“One time Jenny and I kissed a little bit when we were alone in the dressing room,” she said. “She wanted to try it and, well, so did I.”
“What did you think?” I said.
“It was nice,” she said. “Much softer than kissing a guy.” She giggled softly. “But that was the only time.”
“Do you want to try it with me?” I asked, watching her eyes light up. I felt like I could be pushing the limit with engaging her so early, but I couldn’t help myself. Her sitting there next to me on my couch enraptured me. I was hooked.
“Mish,” she said, nervousness on her face. “I don’t know. Is that weird?”
“Is what weird?” I said.
“Should we do that?” she said. “What would everyone else think?”
“Do you want to try it?” I asked.
“Yeah, kinda,” she said. “I think you’re really pretty.” Her compliment made me smile.
“Well, don’t let other people hold you back,” I said. “It’s just us here.”
Dinah was silent for a moment, nodding slowly as she mulled it over. At this point I couldn’t tell what was happening. Was I manipulating her or was she manipulating me? Or maybe it was neither. Maybe something was growing between us.
“You know,” said Dinah, a contemplative expression painted on her face. “I’m really getting tired of being the only one who touches me.” As she said this I felt my heart race and my body softly shake in excitement. Dinah took hold of her braid and played with it slightly as she continued. “I want to be loved, too.”
Scooting closer to her, I placed my palm on her thigh and leaned my face in. Dinah looked up as I closed in on her and suddenly our lips met, sharing a gentle and soft kiss. I could feel her breath quicken with exhilaration, something forbidden mixed with the desire for attention. Dinah eagerly returned my kiss and she lifted her hand up and tenderly held it against my cheek. Her body faintly trembled as we pressed into one another, our lips moistly intertwining.
After a moment of kissing, Dinah pulled back slowly with a placid smile on her lips. Our eyes locked together, both semi-drunk with a growing romantic lust.
“That was nice,” Dinah said quietly, breaking the silence.
“It was,” I said, taking a deep breath and straightening myself out. I felt positively turned on and thrilled, the thin fabric of my panties growing slightly wet between my legs. I could feel my tight black leggings cling to me.
“Are you a lesbian?” Dinah asked innocently.
“Yes,” I said. I smiled to try to make Dinah feel at ease.
“Sometimes I think of girls when I’m pleasuring myself,” admitted Dinah, her lips curling into a smile mimicking my own.
“How does it make you feel?” I said.
“Sexy,” she said, her cheeks growing slightly rosy. I reached my hand out and slowly stroked her thigh, my fingertips softly touching her inner thigh just the slightest bit.
“Do you want to kiss again?” I said.
“Okay,” said Dinah. We both leaned in and pushed our lips together once more, but more fervently this time, closing our eyes and tilting our heads. I continued to fondle her bare thigh and after a few moments Dinah lifted herself up to her knees and we embraced deeply as our kissing grew more vocal and passionate.
I felt Dinah wrap her arms around my shoulders and I put my hands around her small waist, our chests now pressing together as we leaned into one another there on the couch. Warmth bubbled up inside of me, prickling erotic sensations running through my limbs, as the two of us sweetly kissed. It was lovely and dreamy. Dinah then began slowly leaning back, pulling me with her, until she was laid out on the couch and I was over top of her, our lips still plastered together and wetly knitting.
Dinah’s hands hovered around my shoulders, her palms rubbing against my skin and her fingers gracefully trickling around the straps of my black tank top. I slid one of my hands behind her back and snaked it in under her shirt, rubbing it against her warm flesh. With my other hand I massaged her thigh, sneaking my fingers up her short shorts on occasion, letting it fall between her legs to caress the smoothness of her light skin. Dinah moaned softly into my lips as we kissed, giving me the cue to continue my ardent attention.
“Oh,” she groaned, pulling back from our kiss and dropping her head to the couch behind her. I lowered my face in and started kissing her neck and as I did this she stretched her neck out to allow me further access. Dinah writhed below me, obviously enjoying our passion, her eyes closed and her mouth agape as she succumbed to the softness of the couch cushions.
“Is this okay?” I said gently into her neck, ending my question with a couple of sweet wet kisses. I rubbed my palm back and forth along her thigh as I awaited her answer.
“Mm hmm,” she approved. “Keep touching me.”
My fingers slid up her shorts and petted Dinah in the crevasse of her leg. I could feel the humidity between her legs growing, moistening her soft, smooth skin. Her shorts had a built-in liner that adhered tightly to her lower body, and I traced my finger along the elastic edge of the liner, half on fabric and half on her skin. Up top, I continued to kiss her along her neck and up to her ear, causing her to shrug slightly and giggle.
“Tickles,” she said under her breath, a smile across her lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” I cooed into her neck between kisses.
“Thank you,” Dinah said mellifluously, her face steeped in happiness and her hands dancing over my back.
With two fingers, I pried open the tight elastic of her shorts liner and slipped inside of it. Those same fingers began rubbing over her mound, completely shaven and smooth, catching the very top of her pussy lips with every few caresses. Little squeaks of delight came from her mouth as I did this. Dinah grinded up against me now, her hips gyrating and her shoulders slinking back and forth.
“That feels really nice, Mish,” she murmured.
“You’re hairless down here,” I said softly into her ear and running a single finger along her pussy lips below causing her to judder.
“The girls and I waxed each other yesterday,” she said. “It was my first time doing that.”
“You waxed everything?” I asked.
“Everything,” she said.
“Why don’t you take these shorts off and show me?” I said, kissing her neck one more time. I sat up on my knees and Dinah scooted up slightly on the couch. Reaching down, she took hold of her little athletic shorts and slid them down over her hips, pushing them to her knees. In an effort to help her out, I grabbed the shorts and took them the rest of the way down, allowing Dinah to then kick them off her feet. Lying there on the couch, Dinah was nude from the waist down, only wearing her white tank top now.
“See?” she said, moving her hand down and lightly caressing her shorn pussy. Dinah rubbed her palm back and forth against herself as she looked at me and grinned.
“I do see,” I said, moving down a bit and sitting over her legs with my knees on the couch cushion below. Reaching down, I ran my fingers over her mound, letting my palm bump against her moistening lips and gliding it upward. Dinah moaned as I touched her, wrapping her arms around herself and enveloping herself in a tight hug.
Taking a single finger, I traced up the wetness of her slit, prying her lips apart just so, trailing my finger through the gooiness of her pussy.
“Oh Mish,” she moaned reflexively, tossing her head side to side.
Leaning my head down, I began to softly kiss her pretty pussy, the juicy wetness of it sticking to my lips each time I pulled my mouth back. Then I released my tongue, flicking it against her clit and then giving the length of her pussy slit one long, slow lick.
Dinah sat up from the couch slightly, crossed her arms and easily pulled her tank top up over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her single thick braid fluttered as she did this, landing down over her chest as she laid back into the couch pillow behind her. Dinah grinded her ass into the couch and spread her legs open wider to inv
ite me in.
“There,” she said, smiling up at me. “I’m totally naked now.”
I was amazed and hypnotized as I looked her up and down. I remembered what she looked like naked from our times changing together at the theatre, but back then I could only catch a secret glance. Here was Dinah presented for me completely, splayed out and willing, her tight little body totally bare below me.
“You’re gorgeous,” I said, tenderly palming her pussy, its wetness and humidity sticking to my hand. “I think I’m in love.”
“Don’t hurt me,” said Dinah with a soft giggle, her face exuding a mixture of excitement and embarrassment.
“Promise,” I said with a devious grin. I began to rub her womanhood with a revived zeal, squeezing her lips between my fingers, and pushing weightily against her pussy with my palm. Dinah gave a low moan as I did this until she reached her hand down and stopped me.
“You’re not naked,” she said with a hazy, pleasured look on her face.
“Should I be?” I teased.
She nodded at me enthusiastically.
I stood up from the couch and for a moment I stared down at her tight ballet body. I couldn’t help myself. Dinah lovingly returned my gaze, her lips curling up as she watched me watch her.
Lowering my hands, I took my tank top between my fingers and lifted it up above my head, revealing my naked torso. Dinah made a kissy face to me and pointed up to my chest.
“Small like me,” she said, to which I laughed. She ran a hand over one of her tiny breasts.
“Dancers,” I said.
I then pushed my leggings down off my hips, letting them fall to the floor and stepping out of them, hovering over Dinah now in just my baby blue pair of panties. Feeling a bit goofy, perhaps intoxicated with lust for this little creature, I went into a fourth position pose and she giggled.
Next I let my panties fall and removed them from my feet. I looked down at myself, admiring that I was still able to stay in shape despite having moved away from full-time dancing. Running my hands through my short pubic hair, I wished for a moment that I had thought to shave it all as Dinah had done.
“Come back now,” Dinah said, motioning with her hand. I followed her request and once again mounted on her on the couch. Lowering in, we shared a couple more sweet kisses, our faces soft against one another’s.
Our warm flesh mingled, bodies hot as we grinded together and made out. Excitement overcame me and I could feel my moist pussy, clammy between my legs. As though Dinah were following my thoughts, her hand slithered between my legs and fondled me — she was cautious at first, but as she gained her confidence her fingers increased in speed and pressure.
“Mmm,” I sighed against her lips, my hands exploring her sides, her stomach, her chest. Dinah let one hand rest on my hips as her other diddled me down below.
“I know how you’ve been looking at me,” she said as we kissed.
“How’s that?” I said.
“Like you wanted to be with me,” she said.
“Did you know we’d end up naked together when you came over here?” I asked, kissing her and touching her, becoming unsure about who was in charge.
“Mm hmm,” she affirmed, pinching my pussy lips lightly between her fingers and giving a little tug. My head was reeling by this point, wetness creaming out of me and sliming her fingers with a thin film.
“So you planned this?” I questioned, feeling the tables turning but so enthralled by the experience that I was unable to dwell on it.
“Touch me,” she said, pulling back from our kiss and burying her face into my neck, kissing it and casually biting.
I took her direction and moved my hand back to her mound, returning to my sensual massaging. We rubbed at each other, each growing more turned on with the passing moment, evidenced in the increased vigor with which we touched each other.
Feeling her small hole dilate with her breath, I pushed two fingers between her lips, rubbing her pinkness up and down from her hole to her clit. After a couple more spirited touches, I slid my fingers inside of her. The penetration made her body quiver.
“Yes,” she softly cooed against my neck, her voice low and almost inaudible. I began to thrust my fingers back and forth into her, using my thumb to admiringly fondle her clit. In turn, Dinah squeezed once more at my lips and absentmindedly rubbed my hip in a small circle.
The two of us continued to rub up against one another, each with a handle on the other’s pussy. My fingers easily coursed in and out of her, assisted by the growing wetness created from her arousal. Dinah squeaked little moans up against my flesh with each push, her breath becoming syncopated with my ardent thrusts.
I could feel sweat accumulating on my brow and at the small of my back, mounted and moving up against this petite beauty, and I kissed her forehead sweetly, letting my lips linger and my mouth breathe warmth onto her skin.
Dinah subtly moved her hand from my hip and down to her mound, using her own fingers to manipulate her clit as I pushed my fingers inside of her. Her hand that had been fondling me pulled back and rested on her stomach, her eyes closed, her motions steady. I could tell she was feeling wonderful and focusing on herself. I wanted nothing more than to help lead her to orgasm.
Her hips started lifting up off of the couch in rhythm with my penetrations and her breathing became choppy and short. She still squeaked as she breathed, though her noises were getting higher in timbre and she held her head firmer against me. I looked down at our joint effort and her hand was circling even faster on her clit, masturbating herself toward the precipice as my fingers flew back and forth with mounting sounds of wet flesh slapping.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned, her chest heaving, small breasts that barely stuck out at all moving up and down with her panting.
Then Dinah quivered, her thighs shaking, her hips bucking up. Her squeaking moans and hot breaths turning into joyous weeping. I could feel her pussy clench against my fingers, then release, then clench once more. She ceased her own fondling, simply holding onto her clit now between her fingers, as her body shuddered.
After a few more moments of this shaking and shivering, Dinah’s ass fell back to the couch cushion and she began to dissolve into it. Her hand grabbed mine, fingers still inserted, and steadied it, intimating that she was coming down. I slowly removed my fingers and eased up from our lying position, my knees positioned to either side of her body there on the couch.
Dinah placed a hand on her chest, her eyes closed, her breaths becoming deep and purposeful.
I brought my fingers up and looked at them, wet and creamy with Dinah’s lubricant. I pressed my fingers together and then pulled them apart, seeing a thin gooiness between them. Curious, I ran my tongue over my fingers and tasted Dinah’s pussy. It was sweet, light, floral. My heart melted.
“Oh my,” Dinah sighed submissively. Her eyes opened and she looked up at me and gave a drunken smile. “Thank you,” she said, using her hand to gently massage my thigh.
“You’re welcome,” I said, my heart thumping hard, my pussy still aching for her. I lowered my fingers, still coated in her juices, and rubbed them into my own womanhood a couple of times to assay its sensitivity.
“Can I stay over tonight?” Dinah queried, her expression relaxed and content.
“Of course,” I said, smiling adoringly down at her.
*
A couple of days later the theatre was abuzz with the heartbreaking news that one of our soloists, Maura, had broken her foot. Maura was devastated and our production team was pulling out their collective hair. While the girls in the corps de ballet were all weeping for their fallen comrade, having been a dancer I knew what they were all feeling on the inside: opportunity.
I was sitting in my office, pouring over some notes, and trying to get a plan in order, when Charles busted in. He never knocked. As Artistic Director, he felt that the theatre was his and he had license to go wherever he pleased, unannounced, and no matter where you might be in the entire build
ing you knew that, at any moment, Charles could be standing in front of you, behind you, or quite possibly even infiltrating your mind.
“Mish, my dear,” he belted out as he crashed into my office, quickly righting a chair in front of my desk, and histrionically falling down into it. “I assume you know why I’m here.”
“Of course, sir,” I said. “I’m figuring out right now what our next move should be.”
“Poor Maura,” Charles lamented. “Such promise, such grace. The young woman is positively wretched over this. She’s tied herself into a knot, vomiting out cries of hysteria.”
“Vomiting, sir?” I said.
“You know what I mean,” he countered. “I feel for her, of course, but the show must go on,” he said, thrusting a dramatic finger up into the air.
“Agreed,” I said. “Who do you have in mind to replace her?”
“I’m going back and forth between a few of the junior dancers in the corps de ballet,” he said. “I’m unsure if any of them are quite ready to take up such an important role, but I’m leaning toward Dinah.”
“Dinah?” I said with surprise. My mind drifted back to the evening Dinah and I shared and my heart fluttered. Since Dinah had slept over, our interactions at the theatre had been overly professional when others were around, and rather touchy-feely when we felt we were alone.
“You don’t think she’s the one?” Charles inquired, taking the glasses off of his face and letting them dangle on his chest by the thin stretch of string around his neck. “Who were you considering, if I may ask?”
“No,” I said, correcting his assumption. “I didn’t say that. I think Dinah could be an excellent choice to promote to soloist in this production.”
“We’ll have to work her much harder to prepare her in time for the opening,” Charles said. “Do we think she can handle the extra load?”
“I believe so, sir,” I said, beginning to feel giddy inside. To think that Dinah, my new little lover, could take over as a soloist in this grand of a production and I would get to break the news to her. Perhaps it was what she was after all along by sleeping with me, by seducing me. But I didn’t care. I was elated.
The Ballerina: A Lesbian Romance Page 2