The Dance Teacher Pt. 05

Considering how shy and nerdy Melissa was, I was surprised how comfortable she was in bed. The first time she went down on me, I was amazed how good it felt. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?" I asked. She shyly smiled and just said she liked pleasing me. She was still even a little nerdy -- and admitted she 'read up' on how to have good oral sex. It was such a contrast from her shy, withdrawn public persona, and even in bed she was still hesitant to use words like 'pussy' and just said 'down there'.

One day we were in a dance store trying on different leotards (a dancer can never have enough, and there's always a better one being made!)

She confirmed, as I had guessed, she had never been with a guy or girl and she was an only child and her parents were pretty cold and distant.

"Then how did you know I liked you?" I asked her one day.

"At first I didn't," she said, "I thought you were just being nice, and I thought you just thought of me as my mother did and everyone else- a charity case. I always admired you in class -- you're everything I am not - beautiful, graceful, well liked. Do you ever notice how guys are always looking at you?"

"Maybe because I don't care about them," I replied. I gave her a long kiss "I have other things on my mind," and kissed her again. "So?" I said brushing her ass with my hand, ".. how did you know?"

She paused for a minute, looking down with that delicate gentle smile. She looked up with her wide, round innocent green eyes. "The first time you gave me stuff to wear, i thought it was charity. But even if it was, I felt so beautiful -- and sexy- in them. For the first time in my life someone said I was beautiful and I began to feel like it to. I began to feel wanted. The tights and the leotard felt wonderful, I love how it felt against my skin and sometimes I'd see you walking by in a similar outfit and imagined you might like how it felt too. You know how nice it feels sometimes..,." she giggled a little..."down there."

"Yes," I nodded with a smile. "I love how leotards and tights feel, especially 'down there' - so much more delicate then that yoga stuff."

"After that I just started feeling so good around you... and the second time you gave them to me, I figured you might feel good around me too, so I took a chance," she said, smiling.

We stood there just gazing at each other with my heart racing. We both reached out a hand and gently held each others hands. That day we didn't need to do anything else... I was falling in love.

One day after dance class we were back at my place. She had black leotard on and pink tights, and I was dressed the same. We were doing some post stretching and started talking. I asked if she always knew she was a lesbian. She said she didn't really think about sex or relationships one way or the other, her parents made her feel so unloved she didn't think she'd ever have a relationship of any kind. She sensed that her mother, who as a beauty queen when she was younger and worked in a glamour industry, was disappointed in having a homely child.

I immediately felt a flash of anger and hatred at her mother. I got up and led her to the mirror and stood behind her.

"You're not homely" I told her, "You're beautiful and sexy," I said as we looked at her in the mirror, holding her hip with one hand and stroking her hair with the other. I gently kissed her neck and smelled her hair. I put both my hands on her shoulders under her hair and gently pulled down the straps of her leotard, exposing her breasts. I wrapped both hands around her waist and came closer.

"I can have just about any guy I want and a lot of girls -- I want you, and only you," I whispered in her ear. She leaned back into me and panted with desire. I loved how her leotard defined and shaped her beautiful ass and it separated each cheek and hugged and defined her hips. I pulled down her leotard, kneeling behind her, I could feel the warmth from her body as I slid her leotard off. The quiet, rustling sound of the fabric and our panting were the only sounds in the room. I was on my knees on the carpet, I pulled her tights down and she stepped out of them as I rose up.

She turned to me, our breast touched and the succulent aroma of our sweaty bodies mingled. I stroked her hair and kissed her.

"I know we've been having great sex," I said, gazing into her eyes, "but tonight, I want to make love to you. I want to express our love with our bodies. I love you Melissa."

She almost started to cry, her lower lip trembled. "I- I love you too," she said with tears of happiness.

We both started to cry and giggle and laugh as looked at each other, and she helped me take off my dance clothes. Its unusual for a girl but I admit I had a little fetish for tights and nylon but this time just looking at her with her beautiful naked body, her thick wavy ringlets flowing around her shoulders I didn't want anything but her.

The love we made that day -I can't describe it- it wasn't the 'kinkiest' or the or just about orgasming. Some moments we just laid there and I ran my finger along her curves and lightly touched her nose and smiled. Other times it was a gentle kiss. I sensed at some point we were 'ready' I think we both held back because we knew if we made love this time we'd be consummated in a way so deep with each other it can scary. But I knew I wanted it so after a few minutes of us staring at each other and doing nothing other than just being next to each other, I gently reached for her hand, and we looked into each other's eyes.

"I love you" I said.

She squeezed my hand gently and whispered, almost mouthing the words silently,"I love you too."

Our lips met. It was a gentle kiss, but we crossed into another world after that. I wanted to give her my body and preserve my body only for her. I wanted to feel owned by her and I wanted to own her.

We were 'one' - anticipating each other's wants and needs, at the instance I felt inside me I wanted to lick her, she laid back and spread her legs. Moments later we rolled into a sixty nine with me on top, and I felt her tongue in my butt -- moaned with desire. Sometimes when having sex, I worried about smells and was a little self conscious, but this time all that was forgotten and we made beautiful love. Rather than one long orgasm the whole night was a sensuous gentle steady stream of joy.

After that night, our relationship took a whole new turn; We were lovers -- and had an understanding and closeness unlike anything I experienced.

There are people who get a thrill out of the 'first time' but those are amateurs. The real love making and joy is when you know you partner so well and they know you so well that you perfectly compliment each others needs.

Sometimes during dance class I would just see her beautiful ass with hiked up blue leotards, and knowing she was mine was enough. Sometimes holding her feet and massaging her legs while she was still in her sweaty pink tights and leather ballet slippers was better than making love.

Her confidence began to grow too. She didn't become defiant with her mother -- she just didn't care, and I could tell her mother started to become and enraged and jealous of her. When I was over at the house she'd dart evil stares at me.

"I don't know why you spend so much time at ballet," her mother said to her one day as we were both leaving for class, "You're never going to be a professional."

I stopped and turned to her mother. "Shes a great dancer, and there's more ballet than a professional company, just like there's more to tennis than Wimbledon." Yeah she was holding a tennis racket in her hand.

Her mother said nothing - just gave me a cold stare and walked out. We both looked at each other and covered our mouths to hold back our laughing.

I started to really resent Melissa's mother and I can tell she didn't like me. There is nothing an aging woman who was once good looking hates more than a young good looking woman. I don't mean to show off, but I dance and workout daily and most people would say my green eyes, full lips and thick chestnut hair came together very well.

Once we went to lawn party and her mother was there trying to flirt with younger guys. It was pathetic. I strutted past her and had them all chasing me and asking for number -and Melissa's! Out of the corner of my eye I saw her stump out, furious. We gave the guys our numbers, just to avoid suspicion and even went out on a double date with a couple of them -- hey a free dinner at a nice restaurant is fun once in awhile. We never promised anything and they never got it. Melissa felt bad, but I said it was good to provide 'cover', and "who knows", i said "maybe they were gay guys in the closet". She slapped my arm and laughed. "You're such a goofball".

Goofball!, she said things like that, that's why I loved her so much, as I thought about our bright future ahead.