The Merits of Ballet

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She remembered the sheer elegance of the dance, remembered the feeling of tamed power in the movements of her body under the strain of the arabesque, only dimly aware of her partner’s lips toying with the sensitive skin of her neck. Once upon the time, she had thought there were many commonalities between sex and ballet – both addictive, both ecstatic and both fulfilling. Her back arched at the sting of the bite as her partner’s teeth sank into her skin. A reprimand for inattention. ”I might have to spank you.” She heard the smile in his voice, not a smile that made her doubt the sincerity of his threat, but a smile challenging her to do just that. She etlik escort was glad to oblige, to fulfill his every pleasure – in the end, that was all she desired for the evening. So when his lips tried to find hers, she averted her face, denied him the access he demanded. His reaction was immediate and breathtaking. A sharp series of slaps were alternated on her butt cheeks, each a little stronger than the last. The pleasure/pain sensation reached deep into her, igniting a hidden burn in her core. Her nipples, vaguely interested until now, grew to swollen, hard nubs begging for attention under her low-cut top. But it was not keçiören escort only her own body which reacted to the stimulation. Her partner pulled her close almost violently, leaving her in no doubt about the impressive size of his hard cock under the linen trousers. As a dancer, she understood the endorphin rush from pain, as a woman she had had to learn that the rush could also affect the giver. As his hands soothed away the sting through the fabric of her short skirt, she finally let her lips meet his. Though this time she was the aggressor. Her lips teased and taunted, painting the seam of his without allowing him any kızılay escort real access, before plunging deep and taking all; feeding on his taste of bergamot and citrus, inhaling his clean male scent, holding it captive to let it befuddle her senses. Her hands were quick and agile in unbuttoning his dress shirt. She wanted skin, she wanted the feeling of tight muscles under her fingers, of hard strength covered in velvet. She heard fabric rip, and knew it was not his, but her clothing, which had given under his increasingly frantic movements. He would pay for that. But that was for later. Now she just wanted to enjoy his fervor, his strength as he ran his hand along the back of her thigh and brought her leg up and around his waist, baring her to more intimate explorations in a parody of a dance. His other hand buried skillfully into her hair at her nape, bringing her head back, denying her the kiss she had so skillfully extended.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32