Swim and Tango
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2013 by FantasyLover

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Summary: College-age daughter of Marc, a divorced man, comes home for Christmas, bringing Michelle, her roommate. For two weeks, Marc and Michelle have an affair, their feelings growing despite knowing the affair will end when Michelle returns home New Year's Eve. Before Leaving, Michelle and Marc's daughter arrange a blind date for him, one that quickly draws Marc into a deep, romantic relationship. Things happen during the course of that relationship to make it even more interesting.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Fiction  

"So, are you ready yet to find out about your date for tonight?" Sandy asked as we walked into the house. I knew she was trying to keep me from dwelling on Michelle's departure, but I wanted to grieve right now; I really wasn't in the mood to date someone new.

"Do I know her?" I asked absent-mindedly.

"No, but she knows you fairly well," she replied, unwilling to give me any further details. My curiosity was finally piqued enough to get me thinking about tonight. Michelle had known about it and had wanted me to go. I'd always done everything she'd asked of me and she'd insisted that I go out tonight with another woman. I was torn between loyalty to what we'd had between us and doing what she now wanted me to do. I guess Sandy sensed I was embroiled in some sort of inner turmoil or just decided I wasn't in a mood to talk about it right now, so she left me alone and went out to the pool to tan.

I fixed lunch for the two of us, occasionally looking out at the pool, still able to visualize Michelle's near-nude body cutting through the water. I started laundry after calling Sandy in for lunch. With the first load started, I went back to the kitchen for lunch and the lecture I was expecting from Sandy.

She didn't disappoint me, even threatening to call Michelle and have her tell me to, "Get off my butt, and go out tonight." I didn't want her to do that because I didn't want Michelle to have to say good-bye to me twice in one day; I'm sure Sandy knew that when she made the threat.

I agreed half-heartedly, mumbling something about not being sure I'd have a good time. Sandy started laughing at the comment, and I quickly realized that we'd had a sudden role-reversal here. She was being the parent and I was being the obstinate child. I could even hear myself use the exact tone and inflection Sandy had used the last time I'd gotten her to agree to go somewhere she didn't want to and she'd uttered those very same words back to me.

"Now you know what you used to sound like all the time," I told her, unable to keep my embarrassed grin from making an appearance.

"Payback's a bitch," she laughed back at me. We laughed together and then she got serious again. "Of all the times you made me do something I didn't want to, how many did I end up enjoying?" she asked.

I thought for a few seconds before answering, "All of them, as far as I can remember."

"Then trust me on this, please. I can see it from an angle you can't. Moreover, I've met her and talked to her and I know you'll like her. I knew you and Michelle would hit it off, didn't I?"

Damn, I hate it when my kids are right like that, especially when they know it, and even more especially when they know that I know they know it.

"Yeah, but I feel like I'm cheating on Michelle if I go out with someone so soon after she left," I explained.

"Dad, I know all about the talk you had with Michelle before you let anything serious happen between the two of you. Maybe you should have listened to it, too. You made her realize that she had a life she had to live, one that couldn't include you if she was to live a full life. I believe that you both would agree that Tennyson was right when he wrote, 'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all, ' right?"

"Yeah," I grumped.

Realizing that her line of attack wasn't working, Sandy tried another. "If Michelle met a guy she liked on the plane today, would you be more upset if she agreed to go out with him on a date tonight, or if she said no to him 'cuz she didn't think it was right to date someone else so soon?"

"Okay, I get the point," I conceded, then started laughing. Sandy looked confused, but cautiously amused. My laughter set sandy to laughing, even though she had no idea what I was laughing about.

"What was so funny?" she finally asked after we both managed to quit laughing.

I answered, "When I used to have to convince you of something, I used to start out with the easy, smaller reasons and progress to bigger, harder ones until I got you to agree. One day I thought to myself that you were thickheaded, just like your mother, and that I had to use the ideas like hammers, using a progressively bigger one until I could drive my point through your thick skull. I just now realized that you got the thick-headedness from me, not from your mother, and that you were just using bigger hammers on me to drive your point into my thick skull."

We laughed a bit more and Sandy gave me the details of my date, including the fact that she had two young daughters. I was to pick the babysitter up at 5:00 and take her to Monica's place. Sandy smiled knowingly when I mused about picking up a babysitter. Having just learned that my date had two young children, I wondered what else she wasn't telling me.

She gave me phone numbers and addresses for both Monica and Janette, the babysitter, and I noticed that Monica's address was an apartment in the poorer section of town. She and I had 6:00 reservations on a ship that was going on a special New Year's cruise, and wouldn't be back until after 10 a.m. tomorrow. Dinner was served at 7:00, and there was dancing and a couple of shows for entertainment, then a big New Year's party with finger-food and champagne--and, of course, more dancing.

Sandy kissed me as, stylishly dressed in the suit she'd picked out for me, I walked out the door. Like a mother watching one of her sons leaving for his first date, she made sure I had the address and the tickets, and reminded me to pick up flowers on my way over, suggesting something yellow. She had even programmed all of the addresses into the car's GPS for me. Dutifully, I did as instructed and bought a beautiful live yellow orchid plant instead of cut flowers as well as a beautiful yellow orchid corsage to match.

The babysitter's apartment was halfway between the florist and Monica's apartment. She answered the door seconds after I rang the bell, and introduced herself as Janette. She turned and said something to her roommate, then followed me out to the car. She seemed surprised when I opened the car door for her, and ooohed and aaahed over the orchids. When she asked how I met Monica, she was surprised when I told her this was a blind date for me, one my daughter set up for me.

Janette spent the rest of the short trip to Monica's telling me about Monica, how her husband, Tony, died three years ago when their youngest was only a year old and their other daughter was three, and how she'd struggled to provide a warm, loving home for them ever since.

I made a comment about knowing what that was like when Janette gasped, "Oh, my God, you're Sandy's and Gina's dad." It turns out she'd been to our house several times for parties, study groups, and sleepovers. I didn't really recognize her, but I hadn't really paid that much attention to the girls my daughters hung around with, just the guys.

"Oh, you two are going to be great together," she commented, once again leaving me wondering just what everyone else knew that I didn't.

Once we got to Monica's, Janette waited and let me open the car door for her. "I wish you'd give lessons to some of the guys my age," she lamented. She handed me the corsage and orchid and walked next to me, directing me to Monica's door. Nervously, I rang the doorbell.

Janette must have sensed my tenseness. "Relax and be yourself and she'll love you," she whispered, finishing just as the door opened. I'd entertained mental pictures of what my date for the evening might look like, everything from a frumpy, overweight, middle-aged housewife, to a drop-dead gorgeous twenty-year-old. I still wasn't prepared for the vision standing there holding the door open.

She was about 5'8", yellow hair slightly past her shoulders, and a beautiful slender face with a smile that set my heart on fire. She was slim without appearing fragile, with narrow hips, and small but beautifully rounded breasts. The knee-length red cocktail dress she wore was stunning. It made her look sexy as hell, accentuating her curves, but was actually quite modest in how much skin showed. I doubted that she was a day over 30, making her more than 20 years my junior.

Janette saved me by making the introductions, letting Monica know that she knew my two youngest daughters quite well. Monica invited us in and graciously accepted the orchids, oohing and aahing over them as she and Janette headed for the kitchen where she gave last-minute instructions to Janette.

Janette quietly said something excitedly to Monica, hugging her before they came back to the door.

Evidently, Monica's two girls were next door playing with the neighbor's daughter so Monica could get ready to go. I had a feeling I'd seen her somewhere before, but couldn't place her. Monica let me pin the corsage to her dress, and I nervously slipped two fingers inside the top of her dress, being careful not to touch her as I did so. I quickly got the corsage pinned on, proud of myself that no blood was shed in the process.

"Nicely done," she commented shyly, blushing slightly as I checked to make sure it was reasonably straight. I blushed, too, realizing she was openly commenting on how close my fingers had been to her breasts, and that I had behaved myself.

As we turned to leave, Janette hugged her, and I overheard a whispered "Good luck," from her to Monica, the quiet comment reminding me that Monica was probably just as excited and nervous as I was. I opened and held the front door for her as we left, letting Janette close it sometime after we rounded the corner of the building and were out of sight. I offered Monica my arm and she accepted, hooking her arm around mine as we walked to the car.

"So, where'd you and Sandy meet?" I asked as we walked to the car.

"It's a long story," she said, dodging the question for now, "but we have enough time that I can tell you later tonight." Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her giving me a few surreptitious glances my way as we walked. To my credit, I only got lost once in all the turns back out to the street where I was parked. I held the door for her as she demurely slid into the front seat, her coy smile expressing her appreciation at being treated like a lady.

We made small talk all the way to the harbor, both of us nervous about what the opinion of the person next to us would be tomorrow morning, neither wanting to get into a discussion of anything serious until we'd had a chance to find out a little more about our date for the evening.

Our punctuality paid off and, since we were over half an hour early, we beat the many last minute couples and had quite a selection of tables from which to choose. We chose one of the few tables with settings for only two. It was stuck in an out-of-the-way corner.

We talked while we waited for the ship to sail. "You don't recognize me, do you?" she asked amusedly. There was something in the way she asked the innocent question that told me the answer wasn't going to be easy.

"Well, I've been thinking that you looked familiar ever since your place, but I can't figure out where I know you from," I admitted.

With a devious smile and a deep blush, she said, "Try thinking grocery store, whining six-year-old, not enough money..."

"Oh, my God, that was you?" I gasped incredulously. I remembered seeing her while Michelle and I were shopping. She had obviously been carefully adding the prices of each item she was purchasing. She finally gave in and bought a box of cookies to quiet her crying daughter, but put back something else she'd already selected. When she wasn't looking, I bought the item she put back. We waited outside until she came out, and Michelle took the bagged item to the women. Inside the bag I'd also stuffed $100 in cash.

Monica explained, "I got the cashier to call your house to ask you to call me so I could thank you for everything, but your daughter took his call and called me back instead. I was kind of surprised when she didn't know who I was since I assumed that your daughter was there in the store with you." I suddenly had a feeling this was going to be a very long night--or a very short one.

"Well, when you said the story about how you met my daughter was a long one, you didn't tell me it was me that was going to be telling the story," I said, and was slightly relieved when she at least smiled. I spent the rest of dinner telling the story, starting from when Michelle literally first walked into my life until she walked back out of it at the airport this morning.

Naturally, I glossed over some parts, but made it clear enough that we'd been involved sexually, and had both been in love with the other, making sure she understood that I hadn't initiated the relationship, and that before we did anything, I made sure Michelle knew it couldn't last after she went home.

When I finished my story, she was slightly teary-eyed. "So, should I go see if there's another table I can sit at?" I asked, figuring that was the end of this date.

I was very surprised when she shook her head, a glimmer of a smile on her lips. "I can't believe you told me the whole truth," she said, astounded. "I already knew all about it," she confided.

"Your daughter and Michelle both spent the better part of a day talking with me, and they explained exactly what you just told me. Just the fact that Michelle would tell me about it and still encourage me to go out with you when she left told me enough about what kind of man you are to agree to go out with you tonight. I just wanted to see how much of it you'd be willing to admit to."

"Now, I guess it's only fair to tell you about myself since your daughter already told me more about you than you'd probably like me to know," she said, grinning.

As I sat there, totally dumbfounded, as she proceeded to tell me about her too-short marriage, her husband's death in a car accident caused by an uninsured drunk driver, and the trials of raising her two girls on what the state gave her each month since she couldn't work until both girls were in school.

When she was done, I offered a toast: "To a beautiful woman and a wonderful mother." She blushed the most beautiful shade of red, and then joined me in the toast.

By now, the dancing had been going on for a while. Feeling that we'd talked enough for now, and needed some time to digest what we divulged, I asked if she'd like to dance. "I was hoping you'd ask," she said, smiling.

"Oh? You like dancing?" I asked, hopeful, as we stepped on the dance floor.

"Tony and I used to dance several times a week. I love dancing," she replied.

"Yeah, Melody and I used to dance a lot, too. My favorite was the Tango, then the Rumba, then ballroom dancing."

Mention of the Tango perked Monica right up. "You like to Tango?" she asked, her excitement showing.

"Love it. It's about as close as you can get to having sex in public without getting arrested," I teased. I saw a distant look cross her face for a few seconds and figured she was reminiscing about dancing with Tony.

"Sorry, didn't mean to leave you alone like that," she apologized.

"Not a problem, I understand the feeling all too well," I conceded.

"So, how good are you at the Tango?" she asked.

Holding back a smile, I answered, "Considerably above average."

"I guess we'll have to go dancing and see just how accurate your estimation is," she said smiling, a competitive gleam in her eye.

"Does that mean I rate a second date?" I teased.

"Mmmmm, just being yourself tonight rates a second date. Dancing the Tango rates at least a third, maybe more if you're any good," she teased, grinning. I watched her as we danced; her movements flowed together like a well-rehearsed, choreographed dance. She was definitely a natural, and I could definitely imagine her smooth, sensual, flowing motions dancing the Tango. Damn but she'd be hot out there.

The next dance was a slow dance, and she just flowed into my arms for the dance. As the dance progressed, she got closer and closer to me until her slender form was finally pressed tightly against me. As our bodies swayed together, I naturally had a reaction to her warm body pressed against mine.

 
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