It's been two weeks since that encounter. A fortnight. A completely uneventful fortnight that left the memories of that afternoon echoing. Periodically replaying in my mental cinema. An audience of one. My interactions with Christina hadn't really been the same since that day; despite our attempts to pretend nothing had really happened and that her presentation went well and that was that. Every moment since has been uneasy, awkward even. I am sure people noticed too but nothing was made of it.
The sexual tension was undeniable but so was the chemistry between us that made it happen. I couldn't get that feeling out of my mind. Which is why I was both intrigued and surprised by the text message she sent me this morning... "Hey, Trev. You free after work tomorrow night? I know you usually are. If you're interested, meet me at 2/137 Juniper Avenue at 5:30 and buzz. I'll let you in. ;)"
The message piqued my interest and curiosity as she's known to be spontaneous and knows how to throw a good surprise party. It's so out of the blue but I couldn't resist the pull so I replied: "Do I have to bring or wear anything in particular?"
"Just bring yourself and maybe a bottle of wine, there are a few things I've wanted to show you since the other day that you might be interested in. Wear something casual." With that, I was jittering with nervous energy but also quite excited as you could probably call this our first proper "date".
Thursday was fortunately uneventful so I was able to leave work early and make the drive to the mysterious address. I checked the building number to make sure I was at the right place and pressed '2' on the panel. "Hello?" "Hey, um this is Trev." "Oh cool, come on in." *bzzzt* The front door to the complex unlocked.
"Pas De Deux Ballet Studio. Oh, I see what this is about," I chuckled to myself. The studio was showing its age but its owners have definitely taken good care of it as the floorboards were still glossy and the barre placed diagonally in the middle seemed to be in good condition. Doing her stretches on said barre was Christina and as per usual, Christina was a vision bathed in the soft rays of dusk; casting long shadows on the wooden studio flooring.
She wore a semi-sheer long sleeve, exposed-back white leotard and what appeared to be ballet tights but a lot lower denier (closer to the sheerness of wedding pantyhose, maybe 30D tops) and expertly tied pointe shoes. She's definitely done this before. "Welcome, welcome. I'm a little rusty but our little escapade the other day has gotten me to want to take up my lessons again. So I thought I'd refresh what I know by showing you a few basic ballet moves. Hopefully you'll be able to learn something as well."
"I see you brought the merlot I asked for. Great choice as usual, Trev." She gave me a quick peck on the lips as her signature scent aroused the yearning in me. That image of her toned, elegant legs wrapped around the nape of my neck came flashing back and I could feel it growing deep down as I imagined how it'd feel to have those semi-sheer white pantyhose wrapped around me. Play it cool, Trevor.
"Chrissy, you do realise that I have two left foot right? But I am happy to watch you dance."
She did a few chaîne turns and placed the bottle of wine on a piano near the window. "Don't be silly, I expect you to learn the plié and the pas de chat at the very least! But first, come peel me a grape, my dear." She motioned her finger in a come-hither gesture and handed me two wine glasses. I walked over and poured a glass for myself, set it down and handed her a similar glass of Church Road One 2020. "To ballet and to whatever you call us," she winked. I clinked my glass against hers and returned an awkward wink; feeling more relaxed with a bit of liquid courage imbibed.
She took my hand, her touch still sends shivers even though we're so acquainted by this point. We moved to the centre of the room, the wooden floorboards gave a little squeak that echoed my nervousness. "Since you're a beginner, let's start with a plié." She demonstrated the move, her body bending gracefully at the knees as she held onto the the barre and motioned for me to do the same. I attempted to mirror her but I couldn't get my feet to form a line as they're meant to. Chrissy chuckled as her hands guided my hips. "Don't worry if you can't get the full angle on your first try, few people can. That usually comes after hours of practice." She came closer, her hands gently guiding my hips and knees into the correct position. I attempted the move again, this time feeling a little bit more give at my knees and my feet were definitely at a wider angle than the previous attempt. "See, you're a natural. You'll get a hang of this in no time," she said in gentle encouragement.
"Now, let's try the pas de chat or 'step of the cat' in English," Christina suggested. She demonstrated the move, her body leaping through the air with grace as the v-line of her leotard showcased her strong, slender back. Her nyloned feet landing softly on the floor. It looked effortless and as I know with anything to do with ballet, it was anything but. "We'll take it step by step and I'll try to isolate each movement so you can piece it together," she indicated. With that, she guided me through each movement and we gradually increased the speed until I was able to figure out how to do an awkward but passable pas de chat; much to my surprise and delight.
In the dim residual light of dusk, Christina brought me closer and rewarded my efforts with a peck on the lips followed by a more passionate, lingering kiss. "Thanks for entertaining my idea, Trevor. This is a really cute date and it was definitely a good way to refresh the basics," she noted. "Not that you need it Chrissy. Judging by what I've seen and how effortlessly you got off my neck the other day, I'd say you're ready to teach an intermediate class at the very least," I quipped. "Not an expert class?" Christina quipped back. I laughed and reserved my comment.
We looked at each other as she pulled me close. I brushed away a stray strand of hair that came to cover her face, our eyes locking of a moment of shared desire. The tension between us was palpable. I was slightly taken aback as she committed in her usual confident manner...
Ever the expert, she untied the knot holding tight my trackpants faster than I could say "Oh you soft nylon goddess." In one swift motion, she raised her right leg up and drew an arc in midair like a bow and used her popliteal fossa (area behind one's knee) like a nyloned vice on my dragon to seemingly gift me a gentle prelude whilst holding on to the barre with her left hand and her right arm wrapped around the small of my back. In some awe and in lust, I returned the favour by gently squeezing her breast and massaged her nipples with my thumb as best as I could. "That's it, oh babe, that's a good pace." I appreciated the encouragement from her and kept the pace consistent. Her toned leg felt soft, sensual yet powerful and as I looked down to note the contrast between the darkness of my cock and the semi-transparent gossamer white of her nylons as she gave me my first ever legjob, all I could utter in appreciation was, "Ooooh. Ooh fuck that feels so good."
I kissed the nape of Chrissy's neck in adoration and licked the sweat off her skin passionately. The taste of raw femininity and her signature fragrance at work. She took her leg off my cock and I felt the warmth of the air around us on my lower region. With my cock now fully at attention, she proceeded to have me hold on to the barre with my arms behind me whilst she went down for a taste of my precum; swirling her tongue around the head to tease it as she went.
