Ballet Couplings

Story Info
A couple learning about each other and BDSM.
4.5k words
4.06
24.2k
3

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 11/06/2009
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

June 2000

She moved so gracefully. Well, to be fair, they all did. When you are a dancing with the New York City Ballet, if you weren't one of the best, you weren't there. But there was something about this petite blonde haired beauty that struck Sam's fancy. Her breasts were perky and round and looked firm beneath her tight leotard. Her smile made her eyes sparkle, although right now she wasn't smiling. They were in the middle of rehearsal and Brenda had just been reprimanded for not doing the one step perfectly. Although it was a one time mistake, their director was often impossible to please and showed his displeasure. He practically humiliated Brenda in the middle of the number, making the entire orchestra and group stop.

Little did he know, by putting her on the spot like that, it made her heart race, like it did for anyone else. But it also made her catch her breath and send a comfortable little tingle down her spine and into her pussy. Although she wasn't quite aware of what it was that had started her going, she recognized the signs that she was getting turned on. Not because of the humiliation, but because of that thought, she blushed, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink that was very becoming.

No one in the company or the orchestra particularly noticed, as there was always someone being berated by the director. Except Sam, of course, who noticed everything that had to do with Brenda. The rehearsal resumed.

When the rehearsal was over, Sam caught up with Brenda back stage. "That sucks that the director is such an ass," he said. He wasn't sure how Brenda would react to his language, but he wasn't one to worry about it. He wasn't interested in a woman trying to change him.

"Yes," she agreed. She was sitting on a chair, unlacing her ballet shoes. She glanced up. It was Sam, one of the male dancers. She had a nice view of his long, muscular legs, all wrapped up tightly in his tights. Brenda briefly admired his legs before looking up at his face. He was particularly attractive, and she was a little surprised that he was talking to her. Through the years, she had been very focused on achieving her dream of dancing for the New York City Ballet. Until that time, she had been far too busy to have any boyfriends and no one paid much attention to her in high school as she had been very focused on her studies. So needless to say, the male attention was abnormal for her.

"Can I take you out for an early dinner?" They were being released after a grueling rehearsal to go eat before their 8pm show.

"I don't know. I don't usually eat before the show," Brenda replied. She was being truthful, but she was also unsure of how she felt about how forward Sam was being. Of course, anyone else would have thought that he was being the perfect gentleman, but with her lack of experience, anything was forward.

"Well, then how about some coffee?" She hesitated. "Or tea?"

She still paused, but then replied, "I suppose tea wouldn't hurt."

"Great. Let me get changed and I'll meet you at the stage door." Sam didn't wait for a reply but walked off to the men's dressing room to change his clothes. It didn't take long for him to change and be waiting by the door. Brenda, however, was taking her time.

Brenda went into the dressing room and slowly stripped off her leotard. Although she would have to put it on again in a short while for the show, she couldn't bear the thought of wearing it all evening. She folded it neatly and placed it in her locker with the shoes she had taken off a few minutes earlier. Standing there in her thong underwear and bra, she got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her body was tight and trim. Her muscles well defined from frequent use. Dancing was a grueling career that worked her body very hard. She loved it, and she loved the figure she had for it, but it was sometimes exhausting. She stripped off her bra, which was a tight sports model. She wouldn't wear it for an actual performance but it helped her during practice. Her B cup breasts sometimes bounced a little more than she would like during performances. But the bra lines were unflattering. She breathed a sigh of relief at having the bra off and watched as her breasts bounced lightly, now free. The thong allowed her to not be completely naked underneath her leotard, and it kind of made her feel sexy, even though it really was the only practical underwear you could wear!

Realizing that Sam was probably waiting for her, she quickly put on her pants and shirt, leaving herself braless. She shrugged mentally at the thought. It didn't really matter if she were wearing a bra or not. At 25 years old, she was still perky enough to pull it off without anyone really noticing.

She grabbed her purse off the hook in her locker and closed it. It locked automatically, but she spun the dial anyway, to ensure that it was locked. Being the summer, she didn't need a jacket or anything so off she went. Sam was waiting by the door.

He had nearly jumped every time the door opened and a dancer walked out. The blonde ones really got his blood pressure going but none of them had been Brenda. He was starting to wonder if she had decided to stand him up and went out the other door or something when she finally emerged. She was stunning. He looked her up and down, being careful not to ogle her too much, although he particularly wanted to when he realized she must not be wearing a bra. The afternoon sun beat down and kept her warm but he wondered how hard her nipples would be if it were chilly today.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked.

"I don't care," she replied with a shrug. She wasn't one to make a lot of decisions.

He took her to a small, out of the way café where they were able to talk and have a nice conversation. Although he was horny as hell and his cock was half hard throughout the meal, he made polite conversation and did not let on that he wanted nothing more than to take her behind the stage and fuck her brains out. Every time she moved, her breasts swayed slightly making it impossible for Sam to not think about sex. Although, to be fair, Brenda wasn't far off. Although she was still a virgin, having had such few opportunities for sex, she was a masturbation pro and the thong was making her horny. She wondered what Sam would say if she told him that but she knew that she could never be so forward.

They ate up all the time they had drinking tea and coffee and finally they knew they had to get back. Sam was uncomfortable because he was starving. The coffee shop had great drinks but he knew that their baked goods would be stale and unappetizing. He hadn't thought that Brenda would want to spend the whole time with him so he hadn't worried about getting something to eat. But when they realized it was now after 6pm, he was somewhat stuck. So before they left, he ordered a croissant to eat on the way back to the theater.

Brenda was secretly glad that he had his hands full with the croissant when they left the café. Although it had been a spur of the moment outing, it had felt very much like a date, particularly when Sam insisted on paying. Not that Brenda minded the nice treatment, but she wasn't sure what she would do with her hands if Sam's had been free. Of course, it would be a ten minute walk back to the theater and Sam finished his croissant long before they got back. He hesitated just a moment and then confidently grabbed Brenda's left hand. Her hand was tiny in his, which made sense, he thought, as he looked down at her. He was a good foot taller than she was.

Brenda was surprised at how comfortable she felt holding Sam's hand all the way back to the theater. When the arrived, at the stage door, she went to pull her hand away, not sure what their fellow dancers would think, but Sam wouldn't let her hand go. Finally they arrived at the dressing room doors where they would have to part ways. Sam pulled her to the side of the door and gently leaned her up against it. Her back was pressed against the wood paneling of the wall and Sam gently spread her legs with his knee. He leaned down and kissed her passionately, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth and exploring the soft tissue there. She felt her blood boil with desire. She wasn't sure what signal she had given him that it was okay to do this to her, particularly there in front of the dressing room doors where anyone could see them. But something about the situation really got her hot.

When Sam broke the kiss, he left Brenda panting. Then he turned and without a backward glance, walked into the men's dressing room. Brenda stood there, stunned. Sam hadn't said a word to her. He didn't tell her that he wanted to see her again, although the kiss kind of indicated that he did. He didn't thank her for a nice date. She didn't even get to thank him!

Finally catching her breath a minute or two later, she went into the dressing room and put on her costume for the ballet. She felt like the show took longer than usual. Every time she saw Sam on stage, he pointedly avoided her gaze, concentrating on the show. Fine, she thought, she would do the same. She focused on her performance and even though she had been shaken to the core by that kiss, she managed to perform well. It wasn't her best performance but it was passable. The director wouldn't yell at her at least.

Relief washed over her as they did their final curtain call. By the end of the show, she had gotten herself pretty worked up that Sam was ignoring her. He couldn't even give her a smile? She couldn't understand it. Now her blood was really boiling and it had nothing to do with sexual tension. In fact, she meant to yell at Sam at the first chance she got.

Meanwhile, Sam was anxious for the end of the show also. His blood was also boiling, but his was with sexual tension. He had purposely been aloof with Brenda because he knew it would get her all riled up. But he also was pretty sure that the kiss he had left her with had her hooked. Although he was fairly confident, he was ready for the show to be over. Plus, what he really had in mind had him on edge.

When the show ended, Sam went to the dressing room as fast as he could and changed his clothes. He was pretty sure that Brenda would wait for him if he wasn't out first, but he wasn't totally sure. So just in case, he stripped down, hung his clothes in his locker, and put his street clothes back on in record in time. He was wearing jeans and a polo-shirt. He was usually a fairly nice dresser. The jeans didn't have any tears in them and they were faded, even though that was the style.

He walked out of the dressing room and down the hall to a small alcove before the stage door. He knew that Brenda usually used that door. He was visible, but not highly so and he had brought a book so that it wouldn't look totally awkward with him standing there. He leaned against the wall and opened the book at random. It was Catcher In The Rye which he had read a gazillion times before. It was the copy he always kept in his dressing room in case he had some down time. He would pick it up and flip to a random page whenever he wanted and read a few pages. That's what he did now. Even though it was his favorite book, which was evidenced by the worn creases in the binding, he couldn't concentrate on it. Every time he heard footsteps coming down the hall he would look up anxiously.

Finally she came around the corner. "Hey," he called. She turned her head and glared at him.

"What do you think you—" He cut her off by grabbing her wrists and pushing them up against the wall in the alcove, effectively pinning her again. Before she could continue her thought, she found herself being kissed quite as passionately as the first time.

She melted against him, her body relaxing, her breathing becoming heavy. Sam pushed a leg between her thighs again and brought his knee up to press against her pussy. He could feel the heat radiating from her and it made his cock begin to get hard. He let go of her left hand and she brought it up and hooked it around his neck. She wound her fingers through his hair at the base of his neck. His hair wasn't long, but it was long enough to get her fingers into it. Since she had responded so positively to being let go, Sam let go of her other hand. She did the same with that until both of her hands were entwined in his hair.

He put his hands on her waist and as she got more and more into the kiss, he started to move his right hand up to cup her breast. He decided not to go under her shirt since it was only the second kiss they had shared, but it was still very personal. He cupped her right breast and found that she was still not wearing a bra and her nipples were rapidly becoming hard under his touch. He gently rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb and she arched her back against him.

Finally, when he had her panting and pushing her breasts against him, he broke the kiss. "Come on. I am taking you home." He did not give her a choice. It was a simple and direct statement and she followed blindly.

He took her back to his apartment in the heart of the city. They didn't speak as he hailed a cab, gave the address, and pulled up in front of his apartment. They still didn't speak as Sam paid the driver, got out, and held the door open for Brenda. Even as they went inside the building, with Sam holding the door, and up two flights of stairs to his apartment, they still said nothing.

The entire time, Brenda's mind was reeling. She felt like a cat in heat, completely overcome by desire. At the same time, she was scared to death. Although she and Sam had worked at the ballet together for quite a while now, she didn't really know him. She couldn't believe that she had followed him to his apartment like this or that she was willing to lose her virginity to him. Which, at this point, she fully realized that if he ripped off her clothes and fucked her right then and there, she wasn't going to protest. As much as her mind may want her to protest, her body would not respond. As much as she willed herself to speak up at some point and say that she had to go home, she never did find her voice. And when Sam closed and latched the door behind her, she knew that she wasn't ever going to protest.

Sam knew as soon as she followed him to the street to get a taxi that she was his. She was following so blindly, it was like a dream. Or rather, it was like Sam's fantasy. A beautiful woman at his fingertips, blindly doing whatever he said. What could possibly be better? In all of his 30 years of life, he had never had such a fantasy and doubted that he would ever have a chance to have that fantasy fulfilled again. There was no way in hell he was going to give up the chance!

After he latched the door with the key, he pulled it out. Normally, he would leave the key in the door being that you could only open the door with the key. But he thought that it particularly drove home the idea that he was in charge. He placed the key in his pocket and turned to face Brenda. She was standing in the middle of the living room (which is where the door led immediately to), with her arms at her sides. She had no idea what to do with herself, so she just stood and waited.

"Welcome," Sam said, and smiled. He wanted her to comfortable. Part of getting her to bend to his will was to make her feel comfortable. Making her feel completely out of control right away would just put her on edge and make her be guarded. That was not at all his intent. It would be no fun for him if she didn't enjoy herself also. He just had always had the feeling, and today had proven his feeling to be true, that Brenda wanted to be controlled.

She returned his smile. "Thank you."

"Let me give you a tour of the place." It wasn't big but he intended for his tour to end in the bedroom, making it nice and easy to get her into bed.

"That would be nice." He walked closer and put his arm around her shoulder. It was comforting and she let herself be guided around the room that way.

"This is the living room. Over here is the kitchen." The kitchen was practically attached to the living room. There was one small counter that divided the two. The counter served as the only dining space he had. "Here is the bathroom." It had a bath tub, which was fairly rare in the city and Brenda remarked on that. "And last but not least, the bedroom."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly go in your bedroom! That's so personal."

"Nonsense!" Sam declared. "I want you to see it." Brenda didn't reply but allowed herself to be led into the room. "Why don't you sit here on the bed?" Although the words formed a question, his tone made it clear that it was a command. She sat down on the edge of the bed. Sam knelt down beside her and took her shoes off. He took his time untying the laces of her sneakers and then stripping the socks off after them. Her feet were small and petite. After the grueling rehearsal and then the performance that night, they weren't particularly clean, but Sam didn't mind. He began to rub them, working his thumbs into the sensitive areas of her feet. He could hear her start to groan in spite of herself. Her feet must have been hurting her. No matter how much you danced, you couldn't dance that much without a little pain.

She was starting to really relax then and lay back on the bed while he sat on the floor and worked on her feet. Then he moved his hands up and began to work on her legs. Her beautifully shaped calves were muscular under her pants. He worked over her pants and massaged up to her thighs. She truly was stunning. When he got to the junction between her thighs, he stopped. "Why don't we get that shirt off of you and I'll give you a nice back massage with some oil?" he suggested. The massage had felt so good and she was so upset to have it stop that she was ready to agree to anything for it to continue.

Sam helped her out of her shirt, which of course was all she had on from the waist up. He tossed it on the floor and instructed her to lie down on her stomach. She moved up the bed to rest her head on one of his pillows. He got out the oil and, as promised, gave her the massage of a lifetime. She was completely and totally relaxed when he started to push her pants down. Thankfully, the pants had an elastic waist and didn't resist being pulled down. He pulled them all the way to her ankles, leaving her wearing only the thong. He began rubbing down her smooth legs, as he had when she had been wearing pants. But of course the act was much more intimate now that she was nearly naked.

When he had worked down to her feet he began working his way back up. This time he massaged her bare ass that he had before neglected. When she didn't protest, he made a point to move more to her sides and the sides of her breasts when he got back up to her back. She still did not protest and even moaned softly when he rubbed a tender spot. She was clearly relaxed and at peace while Sam was getting more and more worked up. When he had touched every inch of her he could reach without flipping her over, he put both hands on one side and gently pulled, indicating to her that he wanted her to flip over. Sure enough she did. Now she was lying face up but with her eyes closed. Sam massaged her stomach and then moved up to her breasts. Her breasts were smooth and round and firm. Her nipples were small and got hard as he touched them. He lightly pinched her nipples, rolling the nub between his finger and thumb as he had done earlier, but now her breasts were bare. She moaned softly and arched her back. She was feeling completely vulnerable but nothing compared to the way she was going to feel in a moment.

One of Sam's hands traveled down her stomach and began to probe at her hot pussy. He slipped a finger inside her by pushing the thin thong fabric to the side. She was hot and wet and ready for him, but tight has hell. Could she possibly be a virgin? That had been the rumor, and that often happened with the women in the ballet, but he hadn't considered it. She was 25 for goodness sake!

12