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.
