My name is Francis and I teach ballroom dancing to adults. Because I teach full time, usually evenings, I'm not too anxious to go clubbing, or to parties. I live alone, but I used to be married. I was in the Marine Corps when I met my ex. She was teaching fifth grade. My ex was so jealous, thinking about what I did with my younger ballroom students, whether I was really teaching them to dance or fucking them. She'd quiz me every night, who did I teach, how old was she, what did she look like. Did she have big boobs. If I taught couples, she'd ask about the wife. How old was she, did she proposition me, did she cheat on her husband. My ex wasn't getting any sex from me, but she didn't run around. When I got home she reminded me how many times she masturbated. That was supposed to make me feel guilty. But really, I didn't give a shit. She could work her way through a dozen cucumbers. I didn't give a shit. We got a divorce.
I like living alone. My students are like family. But it changed one day when Al called me. Al, my old Marine Corps buddy, called me with an interesting invitation.
"Hey, Francis, we're having a retirement party for Sally's girl friend, Megan. Can you come?" I hesitated. "Megan is really hot." Al added.
"OK, Al. When is it?" Sally was Al's wife.
"Sunday night. You can come as you are ..." My usual dress was black trousers, black shirt, black patent leather shoes. I didn't need a wardrobe. No fancy suit. I looked like I was going to enter a ballroom dance competition.
I thought it unusual that Sally's girlfriend was retiring. Is she that old? I visualized a 50 year old woman, overweight, with sagging boobs. I'd have to listen to her drone on about her grandchildren.
When I arrived at Al's home, I was surprised to see so many people in uniform. There were Navy officers and their wives, and a few Marine Corps officers in dress blues. No wives. There were two woman Marine officers. There was Sally waving at me, trying to get my attention. Sally was a trophy wife, as they say. She was an awesome tennis player as well as a surgical instructor at USC medical school. I hate to admit this, but I did play tennis with Sally one time, and I spent most of my time ducking her 90 mph serves.
You don't need great intellect to become a dance instructor, but my students did call me Dr. Francis because of my reputation as a sex therapist.
I arrived on time, actually a bit early. I'm compulsive about being on time.
"Francis, let me introduce you to Megan." Sally offered.
Standing, talking to a Marine Corps officer, I spotted Megan. How do you describe gorgeous? She was a brunette, 5'6", with her hair cut to her shoulders. She had thick eyebrows, full lips, and beautiful green eyes, wearing a white cocktail dress that reached just above her knees. She appeared very trim. And stood erect.
Sally added, "Francis, we're so proud of Megan. We all graduated college together but only Megan enlisted. Megan is a jet fighter pilot. Or she used to be ..."
I was stunned. What the fuck do I say to a jet fighter pilot?
"Hi, a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."
"Francis, don't call me ma'am. I'm retired. I'm a forty five year old civilian now."
I laughed. "Sorry about that, Megan. It's my Marine Corps training."
"Oh, you were a Marine?"
"Yeah." She was impressed. I hope she doesn't ask what rank I held.
Not wanted to appear a complete idiot, I asked, "What jets did you fly?"
"Mostly the F-14. The Tomcat. It's a two seater."
She continued, "My co-pilot on the F-14 was a lesbian. Joyce was always after me to go out with her ..."
My interest perked up. "Did you go out with her?"
"Twice. But I think I prefer men." She continued, " I have some gay friends. I don't trust guys with beards. They're hiding something. I like a man who knows how to treat a woman. Open to new possibilities... shall we say."
She didn't realize she was speaking to Doctor Francis.
"Megan, I am not a guy who talks about all the women I've fucked - er, made love to ..." She laughed. "But, Francis, you must have had a lot of students who want to sleep with you."
