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Chapter 50 – Dance lesson
Yana and I slept till around 8am, when the alarm went off. We had set the alarm. aiming to make the 9am mass. We were going to my church instead of Yana’s this time. Mainly because Yana was curious. But given our sexploits the previous night. I was feeling a bit sinful.
I don’t know why we were even going to mass. It had been decided long ago that I was the one who would convert. But I was learning how to be a good husband. And Yana wanted to see what an RC service was like. At least the once. So, I thought why not? It would get her off my back about it.
I nudged Yana, as usual she was dead to the world, and I was wet from my nightly activity of being Yana’s drool bucket. But I didn’t mind, it was one of the things that made her, her.
She didn’t stir, so I tried mum’s trick. I reached over her and squeezed her left ear. Yana awoke with a start.
“OWW.” Yana cried, rubbing her ear.
“And good morning to you too, my love.” I said to her.
“Good morning. I slept well last night.” Yana said.
“Yes I wonder why?” I jokingly asked.
“What’s the time?” Yana casually asked.
“Eight o’clock.” I said.
“What time is the thing?” Yana asked.
“Nine, nine o’ clock mass. We better get ready.” I said as I got out of bed, my morning wood prominent in front of me.
Yana also rolled out of bed on the other side of the bed. We both quickly dressed, and had a quick breakfast of toast and tea. Before cleaning our teeth. And going. To be honest we had both kind of forgotten about mass.
Yana was wearing a nice pale yellow short, sleeved blouse and black office type pants, as well as black leather slip ons with big buckles and small heels. She wore a pearl necklace and earrings as well as her engagement ring.
I just wore black cargo pants and a light blue button thru short sleeved shirt.
Yana was a bit disappointed I didn’t get dressed up for church, but she didn’t verbalise it.
We left and the church was ten minutes’ drive away on a Sunday, although given the fact that Yana was driving make it more like seven and a half.
We arrived just on 9am, 8:59 ish. We parked and walked briskly to the church. Yana putting a white lace headscarf on as she walked. I tried to tell her in this demonization it wasn’t needed. But she wouldn’t listen. I suppose a habit is a habit.
We hurried inside and sat in the back row just as the doors were closing.
We sat through the mass. Yana was fascinated. Some of things my religion did that her’s didn’t. Like the Rosary, praying on our knees. And the most obvious thing the sign of the cross the other way round. She also commented during the service about catholic churches seemed a bit under decorated. No pictures of saints etc. And she also commented on the difference in crucifixes.
Having sitting through it and taking communion. We were able to leave. As we were among the last to leave due to Yana taking it all in. We were approached by the priest as we were still in the pews.
“Is that you Jeson? I haven’t seen ye for a long time. How is things.?” Came a soft lilting Irish accent.
I turned around and there was Father Joesph. He was now in his seventies, but he was Irish.
“Oh, hello Father Joesph. Yes it has been awhile. This is my fiancé, Yana.” I said in reply.
“Ah it warms the cockles of my heart to see ye back. So, you’re getting married are ye? Strange I haven’t seen you come to me about officiating. Oh, I do hope she is a good wee catholic girl.” He said as if Yana wasn’t there.
“Ah, how do I put it? Yana is Russian and we are getting married by her priest.” I explained, as Yana scanned wide eyed around the empty church.
“Oh, I suppose, you’ll be leaving the church? Or is she comin’ o’er to us?” Joesph asked.
“I’m shall we say? Changing sides.” I explained.
“Oh, well if you ever change your mind.” Joesph said hinting that I could always come back.
“But as long as you make each other happy and if you ever have any lil’ ones. You know where I am.” Joesph jokingly said.
“Yes, I get your meaning Father. Oh, and it is quite ironic. Her priest is also Father Josef. But with an ef.” I jokingly replied.
“Ha, Now I don’t mean to keek you oot, but I better lock up.” Joseph said.
“Of course, we better be off too. Yana, let’s go.” I said looking around for Yana. She was walking around the church, taking it all in.
“Oh, yes be right there.” Yana answered and walked promptly back. I introduced Yana to Father Joesph again and then we made our goodbyes and hurriedly left.
We walked back to Shmel and as usual I drove us, Yana’s hand in its usual obligatory place.
I started Shmel up and asked.
“Right where to next?” I asked.
“Ah, we need to go to Natasha’s place but when I spoke to her I said I would bring lunch with us. So, we need to pick up some lunch and then go to her place from there.” Yana answered.
“Sounds good but what lunch do we get? Is there anything she won’t eat?” I asked Escort Yana.
“Let’s get some fish and chips, I feel like fish and chips, and a milkie.” Yana answered with a giggle.
“Sounds good, but it is a bit early to get lunch now. It’s not even eleven.” I said.
“Take me to the lagoon.” Yana said almost demandingly.
“Okay, that should fill in some time.” I said as I drove Shmel off in the direction of the lagoon.
The drive took us about ten minutes.
“Well, here we are.” I said as I found a parking space and parked.
“Spasibo, darling.” Yana said as she reached over and kissed me.
We both got out and I followed Yana, straight over to the swing set.
Yana climbed up onto the vacant swings.
“Push me.” Yana said.
“How could I refuse?” I sarcastically answered back to Yana.
“Spasibo.” Yana said back.
As I pushed Yana, I wanted to use this opportunity to talk with her, but she was just too busy enjoying the swinging, semi regressing back to her childhood. Or how I imagined how her childhood might have been.
After about twenty minutes of hardcore pushing. My arms started to get tired. So, I stopped pushing and just let Yana come to a slowdown and then a stop.
Yana came to a slow stop. Just as two little children came up waiting a swing. Accompanied by the father.
“Come on Yana. Let these kids have a go.” I teasingly said as I walked around the front of the swing set and helped Yana to dismount.
Yana and I then had a seat at one of the picnic tables. We both sat at the picnic table opposite each other. We had just got comfortable when Yana’s cell phone rang.
“It’s Natasha.” Yana said.
“Privet Natasha.” Yana answered the phone and then proceeded to have a conversation. Some of which I could pick up but most of it I couldn’t because of the speed of the conversation and the intermittent burst of giggling.
After about fifteen minutes of chatting. Yana said goodbye and placed the phone down.
Looking at me giggling.
“So how is Natasha?” I asked.
“Natasha is fine, she is expecting us whenever. We are to bring lunch.” Yana said.
“I knew that what else?” I asked.
“She asked what your dancing ability is like, have you ever done the waltz? And also, she asked me a question I have preferred not to ask.” Yana said.
“I have done the waltz once, but it was a long time ago.” I answered.
“I told her you were a young Rudolph Nureyev. But I wasn’t sure if you had ever done ballroom. But I did tell you that you have stripped a few times for me. And it was fantastic. Better than a professional stripper.” Yana said with a giggle.
“Did you now? It’s only been once or twice.” I answered back slightly embarrassed that Yana would share such details.
“Ha, you sound smushchennyy. And Natasha is my version of Thomas. You know how mothers met in pre-natal class, we were born in same hospital a week apart, lived in same apartments, went to same schools from kindergarten to high school. Even had the same boyfriend. Did I not tell you? And your stripping that night I came back from Rotorua, and we went open about our wedding, your striptease was neveroyatnyy.” Yana explained.
“Well, I knew you were close, and what were those two words? Smush? And Nevero somethings?” I asked.
“smushchennyy is embarrassed and neveroyatnyy is incredible. And you do look slightly embarrassed, and that night was incredible.” Yana said rubbing my hand.
“And the other question?” I asked.
“Oh, it is something I have been contemplating but not really thinking about. It concerns Shmel.” Yana admitted.
“What about Shmel?” I asked.
“I feel we won’t get a twin pushchair into him, and two car seats will be difficult. So, I have been reluctantly researching his replacement.” Yana explained.
“You have?” I asked, somewhat relieved that I didn’t have to brooch the subject.
“yes, it has been difficult because I like European and sporty type cars. I like Brandi’s Alfa. But impractical.” Yana said.
“So, you buying new or second-hand?” I asked.
“I thought new while I have the money from dumb ex.” Yana said.
“So, what’s on the list?” I asked.
“Only two. VW Golf wagon is top of the list, but I want it somewhat worked up like a R32. Or an Alfa Romeo wagon the 159.” Yana explained.
“Oh, and Shmel?” I asked.
“He becomes yours.” Yana said matter of factly.
“Spasibo.” I said in reply.
Yana just smiled.
“Spasibo to you too. Giving me these two.” Yana said, squeezing my hand.
“You know we have to drive past two car dealers a VW and an Alfa on the way to Natasha’s shall we call into both and have a smotrevshiy?” (looksie). I asked.
“Makes sense let’s do it.” Yana said standing up. I also stood up and we went back to Shmel.
We drove approximately fifteen minutes and went to the Alfa dealer first. Yana and I drove a demonstration model. She said she valued my opinion. Then we went to the VW dealer and had a drive Bayan Escort of both a Golf R32 and a golf wagon. Yana asked if the dealer had a tape measure. The dealer found one and gave it to Yana.
“See if stroller fit in.” Yana said to me. She reached into her back and looked at the measurements of a folded twin pushchair she had written on her pad. She measured the interior dimensions of the R32’s hatchback. Too small. Then measured the Wagon’s it would fit. Then she pulled me aside. She preferred the R32 to either the Wagon or Alfa. But the pram wouldn’t fit. So, it was out of the question.
Then we walked over to the dealer. If they could get a wagon made to R32 spec she would take it. Yana explained she liked the R32 but needed a wagon. And could she have the engine, suspension, interior of the R32 in the wagon. The logic being the R32 was based on a Golf so it should be feasible to do it.
The dealer said he didn’t know but would ring the principal dealer, after a 10 minute conversation the answer came back with a no. Yana, and I thanked him, and we disappointedly drove out. Yana made me drive back to the Alfa dealer.. Yana again borrowed the tape measure and measured the interior of the boot found the pushchair would fit with room over. She then approached the dealer and made arrangements to purchase. The dealer was surprised he didn’t expect to see us back again.
Yana and I made our selections for colour, interior etc. We ended up with a slightly souped up red 159 wagon with black leather, automatic 3.2 litre with 4 wheel drive. He was even more surprised when Yana offered to pay the whole lot in cash. Half expecting us to ask for finance. When cash was mentioned the dealer knocked 20% off the purchase price. But only wanted 20% deposit.
Yana paid it through EFTPOS, got the purchase agreement, and then we drove off in Shmel.
Stopping at the fish and chip shop on the way.
Yana and I got out, and walked in.
Yana ordering seven pieces of fish, two scoops of chips, three potato fritters and three milkshakes. One Strawberry, obviously for Yana, a Banana, and a lime. Yana mentioning that Natasha’s husband was out. Doing something with one of his brothers. Natasha had mentioned it on the phone when she rang earlier. We sat and waited for about ten minutes while the order was prepared. Yana snuggling into me. Yawning occasionally.
“Tired?” I asked.
“Da, been tired a lot lately, must be the mladentsy.” Yana said as she rested her head on my shoulder.
We talked nonchantantly about Natasha teaching us both how to waltz and Yana’s latest purchase. Then our order was called, and we went back to Shmel, me as usual opening the passenger door and letting Yana sit before passing down the newspaper wrapped food and the three milkies to her, before closing the door and getting in myself before driving off to Natasha’s. Yana’s hand in its usual place, my upper, inner left thigh. But she was sleepy.
Ten minutes later we parked outside Natasha’s house. I was going to park on the road, but Yana said I could park in the driveway in front of the Garage as Natasha asked us too. Besides it was a double garage and Natasha didn’t drive and her husband had their only car out anyway.
So, I parked Shmel, in the short driveway, in front of their garage. Turned him off, opened the door for Yana and got passed the large order of food. We walked to the front door, only about three or four meters away. Natasha opened the door and met us both on the outside path, patio, in front of her front door.
Yana and Natasha had a quick girly hello kiss on the cheek and a hug. Exchanging pleasantries in Russian. I came up behind carrying the food.
“Hello Natasha.” I said.
“Yes, Hello Jay nice to see you both again. Please let me relieve you of some of your burden.” Natasha replied. I handed her the large serving of fish and chips wrapped in newspaper.
Natasha was wearing a nice, very pretty ensemble of a pale blue cotton sundress with large yellow and white daisies printed on it. She also had matching daisy earrings on. Her Auburn hair was down, hanging loose over her shoulders.
“What? No kiss and hug for me?” I jokingly asked.
“Oh, sorry. But no kiss.” Natasha said as she playfully hugged me.
She then led us both into the house. Yana first, then me and then Natasha. I followed Yana in through Natasha’s front door and into her open plan living area. Yana put her bag down and then went to sit at the dining table as per Natasha’s gesturing.
Yana sat with her back to Natasha and myself. Then something unexpected happened. As Natasha was behind me and we were out of view of Yana. Natasha quickly pinched my ass, before I sat down. I don’t why. But she did and I didn’t respond to it. I just proceeded to sit down next to Yana. Wondering if what had just happened, happened. I placed the milkies down on the table and Natasha placed the wrapped up fish and chips on the table. Yana reached for the strawberry one of course.
“Banana Escort Bayan or Lime?” I asked Natasha.
“Lime please.” Natasha answered.
The three us talked over lunch. Anything personal was in Russian. Until Yana said.
“He understands most of it.” To Natasha’s shock and amazement.
“I have to say I am very surprised. My husband refuses point blankly to learn my language and so did Yana’s ex. But I can see Yana and I will have to be careful around you. No discussing our sex lives in Russian, eh?” Natasha said, I didn’t know if she was teasing or not.. It was decided that Natasha would be maid of honour and the waltz our first dance at the reception.
We ate lunch and then adjourned into Natasha’s garage which was made out like a den with carpet, so we could practice the waltz. Natasha explained the dance and then gave a short demonstration. Then motioned for me to join her, so I could get a feeling for the steps and Yana could watch. We danced the waltz together, even though I had done Ballet and modern since I was four years old I found the Waltz hard at first. A fact not aided by the fact that every time Natasha’s back was facing Yana. My ass was getting felt up with a combination of pinches and squeezes.
Natasha closed into me and softly whispered into my ear.
“Kakaya u tebya klassnaya zadnitsa.” (What a nice ass you have.) Natasha whispered.
Claiming she was giving me instructions.
After an hour of me dancing with Yana and Natasha we had a break. I found out more about Natasha. The fact that she was married in this country a week before Yana was married in Russia. She wasn’t a mail order bride. She had a civil service like a church service. And oddly enough she wore her wedding band on her left hand. Natasha even admitted that she had regrets that Yana couldn’t be her bridesmaid. A regret Yana echoed.
After a break of about 20 minutes. Natasha the slavedriver hurried us back to her makeshift dance studio. (I.e. her garage). And made Yana and waltz for about 30 minutes. Before pronouncing us ready. It also had the effect of making me hot and Yana tired.
Natasha ushered us back into the living area, Yana taking a three seater couch. Myself and Natasha taking the two seater. Natasha went to the kitchen to make tea. And by the time she returned. Yana was sound asleep, curled up on the couch.
“Oh, bless her. Must be the pregnancy, a PE teacher shouldn’t Need a nap after an hour’s dancing.” Natasha commented.
“Yes, she’s doing it a lot lately.” I commented back as Natasha sat next to me her legs curled up underneath her as she sat.
“We may as well as have this tea and have a, shall we say chat.” Natasha said as she handed me a cup of tea.
“So, what we going to chat about?” I asked casually as I sipped on my tea.
“Oh, this and that. I want to get to know you a lot better, I mean A LOT.” Natasha said as she snuggled in closer to me.
“Oh, like why you’re pinching my backside?” I asked directly.
“Oh, yes and other things.” Natasha cooed as she ran her hands over my shoulders.
“You are tense.” Natasha commented.
“Tense well having you massaging me while my fiancé who I believe is your oldest friend is literally not two meters away could be called tense.” I answered.
“Hmm, I didn’t hear you ask me to stop.” Natasha teased as she continued.
“What?” I asked.
“Jay, listen to me. I have known Yana our whole lives. You make her happy. All her life she has wanted what the Yanks would say the whole picket fence dream. The house, the husband who adores her, the kids. Blah, Blah. She has wanted this since she was six or seven. And her first boyfriend played her and I off against each other. Her first husband he was not so good. But you, you make her happy. And the fact she has twins.” Natasha said.
“Twins that we know of, she may have a third. As she would correct you if she wasn’t on the last train to sleepy-sleepy land.: I said as I gazed over at Yana curled up on the couch, drooling.
“Yes she most probably would. Now, tell me do you love her?” Natasha asked.
“Of course I do. Very much so.” I answered.
“Good. I hope you keep her happy. Now my turn. I am unhappy in my marriage; my husband is having an affair with a girl at his work. He says he is at a motorsport event with his brother today. But he is lying. He is out fucking a girl at work. She is Romanian. With the big tits and the big ass. I know because I see his email and he has booked a room at a seedy hotel, and always has lots of short calls on his phone, which are ‘wrong numbers’. And I need your help.” Natasha said.
“My help?” I asked furtively.
“Yes, Natasha said as she moved in closer to me, invading my space.
“How?” I asked.
“I want you to fuck me, Yana has told me how did a strip dance for her and later made her orgasm with a flower. I want you to do it to me, and then I want you to fuck my brains out. I want you to fill my pussy with your horsecock and give me two redheaded babies. Natasha matter of factly said as she laid a leg over mine, preventing my escape.
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
“I will tell Yana you seduced me, and then I will tell my husband. And believe me Yana will be pissed.” Natasha threatened.
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