Dancing with Desire

The first thing I do when I get to work is take off all of my clothes in front of my colleagues. It might sound a little untraditional but that's life as a professional ballet dancer. And what a life it is. I stand in the corner of the dressing room, my jaw slack at the gorgeous creatures milling around in varying states of undress, as if it was normal to just stand around naked with your colleagues at 9AM- and I suppose at this job it is. Even though I am shy and tend to stay with my back to the wall, I still have managed to learn each dancer's anatomy so well.

There's Rosa who comes from Spain, with dark nipples against caramel skin, her long black hair always smelling of apples. Despite being currently topless, she is chatting casually to Amanda- a Georgia peach- whose short blond curly hair and big blue eyes make her look like the definition of America's sweetheart- though rumors have it that she is anything but. Her cross necklace is just a souvenir of a past that she is happy to never return to. Amanda is content to be completely naked all the time, just like she is right now, while she sews pointe shoes before the day's rehearsals. Her blond bush looks like it's never been shaven and so her hair is ample, soft and fluffy. Amanda's long limbs are something of a wonder even in this job where everyone has insane bodies.

The two women are best friends and sometimes I wonder if they aren't something a little bit more, too. It's the way they casually brush one another's hair behind the other's ear, the way Amanda lays her head on Rosa's lap when they are on a break, the way that some days Rosa's panties look suspiciously similar to the ones Amanda had on the day before.

But now a creature walks into the dressing room door that takes all the air out of the room, a star bright enough to take the attention away from even these two majestic beauties. Daniella Neveu has a way of making people's heads turn without effort. Guys, girls, it doesn't matter. The world eats out of her hands. She is the star of the ballet company, and has been for quite some time. I remember coming to watch her perform years ago, when I was still a little girl. It was the first time I saw ballet on a stage and Daniella's strong, powerful, sensual movements made me want to be exactly like her. And now here I am. And here she is. Getting naked in front of me.

Every movement is like a choreographed little strip tease. And I have a front row seat. She takes off her scarf and drapes it across a chair. The jacket is off, the silk shirt, and her leather pants that hug her surprisingly curvy ass. Now all that is left is a lacy black bra. I try not to gulp as she unclasps it and reveals two beautiful breasts. Daniella is the perfect example that size doesn't always matter- her breasts small but perfectly formed, with soft rose petal pink nipples.

She turns around and I'm afraid she caught me staring. I hurry out of the dressing room but I notice that Daniella seems to have a slight smile on her lips as I rush past.

I am the newbie of the company so my job is mostly to stand back and watch during rehearsal. Which I don't mind at all. Seeing these beautiful bodies bend themselves into shapes, float gracefully across the floor, defy gravity- it's a privilege. There is something so sexy about talent. My first day at the company I had to go home and touch myself because I was so turned-on by the level of skill these women possess. In my secret fantasies Daniella is the one touching me. It's her petite yet muscular form, the explosive power in her body- I try to tell myself I am dizzy from watching her do so many pirouette turns but I know the truth. I'm a little bit in love with her. It'd be hard not to be. That's why I'm so startled when she suddenly comes to the back of the studio where I am standing and trying to be invisible and says with an alluring authority, "New girl, go get me my leg warmers out of my locker."

I immediately do as she bids. But I can't immediately find the legwarmers. Rifling around her surprisingly messy locker, my hand lands upon something curiously spongy. I pull out a small purple vibrator. I know everyone else is in rehearsal but I still quickly glance around the dressing room before I press the device to the place that has been begging for release ever since I watched Daniella take her bra off this morning. This vibrator has been in between the famous legs of premiere ballerina Daniella Neveu. I can't help myself. I press on and within 30 seconds I quickly reach orgasm, imagining that it is Daniella instead of a vibrator. I make it just in time before two girls enter and look questioningly at me, flush and panting lightly. "Tough rehearsal," I say weakly, attempting to explain my rosy cheeks and shaking legs.

Later that night a voice crackles over the intercom, "thirty minutes to places everyone, thirty minutes to the top of the show."

I have butterflies in my stomach at the announcement.The Big Apple Ballet is a prestigious ballet company that I have dreamed of dancing in since I was a little girl and tonight is my premiere show. Technically I have made it. But I still feel not good enough, not worthy of sharing the stage with these amazing artists.

The other dancers stream out of the dressing room to go warm up but I notice Daniella still spitting at her designated spot- queen that she is, making no effort to prepare for her starring role. She is pouting in her bored way as she flicks her finger across her phone screen. Her sculpted legs are clad in black tights, and I can see through the mesh that she isn't wearing underwear underneath. I try not to stare but I can make out a perfectly manicured strip of black hair. She has her legs up on the chair next to her, elevating them so that she is ready to perform.

Daniella is one of the older dancers in the company- though at 32 that's not saying much. Her body is amazing. Anyone could guess that she is still in her early 20s. I wish I could be like Daniella. So confident in her body. So willing to sit with her entire body exposed. I look at myself in the mirror. For my show, I am wearing a light blue leotard and pink tights. The outfit makes me look even younger than I am. Like I just started ballet school instead of getting ready to go on stage for the first time as a professional dancer. I suck in my stomach. I am slender around the waist but my boobs have been too big since I was eleven years old. I've tried everything to make them seem smaller- wrapping them in bandages, not drinking water, putting cabbage leaves on them before bed (my Russian teacher swore this would help)- but my boobs are just like my mom's. Nothing I can do about them. While some girls my age would love to have 32C boobs, to me they just make me stand out in a career full of waifs. And in the corps de ballet you are supposed to blend in. They hurt too sometimes when I jump- which is often in this career- and they bounce and jiggle around. Sometimes I see the guys in the ballet trying unsuccessfully not to stare. I know my breasts are desirable- if I wasn't a ballet dancer that is.

Besides being completely infatuated with Daniella, I really look up to her too. I remember the first time I ever saw a real ballet performance- Daniella was the lead. Even then I could tell that she was something special. I don't know how she can be so calm when she has a big role coming up in a half-hour. I am sweating already and I hardly dance at all. "Um Daniella," I said, surprising myself that my meek self is speaking out to my idol. She makes a sound to show she is listening but doesn't look up. Her profile is so stunning.

"I just wonder if you could," I am so lame- what am I even doing? "I just wonder how you don't seem to get nervous at all before a show." There. I said it. I admitted my fear. That I'm not good enough, that I don't deserve to be here, that everyone will see me as the fraud I am.

Daniella looked up. I can't tell if there is compassion in her eyes but she is looking at me. Me. A corps de ballet dancer, a nobody. "Are you nervous?" she asks, her slight accent making me clench in between my legs involuntarily. I nod. "It's your first time, huh?" I nod again. I don't know why but for some reason my eyes are filling with tears.

"I've given up a lot to have this job. My family has given up a lot. I'm not a rich girl who had private teachers and all of that. I had to work early in the mornings before school to afford lessons. I just don't know if I have what it takes." Oh my god. I am crying. What is wrong with me.

I don't see Daniella getting up but all of a sudden she is there, at my chair, wrapping her arms around me, her phone finally abandoned somewhere. Her body feels amazing, warm despite not having a shirt on. The fabric of my leotard is thin and I don't have any sleeves so I can feel all of her heat against my body. Daniella is shorter than me but because I am sitting on a chair her breasts are eye level to me. I open my eyes and there they are, pressed against the side of my face. Her beautiful pink nipples are soft and I have to resist the urge to reach out and feel if they are as smooth as they look.

It occurs to me that Daniella has been embracing me for quite some time now. If I just moved my head ever so slightly to the side her breast would be in my mouth. And that's when I see it. On each side of the dressing room there is a row of lit mirrors. Because they are opposite walls, it gives the visual effect of a row of mirrors that goes on forever. And in that row of unending mirrors I see one million Daniellas- star of the Big Apple Ballet- looking deep into my eyes- with an intensity I haven't seen even in her most dramatic performances. It's like she is giving me courage, permission and a command all at the same time.

So I do it. I move my head ever so slightly to the left and Daniella's nipple slides into my mouth like it was made to belong there. It's not soft anymore, it's become a hard little button that feels so good in my mouth. I start slowly moving my tongue around it, feeling how the bumps on her areola rise up in anticipation. Though I move my head, I keep my eyes locked on Daniella's in the mirror. They are glittering like black fire in the mirror. I gain a little more confidence to continue, doing what I think I have wanted to do since I was eight years old and idolized this woman, this body. I turned my face fully to her breast. It's no longer a casual accident. This is for real. I am sucking Daniella Simone's breast and she is starting to quiver ever so slightly.

I take my hands and place them on both of her gorgeous little breasts and push them together so that I can gorge myself on both of them at the same time. Who knew that licking these fleshy mounds could be so wildly satisfying? I want it to never end, I want to keep licking and sucking these breasts until the end of days but she is taking me away from them- those beautiful orbs that I want most in the world. For a terrible moment I think I must have misread the situation but no, she isn't taking my hands off but moving them down, down to where those black tights are suddenly drenched in wetness. I smell ain intoxicating pungent aroma coming from between her thighs and my mouth starts watering. Daniella rubs my hands over her muscular body and even though I've never touched a female body besides my own, I know what to do. My instincts guide me to her pleasure points and all I want in the world is to be able to have my fingers up her pussy, rocking her so that she starts to gently moan. I rip at the sheer, mesh tights- this tiny strip of fabric that is keeping me from what I need, keeping me from the taste of her in my mouth. I fumble with the tights but she, master of the quick costume change, removes them with a flick of her graceful hands. Finally they are off and I see her pussy bare in front of me like a vision. It is a work of art, all of her flesh and folds glistening in anticipation for me- for me!- I am the one that has brought Daniella to this place. On my knees, with Daniella standing over me like a queen, I take a moment, gazing at this beautiful secret but then need overpowers me- I need to eat that pussy like I've never needed anything before. My fingers separate the two outer folds that have become swollen while I watch and I look up into Daniella's face. Not her face in the mirror, but her real, beautiful face. Her eyes are glassy and her face is flush and rosy. "Now," she commands in a hoarse whisper.

And I am there. I am in it. I feel every crevice, every fold, every beautiful hidden mystery of this gorgeous pussy. It feels like it is mine. I want to take my time but there isn't time. There is a show about to start, there are three thousand people in the audience, but I want this to never end and at the same time I want to make her finish so I can get my reward in the taste of her cum. Daniella's fingers move down to touch her own clit and I am sucking finger and pussy at the same time and she is sticking her fingers into my mouth and I slide my tongue all around, tasting her salty sweetness. She moves her hands to the back of my head and starts bucking against my face and she is fucking my face and I love it and I am about to come with the deliciousness of this pussy but then she pulls me to standing with a surprising strength and says "I want to taste myself on you," and puts my fingers into her mouth and starts sucking them, sensually, gently, rolling her fingers around her tongue like precious morsels. My vision gets blurry, I have forgotten everything, my nerves, my name, all I know is this sensation until suddenly she is the one on her knees and I don't understand anything about the world anymore except that it is a strange and wonderful place.

"Fuck you have a nice pussy," she says and there is wonder in her voice for just a moment. And then she is fucking me with her tongue, thrusting it in and out. Like everything else she does, she is a master at this, wholly in control of her body, she knows exactly how a woman should be fucked. "I'm going to make you come, new girl, so hard you might not be able to dance, ok." She knows I am her prisoner, weak to her. I can't say anything but yes to anything she says now and for the rest of my career. I am willing to sacrifice everything for more of this with her, and as she laps at my clit I think I feel something more than just lust, I feel like this might be the start of something that will last. And with that, Daniella grabs my ass and pulls my body into her face where she buries herself inside of me and I come and I come and I come and she drinks it and drinks it and drinks it and smiles. I haven't even started seeing straight again before Danielle is up, wiping her mouth of my juices.

"Meet me at intermission, new girl" she says as she pulls on her tutu and heads out to the spotlight.