Careful What You Ask For

After a few more minutes of deeply pleasurable purring whilst enjoying his contented grunting, he asked me in our gag language if I was ready for the finale. I nodded sightlessly to him and hummed 'Mmm-Mmm' in my affirmation and he changed up again. The feeling deep inside me was fabulous. I pointed my feet ballerina-style, dug my fingers into the mattress, shook my head from side to side and made deep throaty cries into my gag in total sexual abandon every time he hit my spot.

Then, like a torrent of fresh rainwater bursting out of a storm drain, my orgasm welled up from the deepest depths of me. I went rigid with shock for a second, then screamed through my gag and screamed again and screamed again and then collapsed into an ecstatic moan as I was carried on the crest, then floated in the shallows, then was finally washed ashore, totally spent. In my rapture I realised he had stopped to let me enjoy the gorgeous feeling without distraction. I suddenly felt so overwhelmed with gratitude to and for this wonderful man who had helped me to enjoy such a fantastic experience.

I decided to prove to him that ballerinas really do make the best lovers, thanks to the superb condition of our pelvic floors. I squeezed and released my muscles in a deep rhythm and I delighted in the moans of pleasure he made through his gag with the massage I was giving him. Then I made an encouraging 'MMM! MMM!' noise to him as if saying 'Come on, give me all you've got!' Although I was starting to get sore with the humping of his unsupported body over my groin, I urged him on with 'MOOOUUHM! MUUUHM!' noises through my gag in rhythm with the 'HUUUMPH! MUUUMPH!' noises he was making through his gag as he thrust deep into me. Then he came with a great 'UHHHHRRRMMMM!' and I felt him shudder in his deepest pleasure. I massaged him again and he moaned some more before he went quieter and then I was aware that he was resting his head right next to mine from the feel on my ear of his heavy breathing.

By now we were both bathed in sweat and gasping for breath. We were quickly untied from each other and I felt him being lifted off me. My blindfold was removed and I discovered to my delight that he had been laid on his back next to me. I watched his dick gradually get smaller and saw the great milky glob of his cum accumulated in the end of his condom. I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling as my pussy changed back from a wide open portal to a discrete slit within the deliciously silky smoothness of my mound. I longed to stroke him and tell him and thank him for how wonderful he had made me feel. But we remained bound and gagged and all I could do was smile at him with my eyes and make an 'Mmm-Mmm?' sound to him to ask if he was OK. He smiled back with his shining eyes and made a long, low and very sexily affirming 'Mmmmm!' sound. We held each other with our eyes and then his face came closer to mine. I could see a very faint outline of his lips through his gag and I touched the place with my own plaster-covered lips. Although I couldn't feel his mouth on mine, it was the most amazing kiss I'd ever shared.

**********

It only lasted a second because at that moment Julia started untying me from the bed. Then she lifted me over her shoulder, with my bare bottom pointing to the roof and my ballerina-pointed feet hanging down in front of her, and took me to a side room. My final sight of him was his beautiful body lying stretched on the bed, trussed up like a delicious great hunk of beef and topped and tailed in white by his gag and his plimsolls and socks like a rack of lamb. I longed to see him with his smooth and lightly tanned body glistening with oil, wearing a tiny black satin posing pouch and shiny black leather ballet slippers. Hey! I thought, now he's getting me into this foot fetish business. I bet he thinks I look like a dead deer! The very familiarity of the thoughts I was having about him now suddenly made me realise that I had absolutely no idea who he was, and I absolutely had to see him again.

I was desperate to sign off my contract because I knew that Julia wouldn't speak to me until then, and I needed her help to contact him. But now she laid me on my side on a couch in the side room, facing the wall so she could untie me then left me alone. I was desperate for the loo by now and was so grateful to find that the room contained a small cubicle with a WC. I had a marvellous double relief as I sat on the toilet and carefully peeled off my gag. I shouted in sheer delight at being able to use my mouth again. I laughed at the idea of me and the sight of myself sitting on a toilet naked wearing white plimsolls and ankle socks and laughed again just for the simple pleasure of being able to laugh and patted the floor with my plimsolled feet.

Then I wanted to enjoy the pleasure of unrestricted movement. Using a wall-mounted radiator as a ballet barre, I went through some simple ballet exercises to bend and stretch limbs and muscles that had been fast-bound for what felt like an age. This was not an unusual thing for me to do as I often dance naked in my ballet shoes at home. But now I rejoiced in the wonderful feeling of freedom to move my naked body as I chose and felt very sexy as I saw at the ends of my bare legs my feet pointing in my white plimsolls and ankle socks.

After giving myself a good workout, I took off my plimsolls and socks, had a good long wash and got dressed. They had even provided a new pair of white silk pants for me to wear, which felt lovely against my newly shaved groin. Next to my clothes was a bag with a label stuck to it which read: For your future pleasure. I looked inside and laughed out loud as I saw a length of the rope used to tie me up and a roll of sticking plaster and some small rubber balls like those used to gag me. The label also said: Please keep footwear. My plimsolls were still pristinely white but my socks needed a good wash. I put them in my somewhat unusual goody bag.

I was ready to leave. Another notice said, Prepare to leave. Knock when ready. I knocked on the door and Julia returned and, smiling, handed me another note which read: You will be blindfolded. Can remove on signal 3 knocks. She blindfolded me and led me out of the building, holding my handbag and my goody bag, and into the back of a van. I heard the signal and removed my blindfold. Now I had some quiet moments in which to think.

I knew deep inside me that this incredible experience had changed me forever. Now I really understood that it was far better to get what I wanted by asking and sharing rather than by demanding and dominating. And that what I got was far better for having gone that way. I realised that I was misusing the strength and determination in my nature to overcompensate for a poor self-image. Yet this man had seen me in my little-girlie body in my most naked, vulnerable and helpless state imaginable and found me beautiful and desirable, and I had felt cherished by him. He had encouraged me and comforted me and, even bound and gagged, had taken care of me and been strong for me when I had most needed him to be. By encouraging him and seeking to pleasure him in return, I had had the most intimate, tender and fantastically erotic sexual experience of my life. From what could have been so clinical and sordid and denying of humanity, we had made a wonderful, beautiful celebration of it, together. I just had to see him again!

The van stopped and Julia let me out of the back of the van. We were back where it had all begun two hours and a lifetime ago. I signed the form that said my contract was fulfilled and then we hugged each other close.

"Are you alright Lorna, really alright?" she asked me, anxiously.

"Oh Julia, I've got to know who he is, I have to see him again. Please will you tell me his name and where I can reach him?"

Julia looked at me gently.

"He's a client so I can only give you his personal details if he agrees first. Let me see what I can do."

She moved away from me and sent a text on her mobile. After several agonising minutes she handed me her mobile with a big smile. On the screen I read, STEVE, followed by his mobile number. I burst into tears of joy and relief. I wanted to phone him there and then, but I knew I needed to do some serious de-stressing first to be at my best for him.

"Julia, please take me home," I sniffed as I dabbed at my eyes with the tissue she had given me.

Back at my flat I changed into my favourite Chinese-style dressing gown in dark blue silk, with a picture of swans in flight on the back, and my favourite pink ballet slippers that I wear every day. I ran a bath with my favourite scented oil, dimmed the lights and lit some candles, put some of my favourite romantic ballet music on the CD player, poured myself a large glass of chilled white wine and took out a box of chocolates from the fridge. Then I shed my dressing gown and slid my feet from my ballet slippers and, with a deep satisfied purr, eased myself into the deliciously soft and scented warm water and felt the mountain of foam close in over me. At that very moment my mobile phone, which I had placed in readiness on a chair next to the bath, rang. Before I picked it up I knew for certain it was him.

Chapter 2. All sides now

Part 1 – Steve's story

"Steve, I absolutely love ballet! I went to ballet school until I was 18. Then I was in the University Ballet Company. I still go to classes twice a week and I dance with the local ballet company when I have the time. I'm thrilled you love ballet as well."

It was probably because I had been unable to hear it when we first met that I now loved listening to Lorna's clear, bright, sing-song soprano voice so much. I already knew I could tell her anything.

"Actually I have to admit I'm more into the fetish side of it but I'd watch a ballet with you any time," I said.

"That's a good starting point," she laughed, "I can get complementary tickets through the law firm I work for." Then she asked, "Do you want to come to my flat on Saturday and bring your ballet kit with you?"

"I'd love to come and I'd love to bring my ballet kit if I had some," I said.

Lorna had the answer to that.

"My friend Irina has a dancewear shop in the next town. If you phone her and mention my name she'll give you a private fitting. You could go in the morning, and then we could have an early evening meal and then have lots of time for fun and games afterwards. You can stay the night as well."

Even yesterday I would have balked at going into a dancewear shop regardless of the fun and games on offer. But after the experience we had shared earlier today I no longer worried about such inhibitions.

"That sounds fantastic," I replied, "What's her number?"

I walked into Irina's shop at our arranged time. She was an attractive blonde Czech woman in her late 40's who had danced with the Czech National Ballet. She spoke textbook English with a flowingly dramatic Czech accent.

"So glad you could come," she said, "Any friend of Lorna's gets the very best service here."

She led me into another room where all the ballet clothes and shoes were and I spent a wonderful time with her choosing various colours of leotards, Lycra shorts, tights and sexy leather ballet slippers. The first time I tried on a combination of leotard, tights and slippers, I was glad I was in the changing room on my own because I got a huge hard on with excitement.

Then Irina helped me to choose a tutu. I decided on a simple, white one with a little short skirt. The best part was when I put on a pair of white satin ballerina pointe shoes for the first time. I was still wearing a white leotard and tights and my body and especially my feet looked and felt fabulous. When we'd found the best-fitting pair, Irina sewed the ribbons and elastic on for me while we drank strong black coffee, with me enjoying the shape of my feet in white ballet tights, and she told me stories of her life in the Czech ballet. When I put on the ballet shoes again and she showed me how to tie the ribbons snugly and neatly around my ankles, my rapture was complete. She presented me with a little diamante tiara and let me choose a long, blonde-haired wig.

"So you can be a real Czech Ballerina," she laughed.

"I'll see you again soon, that's a promise," I said to her as I drove away with all my purchases on the back seat.

I rang the bell to Lorna's flat at 6. Her lyrical soprano tones welcomed me over the crackle of the intercom and the door opened with a buzz. She was waiting for me on the landing at the top of the stairs. Now I could see her mouth at last she looked beautiful. It was small and pretty with slightly pouting lips which looked very sexy and suggested a strong temperament behind her cute girl appearance. The lines of her face flowed down symmetrically to a slightly pointed chin to complete an attractive heart shape. I called up to her and as she gradually came all into view as I climbed the stairs with my stuff, my eyes became wide open with excitement.

She was wearing a black basque-style leotard with thin straps that showed her slender shoulders perfectly as her dark hair rested on them. It moulded and caressed her lovely little round breasts that I still longed to fondle and clearly showed them to be bare underneath its Lycra embrace, as her nipples, which I couldn't wait to finger and suck, impressed themselves invitingly within the fabric. It smoothed over the curves of her slightly boyish hips, a part of her which until now I hadn't fully appreciated.

Then she turned sideways to pick up a leaflet left on a table next to her front door and I saw her gorgeously rounded bottom, which stuck out a little and looked perfect for fondling. Her leotard moulded an enticing little curve between her legs and came to a short-shorts length on her thighs, emphasising them and inviting them to be felt all around. On her slim, coltish and slightly gawky girlish legs she wore black fishnet tights with a fine mesh, exactly what I imagined her wearing when I'd first seen her! How did she know? I could only think it was feminine intuition.

Then my heart skipped in excitement when I saw that on her small and pretty feet she was again wearing, still gleaming pristinely white, her plimsolls and a pair of ankle socks with the tops, once again, turned down perfectly around her slim and shapely ankles. Her gorgeous little feet and ankles looked so sexy I wanted to fall on my knees and kiss them there and then.

"Hi gorgeous, you're still wearing them I see," I said, after an admiring glance at her feet.

"They sort of grew on me. I wear them lots now," she beamed and looked at my gear. "It looks like you bought the whole shop," she exclaimed, "I'll help you inside with it."

She bent down to pick up some of the bags and made sure I got a good view of her breasts nestled inside her leotard and of her lovely Lycra-covered bottom.

Once inside her front door we at last held and kissed each other, having been unable to do either at our first meeting. It was worth the wait. Her lips felt gorgeously soft, with a moist fruity quality. I felt the gentle thud of her heart and rise and fall of her diaphragm and every tremble of her body through her leotard. Her breasts again cushioned my chest and her mound snuggled into my groin as they had done the previous time. This time though I could also feel her legs pressed against mine and her slender girlish arms draped around my neck as she buried her long, slim fingers, with beautifully groomed nails painted in soft red, into my hair.

But even as I delighted in the pleasure of our immediate physical contact and the anticipation of much more and varied physical and sensual pleasures to come, I also knew from the moment I first held her that I felt completely differently about her than any other girl I had ever known. I longed to know her heart as well as her body, and yearned to know the joy and pain of revealing my heart and trusting my vulnerability to her. We held each other for a minute, exchanging contended sighs and 'Oh Darlings!' Then she gave me another kiss and, eagerly took my hand.

"Let me show you around," she smiled.

**********

I soon saw that her flat was dedicated to ballet. There were framed ballet posters and photographs on all the walls. Her bookshelves were full of books, videos and CDs devoted to ballet history, ballet dancers, ballet performances, ballet music and ballet photography. The décor included lots of soft satin, silk and lace in white, pink, ivory, cream and peach, contrasting with pale pastel blues and greens, and flashes of scarlet here and there. In pride of place over the sitting room mantelpiece was a large studio portrait photograph of her sitting demurely on a stool, wearing a beautiful white tutu with long gauzy skirt draping her legs sheathed in perfect white tights, her lovely little feet nestling in beautiful shiny white satin ballet shoes with her ankles perfectly and so sexily wrapped in criss-crossing white ribbons, the tips of her toes resting on the floor. Her hair, much longer than now, draped over and softened the line of her shoulder and flowed down her beautifully straight back.

"That's my school graduation picture," she said, then added, smiling coquettishly, "Do you want to slip into something more comfortable before we eat?"

After taking several photos of her sitting on the floor in front of her portrait and looking very sexy in her leotard, fishnets, ankle socks and plimsolls, I took her hint and went to her bathroom to freshen up and change. To complement her outfit, I chose figure hugging black Lycra shorts over close fitting and very cut away black briefs, an equally figure hugging white Lycra vest which exposed my waist and my white ankle socks and white plimsolls. I've kept in trim and have quite good legs so I was pleased with the result. Lorna was very pleased too as I stood framed in her kitchen doorway.

"Steve, you gorgeous man!" she exclaimed as she rushed towards me to embrace and kiss me again. Her touch felt gorgeous through the Lycra. "Come and sit with me for a moment" she said, taking my hand and leading me to her sofa.

We sat with an arm around each other's waist and holding a glass of white wine in our free hand. Our plimsolled feet rested next to each other on the floor like a family of white cats - two little kittens nestling against their parents.

"You look so sexy wearing them," I said admiringly.

"I feel sexy in them," she replied, playfully patting the floor with the soles of her pretty, plimsolled feet. "You were really naughty to make me wear them," she laughed, giving my waist a playful pinch. "I wasn't at all sure about them at first," she continued, "but I really like them now. They remind me of school gym lessons. We wore white polo shirts, navy blue pleated skirts that came just above the knee, with navy blue nickers and white ankle socks and white plimsolls that had to be lace ups and have no markings on them. It was a very conservative school, so no trainers allowed."

"I wish I'd been there," I smiled.

"You would never have passed the medical you naughty boy," she laughed, this time squeezing me between my legs. "Anyway," she continued, "which bits of me turned you on that night?"

"OK, let's tell each other in turn – one bit each turn. You started this by the way", I reminded her.

"I asked you first," she responded.

I began.

"I loved how your tits bobbed up and down when you moved."

She responded.

"I loved how your big dick sprang up when you pulled your pants down."

"I loved watching your cunt getting wet with your pussy juice while you were being shaved."

"I loved watching your balls blow up like a balloon when the tape was wrapped around the top of them."

"I loved how you trembled when my prick first touched your cunt."