Dedication
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Dedication free porn video
I'd been going to ballet class twice a week for the last four months, and it was finally beginning look like I might actually quit tripping over my own feet and start moving with a little grace and style. I hadn't counted on being in this class at all, but I needed something to do with my time, and the four women that I called my 'best friends' had all agreed that we'd sign up for the class; get a little exercise, learn a few dance steps, maybe meet a hot guy or two. Fifteen minutes into the first class we all realized that as far as meeting guys, we'd made a mistake; only two men were in the class, one obviously gay and the other walked out when the instructor informed him that he'd not be allowed to wear shorts with no underwear and nothing else as his practice suit.
When the second class rolled around, Marilee didn't show up. We called her later, and she claimed to be suffering from a migraine, but we knew we'd not see her back at the barre again. By the fourth class, Debra had given up, and now, four months later, I was the only one left. I was the oldest woman in the room, by far - most of the students were in elementary school, a few in high school. There was a girl about 20, and then me, nearing 30. Elena, the instructor, thankfully, was also in her 30's, and when I watched her move, gracefully going up on pointe and bringing her long leg up, gripping it gracefully as if it were nothing to have her foot above her like that... I knew that I could at least get my leg up to the high barre on the wall one more time before going home.
"Good work, Jenna, keep going," she said, as she walked past, and I felt her hand against my back, such a light and feathery touch, as she moved me into a stretch. I swallowed hard as her hand slid from my back and down to my waist, gently pushing, and then up and along my arm, positioning me into a graceful curve, and making me shiver. Then her hand touched my hair in a careless gesture, and she said, quietly, "Lovely, Jenna. Very beautiful."
What my friends would never have understood, because I'd never told them, was that the real reason I'd continued to come to this class wasn't because I wanted to lose a few pounds, become more flexible, or suddenly start performing like Anna Pavlova. The reason that I came here, week after week, was because of Elena. And the fact that every time I looked at her, with her sleek strawberry-blonde hair, her pale hazel eyes, her s**ttering of freckles, her strong legs and amazing ass, all I wanted was to touch her, kiss her, get her alone and make love to her until she begged me to stop... and refuse. But my friends were absolutely unaware of my desires, even though they knew that I'd been with women before. They were all either married or in long-term relationships with men, and they simply turned a blind eye to my past, assuming that sooner or later I'd find the "right man" and settle down with him. They didn't realize that the "right man" for me would be one that wouldn't mind that I spent a lot of my free time naked and alone with another woman.
"Alright, everyone. That's it for tonight. Remember, class is canceled next week due to my rehearsal schedule. But we'll be resuming once a week after that, either with me or with Alexander leading you. No worries, I will be here as often as I can!" she said, smiling broadly at the little girl who'd begun to cry at this news. I wasn't about to break into tears myself, but I could sympathize with the tiny girl in her pink tights. Weeks without Elena would be like summer without sunshine.
The group broke up, the teenagers gathering together at one end of the room, the younger girls gathering their things and leaving to go to their mothers and fathers, who were waiting out in the hallway. The college girl grabbed her duffel bag and marched out through the changing room door, while I wandered to the corner where my things were waiting. I wanted so badly to talk to Elena, tell her that I wished her luck with her performance, tell her that I would miss her, tell her... well, simply to say anything to spend just a few more moments with her. That's why I jumped, startled, when I heard her voice call from across the room, "Jenna? Can I speak with you for a moment when you have your things?"
I turned from where I was crouched like a toad on the floor and looked back at her, trying to hide my surprise. "Sure," I answered.
"Great. I've got an office just down the hall, third door on the right. I'll be there when you're changed," she said, and smiled, then left the hall. I watched her go for a moment, then stood, shouldering my backpack and grabbing my towel, wiping away the sweat that I'd barely shed during class but that was now slipping down the side of my face freely. I hung the towel around my shoulders, the edges covering my breasts, the nipples hard as rocks and (I was sure) quite obvious beneath my leotard.
I hurried into the shower room, not wanting to keep Elena waiting any longer than necessary, and stripped quickly, throwing my things into a free locker, then jumping into an open shower stall, washing the sweat off. Soaping my body down, my fingers lingered a little longer than usual between my legs, washing away not only the wetness that had gathered there but stroking my clit a few times and dipping inside me. I wanted nothing more than to stand here for a long while and think of Elena while I let my desire take over, but I knew I couldn't. I rinsed the bubbles away with a small sigh and turned off the water, then dried off and stepped out, dressing in the jeans and t-shirt I'd worn before class.
As I walked down the hall, the building was silent and mostly dark, everyone else having gone home except Alexander, who was still in the practice room as I cut through back to the hallway, standing at the barre doing plie after plie, working on becoming the modern day Baryshnikov, at least in his own head. I couldn't bear to tell him that he had the grace of a lumbering ox.
I reached the third door and tapped on it lightly, seeing a light on inside. The door was partially open already, but I didn't receive an answer to my knocking. "Elena?" I called, as I pushed the door open further, and heard a voice come through an open door.
"Come on in, Jenna, close the door," she called, and I realized that there was water running. Jenna must have her own personal shower just off of this room. It was partially an office, partially a practice area, and a place for some storage. Shelves lined one wall with more pairs of exhausted toe shoes than I'd ever seen in my life, the metal of the toe box showing through the satin on most of them. Each pair was autographed and dated, and I recognized the names of a number of famous ballerinas.
The water turned off, and I glanced up as I heard movement, and then gasped slightly and blushed, turning away, as Elena appeared in the doorway. Or at least peeked around it, showing only the top portion of her body - completely naked. Her hair was wet, slicked back against her head, and her breast was perfect, standing proudly, the cherry-red nipple hard as she smiled at me.
"I'll just be a second, have a seat," she said, then disappeared. "I'm sorry," she yelled from the bathroom. "I keep forgetting you're not with the troupe and aren't used to seeing me naked in the shower like the rest of the girls."
"It's ok," I managed to call back, after clearing the lump from my throat. Not that I wouldn't want to, I thought. Hopefully all of you next time, laying down on my bed with your hair like a cloud around your head, crying out my name while I...
"So, Jenna," she said, coming back into the office wrapped in a long, crimson silk gown and a towel over her hair, interrupting my daydream. "Have you ever thought of dancing professionally?"
"Uh... no, not really," I answered, a little surprised at the question. I watched Jenna as she stepped over to the low cabinet that sat against the back wall, and poured herself a cup of coffee. With a glance over her shoulder and a raised eyebrow, she silently asked if I wanted a cup, too, and I nodded. She smiled, pouring me a cup, and then asked if I wanted cream or sugar.
"Just cream, please," I answered, and she added a bit of powdered creamer and then a stir stick and brought it to me where I sat on the small loveseat that was the only piece of furniture in the room other than her desk and single office chair.
"I think you should consider it," she said, sitting down next to me, folding her leg beneath her, facing me a little. Her arm d****d casually over the back cushion, the robe gaping open just enough that I could see the edge of her breast, the nipple outlined clearly against the silken fabric, her other leg bare and showing where the opening of the robe fell to either side of it. It took every ounce of willpower I had to draw my eyes away from her naked skin and back up to her eyes. She must have noticed, though, because she smiled knowingly when I did meet her eyes. All I could do was blush.
"I really don't think I'm that good a dancer," I stuttered, and she shook her head.
"I disagree. Stand up," she said, taking my coffee and placing it, along with hers, on the desk as she got to her feet. She held out a hand and pulled me up from the loveseat, and waved for me to go over near the barre that was mounted on the wall of her office, in front of a large mirror.
"Slip off your shoes and take the barre, third position, please," she said, in the voice I'd heard so often during class. I stepped out of my slip-on clogs and then I laid my left hand on the barre. My right went above my head as my feet moved into the requested stance. She stood, facing me, in a mirror image of the position I held, and then told me to follow her moves. Her leg circled; mine followed it. Her arm came down as she leaned to one side, and I leaned with her, the moves more difficult in jeans than they'd been in tights and a leotard. Gracefully she went to her tiptoes, not able to go totally en pointe without toe shoes, and I did the same. She then gracefully lifted her left leg behind her, leaning forward toward me. I brought my right leg back and leaned forward toward her, noting that we were mere inches apart as we mirrored one another. I couldn't help myself... I glanced down and noticed that her robe was now gaping wide open, her breasts clearly visible. I lifted my eyes, and met hers.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, still in the strange position, and heard her whisper quietly.
"Don't be."
And before I could think, she leaned forward slightly and her lips touched mine. Instantly, every ounce of desire and passion I'd been holding back came free, and I breathed in quickly through my nose, slowly lowering from the stance to bring my hand up to touch her face as I continued to kiss her deeply, passionately.
Eventually, I broke the kiss, now standing there, my left hand still on the barre, my right on her hair, and she leaned gracefully into it, her eyes closed as she sighed. Then her long lashes fluttered as her hazel eyes met mine.
"I've wanted that since the first time I saw you," she said, with a small smile. "When your friends started dropping out, I was afraid each week that you'd never come back. But there you were, each class, hair the color of autumn leaves and eyes like good chocolate, beautiful body moving like a waterfall. And me stuck at the front of the room, barking at tiny girls in tutus, my only real thought how I wished it was just us, alone, like this. And wondering if you could ever think of me as anything other than your teacher. I was never sure. Until tonight, when you were stretching at the end of class, and shivered as I touched you. And then I knew. And I was never so glad of anything. I want you so much, Jenna..."
I answered her questions, her concerns, by kissing her again, this time taking her in my arms and bringing her closer to me so that I could kiss her properly, my tongue teasing her lips first, teeth nipping lightly at them, and then her tongue meeting mine. My hands roamed over her hair, her shoulders, finding her small waist, so much tinier than mine, hands slipping down to her extremely tight ass. Her leg lifted, wrapping around my back so beautifully it was almost like artwork, and I leaned down slightly and with a tiny grunt, I picked her up, lifting her, her arms sliding around my neck and her lips finding my earlobe as I turned her, placing her ass up on the wooden barre, her back against the mirror.
I slipped the tie of her robe, letting the blood-red silk fall away from her body, and stood admiring her for a moment. Then my lips found hers again, soon moving to her neck, my hand reaching up to remove the towel from her hair, letting it fall. Her petite hands rested on my shoulders as I kissed along her collar bone, down further, finally taking one of her nipples into my mouth, licking it, sucking at it. I felt one of her hands in my hair, and my teeth grazed lightly over the hard nub, making her moan quietly. I ran my tongue along the flesh beneath her breast then, and across her chest, nipping lightly as I went, until I had the other nipple in my mouth, the first between my fingers. I knew that, as a dancer, she would balance herself beautifully as I worked, and I was right.
Using the mirror against her back to keep her upright, she brought one leg up, grabbing the instep of her muscled foot, and lifted it above her head as I moved down to kiss her stomach, the other wrapping behind my head and pulling me closer. I went to one knee, and I was now at the perfect height to do exactly what I'd been waiting for since the very first class.
I leaned in and kissed the skin just above her knee, to the inside of her leg, moving up gradually, my hand slipping down her other leg above my head. Soon, though, I couldn't wait any longer, and knew she couldn't, either... my nose nestled into the sparse strawberry curls around her wet pussy, and my tongue came out, sliding in to taste her juices, savoring her, and then moving up until it touched her clit and I heard her gasp, a gasp that turned to a moaning yes.
My tongue moved in slow circles around her clit, teasing, tempting, listening for her to tell me to go faster, slower, harder, softer. I made direct contact at last, and felt her shiver. I continued licking, first with the flat of my tongue, then the tip, listening for her moans, her sighs, her breathing to change, telling me when I was doing something right. My rhythm changed until I heard her murmur, "ohhh...." and I smiled inwardly, establishing a pattern with that rhythm, bringing a finger up to tease the lips of her pussy, tracing through the wetness, slipping lightly over her ass, rubbing at the tiny bit of skin between her cunt and asshole, feeling her move her hips, and I slipped my finger inside her.
"Oh, God, Jenna, yes," she whispered, "more, please... please." I slipped a second finger in next to the first, and felt her hips thrust down, taking them deeply. Then I added a third, and knew I'd reached the limit, feeling the walls of her pussy contract closely around them as I kept licking and sucking at her clit. Her juices were running freely, her heels now beside her ass, in a position only a dancer or an acrobat could have achieved, as she braced her back on the mirror, freeing her hips to move against my mouth, grinding, her fingers teasing and twisting her nipples.
"Fuck me, Jenna, you beautiful thing, I've wanted you so badly," she said, "wanted you to lick me, to suck me, to.. to... oh, Jenna, holy shit," she said as I sucked her clit between my lips and let my tongue go crazy, holding the suction tightly, drawing it out from its hood, my fingers crooking upward to rub at her g-spot, wanting her to come for me, come hard.
My wish came true in mere moments, a wail of pure ecstacy and lust ringing out as she shuddered, her juices like honey on my hand, my face, dripping onto my t-shirt. I could feel the walls of her cunt contract and pulsate, her clit spasming gently against my tongue as she peaked. I kept licking, sucking, moving my fingers in and out of her, wanting all she had, wanting to make it good for her, never wanting to stop tasting her, touching her, feeling her heat, her wetness. But after a few moments and two more shuddering orgasms that left me drenched both top and bottom, she twined her fingers in my hair and gently pulled my face away from her.
"That was so wonderful," she said, reaching out to me, and I stood, gathering her in my arms. She kissed me, tasting herself on my lips. "I've wanted that for so long, and it was better than I could have dreamt."
"Thank you," I whispered, smiling.
"Let me get dressed, Jenna. Come home with me tonight, let me reciprocate, let me taste you, touch you? Please?" I could only nod as I helped her down from the barre. With a smile and another small kiss, she stepped away from me toward the bathroom, as I lifted the tail of my shirt to wipe my face, thinking that if there was anything I could dedicate my life to... it was this.
Nova
- 15.07.2021
- 15
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