Learning the Dance

Learning the Dance

 

by

 

Archetype

 

 

The noblest of men have thoughts that would scare the Devil himself.

 

 

Prologue

 

“Christ!” thought Michael Sharpe. “What do I do now?”

 

Michael was watching the e-vids on his mail terminal. The face on the screen expressed sympathy but the words were clear -- someone else had been offered the teaching position at Oberlin College, and had accepted. Michael's last chance at an academic job had just disappeared.

 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Michael leaned away from the screen and closed his eyes. The last four years - all his efforts - all the crap he had taken from his advisors - the money he had spent - all of it collapsed into a black despair. “What the fuck do I do now?”

 

Three months earlier Michael had been in a better mood. He had just been awarded his PhD in Psychology at the University of Toronto and the prospects of a job had seemed bright. All his interviews had gone well, and he had been invited out to several campuses for visits. The visits had gone well. But when the department head contacted him afterwards, it had always been a prerecorded e-vid: “Sorry - no job for you.”

 

“Fuck!” Michael got up to leave. He had no place in mind. As he walked out through the door his terminal binged with the sound of an incoming message. He stopped, looked at it, and decided to go back.

 

The screen came up with the secure mail logo and prompted him for his security code. This was weird. He almost never got secure mail. He entered his code and the screen flashed briefly, resolving into a simple typed message: “Please meet Mr. Dominic D'Attillio at Le Caveau Restaurant at 12:00 noon today for lunch. It is a matter of some importance.”

 

Michael stared at the screen. Dominic D'Attillio? He had never heard of the guy. Typing swiftly, he brought up the mail headers for more information, but the sender's address was hidden. His curiosity aroused, he started typing faster, attempting to discover more about the message. Michael's four years at graduate school had left him with some skills at the computer, but nothing had prepared him for what he found out next. Nothing. Within ten seconds the message file itself had disappeared, leaving no trace. Michael was left staring at the screen, astonished.

 

It was this electronic vanishing act, as much as anything, that convinced him to go to lunch.

 

An Interesting Lunch

 

 

Michael arrived exactly on time at the restaurant dressed in the suit he had bought for his job interviews. “Might as well use it for something,” he had thought. He knew the restaurant, but had never been inside before. All he really knew was that he couldn't afford to eat there.

 

A very large man approached him immediately. Michael decided to speak first. “I was asked to meet a Mr. D'Attillio here today at noon. Is he here?”

 

The man's face remained impassive, but his eyes softened as they examined Michael. Certainly the man had been expecting him, and Michael thought he saw something in his eyes -- respect? It was strange. The man bowed imperceptibly and said: “I will take you to him. Please follow me.”

 

Michael was led toward the back of the room. He saw that the place was fairly crowded -- mostly with couples but there were a few larger groups of what could be executives at lunch. Finally they stopped in front of a table near the back wall at which were seated a man and a woman. The large man pulled out a chair and gestured with his hand for Michael to take a seat.

 

“Doctor Sharpe.” said the man at the table, with a smile. “Welcome. Please sit down. I am Dominic D'Attillio.” He did not get up, but stretched out his hand and shook Michael's warmly.

 

“I'm pleased to meet you.” Michael replied. He felt better at the genuinely warm welcome. As he began to sit in the offered chair he looked across the table at the woman, making to reach out his hand to her as well.  Something made him stop. A flood of sensations went through him at that point. This woman was gorgeous. She was also -- it was the only word -- expensive. Her blond hair was intricately curled on top of her head with several long strands hanging down each side of her face. And her face itself was stunning – aristocratic. The skin was soft and creamy, and her lips were delicate but still full and sensuous. Her eyes remained downcast, and he could not see them.

 

She was dressed in a light blue tailored suit that even Michael could tell was made for her. The jacket covered her right up to the neck, where it ended in a collar that ringed her throat. But Michael could not look down. He kept staring at the girl’s face because he had just realized that below her neck the blue fabric was held out by an incredible pair of breasts. He could not look at them directly, here in public, in front of two men he had barely met. But there was a sudden blaze in his crotch that he fought to control followed swiftly by a surge of anger at the weakness he felt.

 

He became aware of the sitting man's eyes watching him. Shaking his head slightly, he forced his gaze down to the table, and then looked at Dominic. He was still half standing. But no words came out, and he must have looked quite helpless.

 

Dominic's eyes sparkled and his smile turned into a wide grin. “You must excuse me,” he said. “Doctor Sharpe, this is Miss Mandy Grey.” Michael looked back at the vision seated across from him and this time he did reach out his hand. Dominic spoke again softly: “Mandy, you may greet Doctor Sharpe.”

 

The girl's eyes rose to focus on his and Michael was again transfixed. Her eyes were large and dark and her gaze direct - even childlike - but Michael could also see that she was agitated. He realized the girl was very nervous – she was perhaps even more nervous than he at this point. Why? Why would she be anxious about meeting him?

 

She spoke, and her voice was soft: “I am very pleased to meet you, Sir”. Michael was hypnotized by the delicate movements of her lips. Then their hands met, and her fingers moved lightly over his before grasping him briefly. The touch electrified his fingers even as she withdrew her hand and placed it in her lap once again.

 

Michael's crotch was on fire and his ears were ringing. It took a real effort to calm down. Finally he sat and looked at Dominic. His tone was formal. “I must thank you for this invitation. But you have me at a great disadvantage. Why am I here?”

 

Dominic smiled again and raised both his hands in a gesture of friendly apology. “Doctor Sharpe, I know a great deal more about you than you can imagine. I know you are looking for a position, and by the end of lunch today I am going to offer you something that I am sure you will find most attractive. Please relax. It will take some time to explain, and the food here is excellent. There are a great many things here that you do not understand.”

 

“Well, that part is certainly correct.” Michael reached for his napkin.

 

“It is. Let me start at the beginning. You were born and raised in here in Toronto by your mother, who died three years ago. This is correct?”

 

Michael nodded, not really surprised that someone who could make an e-vid disappear could also find out information that would be widely available on the hyperweb.

 

“You never met your father.” Dominic was looking at him closely.

 

Michael just shrugged. “It's true.”

 

“Michael, this will sound very strange. But you have met your father. You are looking at him.”

 

Michael sat back. He didn't believe it, necessarily, but it was a shocking thing to hear even so. “You?” He began to examine the man's face more closely, and listened more carefully to the sound of his voice.

 

“I'm afraid so. Your mother worked for me many years ago, and she became pregnant. She managed to -- ah -- she left my employ before I knew about you, and it took me some time to find her. She was an intelligent woman, your mother. Very smart. And very beautiful.”

 

Watching him, Michael was beginning to believe that it might be possible.

 

“Yes, she was. But she never said anything about you. She told me my father had died before I was born. And that we were living off his insurance for many years.”

 

“Well, that was not true. Your mother loved you, and brought you up well. Once I discovered where she was and that she had a child, I found ways to provide for her and for you. I don't know why - it is a bit out of character for me.” Michael saw a strange look in Dominic’s eyes at that point, and his own narrowed slightly. “Then, two years ago I began to take a new interest in you.  I am now in a position to help you again.”

 

Dominic sat back suddenly as the waiter arrived. “But this is all a bit much to learn at once. Here is our first course.” Both of them were silent as they were served. After the waiter left Dominic began to speak again, and as the time passed Michael began to form the opinion that he was telling the truth. It was clear that Dominic was a strange man, and held many secrets. But Michael was a complicated man himself, and he trusted his instincts.

 

Michael was insatiably curious about the woman who sat quietly across from him, and he managed to examine her on more than one occasion. He learned little. Not once did she speak or raise her eyes.  Dominic made no attempt to include her in the conversation, although he did look at her quite openly from time to time. The girl received no food, and her hands remained in her lap. Yet her posture was confident. Her back was straight and she appeared almost to be thrusting her breasts forward. She sat like a doll on display. Michael at first was uncomfortable with this – he had never been in a group where one person was so clearly subordinate to another.  But he could not ignore the blaze in his crotch.

 

By the time dessert arrived, Michael was beginning to believe that Dominic really could be his father. This realization led to no great emotion in Michael. He had never had a father, and never expected to have one. This man was interesting, but the fact that he might be his father was somehow irrelevant. It was the girl sitting across the table that continued to excite and interest him. He began to wonder what would happen next.

 

“Michael, I said that at the beginning of lunch I was in a position to offer you something of great interest. This offer is very hard to describe -- you will have to be shown what is involved. But I know enough about you and I have learned enough from meeting you to trust this decision.”

 

“What offer? You will have to tell me more than this.”

 

“Yes, of course, and I will. But not now. You will have to come to my home and there you will see what is involved.”

 

Michael stared at him for a moment. “Well, yes of course I will be pleased to come to your home. But surely you can tell me something more.”

 

It was Dominic's turn to stare. Then he said simply: “I would like you to take over my business.”

 

With an air of finality, Dominic motioned to the large man who had been standing nearby the whole time. The man swiftly moved behind and helped him to his feet. Once standing, Dominic motioned to the girl, who also stood. Dominic took her hand and the three of them turned to leave.

 

“Wait, please. Where is you house? When should I arrive?”

 

“You will be contacted,” said Dominic, looking back. Then he smiled again - his grin an odd mix of affection and something more conspiratorial. “I think you will be pleased.”

 

Michael remained at the table as they walked slowly through the restaurant to the front door. Really, he just stared at the girl. She was of medium height – maybe about 5’6”. From the back she was slim but very shapely. Her suit came with a skirt that went to mid thigh, and her legs were bare – slim and elegant in high heels. The blue fabric of the jacket lay smoothly across her buttocks, revealing a tight, shapely ass. As she turned sideways to move to the door  he saw that incredible chest. His crotch blazed again and finally he could reach down to adjust himself.

 

Michael sat at the table for some time longer. Then he got up and left the restaurant, walking swiftly. There were some things he needed to know about Mr. Dominic D'Attillio.