Dancing With Mom Ch 01

Special thank you to Demiurging for helping me edit this chapter. Any grammatical errors are on me because I did some rewriting after the initial edit.

Warning: This story is a long slow burn.

All characters in sex scenes are eighteen or older.

Side note: Dancing with Mom is the first erotic story I ever wrote but not the first published. If you notice similarities between David Sato in this story and Carson Crigler in Employee Number One, that is because Carson was based on David.

Chapter 1: The Dance Begins

David

My parents' love story couldn't be cuter. Both were born on the same day in the same hospital. Sofia Aspidov was the oldest of three children born to young Russian immigrants. Haru Sato was also the oldest of three children born to young Japanese immigrants. As fate would have it, they also lived right next door with bedroom windows facing each other in their small town just north of Huntsville, Alabama.

From the cradle, they spent all their time together, with Haru being an intelligent, high-spirited boy and Sofia always chasing after him to care for Haru in the most loving way possible.

No one was surprised when Sophia turned up pregnant. Neither one was the type you would expect to get pregnant so young. Still, the bond between Sofia and Haru was undeniable, so it wasn't a surprise either. Being very practical, my grandparents signed all the legal paperwork to have Mom and Dad married. So during a high school summer break, Mom walked down the aisle heavily pregnant with me and married Dad.

Birth control was never an option for my Mom, and my Dad was allergic to latex. What followed were my baby sisters. Claire, two years younger; Stephanie, four years younger; finally, the twins Haley and Danielle, both six years younger.

What finally stopped the baby train was Dad getting drafted out of Vanderbilt University in the second round to the Tampa Bay Rays. Playing major league baseball put Dad on the road for half the year, which made my parent's sex life a lot more manageable.

From there, my Dad has had and was still having a good MLB career. Playing shortstop, Dad had always been able to sign with a team for at least ten million or more a year since his rookie contract ended. He has never been the star of any team's season, but the true MLB fans know who he is, even if he isn't the first or second autograph they ask for.

In his first six years, my Dad was traded eight times. So, when I graduated from the sixth grade, my Mom put her foot down on all the moving from city to city. So we set up a permanent home in a small mansion located on two thousand acres of rolling hills and woodlands an hour south of Nashville, Tennessee, and an hour north of my grandparents' homes.

For the past five years, our family arrangement has been for Dad to be on the road half the year playing baseball and at home the other half with us; while Mom raises us and runs her ballet studio just outside Nashville.

My parents were living their dreams, and I was living my dream of not only being a highly recruited high school football quarterback and baseball pitcher but also of finally fucking our school's lead cheerleader Sara Tiller.

I watched Sara's lithe body flex under the assault of my seven inches of pride. Her 5'5", 110 lbs frame barely held in her cries of ecstasy as my bare cock thrust in and out of her on my bed. Eye shut, she was entirely in the moment as she whimpered as I thrust in and out of her, finally sending Sara into a fourth orgasm of the afternoon.

I slowed my pace, letting her ride her high as I felt the velvety walls of her pussy grip my cock, trying to milk me for cum. Keeping myself fully inserted, I leaned down, pressing my chest against her B-cup-sized breasts, kissing her neck, and whispering sweet nothing into her ear.

When she finally recovered, I decided it was time to end this session. I pulled out, flipped Sara onto her belly, and pulled her hips toward me. With my left hand, I held her hips steady so I could reinsert my cock. With my right hand, I pushed her head into the mattress.

My 6'5", 225 lbs. frame had no problem manipulating Sara's tiny body. I eased my cock in slowly at first, inch by inch, making Sara think I was going to treat her with the same loving attention I had been for the past hour, but once fully inside, I pulled back almost all the way and slammed myself back into her as hard as she could take.

I wasn't making love to her anymore or even fucking her; I was marking my conquest. Hard slams meant to only bring me pleasure, I ignored her yelps of pain as I worked for my own climax. I slammed my hand against her ass, balls smacking her clit while the head of my cock rammed her cervix over and over again.

When I thought I couldn't hold out anymore, Sara's pussy contracted hard around my cock. The little slut had gotten off on my brutal pounding. I felt the walls of her vagina contract around my cock once again, this time earning their reward as I roared my orgasm for all to hear, spraying my cum deep inside Sara's womb.

Worn out by our fucking, I slid down next to Sara, reached into my nightstand, and pulled out a plan-B tablet. Handing it to her, she dry swallowed it and snuggled into my chest as I held her close in my arm and drifted off to sleep.

It was a loving act even though I didn't love Sara at all. In fact, my dream wasn't necessarily to fuck Sara Tiller. My dream was to fuck all the cheerleaders from my graduating high school class. Sara was just the last one to give in. After she finally dumped her boyfriend of five years, it only took me a week to talk my way into her panties.

I woke up around midnight from the need to piss. Quietly I snuck out of bed and headed to my private attached bathroom. Walking back to wake up Sara, I picked her panties up off the floor and tossed them into my dirty clothing hamper, my little perverted tradition of trophy collection. Then gently shaking her awake, I lifted the covers off her breasts. I planted soft kisses on her left nipple until she cooed and sat up. "Time to get dressed. Your Dad will be pissed if you're out any later."

"What a gentleman you are. Do you kick all the girls out right after cumming inside them?" she said with a smirk.

"More or less" To that, she opened her mouth in shock and hit me with a pillow, giggling.

Blindly reaching around, I found her waist and threw her on the bed, then quickly moved up to pin her arms. On top of her nude body, I looked into her eyes and said in my sternest voice possible, "You need to get dressed. Your clothes are by the bed, except your panties; those are mine now."

I watched as a look of understanding came across her face. The knowledge that she was still a number to me despite my loving touch sent a chill down her spine. I allowed her to get up and silently get dressed before she exited the room. I heard her start to cry as she entered the hallway, followed by the concerned voice of two of my sisters. I shut the door and went back to sleep.

At breakfast the following day, I walked down the long hallway and past the grand foyer towards the kitchen. I heard the chattering of my mother and four younger sisters as I stepped into the kitchen and sat down at the table. My middle sister, Stephanie, glanced in my direction and then immediately spun her head toward our mother "Mom, David made Sara cry last night!"

I was a little annoyed with my sister tattling on me like that, but only a little, because when I turned to face my mother, I got to see something very sexy; Mom staring at me with a glare that tried to be angry but looked more sultry than anything else.

Mom was raised as a ballerina by my grandmother, who was a ballerina back in Russia. Grandma was landing parts in big plays by the age of fourteen before coming to the United States with her mechanical engineer husband at the age of twenty-two. She trained my mother three hours a day on how to be a ballerina, and Mom absolutely loved it.

Mom always kept up with her training, even through her pregnancies and while raising her kids. She managed to turn her training into a job by becoming a teacher of ballet and other dances at the academy she runs in Nashville.

All those years of hard work made everything on her body tight. Mom stands at 5'10" and weighs 125 lbs. She has a slim, angular body with toned muscles from top to bottom. Her legs stretch for miles before reaching up to her small bubble-shaped butt. Her stomach is flat as a board, with abs peeking through when she exhales a breath, guiding you up to her size D breast implants that manage to look both large for her petite frame while still being elegant in her night dresses and ballet costumes due to her tall height. Her neck is elongated in a goose sort of way, making it the perfect place to plant kisses on, and her head is oval-shaped with a small mouth and nose. Her eyes are the most beautiful deep green you will ever see and are often covered by her long, naturally blonde hair that reaches down to her mid-back.

Mom looked at me and said, "We are going to have a talk after breakfast." I responded, "Yes, mama," with a smirk. I'd grown used to these talks. You don't bang dozens of girls without your parents noticing. I'd become a downright veteran of these sex talks with Mom and Dad, but I preferred them with Mom. I loved how her body moved in her tight clothing as she tried to talk to me about sex.

After breakfast, Mom and I left my sisters to do the dishes and shut ourselves in the study.

"So, do you plan on marrying Sara?" Mom asked

"No, just like every other woman you asked about."

"Honestly, David, you're too young to be sleeping around this much. How many women does that make? Ten? twelve?"

"Sure," I said with a slight smile, knowing the actual number was almost four times that.

"I don't need to know how many you've hidden from me."

"I don't try to hide any of them, Mom. They scream pretty loud, we just have a big house, so I'm the only one that gets to hear."

Shaking her head, Mom shifted in her seat; I noticed her crossed legs squeezed a little too tight.

"Just be safe; I'd hate to be a grandmother any time soon." She said as her left hand gently messaged her neck. Once again, Mom was getting hot just talking to me about sex. It was especially bad right now. The major league baseball season was four months old, and we had seen very little of Dad since late March. Mom never missed a chance to give me a sex talk. It seemed she was living vicariously through my sex life.

After giving me the usual talk about pregnancy and STI's Mom and I playfully bantered about for a little bit before it was time for me to head to the school for summer football practice. Going into my senior season, I was psyched for my team's prospects to win the state championship this year.

As a freshman, I had taken over as starting quarterback (QB) on the varsity football team. During week seven of my freshman year, both the first and second-string QBs went down with season-ending injuries in the same game. The following week the coaches brought me up to the Varsity team from the freshman team. In practice that week, I beat the Junior. Varsity QB out for the job, and by the Friday of week eight, I was officially my school's starting quarterback. I never gave up the position.

We lost in the first round of the playoffs my freshman year, but I led our team to the state semi-finals in both my sophomore and junior seasons. After falling one game short of the championship game both times, I was more than eager to start my senior season. That year, not only was I confident in my improved abilities but also in the improvement my teammates had made. This was the most veteran team I'd played on in all four years of high school.

Practice on that first official day back went smoothly. Coaches yelled, players complained about the heat, and fights broke out; all standard stuff, but the intensity and efficiency of the team was off the charts for so early in the year. We were almost in mid-season form, and it was only day one.

All the credit went to our head coach's wife, Mrs. Gold. She was a 5'8" brunette weighing about 140 lbs when I first met her. Pretty face and C-cup breasts. Mrs. Gold, over the summer, would individually call every player on the team to come to the "player-organized" practices six days a week. Then the guys and I would put in roughly two hours of drills after we had completed our weightlifting and conditioning workouts.

Mrs. Gold said she worked hard to help her husband win a state championship. She was actually working hard because I said I'd stop fucking her if she didn't help. I had been very flirtatious with her from the first time we met, and on my eighteenth birthday, she let me unwrap her as my present.

After practice, I showered and did my usual routine of texting a few girls and changed into my tights so I could help teach ballet at Mom's studio. The guys on the team always mocked me for wearing ballet clothing, but I knew they were jealous that I got to hold Mom in such tight positions that only lovers and performers get to hold each other in.

Mom is absolutely the locker room's favorite MILF. Her only competition had been Jacklin Miller, the Mom of one of our linebackers, Trevor. However, she was no longer in the running when she announced in August that she was once again pregnant. The child was mine.

Trevor hated his stepdad because he picked on him for being gay, so Trevor enlisted my help in "romancing" his mother as a way of getting revenge on his stepdad. Only Jacklin, Trevor, and I knew the baby was mine. Mom's concern about being a grandparent was already coming true, but I didn't see any need to tell her about it.

I sang along to my playlist as I arrived at the dance studio. Once there, I helped lead warmups, went over basic dance moves, corrected some of the choreography for the group's Fall performance, and stood in as the male lead for the other high school boy, who was on vacation at that time. Mom paid me $25 an hour for all this, and I typically worked 20-30 hours a week during the summer.

When the academy locked its doors at night, the only ones left inside were typically me, Mom, my sisters, and Mom's business partner Natasha. However, that night my sisters were attending a party, and Natasha was on vacation. I helped by cleaning the studios while Mom worked on paperwork. The academy was a fairly large operation. We had eight dance studios, a small stage with seating for fifty people in the audience, office space, and a coffee bar in the main lobby.

When the cleaning was done, I walked over to my mother's office area. "Mom, can I get a private lesson now?".

"Sure, honey. Which dance do you want to work on?" she asked with a cheery tone. Mom loved giving me private lessons in all sorts of dances, not just ballet. She spends her life learning them all.

"Bachata!" I said with enthusiasm.

Mom's smile turned to a disappointed frown. "I won't even teach you Salsa; what makes you think I would teach you bachata?" Bachata being a very fast-paced dance where the dancers often ground their groin on their partner's leg. I knew it was a far stretch for Mom. Still, I figured I'd ask as a negotiation tool for what I actually wanted, which was to dance salsa with my sexy mother.

With a hopeful smile, I said, "Fine, let's do Salsa then."

"No"

"Hey, you said I'd get a reward if I made straight A's in school last semester. I made straight A's"

"You always make straight A's; that demand was too easy for you. Besides, sweetie, I was thinking of a new speaker system in your car, not a lover's dance with your mother. I only dance Salsa with my female coaches and your Dad."

"Mom, I ask for very little and freely give my help whenever you need it. Can you please teach me salsa?" I asked with pleading in my eyes.

A look of loving concern came over Mom's face as she thought for a moment about how to get out of teaching her son the more sexual dances while letting me down softly. "Tell you what; I will call your Dad after his game tonight and ask if he is ok with me teaching you Salsa. If he's ok with it, then we can start lessons."

I did not expect her to actually agree to anything. In my excitement, I leaped forward and hugged my Mom tight. Being a sucker for hugs, she melted into my body, hugging me back. I enjoyed the warmth and tight embrace. That night I went to sleep eagerly awaiting for my answer the next day.

Sophia

As I sat on my bed wearing only white panties, I watched the TV as my husband came across the plate to score the game-winning run for the Colorado Rockies, 7-6 final. His teammate had hit a single to right field, which was all that was needed to bring Haru home from third base.

I thought about how I wished he was coming home for real. I needed him to fuck me. I needed to feel a real cock inside me, shooting real cum deep in me. As much as I loved my dildos, vibrators... and Natasha, there is no substitute for real live man meat.

The last time Haru was home was during the all-star break, but we couldn't have sex because I was at peak fertility that week. The month before, when he was home for 4 days, it was the same story as the month before.

It had been March the last time I had a dick inside me, and everything was turning me on. I found that I wanted my son David to go into details about the sluts he banged just to hear a man talk passionately.

The broadcast wrapped up, and I waited for Haru's post-game call. He always called me after the game was over.

Forty-five minutes later, my phone started ringing. I answered it with the girlish glee I always got when I saw Haru was calling. That feeling had never gone away for me. We have had plenty of routine marriage problems, but I always swooned so quickly when it came to Haru, I couldn't help it.

After talking for ten minutes about our days, I asked the question David wanted me to ask. "Haru, David wants me to teach him Salsa. I wanted to know how you felt about that."

"I don't see a problem; is there a reason you don't want to teach him?"

"It's a seductive dance, and he's my son."

"Yes, but his hands are already all over you with ballet and the other dances. I don't see a big difference."

"It's not just that; it's that I've always associated Salsa with sex. That's why you're the only man I've danced salsa with."

"Can you not turn that feeling off when dancing with David?"

"I can with ballet, ballroom, country, and all the others, but I don't know if I can with Salsa. But it's not just the dance. David's conquests have been getting more frequent and brazen; it makes me horny just thinking about our son's sex life. I don't want to start feeling horny for our son." An admission like that may have seemed strange or difficult for most couples, but Haru and I never held our thoughts back from each other. Not even ones that would embarrass most couples to death, like a mother worrying about getting turned on by her son.

"Hmmm, I can't help you there until I come back and fuck you properly, but I know David really wants to learn Salsa. It's fine with me if you teach him. I trust you."

I didn't expect Haru to give his consent to me teaching David. I hesitated a little on the phone before answering, "Ok, I'll think about it."

I chatted with Haru for another ten minutes before we hung up for the night. My mind was uneasy. Haru said it would be alright if I taught David salsa, but I couldn't make myself feel ok with the idea.

I vaguely remembered dreams about Haru and David when I woke up the following day. Stretching out my legs, I felt the cotton cloth covering my pussy was completely soaked. I collapsed back into bed, thinking of how I needed to change the sheets. I let out an exasperated breath, saying, "I need to get laid." Before getting up, stripping my soaked panties and heading to the shower to start the day.