Maks lounged lazily on a hard bench in the mirror-clad practice room. His swarthy good looks, chiseled body and bad boy image had made him the object of lust for women viewers of the hugely popular TV show 'Dancing With the Stars'. The perpetual sneer that never seemed to leave his face was even more pronounced this day since he was here somewhat against his will. He did not like being told what to do.
His given name was Maksim Chmerkovskiy. That combination of jumbled vowels and consonants was fortuitously reduced to 'Maks'. He knew in the fast-paced media world it was good to have a short, memorable handle like Maks. Does one ever question who Cher or Madonna is after all?
Maks was living the quintessential American dream. His parents gave him the opportunity to attain stardom by emigrating from Russia to the United States when he was young. Maks did the rest himself by perfecting his dancing and parlaying his deadly handsome face and hard body into national attention.
'Dancing With the Stars' was the perfect illustration of being in the right place at the right time for Maks. The show debuted to a small viewer audience but grew rapidly over the next few seasons. Maks had been partnered with D-list stars in previous seasons, always saddled with women who seemed to have two left feet. Fortunately, Laila Ali entered his life in the 2006 season.
Although Ali was as strong and domineering as he was, she and Maks managed to forge a truce that led to the finals and the recognition he craved. From that moment on, his fan mail exploded. Many of his female fans included suggestive invitations and often, x-rated photos.
The 2007 season was shaping up to be his best ever. Maks felt he was paired with the hottest celebrity dancer ever to be on the show. Melanie Brown was Scary Spice from the hugely successful Spice Girls. Not only did she have goddess-like beauty but she exuded sex appeal with her voice and charm. The best part was that Melanie could freaking dance! Maks felt sure he was destined for the finals this year.
Because world-wide attention was so close to being his, Maks was pissed off for having to cool his heels in this nondescript dance studio. He should be practicing with Melanie but his agent called him and enticed him to show up at this time and at this out-of-the-way location. Additionally, he had to sign a mysterious non-disclosure agreement before coming.
The agreement was simple. Maks was to evaluate the dancing skills of an unnamed person. He was contractually bound to never reveal whom this person was or speak to the media about the dance session. The penalties were severe if the terms were ever violated. As annoyed as he was about this interruption of his schedule, he was also intrigued. Who was he going to evaluate? Probably an overweight has-been star with delusions of grandeur he thought to himself sourly.
Glancing at his new Breitling Airwolf watch (given to him by a grateful Laila Ali), he saw that his 'client' was 45 minutes late. Maks realized this might be the easiest money he ever made for doing nothing but sitting on a hard bench. He had been paid $25,000 for signing the agreement and showing up at the appointed hour.
A timid knock sounded on the studio door. The door slowly opened and a head peeked inside the room.
"Hello? Anyone here?" questioned the mystery person in a soft voice.
Maks' client entered the room wearing huge, black sunglasses and a grey trench coat designed to disguise whomever it was.
"Yes, yes, come in please", Maks stated in his distinctive Russian accent.
All of Maks' irritation dissolved when it finally dawned on him who was behind the disguise. His arrogant expression left his face momentarily when he realized that he was about to interact with one of the most recognized faces on the planet. Her gorgeous face was on the front page of nearly every gossip magazine in the supermarkets.
Jennifer Aniston pulled off her sunglasses and smiled shyly at Maks, revealing the endearing dimple that made her so famous in "Friends."
"Hello Maks. I'm Jennifer Aniston. I apologize for all the secrecy and I hope you will forgive me for keeping you waiting."
Maks stammered, "Um, no problem Ms. Aniston. I am very pleased to meet you. I have been a fan of yours for many years."
"Maks, I'm sure you are wondering what this secretive meeting is all about. I have been approached to be a celebrity dancer on "Dancing With the Stars" next year. As you well know, the show usually features celebrities that are past their prime, if you know what I mean."
"Ms. Aniston, I do know what you mean. I danced with Willa Ford one season after all," Maks grinned, regaining some of his composure.
"Well then, you probably appreciate how hesitant I am to expose myself to ridicule on national television. I know the judges can be brutal and cruel to celebrities who cannot dance to their standards," Jennifer stated as she evaluated Maks, who was now standing closer to her.
Maks edged closer to Jennifer and in his husky Russian accent stated, "Ms. Aniston, I can assure you I can teach you things that you never thought yourself capable of doing."
Jennifer looked a little startled at the double entendre statement and said, "Um, well, I'm sure you are a very good dance teacher, Maks. That is why I am here. What I need to find out is if I'm good enough to be on the show and not ruin my career."
She lowered her eyes and continued, "I have an admission to make. I absolutely adore dancing and the show. Do you know the saying, 'dance like no one is watching'? That's me. I dance alone in my home where no one is watching. I have no idea if I can dance with someone of your caliber in front of millions of people. I see you and the others on TV and can only dream of gliding so gracefully across the dance floor."
"Do you think I'm silly?" Jennifer questioned quietly.
Maks was stunned. Here was a beautiful, world-famous woman who could name her price for movies or appearances showing her vulnerability to him, a simple Russian immigrant who knew how to ballroom dance.
"Ms. Aniston, I can assure you I understand your love of dance. It is my life and I love to share my passion with people who desire to dance well. You've come to the right person to answer the questions in you mind," Maks stated fervently.
Jennifer sighed with relief. Her face lit up with a wide smile that made her eyes crinkle in her trademark style. She giggled, "I'm so excited I feel like a little girl going to my dance recital in 3rd grade!"
"Well, shall we begin Ms. Aniston?" asked Maks.
"Not until you drop the formality, Maks. I'm Jen to my friends and I want you to be my friend from the start," Jennifer stated firmly.
"Ok, um, Jen. If I forget, please don't hesitate to step on my toes," Maks said slyly as he peered at Jennifer through his sleepy, sensual eyes.
"Great! How do we start? What should I do first?" Jennifer asked with endearing perkiness.
"First, I would like you to take off your outer clothing. I assume you came dressed in some sort of dancing outfit?"
"I wasn't sure what to wear so I wore a dance leotard but I also brought a tango dress that I've been dying to wear," she gushed. Her honey blond hair was loosely bound in a pony-tail that swung back and forth as she spoke.
Jennifer went over to the bench Maks had lounged upon and set down her sunglasses. She then shrugged off the loose-fitting trench coat she was wearing. She was turned away from Maks at that moment and as she removed her coat Mats was treated to the delight of seeing her perfect bottom tightly encased in a scarlet leotard. She had matching warm-up socks hanging loosely around her ankles. Her spectacular legs were bare and confirmed why she was such a famous sex symbol.
Maks felt a stirring in his groin as he watched Jennifer shed her coat. He was one of the few heterosexual dancers on the show and knew a quality ass when he saw it. As Jennifer finished putting her coat down, she turned suddenly and caught Maks eyeing her body.
"Do I at least look like a dancer?" she asked Maks impishly.
"Ms. Aniston, um, I mean, Jen, if looks translated to ability you would win first place immediately," Maks said with ill-disguised admiration.
Jennifer lowered her head at the compliment and while her eyes were off him, Maks surveyed the front of her body. Her leotard was skin-tight and showed every delicious curve of her torso. Her breasts were small but appeared to be very firm and were obviously unsupported by a bra. Maks noticed that her nipples were standing erect and showed clearly through the Lycra fabric.
What astounded Maks the most was the cut of the bottom part of the leotard. She was wearing a 'pinch-front' design that barely covered the womanly treasure between her legs. Edyta was one of the few professional dancers could wear that style without looking ridiculous, much less a celebrity. Marie Osmond would look like a pig in a tutu wearing this particular dance outfit.
Maks' breath was taken away by what appeared to be one of the most desirable women in the world displaying to him a perfect camel toe. The stretchy material of her leotard was molded around her pussy lips and the gap between her upper thighs was easily the size of a full fist. As he gazed at the incredibly stirring sight, Jennifer casually reached down, hooked her fingers under the leotard, and adjusted it around her crotch.
Jennifer grinned playfully and said, "I hope this old thing be ok for our tryout."