The Ugly Duckling

Movement has been my life. Even as a young boy, all I wanted to do was to jump around, to leap, to express myself with my body. So it was natural that my parents enrolled me for dance lessons. I was one of few boys among a lot of girls. And as I matured, my rarity became even more pronounced. I was straight, in a calling that attracts many gay men. Sort of an ugly duckling I suppose.

It's just that I like women's bodies, their curves, and the flirtatious way they interact with men. I joined all the dance companies I could find, in high school, in college, and now after graduation, in a community dance troupe. And I was fine that the girls assumed that I was gay. That belief made them more comfortable around me, almost inculcating me into their world as an honorary girl. They would not shield their bodies from me, as (they presumed) I was not aroused by them. I dated women, but not those in the dance companies; relationships with those with whom you danced could get complicated, especially if the relationship soured.

Our dance director was a student of dance, who drilled us on the subtleties of movement. He was especially focused on how men and women move and react differently. One's gender informs all aspects of how we express physicality, without our ever giving it much thought. If you saw a darkened, silhouetted figure moving about, 9 times out of 10, you'd know if it were a man or woman by the gait and sway of the body.

In one our workshops, the director decided to drill home the point. He said he'd select two dancers, one man, one woman, to engage in a series of the same dance movements, side by side.

"I want you to observe their bodies as they move, as they jump, as they sway," he said. "Because of how a woman's breasts move, because of the angle of a woman's pelvis, because of how differently weight is distributed on a woman's body, she will execute the same dance step slightly different than a man."

"The man, similarly, because of the heavy musculature on the chest, by his weight structure, and by his unconscious need to always protect his genitals, responds in his unique way."

He continued. "After both demonstrators have performed, each male dancer in the class will replicate the dance moves as if he had a woman's body. And each woman will move as if she were a man. So study the dancers carefully."

He then dropped an unexpected twist. "Each demonstrator will perform in the nude, so the subtlety of each sex's movement will be on full display."

Now, nudity in a dance company is viewed differently than in most settings. When wearing leotards, a dancer's body is mostly revealed. The curve of the breasts, the nipples, the notorious "camel toe" of the women's outfit, as well as the shape of a man's genitals in his leotard, are conspicuous. And a few of our choreography pieces already involved some nudity -- more on that shortly. So the request was not as scandalous as it would be in another profession. But we're not carved out of stone or immune to attraction to the human body. Everyone was a little excited.

"Daniel, you'll be the male lead," he said to me. The other male dancers, who were gay, smiled. They might enjoy this demonstration more than the women. The female dancer was a lovely girl from Israel, Shoshana, with a dark complexion, beautiful skin, and a slim dancer's body with full breasts. I always admired her, and we were friends. But as I said, I never took my interest outside the studio.

The two of us met at the center of the studio. We each were to perform one of our standard duets, with which we were both well familiar. I stripped off my t-shirt and removed my shorts. I stood in my briefs. Shoshana peeled off her top, and then her bra. We looked a little sheepishly at each other.

"Here goes nothing," I said, trying to be nonchalant.

I stripped off my briefs and stood naked. I felt naked in both the physical and emotional sense. Nudity in front of a group is a strange sensation, especially when they are all dressed and 20+ sets of eyes are looking firmly at your privates.

Shoshana dropped her shorts and then the panties. She had a lovely mass of auburn hair covering her vulva.

She whispered to me, "I'm a little embarrassed; I would have shaved if I knew I was going to be on display."

"You look great," I said, and meant it.

The music started and we began the dance movements. There were leaps, spirals, laterals, all the common movements of modern dance. Shoshana's breasts bounced as she spun, my penis flopped as I executed kicks. Never had I been more conscious of how my body moved - or how hers did. I guess that was the point of the exercise.

When we finished, the class applauded. We both got dressed, and shared a smile with each other.

After the class ended, Shoshana came up to me. I guess we had formed a bond, like having a shared secret. Although this secret had been on full display to the world.

"Would you like to get a drink?" she asked.

"I guess I could use one after this class," I replied.

We went to a local watering hole.

She spoke first and laughed. "I don't know who was more interested in your body, the other girls or the guys. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see everyone watching you. Hardly anyone was watching me."

"Well, I'm happy for all admirers," I said, not quite knowing what the proper reply was.

"I notice you don't hang out with the guys much. You seem to like women's company," she said.

"That's true."

"So you're not gay?" she asked.

"No, sorry. Disappointed?"

"Absolutely not. I wasn't sure. But I never had the courage before - or the opportunity -- to ask."

She went on. 'You're a beautiful dancer. You have exceptional grace, and a wonderful body. And I felt that way before today when all my expectations were confirmed."

We both laughed over the joke. I confessed my admiration for her, but how I never acted on it as I feared complicating my dancing life.

"We're both mature adults," she said. "I've always stayed friends with all my ex boyfriends. Just because dating doesn't work out, doesn't mean people should be mean to each other."

She reached out and took my hand. "We'll always be friends; promise?"

My heart was racing. She was offering herself to me. She wanted me. My penis stirred. The touch of her hand caused more passion at that moment than when we were naked together.

We went back to the apartment Shoshana shared with another dancer in the company, Wendy. Wendy was out for the night so we had it to ourselves. This time, the clothes came off in a frenzy. I pulled her t-shirt over her head and kissed her neck. I unhooked the bra hooks while she tugged at my pants. The bra fell off. She knelt down to slide my pants off my feet. She grabbed my briefs and yanked them down. I pulled her shorts and panties down in one tug. We were both naked. Again. Only this time, I was erect, she was rubbing the back of my neck, I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her close to me. Those firm breasts pressed against my chest.

We touched and probed and explored each other's body. Before when we were naked, we couldn't. Now we could, and we had all night.

We moved into her bedroom. She was a sweet and gentle lover. I clung to her, kissed her, touched her, entered her. It was wonderful. How much had I missed excluding this beautiful woman.

Shortly after we started our relationship, the company began rehearsing one of those pieces I mentioned that involved some nudity. I was the only male with six females. The dance number was an erotic themed story of jealousy between two antagonistic women who were vying for the affections of a man, their aerobics instructor, me. After the aerobics class (a dance sequence), the two women encounter each other in the locker room of the health club. One has just come out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. The other is changing clothes and is just wearing her panties. After an exchange of words, and then insults, they begin fighting (in choreographed dance moves, of course.) The towel is soon dislodged, and the one woman is nude. They grapple until finally the topless dancer throws the other woman to the ground, where she lays there stunned. Other women in the locker room have come out to get me, and I enter to break up the fight. I wrestle the first woman away from the victim, whom I find dazed. I carry her naked body outside the locker room. I go to wrap her in a blanket, but as she revives, she sees it is me (her love desire) who has "saved" her. She professes her love, clings to me, and we have a dance number simulating sexual arousal. In the dance, I let her pull off my shirt. As I surrender to her, she reaches to unbutton my pants. She opens the zipper and the pants slide down to my ankles. The lights go dark, and that ends the scene. The rest is left to the audience's imagination.

Shoshana danced the aggressive woman part and the victim was her roommate Wendy. We rehearsed the scene a number of times with the whole crew present, wearing normal dance clothes. But after rehearsal ended, we stayed behind to do it again, this time sans clothes.

Dance moves when one or more parties are nude, and when they are required to physically touch each other, are very complicated. In order not to be obscene or overly sexual (we're a dance company, not a burlesque house), one has to be extremely careful where hands are placed and how bodies interact. It requires intense focus and repetition, so that when staged, it appears natural while remaining appropriate. Wendy and Shoshana staged their fight scene, with Shoshana nude and Wendy topless. It was inevitable that in refining the routine, some touching between the dancers would be a little more graphic than the final edit would allow. But Wendy and Shoshana just laughed or giggled when a hand went a place it shouldn't. Wendy would playfully slap Shoshana's hand, and they'd repeat the move, with more care. Clearly the two women were very comfortable with each other. I gave them some small critiques, and then Wendy and I did our "love" scene. We were satisfied with the end result.

We all went to that local bar that the company favored, to celebrate a successful rehearsal. I had asked Shoshana to keep our relationship quiet, but I soon realized that Wendy knew all about it. I guess it's hard not to share with a roommate.

"I assumed you were gay," said Wendy. "I was so surprised when Shoshana let me know that you were not."

"I like women," was all I said.

"Most dancers I know go both ways," said Wendy. "Dancers appreciate a beautiful body, whether it's male or female. It's hard to resist finding beauty and pleasure wherever it exists."

"Well," I said, "appreciating a beautiful body and being turned on by it are two different things. I'm sure you know that Shoshana has a spectacular body, but I doubt it arouses you sexually."

I expected her to immediate agree with my point, but to my surprise, she said nothing. Nor did Shoshana.

The silence grew and I suddenly had a flashback to the playful banter between the women when hands went where they shouldn't in their dance routine. I know my eyes grew wide.

"Wait a minute. Are you two lovers?"

"Don't be shocked, Daniel," said Shoshana. "I've been meaning to tell you. But I didn't want to scare you off."

"Yes," said Wendy. "We both think you are a beautiful person. Don't think less of us because of this. We like men... and women. And we both like you."

Shoshana clarified. "We both would like to be with you."

As one who used to keep his dating life separate from his dance life, I was being sucked into a vortex of entanglement. Being romantically involved with two dance company members, at the same time, would amplify the dangers geometrically. I knew I had to say no, to run.

But of course I did no such thing. My penis was already straining against my briefs. I couldn't deny it this ultimate guy fantasy, two girls at the same time.

"Let me get the check," I said.

We went back to their apartment. This time, there was no simulation of sex. I unbuttoned Shoshana's blouse; Wendy unfasted the bra. Wendy reached around and cupped and caressed Shoshana's breasts, while I unfastened her pants. When she was naked, Shoshana turned to Wendy and began to remove her clothes. I helped, and garments were flung to the floor. Then they both turned to me. With four hands grabbing at fabric, I was undressed in no time. They swarmed me, laying me on the floor. Wendy put her mouth on my erect penis, slowly sliding back and forth. Shoshana sat on my chest, rubbing my shoulders and face, while I stared at her pubic hair. When my penis could not stand much more, Wendy released me and changed placed with Shoshana. Shoshana lowered herself to my middle and guided me into her opening. Wendy hovered over my face with her groin and encouraged me to use my tongue on her. I was sucking on her when Shoshana's rocking caused me to ejaculate wildly. After I came, Shoshana gently massaged my testicles and deflated penis. It was wonderful.

We spent the night pleasuring each other, girl on girl, girl on boy, boy on girl, and all other possible combinations. There are a lot of them.

We fell asleep from a happy exhaustion. In the morning, I pondered how to approach that erotic dance number when in front of a live audience. I hope I can keep the smile off of my face. And I've decided that it's okay to date company members. I should have started sooner.