those cities too.”
“Max’s isn’t going to work out, Joe, is it?” Jenny asked.
“No, but we promised Gene this weekend. Maybe next weekend if he doesn’t kick our asses out.”
“What’s the problem Joe?” Carol asked.
“I suppose I can still be around,” Joe said.
“Except I wanted you to man the door, man the squeaky door sound mostly when people arrive.”
“Couldn’t Sue Anne do that? Obviously, with Connie, the strip joint is flexible.”
“I’d be fine with that,” Sue Anne volunteered.
“I was thinking she’d man the ticket desk, distribute the scripts,” Carol said.
“What’s going on Carol?”
“I thought we could work on our show, maybe even shoot some things with the dancers’ folks. But mostly just work with it. What’s the thing with Max’s?”
“I need to make a living? But I like it there and I’m good at it.”
“Not like you’ll be making much money as a busboy.”
“I like it there too,” Jenny said.
“But you want to dance.”
“I do. It’s fine.”
“Fuck,” Joe muttered. “Fine.”
“It’s art Joe, your art,” Carol reminded him.
“I said fine,” Joe growled. “Sorry,” he shifted with a sigh. “It’s just a surprise.”
“I should have mentioned it,” Carol admitted.
“Yes you should have.”
She didn’t apologize. They finished eating and headed back in silence.
Sue Anne was happy, getting to rehearse since the afternoon had them work on the individual pieces which left Carol alone with Joe.
Joe decided to type up the long poem, as much to ignore Carol as anything. Carol looked through Joe’s albums, again surprising him by putting on another avant-garde jazz album, this time Sun Ra. She pulled out a fairly thick file from the file cabinet and began working on something beside him.
“I’m not in the mood,” she decided, getting up and sitting in Joe’s lap and grinding back against him. “How’s it going?”
“Well until a moment ago,” Joe sincan escort bayan chuckled, his hands reaching around to pull her ass against him.
“Did you fuck Sue Anne today?”
“Good.” She got up, turned his chair and knelt, removing all barriers to his cock, half hard, soon made harder by her mouth.
Once fully hard, he pulled her to her feet, helped remove her clothes and led her to the bed where he began tonguing her, teasing her the way he liked to do, the bit of sweat and urine he first tasted soon replaced by the more pleasant flavor of her sexual liquids.
“Please Joe,” she growled eventually, moving toward orgasm again before Joe eased back.
Joe casually finished undressing, rolled on a condom and pushed in deep and hard.
“Oh fuck!” Carol exclaimed while he grounded into her.
The pleasure he felt in her depths quieted the anger simmering in him, and a bit of holding back that anger as well, and instead of pummeling her, his thrusts, each the length of his cock, were teasingly slow.
“Joe,” she murmured in a way that suggested she preferred more aggression.
Instead he latched onto a nipple with his lips and pulled her legs high, lifting her ass, and shifting as well to drill high into her. It still wasn’t quite enough. “Rub yourself,” he told her while picking up speed for his next thrust. It was gradual, and even before getting to full speed, she came hard.
He didn’t slow, but kept it steady before climbing to faster and harder until he pummeled into her like he had thought he might at the start, and it promoted his orgasm, luckily moments after hers.
They relaxed with Joe atop her still. “Don’t,” she murmured when he attempted to turn them over. Instead she pulled his mouth to hers for one of the softest kisses he’d experienced. When lips separated, she gave him an intense stare before eyes shut and arms and legs held him and they kissed much longer and much more powerfully.
It broke when he sensed his penis about to slip out and he reached down to make sure the condom stayed on. Only then did she urge him onto his back, sitting up. She looked beautiful if well fucked.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I don’t like to want to be with someone like he or she might have a hold on me. But you do Joe.”
“I’m not sure…” he started.
She stopped his words with her hand on his mouth and a gentle, “Ssh. Doesn’t matter. In fact I prefer it.”
When her hand moved off, he said, “You know you do get jealous.”
“Sam? It wasn’t that. It was about losing control.”
“She freaked out, Carol.”
“Because of me.”
“By her losing control, you lost control of her.”
“You don’t like losing control.”
“You mean with yourself? Is that what it’s about? This outward control, maybe it’s to keep control of yourself or at least not to have to focus on it.”
“We all have a way to fight off our inner demons.”
“You mean like me getting high? The oversensitive junkie dulling the edge of the weapons of the inner monsters ready to cut open that part of the mind that would release madness, whether it would be incapacitating self-doubt and self-loathing or paranoia where even the shadows carry threats.”
“Escaping the inner mirror that shows too well who you are.”
“But what if it shows, despite all the struggles in life, that you are actually okay, in fact you’re pretty damn good?”
“I think you are.”
“Honestly Carol I struggle to say the same about you.”
“It’s your manipulations, the concept of doing whatever it takes to get what you want. But maybe it’s the Yin and Yang of all of us that makes me think of your talent and even your determination that ended up bringing up the bad shit, but also ended up creating these beautiful visions for your dancers to dance and the audience to enjoy that makes me think it would be a balanced view. You do good despite yourself.
“But who I’m thinking of is Jenny and how much shit her life has been, and yet, unlike me, she’s not interested in desensitizing herself. Instead of losing herself in dope and cocaine, she shuns it because she doesn’t like the aftermath. She respects her body and mind, herself, to feel like shit.”
“You think it’s wisdom? I disagree,” Carol argued. “I think she’s simple. One plus one equals two. It ends up making me feel like shit so I won’t do it. No complexity there. Would I strike back or try to numb myself if I had that life? I had my own shit mother, an alcoholic who never really cared about me, and it did have its consequences in making me the bitch I am. Any rebellion in her? No. She escaped it, found you, and everything’s great. Her shit life makes her sad, upsets her, but she just moves on and hopes for the best.”
“If that’s true then I envy her,” Joe decided.
“But do you respect her?”
Joe had to think about it. “I do. I do think there’s wisdom in what you call her simplicity. While we get caught up in a web of complexity which may help give depth to our art, she cuts through that bullshit. Think of the Buddhists and maya, all those illusions we prop up and fuck us up. Think of the purity of a haiku or a blues song. Simple is better. And then there’s the expressiveness she exudes when she dances just because she can just be herself in the moment.
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