#dirty ballet

So here is a sex story from last weekend!  Names have been changed, don’t judge my writing skills or memory too hard; I’ve found it’s actually really hard to recall every detail when you mind has been blown my an orgasm!  Hope you all like!

                It was benefactor night for the Nutcracker; our first real performance held exclusively for those who made some type of contribution to the ballet company.  The performance went well, but there was a cocktail reception held after.  Chatting with everyone was fine enough, but the performers had to stay in costume so we wouldn’t “shatter the illusion.”  I was thankfully allowed to take off my point shoes and replace them with canvas slippers, but I had to keep      on the flat tutu and spent the entire night trying not to knock over tray of appetizers or drinks.  I was the last dancer to finally excuse myself, not wanting to seem rude but it was past time to leave.
                I was exhausted; it was well past midnight and I had been at the theatre since eight am.  When I finally got back to the dressing rooms there were only a few dancers left and they were all hurrying home.  We exchanged weary goodnights and then I was left by myself in silence.  I sat in my makeup chair and sort of starred into the mirror, completely lost in my thoughts.  I always love these nights; the people who are in some way connected to the company are always so diverse.  It’s not a bunch of stuffy rich types; there are young family members, employees of other companies that have donated, or heirs to their family fortunes.  I was mentally going through my own performance when I heard footsteps coming down the hall.  In the mirror I saw a man emerge through the doorway, and my heartbeat immediately quickened.
                His name was Harry, and he had been coming to the ballet events for a while now.  We had started to build a relationship; flirting that eventually led to conversation but neither of us had ever had to guts to make a move.  I felt it would be unprofessional, and since he has never gone for it my bruised ego assumed I had misread the signals.  I turned gently in my chair, “hi, Mr. Bursse, I didn’t know anyone was still here.”
                He smiled and leaned against the door frame.  “Well, my dear, it seems I had a bit too much to drink.  I was just waiting for my ride, wandering around.”  Harry was tall, broad, and fit into his suit like he was born in it.  His deep brown hair had a slight wave to it and his nose was dotted with freckles; a surprise on his browned skin.  He had cracked a few jokes and laughed just carelessly enough at the cocktail reception to make me weak.  I couldn’t think of anything to say, so he crossed and sat down in the chair next to me.  “You were great tonight.”
                I blushed even deeper.  I hate talking about myself so I immediately tried to steer things to the choreographer or the set or anything else at all.  He nodded politely but always tried to bring it back around.  I didn’t think much of it until he draped his arm on the back of my chair to lean in closer.  “I mean it,” he said softly, “you breathed life into it.  It was very—exciting.”  And then he closed the gap between us with a deep, heat of the moment kiss.  I hungrily kissed him back; my mouth opening so that my tongue could lightly dart into his mouth.  He ran his hands along me, always wanting more, until I was straddling him in the chair and could feel his hard cock pushing against my leotard.  “I want you so badly,” he moaned.
                I didn’t need telling twice.  My fingers tore at the buttons on his shirt until I could feel the muscles in his chest beneath my hands.  He lifted me onto the counter in one swift move and started to fumble with the straps on my costume.  It took me a moment and then I giggled; he had no idea how to defeat the leotard.  He grinned sheepishly, “I didn’t want to rip it.”
                “You better not, Miss Christine will kill you.”  Smiling I slid off my pancake tutu and put it carefully back on the rack; feeling his eyes on me the whole time.  Then I gently began to pull down my leotard as I became painfully aware of how un-sexy my ballet bra is.  At least I didn’t have on underwear.  Once I had hung up the leotard I told him “you can do the rest if you want.”
                He crossed to me in a second, his mouth finding me once again as he ripped off my bra.  His large hands cupped my breasts gently, but as the heat built he began to roll my nipples in his fingers until they were hard for him.  I moaned and reached for his pants; brushing his cock as I undid them and let the slide to the floor.  He pushed me back onto the makeup counter and kissed his way down my body.  He licked and sucked my tits until I cried out.  I expected him to rip off my tights but instead he started to delicately unroll them.  The tease drove me wild, and I wriggled with anticipation as his face drew closer to my exposed pussy.  But I wanted a turn first, so when he finally threw my tights aside I quickly dropped to my knees and looked up at him before taking his cock in my hands and gently running it over.  I began to lick and tease the tip before sucking it shallowly into my mouth.  He purred and I went deeper, my hands now toying with his balls as my hungry mouth begged for every inch of his throbbing dick.  I drew his length in and out of my lips; slowly at first and then building speed as I felt his ass clench and his hips rock.  I knew he wouldn’t last long with my mouth working him so hard, so I drew his whole cock deep into my throat and moaned deeply so that his girth vibrated and his load spewed into my eager mouth.
                “Holy fuck,” he whispered, sitting down in the chair and pulling me on top of him.  He kissed me again before throwing me up on the counter yet again.  He nestled his head between my legs, but I needed more than his tongue.  I let him carry on for a while until I knew he would be stiff for me again.  “Oh God, I need your cock,” I finally moaned.  He grabbed a condom from his long-forgotten pants and I eagerly rolled it over his length.
                He was only too happy to oblige; sliding his tip up and down my wet slit before slowly pushing his way deep inside me.  As he drew himself in and out, building speed, my hips began to writhe and circle as I took every inch of him.  I arched my back and grabbed his shoulders and he began working my tits with a fevered enthusiasm.  Then his hand began working its way down my body and along my legs until he grabbed an ankle and hoisted it up behind my ear.  “A cliché, but I had to,” he smiled.  I wasn’t going to argue; his cock was now hitting new places and sending ripples on pleasure through my whole body.  We met every thrust until we both knew climax was close.  He began roughly rubbing my clit and I threw back my head as I felt the orgasm coming on.  He came quickly but continued to thrust and massage hard until my body shook with every wave of orgasm and I called out; echoing in the empty theatre.
                I wrapped my arms around him and tried to catch my breath until he finally withdrew and kissed me yet again.  He was quiet for a moment and then said “ so, when can we do that again?”
                “Depends.  When does your ride get here?”
                “I never called anyone,” he smiled, “I was just looking for an excuse.”
                “Well then,” I said, crossing to him and pressing my naked body to his, “it looks like you’re coming home with me tonight.”