Dancing Lessons

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual behavior are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: Yes I need an Editor and no, I do not want an Editor. Yes, it jumps around too much. Yes, there's too many people to keep track of. Yes, it's too long. Yes, it's too short. Yes, it's in the wrong category. Yes, this is stupid shit, and yes, I suck.

For those of you that have not hit the backspace key, I do hope you enjoy this little tale.

*

Chapter 1

Jack Hebert lived upstairs, in 2B. It was a sixteen by sixteen room, plenty big enough for his needs. The beige carpet was only twelve by sixteen, going the length of the room, but ended four feet from the small kitchen. There, the owner had put fairly nice linoleum tiling. The linoleum tiling extended to the small bathroom.

Jack had put a simple bath mat in the small bathroom and that small bath mat nearly took up all the available floor area.

But that was good enough for him. He had not needed that much, had not wanted that much.

Jack Hebert certainly did not need the thirty two hundred square foot home his wife had insisted they buy. At first he had objected; there was just him, her, and their sixteen year old daughter; they simply did not need that much room.

Especially since Deidre would surely be moving out in just two years' time. The girl had been talking of nothing but going to Florida State ever since seeing a photograph of the college campus.

But as usual, Jack gave in and put down the twenty five percent down payment, fifty two thousand, and five hundred dollars.

Then, two years after Deidre moved out, Jacqueline hit him with the usual 'we've grown apart' and 'it's not you, it's me' and 'this will help us reconnect.'

He wondered how a forty seven year old woman taking a thirty one year old lover was supposed to help them reconnect. But, to Jacqueline's surprise, Jack had not capitulated this time. He had not simply caved.

"You'll end up with nothing," she screeched, normally pretty face twisted in an ugly snarl when he informed her he was moving out.

"That's fine; at least I won't end up with a wrinkled up old slut," he said and finished packing his suitcase.

Miller's Electronics sold him the equipment. Hiding them around the large home was easy. Jacqueline was less than scrupulous in her housekeeping, less than observant in her surroundings.

He found out that Jaqueline's paramour was a teacher at Baylor Lake High School; that was how they'd met. Brian taught English and Jacqueline was the librarian.

Jacqueline and Brian thought Jack should just go along with the plan; they'd have their fling, then Brian would go home to his wife and Jacqueline would go home to her husband.

But Jack Hebert did not wind up being the head accountant for St. Elizabeth Public Utilities by being sloppy. He became the head accountant by being careful, meticulous.

As they'd arranged, Brian and Jacqueline went to Sweet Peas for that night's fried catfish dinner. And Brian's parents were there, sitting at a table. A shamefaced Brian introduced Jacqueline as a co-worker.

"So, where's Michelle?" Brian's mother asked pointedly.

"She's uh, she's at home, with the girls," Brian stammered.

"Yes, she told us," his father snapped. "Said you had some sort of Parents-Teachers conference or something going on at school tonight."

"Uh, yeah, yes we uh, we do, but there was a little break so we uh decided to grab a bite to eat," Brian stammered.

"Uh huh," both Brian's parents said, letting him know they didn't buy his lame excuse.

After a silent dinner, the no longer quite amorous couple went to Foxtrot's Lounge for a little dancing. Jacqueline loved to dance, but Jack didn't care much for it, having two left feet.

And at Foxtrot's, Jacqueline's mother and step-father were dancing.

"Yes, darling, your husband slipped Roger here a couple hundred bucks, told him take me here for a little dancing and drinking," her mother giggled.

Then she looked at Brian and raised an eyebrow.

"But uh, what are you doing here?" she asked her daughter.

"We uh, well, you know Jack doesn't much like to dance so uh," Jacqueline stammered.

"Come on, Monique, they're playing our song," Roger insisted.

"That is not our song, you silly old coot," Monique laughed, but allowed herself to be dragged back out onto the dance floor.

But Jacqueline was determined to go through with her fling, if for no other reason than to show her stick in the mud husband that he wasn't about to ruin her evening.

That was fine with Brian; the dancing and dinner had just been a means to an end for him.

"Damn, nice house," Brian whistled as he pulled up to the South Shore Baylor Lake home.

"Thank you," Jacqueline simpered.

They entered the house, with Brian giving Jacqueline's flabby backside a generous squeeze.

"Hello, Brian," Michelle said from the living room couch.

"I uh, what? What are you doing here?" Brian almost screamed.

"Oh, I thought I'd show your wife and your daughters where you'd be living," Jack Hebert said, coming into the room with a box of things. "Hi Jacqueline; I just stopped by for a few more of my things."

"I done told you yeah," Michelle said, voice a tightly controlled whisper. "I done told you, after Stacy, I told you that's it."

The pregnant woman hefted herself out of the far too soft couch, walked over to Brian and gave his face a stinging slap.

"Well, looks like y'all have a lot to talk about, so I'll be going now," Jack smiled. "The girls really love the swimming pool."

"You son of a bitch," Jacqueline snarled at a smiling Jack.

"Uh huh, by the way, y'all owe Dani twelve bucks for babysitting Mealy and Mandy tonight," Jack said, pointing to the neighboring girl that was splashing in the pool with the two girls.

Then he left the house.

They had nearly eighty four thousand dollars equity in the house; Jacqueline screamed, cried and begged Jack for forgiveness. She did not want to lose the house or the nearly seventeen thousand dollars of furniture she'd accumulated.

Her brand new Mercedes-Benz still had three more years on the note; Jacqueline begged and pleaded and cried for Jack to forgive her. She knew she could not afford the car on her salary.

And she nearly fainted when Parker Johnson, her attorney relayed the news; Jacqueline would be responsible for half of Deidre's tuition and living expenses as long as the child was in college.

She also found it quite difficult to make ends meet on the salary of a Public School Librarian.

"Oh no, Honey," Monique laughed a tight little laugh when Jacqueline approached her mother with the idea of moving in with them.

"But it's just until I can..." Jacqueline whined.

"Honey, it's a two bedroom condo," Roger said.

"I am so grateful your father isn't alive to see this," Monique said.

She fixed her daughter with her customary raised eyebrow.

"Remember?" Monique asked. "You brought that Jack Hebert boy home and your father said to you that boy's a snake in the grass. Boy would he be shocked to see just how wrong he was."

Their oldest, John Junior called his dad.

"Dad, Mom's asking us if she can stay here," J.J. said.

"Son, you got the room, then by all means, let her stay," Jack said.

"Well, it's uh, I just don't want it, I don't want any problems," J.J. admitted.

"Son, that woman changed your poo-poo diapers, cleaned you up, fed you all those years. If you got the room, give it to her," Jack said.

"Love you, Dad," J.J. said.

Michelle Melancon was true to her word; she did not forgive Brian his attempted little fling. Brian found that living on half his salary was not feasible and wound up moving back home with his parents.

But at least, those living arrangements gave Brian's parents plenty of time with Amelia and Amanda, their two granddaughters, and when Michelle gave birth to Barry Melancon, named after her father, they got to see him often as well.

"Barry? I thought we were going to name him after me," Brian whined.

"WE was," Michelle snapped. "But your little dick made sure there ain't no 'WE' anymore."

Jack had intended for the apartment to be a temporary thing, but found he enjoyed not spending hours cutting the grass, or raking leaves, or mulching a garden, or planting flowers, or vacuuming out the pool.

He found he enjoyed not changing the wallpaper, painting the spare bedroom, pulling out the old carpet.

Jack found out he liked not having to clean the garage, or the attic, or the tool shed.

There was a closet in his apartment. He found it held twelve suits, twelve dress shirts, and twenty four ties just fine. It also held three pairs of shoes, a long overcoat, and a short jacket just fine.

The small set of drawers in it held his four pairs of jeans, his twelve pairs of underwear, his twelve pairs of socks, and his four pull over shirts just fine.

The furniture was minimalistic as well. Jack had his favorite recliner, two bookshelves, a small table and two dining chairs, and a full sized bed.

He did not even have a television. He had thought briefly of availing himself of the television in Deidre's room, but couldn't think of a single television show he would want to watch.

Jack Hebert was an avid Saints fan, but Red's Sports Bar had a sixty one inch LCD television and ice cold beers and insanely spicy chicken wings and ice cold beers and jalapeno laden nachos and ice cold beers. If there was a television program he just had to watch, he could stream it on his lap top computer.

He had found he liked to cook. Jacqueline was always screeching that he was making a mess whenever he attempted to cook. But here, it was either microwave endless frozen dinners, or actually learn to cook. So he learned to cook.

Jack Was driving home one evening; a co-worker had given him a new recipe for blackened chicken and he happened to have some leg quarters, when he happened to look over at a colorful building.

Jack had driven the same path day in and day out, had passed this building day in and day out. Why he would have decided to look over at this moment was unanswerable to him.

The curtains were open; he was looking at a plate glass window of Kizzy's School of Dance. And inside were seven couples, twirling and gliding.

A car horn brought him out of his trance and Jack turned and pulled into the parking lot of the building.

Then he sat in his car and watched. He watched as an attractive young woman, beatific smile on her pretty face showed them some basic movements, then waved for them to start again.

Even though he could not hear the music, the fluid motions of the people dancing filled Jack's head with music.

Then the class must have been over; some couples stood around and chatted, others walked out into the twilight and got into their cars.

Jack made a decision and got out of the car.

"Hi, help you?" the young dance instructor smiled, breaking away from an older couple.

"Yeah, uh, you, uh, I mean, I'm not a couple, but do you teach individuals? God, that was just so beautiful, watching them dancing like that," Jack stammered, now wondering why he was in there.

Kizzy smiled wider and grasped his nervous hands into her own warm hands.

"Boy is this your lucky day," she insisted.

"Okay," Jack said, not feeling very lucky.

"Come on, let's take a look at what we can do," Kizzy said, pulling him to the counter.

He agreed to sign up for her twelve week program and agreed he would be there that Wednesday night.

"Six o'clock and I'll introduce you to your dance partner," Kizzy said, handing him his charge slip.

"Oh boy; this IS my lucky day," Jack smiled.

Even as he cooked his dinner, Jack couldn't help but hum the music he'd heard in his head as those couples had danced in front of his eyes.

Jack had met Jacqueline Adams at Cabrini High School. She and her family had just moved from Stepping Stone, Louisiana so that her dad could start working at the Baggett Mattress factory.

She was pretty enough, but she didn't really stand out among the other beauties in Cabrini High School.

Jack Hebert certainly did not stand out among the elite of Cabrini High School. He wasn't particularly handsome, wasn't particularly wealthy, wasn't particularly athletic.

He didn't have a nice car, didn't have a poetic soul, and couldn't dance.

But he was smart.

After a few weeks of being ignored by the upper echelon of Cabrini High School, Jacqueline Adams was thrilled when Jack Hebert quietly asked her if she'd like to go to Jade Garden for Chinese food.

And after her father declared Jack Hebert to be nothing but a snake in the grass, a dog in heat, Jack jumped up a few notches in Jacqueline's eyes.

Cabrini held an Autumn Formal and Jacqueline waited for Jack to ask her to that. As the day loomed closer, she finally asked him when he planned on asking her.

"Can't dance," he admitted to the girl.

So she went with Joe Manzella. And suddenly, Jacqueline and Joe were a couple.

Jack was a little disappointed, a little hurt. He was also practical. They were eighteen years old. They were free to date whomever they pleased. In just a few months, he'd be going to the University of Southwestern Louisiana in Lafayette, Louisiana, and Jacqueline would be going to wherever she wished and they'd probably never see each other again.

But Joe Manzella's little smirk did piss Jack off.

"Hey Hebert, how's it going?" Joe taunted.

"Hmm? Oh, going good, Manzella, and how's Gina doing?" Jack asked, referring to Joe's older sister, who had quite a reputation as a slut.

Joe was brawny, but Jack was smart. Joe took a swing at Jack and Jack ducked, letting Joe punch the cinderblock wall instead.

"Ooh, I bet that hurt," Jack chuckled as Joe stared in horror at his swelling hand.

Jacqueline tried dating a few other boys in an effort to make Jack jealous, then had to admit defeat and come back to him.

She did not go to the Winter Formal or to the Spring Formal. Jack Hebert couldn't dance.

Twenty nine years later, in Apartment 2B, Jack was looking forward to learning to dance.

Chapter 2

It was Wednesday and Jack wore his burgundy shoes with his medium brown suit, light blue shirt and burgundy tie. The burgundy shoes were his most comfortable pair.

"I could have sworn today was Wednesday," Jill, one of the Human Resources administrative assistants commented as Jack walked past her cubicle.

"It, uh, it is Wednesday," Jack said.

"No, Wednesday is navy blue day," the young woman smiled. "With your blue and gray tie, or your blue tie with the yellow dots."

"Not no more," Jack smiled. "We shaking it up a bit."

"That a new suit?" Rhonda, another accountant asked.

"No, it's his Friday suit," Bill, one of the IT men said.

"Oh," Rhonda said, stared at Jack quizzically for a moment, then resumed studying her computer screen. "No, Bill, see? It's hung up on something; it won't let me go to the next page."

If wearing a different suit caused a minor stir in the office, Jack's leaving twenty minutes early nearly caused a panic.

He drove to Tommy's Po-Boys, a small restaurant next door to the dance school and very nearly ordered his usual of ham and cheese with olive dressing.

"No, no, you know what? Give me a large shrimp; there hot sauce, yes, there's hot sauce on the table, yeah, give me a shrimp and a coke," Jack ordered.

He thoroughly enjoyed his sandwich, checked his watch again, and then walked next door.

He sucked on a mint nervously and stood back from the other patrons; they were all couples.

"Great, you're here," Kizzy beamed, spotting Jack. "I'd like you to meet Michelle Melancon, your partner.

She had been seven, nearly eight months pregnant the last time Jack had seen her. All he had remembered of her was that she was a pretty and plump young woman, with two very pretty little girls, and that her pretty face was splotchy from her tears, then red with her anger.

Michelle Melancon stood at four foot eleven, and probably tipped the scales at one hundred and seventy pounds. Her small face was round, her mouth was a button mouth, her nose was a round little nub in her face, and her big brown eyes were round.

Her bright carrot orange hair was tightly coiled; she kept it fairly short.

Her breasts were definitely more than a handful, her belly had not lost all of the fat that carrying a baby had placed there, her hips were round, and her backside was round.

In her snug jeans, her thighs looked thick, round.

All of Michelle Melancon looked round.

"Hi Bubbles," Jack said, not even thinking as he greeted her.

And she burst into laughter.

"Now why you call me that?" she laughed.

"I don't know," he admitted, blushing slightly as they were now the center of attention from the other couples. "First thing that came to mind."

He found out that her parents had paid for twelve weeks of dancing lessons for her; it was a way to get her out of the house for a couple of hours. But when Michelle had come for her first lesson, Kizzy had to admit, they had no male partners for her. That was fine with Michelle; she had sat and watched the class, admiring their movements.

"Then Kizzy sent me a text and told me come here this Wednesday," Michelle bubbled.

Jack was covered in sweat by the end of the first lesson. Halfway through, he had to remove his jacket. Then Michelle had reached her small hand up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first button on his shirt.

She had not thought about it, had just reached up and done it.

"There, isn't that better?" she asked as they made another box.

"Loosen up, Jack, let the music move you," Kizzy encouraged.

When the lesson finished, Michelle grabbed his hand.

"You will be here next week? Please say you will; I had so much fun," she bubbled.

"You had fun? Dancing with an old man?" he smiled at her as he picked up his suit jacket.

"You're not old," she said.

"Twice as old as you," he countered.

"Yeah, well, still," she said.

"I'll be here," he smiled.

Dancing with her, he had been attempting to look into her large brown eyes. But his eyes did occasionally drift down to her impressive chest. Then he would realize what he was doing and he'd quickly pull his eyes back up to hers. And she would smile a warm smile at him and he would blush.

But as she bounded out of the building, he watched her large backside in her snug jeans.

As if she could sense his eyes on her, Michelle turned at the door and shot him a wide smile.

"You had fun?" Kizzy asked.

"You know what? I really did. I mean, I know I'm terrible at it, but I really had fun," Jack admitted.

"Number one, you are not terrible at it; you're a beginner at it," another woman said.

"And number two, dancing is all about fun," her partner said. "Take care of number two and number one will take care of itself."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Kizzy agreed.

The next morning, Jack reached into the closet for his Thursday suit, then decided he would wear his Wednesday suit instead.

"Now I'm totally lost," Jill teased as he strolled along the corridor.

He just smiled.

His cell phone buzzed and he saw it was J.J. so he did answer it.

"Dad, you got, listen, we, Shawna?" J.J. stammered into the phone.

"Your mother driving you nuts?" Jack guessed.

"Yeah, you heard the school let her go?" J.J. asked.

"No, they did not," Jack gasped.

"Yeah, and that guy Brian too," J.J. said.

"Wow," Jack said. "Why? I mean, did she say why she got let go?"

"No; I mean, believe me, I did ask but all she'll say is she doesn't want to talk about it," J.J. said.

Jack recognized the statement; Jacqueline said it whenever she had painted herself into a corner. She'd just say she didn't want to talk about it. And she'd repeat that statement until the matter was finally dropped.