Dancing Backwards free porn video

NOTE #1: If you are offended by stories that lack crude, foul, or profane language, then this story is not for you. Likewise, if you are looking for descriptions of explicit sex or violent and aggressive behavior, you will have to look elsewhere. NOTE #2: This story is my property, but you may post it anywhere that makes it available to readers for free. If you do post it somewhere, please include all of it, including the comments and glossary that appear after the story. And please let me know at: [email protected]. NOTE #3: All comments, compliments, criticisms and even flames are welcome. Send to: [email protected]. NOTE #4: Much of this story takes place at a modern square dance. For those unfamiliar with square dancing and its terminology, there will be a short explanation and glossary at the end. Dancing Backwards By Sue Kidder I'm always nervous when my wife starts experimenting. She is an electronics engineer and an inventor. After spending all day at work designing some new version of a portable CD player or DVD and television combo, she is ready to come home and invent something nobody has ever seen before. "Those clowns at the office don't want anything new, they just want the same old stuff packaged in a prettier box. They're like the Hewlett- Packard bigwigs when Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak offered them the personal computer. No imagination!" I'd heard the argument many times. And I agreed with it. After all, my job programming computers at the insurance company is just as dull. That's why I like to spend my time at home designing and programming new games and other graphics-intensive software. The only graphics an insurance company is interested in are bar charts of population and age demographics. Valerie knew her business and so far had invented several things I thought were very useful. I still don't know why her six-digit digital clock radio didn't catch on; why is the world satisfied with only four digits displayed on their clock radios? They buy wristwatches and wall clocks with second-hands; why do they not want to see the seconds displayed on their digital clock radios? As soon as the patent process is done on Valerie's VCR enhancement, we expect to make some good money on it. She modified our VCR by adding a speech compression circuit so we could still hear the sound in the fast search mode. This way we can speed through the scenic parts of a movie without missing any off-screen dialog and sometimes we can watch a whole movie in twenty minutes. The speech compressor makes the sound comprehensible without making everybody sound like chipmunks. Everybody can understand speech much faster than it is normally spoken. It's an incredible time saver. Her latest project was supposed to be some kind of electronic telepathy. According to her, this would make cell phones, walkie- talkies and citizen's band radio obsolete. People could communicate mind-to-mind, able to convey all the sense, emotion and context of a message without the limitations imposed by a simple voice or voice-and- picture media. Eventually, she expected to add channels for the visual cortex so the people you're communicating with could actually see what you were seeing. At that point, even radio and television might become obsolete. That was the plan. At the time this little adventure commenced, she was simply testing some theories and bread-boarded circuits to see if it could actually be done at all. Her test apparatus looked like something out of a mad scientist's laboratory, with two complicated helmets attached to large circuit boards and wires everywhere. All this stuff occupied most of our basement, which has always been Valerie's workshop. It looked very intimidating, even scary. It was a rainy Saturday morning and I had decided to catch up on some sleep. Normally I would have been up and at my computer, but I don't like to program when there is a thunderstorm going on. Nothing is more frustrating than keying in two pages of code and having the storm knock the electricity off. It's not that it is so difficult to re-key the code, but I hate having to do it, so I just decided to stay in bed. I really need to buy an uninterruptible power supply. Maybe someday. It was not to be. Valerie came into the bedroom, slapped me on the rump and said, "Get up, sleepyhead! I need your help downstairs, Victor. I want to try my new gizmo out and I can't do it by myself." "Mmmmph. Gizmo?" I inquired intelligently. "Okay, so I haven't given it a name yet. What do you suggest? Telephone, for telepathy and sound? It's been done, although the 'tele' part had nothing to do with telepathy." "How about 'Mentat' after those brainy guys in Frank Herbert's DUNE books?" I suggested. "On the other hand, 'telepathy' is perfectly appropriate. Take the 'tele' part from the Greek, meaning 'at a distance,' and the 'pathy' part from the Greek 'pathos' meaning suffering or feeling. Nowhere does it say it has to be extrasensory or supernatural, as opposed to electronic." I was almost awake, but didn't intend to dress. My plans were to get this over with and return to my nice comfortable bed. I knew Valerie wouldn't let me get anymore sleep until I helped her test her 'gizmo.' I followed Valerie downstairs to the basement. She liked to call it her "la-boora-tree" like some deranged scientist from an old movie. I had to admit, it evoked that kind of image, with all the electronic gadgets, instruments, wires and weird components all over the place. All it lacked were some colorful liquids bubbling in beakers over Bunsen burners and a Jacob's Ladder buzzing spectacularly in the middle of the room. She had placed an old folding chair next to one of the workbenches and had the barstool she used when laboring on her inventions at another workbench. Beside each seat was one of the strange helmets, with each helmet linked to a massive array of electronics by several multi-wire cables. "Sit in that chair and put that helmet on your head. Then just sit still for a few minutes. I'm going to put this helmet on and try to 'send' you a short verse," she instructed me. "Your job is to tell me what you 'hear,' if that is the appropriate word." I was somewhat less than eager to hook myself into this mess of electronics. But, after all, Valerie always helped me user-test my software, so I could hardly refuse. I sat on the folding chair and lifted the strange helmet onto my head. Surprisingly, it was not as uncomfortable as I expected, even though it was a bit on the heavy side for a helmet. Of course, Valerie had assured me that this was merely the prototype. Once the circuits had been tested and refined, they would be condensed into a microchip that would eventually be implanted under the skin behind the ear. I had a hard time imagining all this tangle of wires and components fitting under my skin. Valerie put her helmet on then started fiddling with a small control panel set upon the high bench where she sat perched on her barstool. I started feeling a strange itch that seemed to originate somewhere in the middle of my head. "Are you getting anything?" Valerie asked. "Nothing," I admitted. After a couple more adjustments, I told her, "It's beginning to feel like I'm overhearing a conversation two rooms away." She made another tweak, then paused. My mind started reciting a verse from a song I'd written for Valerie when we were courting: Petticoats and pettipants, And her skirt is number three, Tasseled boots with ankle bracelet, Square dance dress for Valerie! The song was sung to the tune of "Clementine." Square dancing was Valerie's strongest passion next to electronics and it had a lot to do with the way we met and eventually married. I had written the song, made copies of it and handed it to everybody in our square dance club at the Christmas party. We all sang it to her that evening, nearly blowing her mind! I started humming the tune from "Clementine" while waiting for Valerie to do something else or call it a day and let me get back to bed. I love rainy weather. It's the most relaxing sleeping weather you can find. "What are you doing?" Valerie asked. "Oh, I was just thinking about that song I wrote for you several years ago. I didn't even know that I could remember the words." "That's it!" she shouted. "Which verse were you thinking about?" "I think it was the third verse, or the second if you don't count the chorus. The one about the petticoats and pettipants," I admitted. "That's the one I was trying to send to you!" she said. "But it didn't feel like receiving a transmission," I protested, "it just felt like an old memory returning, although the detail was vivid." "Great!" she said. "Now I'm going to try to send you a question and I want you to send me the answer. Remember, don't answer orally, just 'think' it to me." She fiddled again with her controls, then paused and looked in my direction. My brain felt that strange tickle again and I started wondering why a chicken would cross the road. Before I could think of an answer, a bright flash lit up the basement from the little windows up near the ceiling and a loud boom followed instantly. I felt like a spear had gone through my brain. The world seemed to turn inside out. I fell off the barstool. Wait a minute! I wasn't on the barstool, how could I fall off it? The lightning had hit close enough to the house that it knocked our electricity off. There was enough light coming through the high basement windows that we could just make out the room. I noticed a large man in his underwear across the room sitting on a folding chair and shaking his head. He took the helmet off his head. "Well, THAT was an unexpected development!" he said. "This is weird!" He put his hand inside his drawers and said, "I always wondered what this felt like!" "You're taking this awfully calmly," I complained. "Obviously you're me and I'm you. We've swapped bodies!" "Yeah, I guess we really succeeded in communicating brain to brain," he said. "You sent the entire contents of your brain to my body and vice versa. Evidently it is a destructive write. I'll have to work on that little bug." "Great! What do we do in the meantime? I can't go to work in this body," I said, beginning to notice my smaller stature, prominent mammaries and snug jeans that fit MUCH closer into my crotch than should be possible. Ever practical, Valerie said, "First, we call the electric company and get a crew down here to replace our transformer. Once our electricity is back on, I can reset the gizmo and we can simply switch back." We went back upstairs and managed to make and eat a light breakfast by candlelight. After the power line crew fixed our transformer and restored our electricity, Valerie returned to the basement to reset his 'gizmo.' Valerie had wanted to remain in my body long enough for us to explore the differences and experiment sexually before switching back. Somehow, as curious as I was about female bodies and female sexuality, I just couldn't bring myself to consider the notion. I insisted he switch us back as soon as possible. He seemed to be taking a long time about setting up his 'gizmo,' so I walked downstairs to the basement to see what was going on. I was careful to use the handrails while going down the stairs. Valerie's body was still new to me and I didn't trust my balance and coordination yet. Valerie was sitting on his barstool; chin in hand, staring at the tangle of wires and components in front of him. He saw me enter his workshop and said, "Bad news, I'm afraid. The lightning fried half the chips on the main board and it will take hours to replace them. But the worst news is that the multi-phasic non-linear rectifier was blown. If Acme Electronics doesn't have one, they'll have to order it. And we can't even ask them until Monday." Multi-phasic non-linear rectifier? Don't hold me to that. I'm not an electrical engineer. That's just what it sounded like to me. "Well, we better hope they have one," I said, resigned to remaining in this body for the next couple of days. "You had better call my office and tell them 'you' won't be there Monday. I'll call your office and beg off for you. There is no way I could bluff my way through your job and I doubt that you would want to try mine!" Valerie was a fantastic electronics expert, but knew next to nothing about computer programming. And while I could program almost any possible descendent of Charles Babbage's Analytical Engine, I am barely competent with a soldering iron and couldn't read a circuit diagram if my life depended upon it. "You're right," Valerie conceded, "and I doubt that your work buddies would accept you very easily like that." He grinned at me in a way that made me feel self-conscious and very much aware of my vastly altered shape with the prominent breasts and sexy round hips. I never thought Valerie's breasts were all that big, but suddenly inheriting them like this made them feel huge indeed. All things are relative, I guess. Growing up, she at least had time to become accustomed to them. But having them thrust upon me like this required some serious mental adjustments. "I'll go ahead and repair everything I can," Valerie continued. "When we get the rectifier, we can just plug it in and go. If everything works, as it should, we'll be back in our own bodies before bedtime Monday evening. Meanwhile, you might start thinking about tonight." "What about tonight?" I asked. "Need I remind you that we have a dance to go to tonight?" he said. "But I can't go to a dance like this!" I protested. "We'll just have to cancel out tonight." "It's our club dance and we're going," he insisted. "And I expect us to do it right. Nobody must know we've switched bodies, so you're going to have to be me and I'll be you." "I agree that nobody must know we've switched, but why is it so important to go to this dance?" "Like I said, it's our club dance. We're expected to bring the potato casserole and it's our turn to work the kitchen. Don't worry; the casserole is already made. All you have to do is look pretty and let everybody think you're Valerie." "But I can't dance the girl's part," I said. "I'll make so many mistakes they'll think you've gone spastic." "If I can dance the boy's part, you can dance the girl's part," he insisted. Sure I could. We were both single when we learned square dancing. Since there are usually more women than men at a square dance, many of the single women learn to dance the boy's part so they can pair up with another woman and fill out a square. The men have fewer opportunities to dance the girl's part, so very few are practiced at it. I've known some guys who were very good at dancing the girl's part and even saw a square composed entirely of men once. But you'll see a square with more women than men far more often than one with more men than women. I grumped my way back upstairs, knowing I had lost that argument. Since Valerie was occupied repairing his gizmo, I tried to work on a program I'd started. The storm seemed to be over, having spent its fury on that final lightning strike which destroyed our transformer and scrambled our brains. The program was a logic and deduction game based on a chessboard and chess moves, inspired by an article in an old "Fantasy and Science Fiction" magazine. But I just couldn't get my mind in gear. And I kept making typing errors because of the different size of my hands and fingers and the longer fingernails. How does Valerie manage to work on her microelectronics and use tools and soldering irons with such long nails? I'm going to have to remember to ask her about that. There seemed little point in returning to bed since I was wide-awake now. With a couple of hours to kill anyway, I figured I might as well explore my body from this new perspective. As Valerie's husband, I have seen this body many times in all states of dress and undress and from every imaginable angle. Well, almost every imaginable angle. This was definitely a new viewpoint. Valerie's body has always seemed beautiful to me and I often told her she was a fine looking female. She always disputed it, arguing that I only said that because I was married to her. I would point out to her that if I didn't think she was pretty, why would I have married her in the first place? It was an argument neither of us ever expected to win. I also argued that she was beautiful without makeup, but I have never succeeded in getting her out of the house without makeup. At bedtime, after she removed her makeup and brushed her teeth and came to bed, we would often have wonderful sex. Yet I've never been able to convince her that she is still the most beautiful and sexy woman I've ever known, even without makeup. I removed her clothes, wondering as I did so how she ever got those jeans on in the first place. The image in the mirror entered my perceptions without any help or hindrance from testosterone. She is still beautiful, I thought. I turned this way and that, viewing my body from several angles. My hair was long, silky, smooth and light brown. Valerie usually wore it in a ponytail, but right now it was just hanging loose, framing a face that I always thought was extremely attractive. My figure was skinny yet curvy (remember the size three skirt in the song verse?) and the breasts were round, proportionate to my size and beautiful without a hint of sag. My rear was round and full without being fat and again there was no hint of sag. And my legs! I mentioned that one of Valerie's passions was dancing. Ginger Rogers in her prime would have envied Valerie's legs! I've always enjoyed caressing this body. It felt strange and somewhat less stimulating to caress it from the 'inside,' since I could not only feel the breasts with my hands, but I could feel the hands with my breasts. One part of Valerie's body that I liked to fondle the most was between her toes. Her BIG toes, of course! As I caressed this most intimate area of a woman's body, I could begin to feel some excitement building. Even as a male masturbating, there soon came a point of no return. I reached a level of stimulation and excitement that I could not have terminated if somebody held a gun to my head. And then the orgasmic explosion! It felt like every nerve in my body fired simultaneously, over and over. Bliss! As I lay there enjoying the afterglow, I heard Valerie coming up the stairs. He came into the bedroom, saw me lying there naked and instantly knew what I'd been up to. "I thought you were reluctant to explore your new body," he said. "It was impossible to resist," I admitted. "And I gotta tell you, if your orgasms are always as intense and satisfying as what I just experienced, you might not get this body back!" "It's nice, but there are tradeoffs," he said. "Just wait until your first period. Or better yet, see how you feel about a long and difficult pregnancy." "Cripes! You're right. How soon can we switch back?" I asked. "It will have to be Monday evening, assuming Acme has the part we need. Everything else is replaced or repaired and looks good to go." "And speaking of going, we had better start getting ready," he continued. Our breakfast had been late because of the experiment and the storm, so we skipped lunch. Supper would be at the dance. It was indeed time to start getting ready. Normally I would just put on my blue jeans, dancing boots, a long- sleeved western style shirt and a bolo or kerchief style tie. Pin my badge to my shirt, hang my towel on my belt and I'm ready to go. I knew tonight was going to be different. "You know I'm going to need your help, don't you?" I asked Valerie. "Yeah, I figured. Fortunately, it doesn't take this body long to get ready so I can spend my time helping you. First, a shower." Valerie led me into the bathroom and we took a shower. I always enjoyed showering with Valerie, but this time I felt weird because I was showering with a very large man instead of a small and beautiful woman. Still, we managed to get through it with a minimum of hanky-panky. After the shower I realized that I needed to go to the bathroom. I learned how my new plumbing worked and couldn't resist the urge to scold Valerie for leaving the seat up. He gave me a couple of quick pointers on feminine hygiene. Valerie quickly donned my drawers and socks and then stepped into a clean pair of jeans. He selected a blue shirt and a small leather bolo tie with an eagle-shaped slider. He was very nearly finished by the time I was dried off. It wouldn't have taken so long to dry off if Valerie hadn't insisted that I wash my hair and adorn my body with various oils and fragrances. He put his boots on while I started looking through Valerie's clothes to figure what to wear. "The casual season is over, this is a 'formal' dance tonight. Since I'm wearing the blue shirt, you'll wear the blue and white dress. But that goes on last. First panties, then tights," he said, holding up a pair of what looked like heavy pantyhose. I slipped on the panties, looking at them closely to be sure I had them oriented correctly. Of course, they had no fly to help me know front from back, but they weren't hard to figure out. Then Valerie coached me as I struggled into the tights. The things looked like they would be small for a ten-year-old girl, yet I had seen Valerie wear them many times. With his help I managed to get them on and pulled up to my waist. Now the bra! It was a strapless bra, since that is what Valerie preferred when dancing in full square dance regalia. She always managed to hook the bra behind her back, but I just put it on backwards, hooked it and then pulled it around so the cups were in front. Then I pulled it up to my boobs and fitted them into it. It worked, but I noticed Valerie shaking his head. "Risky," he said. "Those strapless bras have a wide band because they must be very snug. The way you do it could cause friction burns. Or if a hook is bent, you could get a serious scratch or cut." Next came the pettipants. This is a very lacy pair of 'underpants' that are worn under the dress and petticoats. Pettipants are unusual as far as undergarments are concerned since they are not to be hidden. When the lady twirls, her dress and petticoats lift up to her waist or higher, exposing all underneath. Without the fancy pettipants, everybody would get a view of her 'real' underwear. This one I really had to look at twice to figure out which was the front and back. I finally decided the label identified the back and I stepped into the pettipants and drew them up to my waist. Shoes. Valerie suggested either the silver or blue shoes. I opted for the blue shoes since we seemed to be going for a blue motif tonight. "Gee, this wasn't so hard," I said. "We're almost done and it hasn't taken fifteen minutes yet." "Dream on, girl," said Valerie. "Sit down and let me do your hair. Hmmm, I normally wear my hair in a ponytail, but since I can work on it from this side I think I'll try a braid." I sat while Valerie combed and braided my hair. I had to agree that it looked very nice when he was done. And it was easy to see why 'she' didn't normally wear 'her' hair like that. It was a lot of work and nearly impossible for the lady to do for herself. I liked it because it kept the hair away from my face. I'm just not used to having long hair and found it distracting and annoying. As much as I expected and dreaded the next item, I still flinched when Valerie announced that it was time to put on the makeup. My weak protests were ignored. Valerie opened his makeup kit, which always looked to me the size of a tackle box and started working on my face. I soon lost track of the ointments, powders and whatever that he rubbed in or brushed onto my face. Finally, he handed me a tube of lipstick and told me I would have to put this on myself. I managed to get the lipstick on without painting too far outside the lines. Valerie wiped off the excess and had me blot my lips on some tissues. When he finished, he turned me around so I could see myself in the mirror. Outstanding! I still don't think this face needs makeup, but it does seem to make a difference. This face was beautiful before, but now it was gorgeous! I noticed Valerie staring wistfully at his makeup kit. He lifted a small compact out of it, opened it and started to daub the puff onto his face. I grabbed his arm and said, "No you don't! You know I never wear makeup on that face. If we're going to be each other tonight, then I'll go along with the clothes, hairdo and makeup on this body, but you must treat that body the way I would." He looked like he wanted to object. I almost expected him to try to argue that makeup would help that face look better, but evidently he saw that I wasn't going to buy it. He sighed and with obvious reluctance closed the compact and returned it to the makeup kit. Valerie selected a small necklace and a set of matching earrings and helped me put them on. Now it was time for the dress. I stepped into it and worked my arms into the short sleeves. The zipper was in the back, naturally, so I let Valerie zip me up. I had a moment of confused mixed feelings, thinking that I was about to go out in public in full drag, while at the same time realizing that I was a properly dressed and very attractive woman. Valerie noticed my expression and guessed my thoughts. "We're going," he said. "Grab your petticoat bag and get our badges. I'll get the casserole. Oh, wait a minute. I almost forgot your purse." Ladies in full square dance costume usually take a small cloth purse with them. This purse is a simple bag with a single zipper and a string handle that is long enough for the lady to wear around her waist if she doesn't want to leave it unattended while she dances. Valerie selected a few items from 'her' regular purse and filled the little bag until it looked like it would burst. I pinned my badge onto my dress and met him at the front door with the other badge and the petticoat bag. I learned long ago that women shouldn't wear these full petticoats when traveling. They are uncomfortable to sit on (the ladies told me so) and they take up too much space in a car. Our square dance club sponsored the dance, so it was local. It was a short drive, but Valerie had to do the driving. I usually did the driving when we went somewhere, but since we were being each other, he had to do it. Another reason was that I had no driver's license in the little purse since we left 'my' wallet at home. We soon arrived and found a parking space at the dancehall. I took the petticoat out of the bag and stepped into it, then tossed the bag back into the car. Valerie helped me get my dress arranged over the petticoat so it was nice and even all the way around. He got the casserole and we walked to the door. This was the test! A square dance is not just a place where music is played and the dancers can keep to their own little cliques or concentrate on their partner to the exclusion of the other people in the hall. A square dance is a party, a social event. Square dancers become friends, very close friends, almost to the point of being considered like family. The reason? Square dancing is a team effort. You don't just dance with your partner, you are in a square with seven other people (your partner and three other couples) and you dance with all of them. If everybody in the square executes the calls correctly, it is a wonder to behold and a joy to participate. So square dancers get to know each other very well. If Valerie and I can fool this bunch, we can fool anybody. And the foolin' starts as soon as we walk in the door. When I started learning to square dance everybody was a stranger to me. Yet they always greeted me like a long lost buddy, the gentlemen shaking my hand and the ladies hugging me. I was never used to such expressive camaraderie and it took me awhile before I stopped checking my back pocket to be sure somebody hadn't lifted my wallet. Finally I came to realize that they really were happy to see me and enjoyed my company. It's a grand feeling. No sooner had we walked into the dance hall than somebody put his arms around my shoulders and hugged me. "Hello, Valerie," he said. I hugged him back. Square dancers call this a "yellowrock". I said, "Hello, George." Before I could get to the sign-in table, I had to yellowrock three other men and two women. I noticed Valerie almost started to yellowrock George too, but caught himself and shook George's hand. Valerie took the casserole to the kitchen while I signed us in. A few more yellowrocks and Valerie met me at some seats I picked out. I put my little purse on a shelf behind the seats to mark my claim on them, then got up and greeted more people arriving at the dance. When I got near the sign-in table again Debbie asked me, "Aren't you going to buy a half-pot tonight, Valerie?" Oh, yeah. Valerie always buys a half-pot ticket. We haven't won the half-pot in two years, but she insists that it helps the club. "Hold that thought, Debbie. I'm going to have to get a dollar from Vic." Another thing that never goes into Valerie's little square dance purse is money. I found Valerie talking to George over by the trophy case, so I held out my hand and said, "Victor, I need a dollar for the half-pot." It amused me to see his expression as I did to him what 'she' always did to me. He fished a dollar out of his wallet (hey, that's still my money!) and handed it over. I took the dollar back to Debbie and bought the half-pot ticket. I checked in the kitchen to see if there was anything I could do to help. Everything was under control. Joyce was heading up the food committee this month and she said I wouldn't be needed until the fourth tip. I was happy about that. Kitchen duties are assigned (in rotation) to couples, however I, as Victor, almost never had to work in the kitchen. The women usually are happier when the men are not under foot. Except for heavy lifting like carrying the ice chest into the dance hall and putting the tables away at the end of the dance, the men usually managed to escape KP. Tonight, however, I have to be Valerie. I returned to our seats where Valerie was still talking to George. Iva was sitting next to George, so I sat next to her and talked with her for a few minutes. It felt very strange sitting with those petticoats on. Besides the weird feel of the stiff fabric against the back of my legs, sitting on the petticoats caused the front of them to lever my dress almost up to my chin. I had to keep my hands in my lap to hold the dress down. Iva noticed my hairdo and said, "That's a very attractive braid, Valerie. Where did you have that done?" She obviously could tell that I would not have been able to braid it myself. The compliment pleased me on some feminine level I wasn't aware that I possessed. I smiled, sat a bit straighter and told her, "Val... er Victor did it for me. He has some amazing talents." Iva glanced over at Valerie who was still talking to George. She shook her head slightly and said, "Who would have thought? You are a very lucky girl, Valerie. Victor is quite a man." Wow. I never knew Iva held me in such high regard. She surely didn't think me "quite a man" just because she thought I could braid hair. I wondered what else I may have done that could have inspired such a nice comment. Promptly at eight o'clock Bob, our caller, announced that it was time for the dance to start. Bob put the march music on and everybody lined up for the Grand March. Our club officers led, our president and his wife first in line. Then came the officers, couple by couple. After them came everybody else, in no particular order, club members and guests. The Grand March is a kind of mixer. Unless you are very careful and deliberate about where you get into the line, you won't know with whom you will be dancing the first tip. It often puts you into a square with people you may never have danced with before, offering opportunities to make new friends. As Bob played the marching music, we filed down the length of the hall two-by-two. Before reaching the stage, the line splits up and the couples alternately go left and right and loop back to the rear of the hall. The first two couples to meet at the rear of the hall link arms and start back to the front of the hall followed by the rest of the crowd, this time four-by-four. Again, these groups split up and return to the back of the hall and link up, forming groups of four couples or eight people. At the front of the hall, the groups form into squares or 'sets'. So far, so good. I managed to get through the Grand March, although I was not used to being the right-hand member of a couple. When we finally formed our set near the front of the hall, Valerie and I turned out to be the number three couple. This meant we were facing the stage. I didn't know whether this would help, but it is my favorite home position. Bob made his usual short speech, welcoming everybody to the dance and reminding us that square dancing is "friendship set to music." He told us that if we weren't looking for fun, then we came to the wrong place! Then he said, "Yellowrock your corner! Take a good look at her, you may never see her again!" I hugged the man standing to my right, who happened to be Roger. He said, "Looking good, Valerie." A rush of conflicting sensations swept over me -- a pleasant response to the compliment, a small thrill from the hug and a tinge of consternation because I was feeling this way. I was trying very hard to pretend to be Valerie, but why was I reacting so much like a female? Maybe Valerie could explain it to me. I knew Roger to be an experienced dancer and expected him to help me as my corner. My nervousness escalated as Bob put on a record and started calling, "Left allemande, forward two to an allemande thar, slip the clutch, pass one, left allemande and right-and-left grand!" Already I nearly blew it and on a simple warm-up figure. On a left allemande, the man turns to his corner who is on his left, but the woman turns to the right. Old habits had me turned half toward my partner before I caught myself and swung around just in time to turn through by the left with Roger. On the allemande thar, the men are in the center of the star linked by their right arms while the ladies walk around the outside of the star holding their partner's left arm. (These arm holds are usually forearm-to-forearm.) So many things seemed backward. It is not like ballroom dancing, where the gentleman leads and the lady dances backward. In square dancing each person may have different moves, even in the same call. For instance, in the right-and-left grand, the gentlemen walk around the set in a counter-clockwise direction, while the ladies walk clockwise. I had to remember to go clockwise. So it felt backwards. The little warm-up figure was not a disaster, but I just knew I was going to blow it somewhere. Even if intellectually I know most or all of the women's moves, my habits are sure to betray me. The 'trick' in square dancing is not to think about the moves required for every call. Sometimes the calls come so fast that you just don't have time to consciously register them in your mind before the next call is made. You have to dance enough to be so practiced at it that you make the moves without thinking about them. It's not as hard as it sounds. As soon as we got home ("home" being the position in the square where you started), Bob continued, "Heads star thru, double pass thru, leads U-turn back, centers in..." Rats! I knew that would happen! On a star thru, the man uses his right hand; the lady uses her left hand. I automatically offered my right hand. This threw me off stride and I missed the pass thru. Valerie glanced at me with raised eyebrow, my opposite man looked surprised. We were too bollixed up to finish that figure, so we returned to our home positions and waited for, "...left allemande and right-and-left grand!" The first song in a tip is usually a patter call. This means there are no song lyrics, just dance calls. It also means that the lady always returns to her original home position with her original partner. I hoped this would give me a little practice at dancing the girl's part before I had to start dancing with the other men in our set. I had a couple more small bobbles before the first song finished, but I actually did better than I expected. One small problem came when Valerie tried to twirl me. The men are never twirled, so I didn't really know how to do it. But he twirled me very gently and slowly the first couple of times and I thought I was getting the hang of it. Another move that offered a little confusion was the courtesy turn. The gentleman often courtesy turns the lady after a chain thru, right-and- left thru, teacup chain and other moves. The lady never courtesy turns a gentleman. But it was hard to do this one wrong, since the gentleman takes the lady's left hand in his left hand, puts his right hand on the lady's back (above the waist!) and guides her through the movement. It felt strange, but I had no problem with it. The second song in a tip is almost always a singing call. This is one where the caller sings the lyrics between the square dance figures. Since most song lyrics are redundant anyway, there is usually a lot of room to insert the square dance calls. It makes for a smoother and faster-paced dance. Another feature of singing calls is known as "corner progression." This means that after each figure you end up with your corner as your partner. This gives you a new corner who will become your partner at the end of the next figure. At the end of the song, if everything goes well, you end up with your original partner at your original home position. The catch is that the men always return to their original home position. The lady returns to the home position of the man who is her current partner. This will be new to me. I did fairly well during the first figure, making a minor slip during a square thru but managing to recover without blowing the square. But the second figure started out, "Sides left square thru two, centers in, cast off one half and roll, square thru three, trade by, left allemande and promenade!" My original home position was number three, which is a head position. But after the first figure I was partnered with my corner man whose home position was a side. I was slow reacting to the call, thinking I was still a head. Fortunately we all knew that a square thru two would put the lady facing her left-hand man, so I just quickly put myself in front of him in time for the "centers in" call. Our caller must have noticed my intense concentration as I tried to get through the tip without making too many mistakes. As the record neared its end and I somehow miraculously reunited with Valerie, Bob's final call was, "...weave the ring, hands in the air and a BIG SMILE on your faces!" I realized what I must have looked like, so I grinned real big as I walked (clockwise!) around the set, to meet Valerie again and promenade back home. That was the end of that tip. Everybody in the square thanked everybody else for the dance and we broke up and returned to our seats. Bob put on a waltz record and a few couples returned to the floor to dance a slow waltz. Several ladies and a couple of gents lined up near the stage and did a line dance to the waltz music. I took the opportunity to sit down and enjoy the break. Square dancing is a vigorous activity. Sometimes the calls come fast and furious and you don't have time to think. You just have to keep moving. It has been estimated that an evening of square dancing, if you dance all eight tips, is equivalent to jogging five miles. It is a dynamic and healthy activity and statistics indicate that square dancers live an average of ten years longer than people who don't square dance. As exercises go, square dancing is one of the best. And it is a lot more fun than, say, jogging or calisthenics. It also exercises your mind. Drinking of alcoholic beverages is forbidden before or during a square dance for the simple reason that you just can't do it if you've been drinking. Even a beer or two will slow down your response time to the point that it will be impossible for you to keep up. It's good clean wholesome fun, which probably explains why folks seldom hear of it and almost never see it on television or in the movies. I managed to get through the second and third tips with only a few mistakes. I'm beginning to think I may really learn how to dance the girl's part. During the fourth tip I went to the kitchen and helped the other ladies carry the food out to the buffet tables. A couple of the men filled Styrofoam cups with water and tea. I noticed the sheriff looking my way so I was careful not to nibble any of the snack foods on the table. When the fourth tip finished, Bob announced that the table was ready and that guests were to go first. The line formed and people started loading their plates. After the guests came the club members. We filled our plates and returned to our seats to eat. Since I've been square dancing, I have learned one happy fact: square dancing ladies are great cooks! I don't know if either activity had anything to do with the other, but we almost always get fantastic dishes at every square dance. Add to that the fact that it usually costs around $3.00 per person to go to a square dance and you have one of the best bargains on the planet. Where else can you take a date to an evening of music, dancing and great food for $6.00 total? Since this was our club's dance, we did not have to pay the admission price, but we had to bring a food dish, which cost almost the same amount. Any way you look at it, it's still a bargain! Shortly after we started eating, the president went to the stage and made some announcements. He welcomed the visitors and thanked the ladies on the food committee. He said the Twilight Twisters square dance club had brought enough visitors to take our banner, so he invited their president to come up and get it. In a week or so our club will visit one of their dances and capture our banner back. After he finished with his announcements, the president handed the microphone to the sheriff. Not every square dance club has a sheriff. Our sheriff keeps us on our toes and every year he sponsors a "Sheriff's Picnic" out at the lake, paid for by the fines he collects. So everybody pays attention when the sheriff starts talking. "Fred Evans, bring me a quarter. You dressed casual and you know the casual season is over. Linda Evans, you bring me a quarter too. You shouldn't have let Fred get away with that!" Fred and Linda walked up to the stage and handed over their quarters. A quarter was the maximum fine that the sheriff could levy, although sometimes he might fine a person for more than one offense. "John Padilla, you were late. Bring me a quarter. Shirley Bryan, Eddie Fulk and Kent Blair, you forgot your badges. Bring me a quarter! And Julie Morgan! I saw you nibbling pretzels at the table before the visitors got a chance at the food. Bring me a quarter!" Just when I thought we might escape being fined this time, the sheriff looked over in our direction and said, "Valerie and Victor Martin! You remembered your badges but I have to fine you anyway. You're wearing each other's badges! Each of you bring me a quarter!" I took a quick glance at my badge and sure enough it had the name Victor Martin engraved on it. Valerie looked at his badge and made the same realization. We got out two quarters and took them to the sheriff. On our walk back to our seats we sheepishly swapped badges and I pinned the one with the name Valerie Martin onto my dress. If the sheriff only knew that we had it right in the first place, but NOW they are backwards! I began to wonder what other mistakes we may have made without realizing it. After the sheriff finished fining everybody he could, he announced that there was twenty-eight dollars in the half-pot and drew the winning ticket. Larry Quin won it, keeping our losing streak unbroken. Finally, Bob announced the next tip ready to start and everybody who was finished eating returned to the floor, forming their sets semi- randomly. The Grand March is used only for the first tip of the evening. While the sets were forming, Tina Marks asked me, "Valerie, may I dance with Victor?" Tina was one of the single ladies in the club. She would dance with any unattached male she could find and I had often danced with her when I was Victor. She was a good dancer, but that was all she was just a dance partner for a tip. She would ask me for a tip when she knew Valerie was busy or absent. Valerie knew this, of course and she knew there was nothing between Tina and me. I never knew that Tina asked Valerie's permission before asking me to dance, so I was impressed with her courtesy. Since I was busy with the food committee this time I told her, "Sure. Have fun!" "Thanks, Valerie!" She raced onto the floor to ask 'Victor' for the tip before the sets filled up. She seemed so excited that I began to wonder if she was feeling more than simple gratitude for the opportunity to dance a tip. I returned to the kitchen to help the ladies clean up. This was not a chore I relished, but it kept me off the dance floor. It didn't take long with several ladies working together. Bob was just starting the singing call when I realized that I had a problem. I needed to go to the bathroom! This is something I've always wondered about, but never discussed with Valerie. Just how do the ladies cope with the petticoats, pettipants, tights and panties when they have to go to the bathroom? I guessed I was about to find out. I went into the ladies' restroom and made a quick survey. They had a table, some hooks on the wall and several stalls. I pulled the petticoat down, stepped out of it and hung it on a hook. The stalls were empty because most of the ladies were on the floor dancing, so I picked one near the wall. Inside, I pulled down the pettipants, tights and panties and sat, being careful to hold my dress up around my waist so it wouldn't hang down into the toilet. From here it was familiar, as I had done it at home during the day. After emptying my bladder, wiping and flushing, I reversed the process, pulling up the panties, then tights, then pettipants. I exited the stall, lifted my petticoat from its hook and stepped into it. Finally got everything arranged as it was originally, washed my hands and returned to the dance hall. My confidence bolstered by getting through the first three tips without disgracing myself too much, I let Valerie drag me into the last three tips. Tip number six was a Plus tip, meaning it uses figures never called in a Mainstream tip. Still, I managed pretty well except for a bit of confusion during a relay the deucy move. Fortunately, relay the deucy is a zero-sum movement, meaning you end up in the same position you started from (although the formation is a mirror image of its original). The confusion didn't cause the square to break down because I remembered my corner and ran to join up with him before the next figure was called. The last tip finally came and ended. I had some amusement as I watched Valerie help the other men fold and stack the tables. I think Valerie was enjoying his size and strength, but when I saw him almost toss one of the tables over the stack I could see that he still didn't realize just how strong he was. We gathered the casserole dish, said our good-byes and goodnights to the rest of the group and headed home. In the car we laughed and congratulated ourselves for our successful 'deception.' I told Valerie about some of my problems and adventures and he told me about his evening. He had made a few minor mistakes in the squares too, but managed to keep moving without breaking down the set as I had. He also remarked about how differently people treated him, especially the ladies. "I have to tell you that I feel so strong in your body," he said. "The ladies seemed so small and light. I was afraid I would hurt somebody if I swung or twirled her too hard. I never realized how much control you must be constantly exercising just to avoid hurting somebody or damaging the furniture!" Obviously he was still thinking about the table-stacking episode. "It's not all that hard," I told him. "No doubt it's what you're accustomed to. And I'm sure it is relative; you never before had that much strength at your command, so you're tempted to exert yourself as much as you always have. In that body the effects are just more extreme." "Maybe so. But from now on I will appreciate your caresses and your loving embraces all the more because I am aware of just how easily you could hurt me. I never feared that you would hurt me, of course, but now I know how careful and gentle you really have been." I shuddered. The very idea of hurting Valerie is a concept my mind just cannot dwell upon. I assured her I would never do anything like that. Then I changed the subject. I mentioned Tina's enthusiasm when I granted my permission for her to dance with 'Victor.' "Surely she dances often enough that a tip with Victor shouldn't be all that exciting?" "Oh, you didn't know? Tina has had a crush on Victor since the day she joined our club. In fact, I think you were the main reason she joined the Swingers instead of another club," Valerie said. "Wow. I never realized," I said. "Don't let it go to your head," Valerie said. "She knows you are my man and she would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship. She contents herself with an occasional tip as your partner. Someday she will find her own man and I hope he is as loving and faithful as I know you are." I was beginning to realize that I was experiencing a rare gift. This evening I was getting glimpses of myself as others saw me. As Robert Burns in "To a Louse" said: Oh wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us! I told Valerie about the compliment that Iva gave Victor without realizing that she was talking to Victor. Valerie responded, "You don't know the half of it. Everybody likes you and considers you a pillar of the community and a valuable member of our club." "I thought they only tolerated me because I keep bringing a beautiful woman to the dances!" I shook my head. If I really am seeing myself as others see me, I like what I'm seeing! "Speaking of beautiful women," Valerie said, "I've been getting some insights into what people think of me too. All evening I've watched people looking your way and admiring your beauty. Several people commented on how good you looked and some of the men were kidding me about our sex life. Once we're back to normal you had better stay healthy and alive because the 'widow' Valerie would be besieged on all sides by suitors." "I don't doubt it," I said. "I've always felt astonished and very lucky that you agreed to marry me when you could have chosen any guy in the world. I love you." "And I love you. That's why I married you," he said. The weirdness of our situation struck me again as I remembered that we were conducting this conversation while sitting in each other's skins. Even worse, I realized that we had been talking about ourselves in the third person. Valerie veered onto another topic. "I may have accidentally created a small problem for you. When I was talking to George earlier in the evening I gave him some advice on installing a new scanner on his computer. He started out by asking me questions about programming, but since I don't know anything about programming I steered the conversation away from that subject. So now George thinks you are a technical wizard." "Yikes," I said. "Now I'm going to have to convince him that scanner installation is the only technical thing I know about computers. I can answer his programming questions but we usually stay away from the more hardware oriented subjects." "Sorry 'bout that," Valerie said. "Don't be sorry. I may have created my own problem. Iva complimented my braid and asked where I had it done. I told her that Victor did it. Now she thinks I can style women's hair." Thinking back on the evening, I still felt like we came through it in good form. Valerie also mentioned that I should have touched up my makeup two or three times during the evening. That's why he had packed the little square dance purse with all the stuff I would need. He realized that I really didn't know how to apply or repair makeup, so he decided not to make an issue of it unless I managed to seriously smudge or smear it somehow. Home, finally and out of those clothes. Valerie told me how to remove the makeup with the cold cream and some wipes. I restored my face to its natural unadorned beauty and brushed my teeth. I returned to the bedroom to find Valerie waiting for me. He was as naked as I and embraced me as soon as I entered the bedroom. I felt a brief impulse to push him away, but instead wrapped my arms around him and hugged him to me. Somehow, this felt right. "I don't understand it," I told Valerie. "Yellowrocking the ladies did nothing for me tonight, but I enjoyed it when the men yellowrocked me. I kept noticing the men around me but barely glanced at the ladies except to see what they were wearing. Since I've only been a woman for a dozen hours, I figured it would take days or weeks before the female hormones would bias my brain so far toward feminine behavior. This body switch is insidious and scary!" Valerie said, "I know what you mean. I felt the same reactions about yellowrocking the ladies and shaking the men's hands. Holding you now, like this, is very exciting to me. But there is a simple explanation." "Okay, I'm listening." We unclenched and got into bed. "Think about it," Valerie continued. "We really haven't swapped bodies. You are Valerie and always have been. Right now, your mind has been stored off-site, so to speak and overwritten by somebody else's mind; Victor's mind, to be precise. So you're Valerie thinking you are Victor in Valerie's body. Those hormones you mentioned have been working their influence on that body and brain for many years. So it's little wonder that you find yourself attracted to men." "Then you're really Victor thinking you are Valerie in Victor's body?" "Exactly. And that is why I like women and one woman in particular. Want to try it?" he asked, as he kissed my breast and fondled me between my toes. My BIG toes, of course! Of course! And we did. It was wonderful. Monday morning Valerie called Acme Electronics and discovered that they did have the rectifier in stock. He bought it, plugged it into his gizmo and ran enough tests and diagnostics to be sure that we could make a safe switch without having to attract a lightning bolt to do it. It felt great to be back inside my own skin! Even though intellectually I knew I never left it, it felt like I had spent the weekend as Valerie. After all, when we did the 'switch,' again overwriting each of our brains with the other's contents, I received all my original memories and personality plus the memories and experiences of the weekend. We now faced a dilemma. Valerie's electronic telepathy was a wonderful invention and could make us a fortune, but the potential for accidental or deliberate mind swapping posed an ethical and moral problem. Could we let the world have this technology? We could picture dictators, criminals and all other kinds of unscrupulous people perpetuating themselves into a kind of immortality by stealing other people's bodies. Would we want to be responsible for that? (Yeah, I know it's not body swapping. But the effect's the same. Resolve the semantics to your own satisfaction.) Valerie and I agreed that this technology must remain unknown. Maybe it had been discovered before and that inventor (or those inventors) had the wisdom to suppress it. We could do no less. But we fudged a bit. Valerie refined her design to the point that she could reproduce her gizmo in a couple of very small chips. She talked her surgeon cousin into implanting them under our skin behind the ear by convincing him it was an experimental cell phone. Now Valerie and I do indeed have a kind of electronic telepathy. It uses cell phone circuitry so we can communicate over long distances. But it includes an added feature that she didn't tell her cousin about. If Valerie and I are in physical contact, we can switch bodies anytime we wish. This makes for some very interesting and lively "fun-times" together, even though we are both usually happy to return to our own bodies. Valerie likes to switch so she can work on her hair. She is getting very good at braiding and arranging different hairstyles. When Valerie is putting the finishing touches on a new square dance dress she likes to swap so 'he' can work on it while I model it. She also likes to switch sometimes so she can move furniture or rearrange some of the heavy equipment in her workshop, although often she will just tell me to do it for her. I enjoy swapping sometimes just for the way her body makes me feel so vigorous and sexy. And the sex is another reason I like to 'borrow' her body every now and then! I think it is safe to say that Valerie and I enjoy a closeness and intimacy that no other couple in the world can know. But there is one little thing that worries me... Valerie tells me she will be happy to have the first baby, but she expects me to have the second one. We're going to have to discuss this idea a little more. I'm not sure whether she is kidding or not! The End *** Author's Comments: The story is over. The following text contains author's ramblings and a short square dance glossary. Unless you are interested in that sort of stuff, you can stop reading now. First, I want to thank Terry L. Sarkel for editing this story. If you enjoyed the story or found it at least readable, credit him. He worked on this story over the Thanksgiving to Christmas holiday season, going far beyond the call of duty. You may blame me for anything you didn't like about this story. Okay, okay, the switch was provoked by a lightning strike. Bet'cha didn't see THAT coming, did you? Ha! Spare me the flames because of that little cliche. Anything else is fair game and I welcome any and all comments, ideas, suggestions, criticisms and even flames. Send them to: [email protected] Square dancing is a cued activity, with the dancers following the caller's instructions to move from one formation to another. Each call represents a defined set of movements, as standardized by The Callerlab Foundation. The calls may be as simple as a 'left allemande,' which means that you do a left arm turn with your corner, to end up facing the opposite direction from your starting position. Or it may be as complicated as a 'relay the deucy' or 'spin chain and exchange the gears,' which would be hard to describe here. Square dancing is an American Folk Dance that evolved from European dances brought to this country hundreds of years ago. In its present form, square dancing is enjoyed all over the world. The calls are the same everywhere, so a left allemande in America is the same as a left allemande in Japan, Germany, Australia, Italy, or anywhere else. As described in the story, square dancing is a vigorous and enjoyable social activity. Basically, a square dance is a party, with music, dancing, socializing, food and professional entertainment. All of this for only a few dollars per person! And make no mistake, the square dance callers are professional entertainers. They are trained and licensed by The Callerlab Foundation. Many, if not most, are excellent singers. (Some of them are great singers, easily the equivalent or better than most recording artists who make the charts.) Their job goes much farther than a casual look would reveal. They select the music, create the program, create or learn new figures and guide the group through the dance from start to finish. They also teach classes in square dancing so new dancers can join the fun. In the square dance community there are some superstars, but these stars are great people who befriend their 'audience' rather than trash hotel rooms. Square dancing itself is fun because the dancers do not know what calls the caller may throw at them. Their job is to work as a team, executing the proper moves in response to the caller's directions. If all eight people in the set perform their moves correctly, it is a beautiful sight to behold. On the other hand, if somebody makes a mistake, the square can break down to the point that the dancers must simply return to their home positions and wait for another call that they can execute from the home position. (Some dancers prefer to form facing lines because there are more calls that can be done from this formation. This gets them back to dancing more quickly.) Fortunately, square dancing is not a contentious sport, so nobody gets angry if you make a mistake. Everybody makes mistakes. Square dancers are a friendly and supportive group of people who are very forgiving of errors. They have to be; nobody has ever learned square dancing without making mistakes and even experienced dancers who have been doing it for many years can make mistakes. Square dancing is indeed "friendship set to music." If you are interested in learning more about square dancing, ask around until you find a square dance club in your area. There are many web pages on the Internet devoted to square dancing and you should be able to find a group near you very easily. There are square dance clubs almost everywhere, so there is very likely one near you. This little essay can't tell you everything you may want to know about square dancing. I hope it explained enough for you to understand the story you just read. Square Dance Glossary Angels: Experienced dancers who assist the caller/teacher at square dance lessons by filling the sets (squares) and helping the new dancers. Badge: A nametag, which identifies the dancer and the dancer's club. Banner: A club's flag. The banner identifies the club. Beau: See Boy. Belle: See Girl. Boy (or Beau): Any person of the male gender, regardless of age. Sometimes, in square dancing, a person's "gender" may depend upon his position in the set. If a girl is dancing the boy's position, then she is a boy for that tip, or until she returns to the girl's position. When there are too few boys to make a balanced set, often a girl will fill out the set by dancing the boy's position. Break: Short rest period between tips when (usually) music is played for dancers who like to waltz, two-step, or line dance. Caller: The "director" of a square dance. The caller selects the program for the evening's dance and calls the figures during the tips. The caller is a professional entertainer and the focal point of any square dance. Corner: The girl to the left of a boy, or the boy to the right of a girl. Your corner is one of the most important people in your set, almost as important as your partner. Corner Progression: A sequence of moves (figures) which partners each girl with her corner until, after having danced with each of the boys in her set, she is reunited with her original partner at the end of the song. Figure: A dance step or sequence of steps which move the set from one formation to another. Formation: A starting and ending arrangement of dancers. There are many formations in square dancing, such as facing lines, box formation, ocean waves, pass-thru, trade-by, diamond, columns, alamo wave, etc. Fun: What square dancing is all about. If you come to a square dance for any reason other than to have fun, you're in the wrong place! Girl (or Belle): Any person of the female gender, regardless of age. No chauvinism is intended and in square dancing, girls are always treated as ladies. Sometimes a boy may dance the girl's positi