Dangerous Liaison - Sex Stories

Dangerous Liaison

... varying degrees of interest, or disdain.

"Perhaps you would like to interview me before making any decisions. It may be that I interview terribly and you decide unanimously that I'm not suitable at all."

I made this suggestion gently and in fluent French. Mrs Bassett and Manon Alexandre exchanged a small smile before I was waved to a seat.

"What a sensible idea."

I had been appointed, and Manon had lost two more judges, which I suspect she had been rather pleased about, having inherited them from her father. Everybody else had been welcoming.

A wonderful French ballet dancer had joined us, having recently retired after dancing well into her fifties.

And Manon had asked me if I thought my ex-partner would be interested in the final position.

The Paris competition was randomly selected. You could be matched with any other entrant, which is why same-sex partnerships were not uncommon. Although it was rare for them to win.

It was even rarer for someone to be matched with their usual dance partner, but that's what happened to me the last time I took part. And that had undoubtedly given us a massive advantage.

Kirsty was a few years younger than me, but a wonderful talent. I had been devastated when she had stopped dancing after my injury and even more so that she had broken off all contact.

When I explained to Manon about the difficulty she had been dismissive. "I know all about that," she confirmed. "It's time the girl moved on. You don't blame her, ...

... do you?"

"Of course not. It was an accident."

"Well then. Let's go and see her."

I had found myself back in the States, walking into a room where my ex-dance partner now coached teenagers for state level competition.

Manon had gone in ahead of me to ask if she was interested in the role. Kirsty was, of course, and I had heard her clearly when she spoke of how much she could bring back to the kids and her classes from such an experience.

"And you won't have a problem working with our new head coach?" Manon had asked, with an inbuilt flair for dramatics.

"I usually get on with everybody," Kirsty had answered. "But I don't know who your new head judge is?"

"Young Armenia, here," Manon had flung out an arm to introduce me. I walked quickly in from where I had been lurking in the corridor, and gathered Kirsty into my arms. Armenia is not a common name and she was halfway to the floor already.

"Hey gorgeous," I whispered into her hair.

"Oh, Armenia!" She clung to me, squeezing hard and crying.

I laughed, so happy to see her, and gave her a swing. "I've missed you. So much."

I didn't know whether I was going to be a good head judge. Today was my first day on the job. But even if I got kicked out, I would always be grateful to Manon for putting me back in touch with Kirsty.

Still only halfway through the first day. This was known as a tough day, as half of the competitors would not make it to the next round. This was where we separated the talent ...