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Ballet One
I’d taken up classes when I was 5 years old. My beautiful mother, Natalya, was an émigré from Russia and had trained at the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow. Then, on a tour in the 80’s to Canada she had defected; not because she hated the Soviet system but because she met my father Andre, a Quebecer. He was a dancer too, but had decided to leave the profession and become an agent. He was still so strong, doing his work-outs daily as if still performing. I used to love to watch him, see the muscles flex and straighten over his beautiful, manful physique. He always had the capacity to make me laugh and was never serious, unless working.
My mother however, had a Russian countenance and used to appear so staid. It was just her way, though there was never a day when she did not tell me how much she loved me and was proud of me. That mask of seriousness, almost primness, was until my 18th birthday.
She suddenly began to confide in me and not just some minor piece of information or concern…
____________________________________
We were in the bathroom at the time. I had just had a shower, a welcome one after a tough rehearsal for The Swan, and was standing with a bath towel around me. She was rising from the toilet having just had a pee and was wiping herself with paper. Although the action was something I had seen many times, as we were always very open with each other in our toileting, her face had a different look about it, as if there was something she needed to say.
“You know, when I met Andre,” she said, moving to the sink and washing her hands. There was a smile forming on her face that made her nose wrinkle up in that cute way I’d noticed since a child. She had used his proper name as we never used ‘dad’ or ‘papa’, or mama for that matter; somehow avoiding such labels. “It was love at first sight,” she continued, as she dried her hands on a small green towel, the smile widening and with a strange glazed look in her eyes; something I had never seen before.
“How romantic!” I had exclaimed, undoing the towel and beginning to rub my tired legs dry.
“Oh yes. I looked at the huge bulge in his ballet tights and just knew I had to have him, and I have ever since that day,” she said excitedly, breaking years of apparent primness in just one sentence.
“Natalya!” I said sharply, standing up suddenly, the towel dropped and forgotten, shocked by her explicitness but acutely aware of that strange look in her eyes again. I had always thought these things were not talked about, well at least in our home.
“What is wrong? It is time you learned about men, women too for that matter, and especially your own sexuality. I have left it too long really but laws are laws and the powers that be think sex begins at 18,” she said, terribly seriously but while looking at me with that glint in her eye. “You have a beautiful body that is sadly unused bar the usual teenage masturbation…”
Should I nod in agreement, keep quiet, ask questions, should I be embarrassed even though I did not really feel it? What should I do? This was so unusual, so unlike her. But then, was it? My mind was racing, playing back moments in time, looking for clues.
There had been frequent times in the past when they sent me to my Uncle Vanya (yes, his mother was mad about Chekhov) and his lovely young wife, Yvette. Andre would hold me and tell me how much he and Natalya both loved me but they needed ‘private time’. It was not until I was older and Yvette’s daughter, Christine (or Cri-cri as I called her) told me in no uncertain terms what was going on that I understood. I had complained each time, which was at least once every two months, about not being able to stay at home.
“Look honey,” she had said only recently, “They’re having private time, which means they are fucking each other’s brains out as noisily as they like for three days. No silent fucks because they are afraid to wake or alert you to the fact they like humping. What heaven! I am so envious. I have to use my vibe and that is never as good. Mum and dad have no problems doing it here with us around, the show-offs that they are. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed them.”
I’d felt such an idiot, denying that my 40+ year old parents had a sex drive, but I was also intrigued by my cousin’s admission that she did it too. Plus, the poundings on the wall and the low moans that I thought I was hearing in my dreams made sense. Well they made sense as much as I knew about sex and that was very little. But what was a vibe? I’d never heard of it. I had obviously looked quizzically at her.
“You do know what fucking is, don’t you?” she quizzed, her eyes a look of amazement.
“Yes,” I said, almost indignantly, but in reality only had the descriptions of other girls bragging in the locker room, one poor quality sex film seen at my friend Vanessa’s house, and what our biology teacher’s student under training had taught us when delegated the task. Every year antalya escort Miss Arnold got a student teacher to do the sex bits. She was a tweedy, stuck up woman who had clearly never been able to cope with a ‘dick in her cunt’, to borrow from Yvette’s phrasebook.
“Ah, so it’s the ‘vibe’ you don’t know about,” she replied, suddenly reaching into her bedside top drawer. She took out a long soft plastic thing about 9″ long with a strange rabbit-like protrusion on the side. “This,” she said proudly, “is known as the Rabbit © because it fucks me like a bunny.” She said, laughing. “The little ears on the side pleasure my clitty when the big dick is in my cunt. Want to try?”
“Of course not!” I had snapped, embarrassed at both not knowing and at her explicit language. I didn’t want her to know I rubbed myself almost every night lately given how hungry my clitty seemed to be for satisfaction, and ewww, what a thought that she might be implying I do it in front of her.
“Ok, ok,” she had said, calming me down, “But when you want to try it, it is there; along with a whole range of other gadgets. Mom borrows them sometimes. Just make sure you clean them properly when you’ve finished. There is both a bottle of lube and another of cleaner at the front of the drawer.” She paused, suddenly looking concerned and thoughtful. “Look we are the best of friends and not just cousins, so come to me when you need advice, ok? You know that what you say stays between us, no matter how naughty or outrageous? I can be trusted.”
“Th-thanks,” I replied, hesitantly but with genuine gratitude. It was true, she never told tales on me. Cri Cri and I always got on, often better than with her younger sisters – the twins, Anya and Irena – who were my own age. Mind you, I was more developed than they were both emotionally and physically. Although a dancer, my breasts were 32C so a nice cup on a small back. I had a wispy bush of golden pubic hair that I loved to caress at night or after a shower, and my sex had large outer lips with enclosed inner until aroused, which lately had been more and more frequently. My clitoris was unusual; I knew that from an examination at school. The doctor had been excited in his examination, but I don’t mean sexually, only writing copious notes that I never saw. You see it is very prominent, reaching more than an inch when erect. Natalya saw me recently coming from the shower with it still ‘up’ and smiled, saying that had I been a man I would have had a big penis. I was so embarrassed but she saw nothing naughty in either seeing it or what she said. In fact, her seeing me had an opposite effect. It stayed up longer! I was surprised how it had a mind of its own and all my blushing did was to make my arousal stronger. I’d forgotten about that first reference to a man’s thing. Maybe this whole objective to open me up to sex, if you’ll pardon the expression, was planned some time ago.
Anyhow, back to the present.
“Maria? Maria?” I could hear my mother calling as if from afar; my mind was caught up in remembering the conversations of the past.
“Yes ma, er, Natalya?”
“I was talking to you about love and sex, about your father’s wonderful cock. Why are you embarrassed? It’s time you learned what to do with them and how good they feel. You need to explore your body with someone, not just in the confines of your bed or shower, though both of those can be fun. In fact, this ballet work is taking over your life not integrating with it. I know we can all as dancers suffer for our art, but as I learned with Andre there is more to life than tutus, jumps and pumps.” She laughed at her little rhyme. “I want you to build your sexual knowledge, learn about sexual enjoyment with both sexes if you so choose. Don’t be constrained by what that prudish society thinks out there. Darling, please stop blushing. Sex is normal, natural and to be enjoyed. You are old enough to explore, just ensure it is safely. I have Femdoms© and condoms in the cupboard by my bed. Take whatever you need and if you want to know something, just ask.”
“Natalya,” I sighed, “Cri Cri has made the same offer, but I am sure I do not need those things. I am not going out looking for a…a….a…”
“Fuck, darling?”
“Natalya!”
“Darling, that is what it is called but it is only one part of the sexual act. There are so many things. I suggest we start simply…”
“Natalya, I am not starting at all!” I cried, indignantly. “When I am good and ready a man will come along and then I can ‘fuck’ as you call it.”
“Why should it be a man? If you like a particular woman, then I will have no objections and neither will your father.”
“Mother!” I always called her that when I was shocked or upset.
“Darling,” she said as she came over to me, taking both my hands in her such delicate ones, “I have been so remiss in not educating you sufficiently in the ways of sex. I do not say love because that is something that will happen fethiye escort someday, wherever and whatever you are doing. However, sex is an important activity in our lives. It gives us energy; it gives us passion, incredible orgasms, immeasurable joy, adventure and even intense pleasure through pain. You do not understand so you reject it all at once. I understand. I did too, but now I am so happy with my sexuality that there is nothing shocking or taboo about it, and as your mother I have a duty to teach you the ways of sex…”
I just stood, mouth agape, watching her lips move as she continued to speak. I had such a jumble of thoughts in my head. Had she really said ‘pleasure through pain?’ and that she had no objections to me having sex with a woman? I could not imagine it, and yet, somewhere in my jumble of thoughts and feelings I did remember the surprising pleasure I felt recently. I was masturbating the other day when an image of Lara, my understudy in Swan Lake, popped into my head. Yes, I had not stopped rubbing myself, but my mind had filled with vivid pictures of her tiny breasts, firm naked thighs and the cutest, tightest buttocks that I’d seen for the first time recently when sharing our dingy changing room. Surely I wasn’t attracted to her? Maybe mum was right, sexual desire was not limited to seeking the other gender? So many questions, so many doubts!…
“..and to fuck with a man of experience is an important part of that development…”
…I felt heat building in my pussy as despite my wanderings of thought, her messages were somehow seeping through my barriers of shock and rejection of the proposal. I forced myself to concentrate, suddenly knowing that deep in my heart she was right, and her next comment was the one that clinched it for me…
“Darling, you cannot play the best leads without having felt the passion and the pleasure that you are meant to be expressing through your dance. For example, in rehearsals today, your interpretation of Odette’s love was, forgive me but I have to say it, wooden. There is sensuality in her dance that was lacking in yours. You are doing her a disservice because you have no experience of the physical sensuality of the dance. It is a one-dimensional exposition of the steps and no more.”
I cried. Natalya rarely had been so critical. It hurt me, but she knew what she was doing. Whenever she made comments as strongly as that I acted on them. I would seek her advice and no matter how hard, what pain, what tests I endured, I would seek to be the best. She was my best friend and as a typical teenager, I listened more to friends than parents, but I was so lucky that she was my mother as well.
Her arms were around me, comforting me. I was suddenly intensely aware of her body against my naked one in a way that differed from before. I noticed her firm breast pressing against my arm, its nipple obviously stiff. I felt her hands in my hair, calming and soothing but with a sensual thrill to the action that was so different from previously. Was this just my imagination, or had something really changed? She was kissing my head and neck, then nibbling at my ear. My tears were subsiding and a heat was growing again between my thighs. I was shocked and yet, not shocked, by a building wetness in my pussy. Her fingers were gently wiping away my tears, replaced by little flicks of her tongue. It felt so erotic and yet so calming. Her other hand was stroking my back along the spine, her nails raking sensually over the skin reaching down eventually to my bare bum. She squeezed gently each cheek, then let her nails rake slightly sharply the newly aroused flesh.
“I love you so much,” she whispered in my ear. “I will help you discover your own desires and sexual pleasure, but if I don’t break away now I have a feeling I may take you to a place you are not yet ready for, no matter how much the aroma of your sex tells me you are.”
With that, she broke away as she said she would do. My whole body tingled in a way that I had never really achieved by myself. In that very instant, I understood and accepted her role was mother and teacher. There was also something else. I had felt no embarrassment that my cunt had given away my desires. No, I had been acutely aware how my scent had attracted her. No more was it just a fluid that could be at times uncomfortable when my arousal was uncontrollable, as happened during my most hormonal days. Suddenly I was proud of my capacity to arouse and be aroused.
“Right,” she said, suddenly fussing around the bathroom, flushing the pee away in the toilet and putting down the lid, then adjusting the towels on the railing, “On Sunday we are having some friends of Andre for dinner. You are invited as an adult now my darling. If you like, bring Cri Cri as your companion as she is nearer your age and Uncle Vanya wants her properly schooled too.”
“I thought she already knew everything,” I said, suddenly realising kaş escort that I may have given away a confidence. “Oh, please don’t let on to Uncle Vanya or Yvette that I know…”
“Don’t be silly my darling. They know all about Cri Cri. They have even shared a lover with her, but each partner has been introduced to her. Now she needs to learn to do her own introductions and pick the right partner or more for her pleasure.”
“Do you mean this is going to be a sex party?” I asked incredulously, feeling doubtful I could cope. In reality I was not even sure what happened at one anyway.
“It may become that, you never can tell with these things. Just come darling and see. It is time you opened your eyes, if not your legs,” she said giggling and with that glint back in her eyes.
“Yes Natalya,” I mumbled, feeling even more unsure, but decidedly curious. I continued to dry my body, again aware of its sensual qualities. The towel over my breasts felt softer, more arousing than ever before. I watched almost dreamily as my mother walked to the door. What a beautiful petite body she has, I thought to myself.
“Oh before I forget,” Natalya said as she turned round in the doorway. “You will find a key in my bedside drawer. It is on an ivory white fob. Take it and open the lowest cupboard on the right by the window in the reading room. Whatever you find in there is yours to borrow. Keep it by your bed or read in the lounge, there is no need to hide from us. Do not feel shocked by any of it. You have choices over what you do or not do, what you like or do not like doing. However, just as I discovered with your father, there are many things that at first seemed abhorrent that I now know are wonderful.”
And with that she blew me a kiss and was gone.
I was suddenly aware that as she spoke I had continued to rub my naked body, standing silently with the towel between my legs. My clitoris was engorged and proud, and a fine strand of juice hung between towel and sex lips.
_____________________________
Rehearsals lasted all week. Each night I came home to a welcome bath that Natalya or Andre had prepared. It was heaven to soak my tired body in the soothing aromatherapy oils. I loved them so much for their help. They took turns to support me at the Conservatoire as we practiced relentlessly for our opening night in four weeks time. Nothing was mentioned by father about the promise of Natalya, but I noticed he was more open with me about a whole range of things. For example, only tonight we were relaxing in the lounge after my bath and he had a Latin dance competition on the television. Previously he would have only critiqued the style, the footwork, the positioning of the arms and hands, but now his whole focus was different.
“Look at how she presses her body to him, Maria. There is seduction in her movements. I can imagine if I was him how the power and heat of her body would entice me, arousing my genitals, to make me want to take her there and then on the dance floor. What power she has in her body! But it is a sexual power and not physical strength that emits through every pore. Watch closely Maria how her breasts heave with desire!”
Her costume was typical of Latin dancers. Her breasts were enclosed in a sequined bra that displayed her to perfection, the tops of her globes pressed tight together like a medieval bodice. She was well-endowed and so there was an ample jiggle of flesh, but most obvious was the desire showing with the heave of her titties. Also, her hips swayed with such seduction to and fro or side to side according to the step and the style. She was not only using her breasts, her cunt that was encased in a bejewelled g-string offered and enticed. I felt my pussy melting with the thought of what she must look like naked. I was momentarily shocked by how I had suddenly found her as desirable as her partner must. I pressed my naked thighs closely together under my towelling robe.
“So sexy isn’t she Maria?” my father asked, a hint of huskiness in his voice.
That was when I noticed it. His trousers had a significant tent at the front. He was hard! My father was openly aroused in front of me and doing nothing to hide it. I’d had little experience of boys outside of dancing and never seen one ‘angry’ as Cri Cri called it. I kept darting my eyes between the sensual display on screen and the enormous bulge next to me.
“Yes, Maria it is arousing me. That is what a good lead female should do to me in the ballet too.”
My God! He had read my mind. I blushed suddenly and shifted in my seat, placing my clasped hands firmly between my thighs, making the situation worse as I felt a fire of desire leap across my cunt lips from my engorged clitoris. It now had the full pressure of my hands. I tried to speak and deny any knowledge of what he was talking about. He was so soft and reassuring with his reply…
“Darling, men do get aroused, just as I know you are. Don’t be shy, be aware and enjoy that feeling. Doesn’t your pussy feel good as you watch the dance?”
I was dumbfounded. I had never lied to my father, but to admit to that? To admit I was aroused and not just by what I was watching? No, surely not.
“I don’t know,” I fudged.
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