Ballet Lesson- A Tina and Ray Story by Dikran_O
An erotic dance for two........
Ballet Lesson - A Tina and Ray Story
By Dikran O.
Ray thought about what Tina had asked him as he drove to the ballet studio to pick her up. She had wanted to know whether he wanted to have more children with her, or rather, more puppies. As a hybrid the chances of her having a human baby were very slim. Not that he had anything against hybrid offspring; Little Stan, Faith and Hope had been a delight. But he had been looking forward to the time that they were finally old enough to attend school full time. More puppies would mean entering that cycle of feeding, changing, burping and daycare all over again. And what would it mean for Tina's career? Would she be able to keep her job as Director of Operations at the Department of Motor Vehicles if she took maternity leave?
Then there was the added complication of him having had a vasectomy after the first litter. But his father, Doctor Goldstein, knew a Urologist with an excellent track record for reversing vasectomies. There was always a slight risk of erectile dysfunction, but if all else failed, there was always the sperm they had frozen back then, just in case.
It was a lot to think about, and he needed to discuss it with Tina somewhere other than their bedroom, where they always seemed to get distracted. Just the thought of more puppies made Tina so horny that they never finished the conversation about whether to have some or not. So he had left the kids at the pool house with Tina's parents, where they could play with their slightly younger aunts and uncles while he and Tina went to a quiet little restaurant he knew to talk this through.
It took him a while to get away from Big Stan and his mate Georgette, mostly because Flower, the saluki that shared Stan with Georgette in an open marriage arrangement, would not let go of his arm as she flirted with him outrageously. Up until recently Ray had believed that she was just teasing, but since Tina had confided in him that the saluki wanted to bed them both at the same time he had tried to avoid the free love advocate. That was something else that Tina and he needed to discuss, but not today.
He had sent Tina a text to tell her that he would be late, without explaining why, sure that she would appreciate the extra time to practice her ballet. The woman who ran the advanced classes was a former lead dancer from the local ballet company and the owner of the studio. She let Tina use the facilities after hours in hopes of having the hybrid poodle join her amateur troupe one day.
The studio was on the second floor above a book store in the business district. At this time of day there was ample parking and Ray was able to find a spot right by the entrance. The door to the stairway was protected by an electronic lock that could be opened by a code entered on a touchpad. The touchpad would allow access until the last student to depart set the alarm and disabled the electronic deadbolt. It was not that they were in a bad part of town or that there was anything particularly worth stealing in the mostly bare dance hall; the lock was there to keep out the perverts that were attracted to scantily clad nubile young girls. Only the staff and the students were supposed to have the code, but having dropped off and picked up Tina there on a number of occasions Ray knew it by heart.
The stairs ended in a small vestibule with three doors. One led to the office and change rooms. Another led straight into the dance floor. The third led to a small room where parents or partners of the students could wait. It was separated from the dance area by a long sheet of glass so that you could watch the progress of your child or partner while you waited. Normally it was filled with anxious mothers or bored fathers, but because regular classes had ended some time ago Ray found it empty.
The lights in the room were off, as they usually were. The glass acted like a two-way mirror when the room was dim, so the young dancers would not be distracted by the antics of their parents. Ray left the room that way because wanted to observe Tina without her being aware of his presence. He had done it before and he found it fascinating to watch her go through her routines in a natural, relaxed state, like a wild doe observed unaware in a quiet meadow.
Ray had never had any interest in the ballet before meeting Tina. His parents were wealthy enough to have subscriptions to the local theatre and had dragged him along a few times when he was a kid. That had stopped, however, when his verbal protests and fidgeting had become an embarrassing disturbance to the other patrons. But his love for the white hybrid poodle made him look on the dance with a new eye.
The dance area was a large rectangular room with two adjacent mirrored walls, one of which had a horizontal barre mounted on it. That was one of the things that Tina had taught him about ballet, that it was a barre, not a bar, although it was pronounced the same way. They had terms for the various foot and arm positions, for the different kind of jumps and turns, for the relative positions of the working leg to the supporting leg, and hundreds of combinations of them all. Most of the ballet terms came from the French, and were spelled and pronounced as they would be in their language. So the word for bending the knees was plie, pronounced plee-ay. A jump, depending on which foot you landed on, was either a jete or a saute, spoken as jeh-tay and sew-tay respectively. And ballet itself was pronounced bah-lay, never ball-ette.
Tina was on the far side of the room near where the mirrored walls joined, stretching on the barre and checking her position in the mirrors. She was dressed as usual in a pale pink leotard that had a low bosom with spaghetti straps. She had not bothered with tights, as the room was warm, but had added a translucent lace skirt that would accentuate her pirouettes and add contrast to her arabesques. Ray noted that she was wearing her en-pointe shoes, not the simpler flats that she wore for warm ups. She must be practicing some serious moves tonight, he supposed.
At twenty seven she was just as beautiful as the day he first saw her in the DMV cafeteria some seven years ago. She was fit , thanks to the ballet lessons, tennis, jogging and swimming, and still weighed exactly ninety pounds, despite giving birth to three pups and raising them in an often high-calorie environment. She kept her face shaven and most of the fur on her body clipped short, except for a neat bun of white fur on her head and a tuft at the end of her tail. Ray wondered for the millionth time what she saw in an older, Jewish Data Analyst like him - and a human to boot.
He admired her as she practiced her positions. Classical ballet was known for its rigorous technique, its flowing, precise movements, and its ethereal qualities. For the students the emphasis was placed on developing flexibility and strengthening the legs, feet, and body core. Ray could attest to the effect the ballet exercises had on his mate's performance in certain areas, she could pull an all-nighter between the sheets with him and still have the strength to get up and see the kids off to school before taking in a morning jog.
Satisfied with her technique, Tina moved away from the barre to stand near the junction of the two mirrors. As Ray watched she practiced the five basic foot positions and the five arm positions in various combinations with her feet flat on the floor. Then she did them again en-pointe.
The positions emphasized different parts of her body. Whenever her arms were above her head and her shoulders were turned out it elongated and flattened her torso, except for her modest but well-rounded breasts. Those orbs stood out independently and quite nicely, courtesy of implants, and no worse for wear after nursing three voracious pups. The en-pointe position had the same effect on her legs and buttocks, making the thighs and calves appear longer and well detailed while emphasizing the jut of her behind. Her tail, a feature most ballerinas lacked, pointed up in a delicate arc that displayed health and happiness, lifting the back of the lace skirt provocatively.
Ray found it all highly erotic, which caused certain parts of him to elongate and stand out also. That was why he tended to avoid watching Tina and the other ballet students practice when there were others watching.
Finished with the basic positions Tina moved to a vertical pole to practice some advanced technique. She had told Ray that the vertical barre was not very common in ballet studios, but unlike Russian or Italian ballet schools American-style ballet, known as Balanchine, was not taught by means of a standardized training system. Like the French ballet, on which it was based, each academy employed a unique training system. The woman that ran this salon believed that the vertical barre, which Ray thought resembled a stripper's pole, helped the students master positions that required the working leg to be raised over the dancer's head. It was useful, Tina had said, when you were training by yourself without someone to steady your leg for you.
Ray watched as Tina stood straight with her spine against the pole, her butt cheeks nestled on either side and her tail bent up at an awkward angle. She turned her feet out until they pointed in opposite directions and slowly bent forward while bringing her left leg up behind her. When her torso and extended leg were parallel to the floor she paused, but in a moment she continued to bend and rise until her head was resting on her right foot and her left leg was pointing at the ceiling.
Wiggling about a bit she used the pole to keep her legs in a perfectly straight line. To do so she had to push herself back against the cold brass, and even from this distance Ray could see her sex, already outlined by the tight leotard, bulge and stretch as it was squeezed against the pole. His hand drifted down to his pants, where his nascent erection had doubled in size.
Out on the floor Tina strained to check her line in the mirrors. She returned to the standing position and tried the vertical splits twice more against the pole. Ray was not sure if it was sweat or something else, but after the third time she left a moist stain on the brass. Seemingly satisfied with her positioning she stepped away from the pole and attempted the same maneuver unsupported. Freed from the confines of the pole her tail resumed its former jaunty arc and it turned with her hips as her leg came back up.
The position made every long, lovely muscle in her legs and ass stand out. Shadows in crotch of her leotards spoke of other wonders that Ray was just a little too far away to make out clearly. He was overcome with a desire to see everything closer. So, while she was occupied checking herself out, he slipped from the room and into the dance hall. Blessing the soft soled shoes that he had worn that day he silently crossed the floor to come up behind her. And speaking of behinds, he thought as he licked his lips, with no pole to block his view he could make out every crease and bump through her sweat-soaked leotard.
Tina straightened up as Ray took the final steps toward her. Pressing himself up against her behind he simultaneously covered her eyes with his hands.
"Guess who?"
"Uhm, let's see." Tina ground her butt against the bulge of his erection. "Oh, hi Jason."
Ray dropped his hands to her hips and turned her to face him. "Tease. How did you know it was me? You didn't even flinch."
"I could see you coming in the mirrors silly." She looked around. "Where are the kids?"
"I left them at the pool house with Stan and Georgette."
"And Flower?" She arched her brows and twisted her lip accusingly.
"I think I saw her around there somewhere." Ray breezed over the subject and hurried to change it. "I thought that we might have a quiet diner together, at Tony's, just the two of us." He said hopefully.
Tina glanced at the clock on the wall. Since starting her climb up the bureaucratic ladder to Director she had become very organized, to the point where she could schedule down to the second. "We're too late for the first seating but we have plenty of time for second seating. That way we'll be out before the theatre crowd shows up. Their lunches are all ready to go," she always made a week's worth of lunches on Sunday, "and dad can put them to bed with his kids." Stan's kids, two from Georgette and one from Flower, all went to the same private Hebrew school as Ray and Tina's kids, so they were all the same morning schedule.
"So, we're good?" Ray asked.
"Yes. I even have time to finish practicing my positions and grab a shower before we go."
"I'll go wait in the visitor's room." Ray turned to go but a small white paw on his arm stopped him.
"No, stay here and help me." Tina said. "This old brass pole is too cold and it doesn't push back the way a real partner does."
Ray turned back and loosened his tie. "You'll have to tell me what to do." He said doubtfully.
Tina sniggered. "When has that ever been a problem?" She turned and stood with her back to him, facing the junction of the mirrors. Once again his bulging crotch nestled between warm ass cheeks and he could feel her tail pressed against his belly. "You're as hard as brass," she commented, wiggling her ass against him, "but at least you're warmer than the pole. Try not to have an accident back there."
Before Ray could think of a witty reply Tina adopted the first position and began to repeat the move she had been practicing. Her left leg came off the floor and rose up alongside Ray as her body lowered. When they were both parallel to the dance floor her tail was freed and she paused to adjust her skirt before continuing.
"What's this move called?" Ray asked as he watched her taut buttocks rotate against his crotch.
"A Pique Arabesque." She replied, pronouncing to first word like a mountain top. "Any time that you tilt the body so that the working leg is above the head is a Penche Arabesque, but with the foot at the extreme apex it becomes a Pique." By the time she finished speaking her left leg and foot were pointed straight up. Ray looked down for a little peek of his own.
"How does that look?" Tina asked.
Ray was studying the contours of her vulva through the thin, damp material of the leotard. "Oh, just fine."
She turned her head to glance in the mirrors. "My leg is at a bad angle. Push it and turn the foot out another fifteen degrees and I'll see if I can hold that."
Ray complied by leaning forward against her and twisting her foot with one hand. He put the other on her thigh to help steady the leg. The short fur was soft under his hand, but the muscle was firm.
"Now let go of the leg." Tina instructed. "But don't back away."
Ray obliged, lowering his hands and leaning back so that he was no longer in contact with her left leg. But instead of dropping his hands to his sides he placed them each on one of the globes of her ass, and then he squeezed them.
"Hey!" She chuckled. "That's not part of Swan Lake."
"Maybe the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies?" Ray ventured, digging his thumbs into the tender space near her tail hole.
Rather than objecting, Tina bent her raised leg until the foot was in the centre of her back, exposing more of her nether regions to Ray's view ... and reach. "Same composer." She commented. "He was known for the passion in his music."
Ray was rubbing her mound with one thumb and the other was pressed against her tail hole. "Passion?" He inquired, slightly short of breath.
"Oh yes." Tina was rotating her hips slowly against his crotch, massaging his erection with her pelvis. "He had several tumultuous affairs and he was once married to a crazy lady."
"I know how that feels."
"Oh, you are so going to get it!"
"That's what I'm hoping for." Ray said, increasing the pressure on her pussy.
Tina placed her paws on the floor and lifted her right leg off the ground also. This increased the pressure of her pelvis on his groin, squeezing his cock between them in a way that was half pain and half pleasure. She continued to bring her right leg up and around until it was beside the left, forcing Ray to shift his hand as her thighs came together. But he was only put out for a moment, for as soon as her knees were together above her head she spread them, rotating her hips in a way that Ray could never imitate, until her bent legs were pointing straight out to each side.
"I'll bet they don't have a term for this position." Ray grunted as he returned to massaging her twat through the leotard. The dampness there contained more than sweat now.
"Not yet." She admitted her voice steady despite carrying most of her weight on her arms. "I just invented it. A reverse plie penche with groin seal."
"Remember what they call a seal in French?" He asked.
"Of course." She laughed. They had learned the term from some Quebecers they met on the beach during their recent vacation. "A Phoque!" The word was pronounced like the Anglo-Saxon activity they were almost engaged in. "And that's what I want from you Ray. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me good and hard and deep."
"You're the boss." And she was, at the DMV anyway. While that occasionally caused complications the side benefit of being able to screw the boss far outweighed them. "I'm putting in for overtime though."
"Denied."
"We'll see." Ray slipped a thumb under the edge if the leotard and inserted it between the twin mounds of her vagina. Her twat was already soaked with the sweet juice of arousal and he was able to work his thumb inside easily. She moaned and wiggled her hips, massaging his cock through the denim of his jeans. With his other hand he pulled the material covering her crotch to one side to expose both her holes. Withdrawing his thumb Ray spread some of the slippery nectar on the strip of flesh between the two and around her puckered tail hole. He reinserted that digit and then, after further lubricating his other thumb with some saliva, he pressed the blunt end against her closed anus.
Ray swirled one thumb inside her while he pressed down steadily harder with the other. Tina moaned and wiggled, rubbing her clit against the bulge in his jeans. Her dark hole was drying out so Ray dribbled more of her cunt juice across it. When he returned his thumb he pushed it straight down. With only a bit of resistance it popped inside, just past the first knuckle at first, but with steadily lengthening strokes he drilled it all the way in.
Now Ray had both thumbs inside her up to the second knuckle and he pumped both holes like he had discovered oil. His fingers were spread in opposite directions across her buttocks and were squeezing those globes rhythmically, reminding him of the clutching creature from the movie 'Alien'. Her tail was whipping back and forth between them as she shuttered and jived against him. Ray started singing the old Jimmy Jones song 'Handy Man' under his breath. "... I'm your handy maa-a-an." He sang louder at the end of the verse.
"Ohhh, yesss. You are my handy man Ray."
"Naw." He said, twiddling his thick digits inside her. "I'm all thumbs."
Tina groaned at his joke, but the groan became a moan and then a gasp as her insides began to twitch in time with his ministrations. She was trembling all over from the stress of holding the position and the waves of pleasure rolling through her.
"Oh God, Ray. I want your cock inside me. I want it in me now. "
Ray was happy to oblige. Little Ray was aching from being crushed between them and the frustration of being just a few layers of denim away from ecstasy. He pulled his thumbs carefully from her holes and undid his jeans while she brought her legs up and around and down again until she was standing with her back to him. He dropped his jeans and boxers to his ankles and his cock sprang up between her legs. She rubbed its shaft with her exposed inner lips as he rolled her leotard down over her perky breasts. Pressing himself against her, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and squeezed those breasts as she lubricated his shaft.
Tina spread her legs, rolled her hips back like she was about to twerk and leaned forward a bit. Ray extended his arms so that he could steady her with his hands on her breasts. She reached between her legs and grabbed his cock, guided it to her slippery slit and poked the head inside. Ray rocked his hips and drove them forward and upward, sinking his length inside her. Tina cried out in pleasure when his balls slapped her clit, and put a paw there to rub it when they fell away. With the other paw she reached back to grab Ray's shirt.
She hung on for dear life as Ray pounded her pussy from behind. The feel of his hot, hard shaft inside her, of his warm palms on her breasts, even the pinch of his fingers on her nipples, all served to augment the frantic rubbing on her clit. To hold back until he was ready, and to give as good as she was getting, Tina used the core muscles she had been developing in the ballet classes to squeeze his root inside her, clutching and releasing it when it was at its deepest, keeping the pressure on it as it slid in and out. But the added friction only heightened her pleasure, and she had to bite down on her lip to continue.
Ray had often fantasized about this, banging a ballerina in the dance floor, and the anticipation built up before insertion had brought him to the edge also. He almost shot off in surprise when he felt her twat rhythmically massaging his joint, but he managed to get back in control. He could only hold out for so long though. He managed another dozen strokes before the feeling became overwhelming.
"I'm gonna ... I'm gonna .... I'm cumm ....cumm .... cumming!" He slammed his cock into her hard one last time and held it there, buried to the hilt.
Tina ceased to resist as soon as Ray started speaking. She felt the burning splash of his spooge inside her an instant before she flooded her chamber with liquid lava, mingling their juices before they dripped out around the base of his cock. She swirled her digit around her clit a few more times to get the last of that orgasm while her ass twerked against him madly, milking the last of his cum ad making him cry out from the intensity of the sensation.
Tina slowly stopped twitching. She put her paws on her knees and rested her weight on her outstretched arms. Ray collapsed against her back, his cock still erect and deep inside her, but she could feel it slowly shrinking. This wouldn't be a double header, unless she did something to renew its interest. But a glance at the clock told her that there was only enough time to get cleaned up if they wanted to make it to Tony's for the second seating.
"We should be going." She advised Ray, wiggling her ass a bit to encourage him to pull out. He did so, with an audible slap as his wet, blood-laden cock smacked against his thigh. He gave her butt one last caress before shuffling backwards to step out of his jeans and boxers.
"Is there a men's room here?" He asked.
"There is a small change room with a single shower for the few male dancers in the studio." She informed him. "If it's anything like the Girl's change room there should be a towel or two hanging up there that you can borrow. If you get done first just wait for me in the car, I won't be too long."
She pulled up her leotard, covered her crotch and adjusted her skirt before heading for the door. Ray just picked up his underwear and pants and prayed that there was nobody in the foyer before rushing out and into the student change rooms. The coast was clear and he found the men's shower with no problem. He had never seen one so clean, but as predicted there was a towel that someone had hung neatly up to dry but left behind. He showered quickly without soap and dried just as fast. He knew that Tina would take her time and blow dry her fur before dressing so she would look her best when they got to Tony's. He glanced out the door of the change room, saw no one and hurried down the stairs to the street.
Tina did indeed take her time, as much as she calculated she had in order to get to the restaurant on time. She rinsed and washed herself thoroughly, inside and out, and shampooed her fur before toweling off. Five minutes with the electric hair dryer was enough to puff up the top knot on her head and dry the short fur on her body completely. She put back on the business suit and skirt she had worn to the office that morning and brushed out the wrinkles that a long day sitting behind a desk had put there. Then she applied make up - just a little powder on her cheeks and around her eyes and some lipstick. When she was satisfied with her look she slung her ballet bag over her shoulder, picked up her purse and went to join Ray at the car.
She was shocked to see the studio office door open as she stepped out into the foyer. The owner, a slim, fit, older woman with a blond hairdo straight out of the seventies, came out and leaned against the door jamb. She crossed her arms across her small chest and gave Tina a knowing grin. Tina suddenly remembered that the office shared the same glass wall as the visitor's room, and that an observer in there would be equally invisible if the lights were turned down.
"How ... how long ha- have out been here?" She stammered.
The owner's grin widened. "Long enough to know that those moves were not from the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies either, although the early passages brought to mind the Nutcracker Suite." She finished with a wink.
Tina's face turned bright red. "Oh, my God, Madam. Please forgive me. It's just that lately .... what with the kids being out at school ... the urge to be a mother again ... you know?" She bit her lip pensively, waiting for a reply.
The owner took her by the paw and guided her to the stairs. "Tut tut, my dear. Think nothing of it. It's so rare to see heterosexual activity in a ballet salon and the whole thing reminded me of the affair I had with Nureyev in seventy-six. Remind me to tell you about it someday. Now you run along to your fine young man and I'll lock up." She urged Tina down the stairs. "But there is one thing you need to keep in mind, young lady." She said sternly as Tina began her descent.
Tina stopped two stairs down, turned and looked up into the stone face of the former Prima Donna. "Yes, Madam?"
"Keep those ankles turned OUT! Having a thumb up your ass is no excuse for poor posture! Why, when Bruhn caught Nureyev and I in the broom closet of the Opera de Paris we were in a perfect Pas de Deux en Derriere. Not an easy thing in such a tight space, no pun intended. He even complimented me before he ..."
"Yes Madam, but I hear Ray honking the horn." Tina lied, turning and fleeing down the stairs. "Good night Madam!"
"Hmpf!" The owner snorted as she turned to lock up. "Young people these days."