Jill the Mirror
Chapter 5: Invitation to the Dance

Copyright© 2016 by LughIldanach

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 5: Invitation to the Dance - Ever met a lovely person who understood everyone but themselves? In the sequel to Jill's Journeys, Jill continues to search for her sexuality and identity, in a polyamorous household to which she gives much. Heterosexuality, lesbianism, and bisexuality surround her, but she still searches for her path while helping guide others. Dove and Sandra bring their own insights beyond the norm, as do the leaders of the family. There is much growth, much love, and much fun.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   True Story   Humor   Vignettes   Workplace   Mother   Daughter   DomSub   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory  

Dove called Tony. “We’ve met, and even danced together, but I’d like to know you better, as a person. Besides that, it might be fun to go to bed together, either the two of us or with Howard.” I blushed a little. “I also told my daughter that I’d try to give her reviews of you and Jerry.” After we agreed, I decided on how I wanted to look. While I don’t look ripped, I’ve never lost the underlying tone of my gymnast and dancer days. So, something form-fitting seemed a fine idea, but something different than the usual Spandex. I remembered that someone told me that men like women in leather because they smelled like new cars. I’m not that much of a car enthusiast, but the idea amused me. I picked a dark red leather dress against which hair contrasts. It was laced from the neck to the waist, and let me show plenty of cleavage and sideboob. I decided on red spiked heels, a little higher than five-inch, but in which I can comfortably walk inside. With them, I chose golden tan thigh highs. Other things under the dress? Why?


We looked at one another, with approval. Like Tony, I’m on the short side: 5’3”, while he’s 5’8”. We each have compensations: I have brilliant red hair and a nice face, but on the physical side, I also have big and shapely boobs. Tony has the muscular development of a bodybuilder, but not to the point of being grotesque. I appreciated his clothing choice. While he spent much of his time in sweats and T-shirt or bodyshirt, he had dressed up -- in soft, maybe even cashmere, versions of the same garments.

One pride of Tony Puccini’s apartment was his restaurant-quality espresso machine. With great ceremony, hissing steam, and happy burbles, he prepared my choice of cappuccino.

“Dove, I’m happy to say that I’m finally getting it together, maybe fusing my various interests. High school was strange; in that I was the only guy that both the band and the football team fought over. They got this weird compromise where I played in the pregame show, and then, if I was up to it, did a solo at halftime.”

“Solo on what?”

“Usually trumpet, but I could also do it on saxophone or clarinet. I also sing bass. You know that description of a clarinet as an ill woodwind that no one blows good? Well, that was my introduction to blow jobs.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Receiving or giving?” Most men freaked with the slightest allusion to possible bi- or homosexuality. Personally, I’m a very active bisexual with a preference for men.

“Mostly receiving. The giving part is one of those things that I’m looking at as I get things together.

“Now, on the football team, I was a tight end, and yes, that also has at least multiple entendres. What I didn’t make public is that I took some ballet. I heard that some NFL receivers, especially in San Francisco, found that it increased flexibility and even reaction time.”

Dove observed, “Quite a few meanings for tight end, especially in San Francisco.”


“Recently, when I dropped in on the dance studio here, I realized I had forgotten the ballet basics, but they’re coming back.”

“I knew that I wasn’t big enough to play in the pros, but I looked at what I could learn as a reserve on my college team. There was a lot to learn from the trainers and the conditioning coaches, and I wound up getting a real degree with certification as an athletic trainer.

“Still, when I graduated, I found a job in a somewhat foo-foo health club. From there, though, I developed some practice in bodybuilding. I was one of the first, in this area, to work with female bodybuilders, treating them as just as serious an athlete as a male bodybuilder.

“That’s where I met Zelda.

“You know the movie, Dirty Dancing? For some reason, that gets me crying. Play the song “I’ve Had the Time of My Life,” and I have to choke off tears. Patrick Swayze’s character didn’t seem to move on after the movie, but I did. I guess he’s been something of a role model, although I never met him.

“Like Swayze, but not as seriously, I found that alcohol and I did not get along. His costar Jennifer Grey said that he was vulnerable as well as being strong.”

“Funny you mention her, Tony. She and both are short. I liked that movie too, and especially remember the lifts and spins, things that I thought only could be done on ice.”

“Anyway, want a blow job?” He looked very surprised.

“First, I like giving them. I really, really, like giving them. With a friend, I’ve been known to reach orgasm while giving a BJ, just touching myself a little.

“Second, it reduces tension. I’d be delighted, afterwards, to cuddle and kiss and work each other up into passion.

“Third, from what you tell me about your music, you blow things rather well, so I can compare.

“Tony dear, listen carefully. I have some questions, but I don’t want to squick you. That may make me a little roundabout.

“Am I correct that in hard workouts, people variously ignore pain, or mentally flip the emotional aspect of pain into something else?”

“Sure, Dove. It’s complex. Pain, of course, is a specific neurological mechanism. In common use, it’s seen as emotional and negative.” He paused. “Do you like the Rocky movies?”

That intrigued me. “Be still, my heart.”

“Remember when he chants ‘no pain’?”

“Sure.”

“That’s one way to prevent pain from being limiting -- deny it. Denial isn’t the right word. Ignore? Refuse to let it influence?

“But, Dawn, I think I might have a different model for what you have in mind. When I’m getting into the last reps of an intense set, my muscles burn like hell. I accept that burning pain as a step toward getting the muscle stimulation that I want.


“That’s a lot closer, Sandra, to what I think. I acknowledge pain, but do several things with it. First, if I feel safe, I can let pain be a spice, just as I enjoy the burn of native-hot Thai food.

“Second -- and please tell me if I squick -- I really, really like anal sex. It gives me pleasure in several ways. Once the act is well underway, it gives me a wonderful feeling of heat and fullness. Fucking in the front is also great, but different. With that, I’m most aware of the sliding and pumping, and the localized stimulation of clit and G-spot. Sometimes, I say that the different pleasures are deep in front and wide in back.”

“Anyway, I said that was the second part. The first part is that I like the entry, the initial stretching, to feel a little forced and to hurt some, although not like it would if I were dry. Some of it is willingly submitting, but not to all partners. I know that I can risk that sort of submission only with someone that will take care of both of us, and, no matter how crazy I get, not let me thrust hard enough to tear anything.

“Keeping me safe when I get crazy in anal may require restraining me. That isn’t restraining me to force me to take it. That’s restraining me to keep me from pushing too hard and damaging myself. I may have to give up control and let my partner control the thrusting.” I licked my lips and looked him in the eyes. “Can you see why you appeal to me for those acts?” I looked down and saw his pants tented high. “Yeah, I see that I appeal to you as well.”

 
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