(A companion story to Careful What You Ask For)
Lorna often told Steve that many of her best ideas came to her during her orgasm.
She had supported leukaemia research ever since one of her best friends at ballet school, Cheryl Greenwood, had died of the disease aged only seventeen. Every year since then she had done some kind of fund raising activity. She had run marathons, done sponsored aerobathons, swum many hundreds of lengths and the previous year had made her first parachute jump, although she had not been naked when she jumped as her friend Julia Ellison had once been.
It had been a special year for her since her parachute jump and she wanted to do something special for the Society this year as a kind of thanksgiving. She had confronted and laid to rest some long standing demons and issues and while doing so had, in totally unexpected circumstances, met and fallen in love with Steve Haslam, who fully and demonstrably reciprocated her love in full.
So it was that she was moaning in her ecstasy while her quivering vagina was spontaneously clenching and unclenching on Steve's firmness gorgeously filling her when her idea popped into her head. She told him about it after they had both come down and she lay, still breathing deeply in her pleasure, pressed up warm and comforted against him and enfolded in his adoring arms as she continued to enjoy the pleasure of massaging herself on his bigness still inside her.
"For my fund raising activity this year I'm going to dress as a ballerina for a day next Friday," she announced, giving him another pelvic squeeze and tickling him behind his ear.
"It's too bad I have to go to that rare booksellers' convention otherwise I'd take the day off and come with you." Steve couldn't hide his disappointment as he caressed her bottom and stroked her hair resting on her cheek.
"It's probably for the best because it's the one time when I can't afford to have you going all jealous on me and frightening off potential donors."
"That's all very well but it's some of the potential donations I'm worried about."
"It's very nice of you to be so concerned for my welfare." She giggled and kissed him again. "But I won't be on my own. I've asked Carole Grant from my pointe class to come with me. She's a freelance journalist so she's going to shadow me for the day and sell the story to lots of newspapers and magazines. Because everyone loves reading about what sweet and innocent ballerina girls get up to. And she'll take lots of photos of me," she smiled her sweetest persuasive smile as she kissed him, "which you can enjoy looking at afterwards.
He was persuaded, albeit reluctantly.
********** He was woken on the Friday morning, much earlier than usual, by Lorna shuffling around on the edge of their bed as she pulled on a pair of dazzlingly pure white tights over her little white pants. They stretched enticingly across her bottom and moulded the gorgeous female curves between her trim and very fit thighs. She had already showered and smelled deliciously sweet and fruity from a combination of shower gel, shampoo, hair spray, deodorant and body spray, while her shining, freshly washed body felt wonderfully warm and silky-smooth to his first loving touch of many that day. He smiled as he remembered the pleasure they had shared last night when she lay naked on their bed with her legs apart giggling and trembling in her delight as he had shaved her pussy. He did it for her every month and she called it her Nice Time Of The Month, tempting him by telling him she would feel lovely there under her ballet tights. She had then shaved him and afterwards they had both sighed with pleasure as they rubbed smoothly on each other over a thin film of body-warmed baby oil during their lovemaking, their white ballet-shoed feet rubbing together and up and down each other's legs in their shared ecstasy.
"You seem to be having trouble getting those on," he yawned.
"I'm wearing special support hose instead of normal ballet tights. My legs will be taking a real hammering today so they'll need as much help as they can get." She grimaced with the effort of pulling on the clingy, stretchy material up her slim, coltish legs.
"Hang on a minute. Do you mean you're going to work dressed in your ballet costume? I thought you were just going to wear it in the office."
"When I said 'dress as a ballerina for the day' I really meant the whole day. I'll be dressed in my costume going to work, while I'm at work, when I come home from work and I'll still be wearing it ready to wine you and dine you when you get back from the convention. Although I'll probably be so shagged already that Normal Service will have to be temporarily curtailed."
"Won't wearing pointe shoes all day murder your feet?" He looked at her with concern as he put his arm protectively around her tiny waist.
"Whatever pain I feel will only be the same as what professional ballet dancers feel all the time and what I would be feeling now if I'd gone on to be a ballerina instead of becoming a lawyer." She put her hand affectionately on his where it rested over her navel and kissed him. "Anyway, you've just woken up in time to lace me up into my tutu."
He watched her with eyes filled with love mixed with a good measure each of admiration, aesthetic pleasure and pure unashamed lustful desire as she slipped a dainty foot, rendered irresistible to him by its covering of virgin pure white lycra and nylon, through each leg hole in the gusset of her tutu and pulled it up her lovely slender legs and lithe athletic body until she could snuggle her pert and perfect little breasts into the padding inside her bodice. Her tutu was a real fairy princess confection of pure white silk satin and lace trimmed with pearls and silver thread. The lacy layers of her skirt opened out like a magical flower that sat on top of the long sheer white stalk of her legs.
He knelt on the bed behind her and kissed her bare back as he pulled tight the laces running up the back of her bodice, finishing them off with a neatly symmetrical knot and bow.
"Now can you get my white pointe shoes from the wardrobe for me Darling?" She leaned back and gave him a long, loving kiss whilst she stroked the side of his face to reinforce her request. She knew how much he loved her feet, especially in her ballet shoes, and she always let him get or pick her shoes for her. He loved to reverently caress and take in every detail of her shoes before handing them to her and then watch in delight as she put them on, especially if she was wearing her ballet shoes or her white plimsolls or her fashionably sexy ballerina pumps. She reinforced his pleasure with her very girlie-girl taste in fashion, with lots of short, revealing and strappy items in bright colours and patterns and gorgeously sensual fabrics.
He sat down beside her on the floor and put a loving arm around her waist and watched what to him was one of the most ravishingly sexy things she did, putting on her ballet shoes. He watched every movement with wide-eyed rapture as for each foot she placed her pointe shoe flat on the floor, slipped a soft protective sleeve over her toes, slid her foot into her shoe's satin and canvas embrace, snuggled her toes into the reinforced toe box, adjusted the thin strips of elastic that crossed diagonally over her instep and then wrapped and tied the white satin ribbons around her exquisitely slender and shapely ankles. As she would be wearing her shoes for a long time, she even sewed tiny stitches through the knot to stop it coming undone, before she tucked away the knot and the loose ends of the ribbon.
"Can I have a feel?" he smiled. He took special pleasure in feeling her feet and ankles through her ballet shoes. She snuggled herself up beside him with her arms around his shoulders and drew her legs up so she could place her gorgeously pretty feet in his lap and she kissed and nuzzled his neck as he stroked the satiny loveliness of her feet and ankle wrappings and ran his hands up the snow white smoothness of her slender legs.
She put on full stage make-up, which emphasised even more the dramatic effect of her beautiful dark eyes and her alluringly gorgeous rosebud mouth. She was very skilful at using makeup to emphasise the symmetry of her heart shaped face and high cheekbones. He also loved watching her as she pinned her dark hair into a tight ballet bun and garlanded it with a hairpiece decorated with tiny white rosebuds. A silver and pearl tiara, pearl drop earrings, a silver cross on a chain that rested just above her petite but enticing dΓ©colletage, a bracelet, several rings and her watch completed her outfit.
They were having breakfast when Carole arrived. She was attractive in a smiley, softly spoken, warmly blonde kind of way. After introducing her to Steve over coffee, Lorna suggested taking a few pictures of her and Steve together before he had to leave. Carole took a number of shots of a typical young professional couple having breakfast, with Lorna looking bewitchingly incongruous in her ballerina costume. She also took one of Lorna standing on the points of her ballet shoes to kiss Steve goodbye with her arms around his neck as he held her gently on each side of her waist.
**********
When it was Lorna's turn to leave, Carole went out before her to take photographs as she came out. She felt like she was about to step out before a full house at Covent Garden as she picked up her briefcase and laptop, took a deep breath, glided out through the main entrance to her block of flats and with her turned out ballet girl waddle began the ten minute walk to the tube station.
"May I come through the gate rather than use the barrier this morning?" she smiled at the station staff member, glancing down at her tutu skirt rustling against the automatic barriers to indicate the reason for her request. Carole got a picture of him staring goggle-eyed at her as she elegantly sashayed sideways past him through the gate. Carole went on ahead so she could photograph Lorna's stately progress down the steps to the platform. Graceful as a white flamingo, she pointed and arched her foot down to each step in turn before planting her foot down flat and descending in an almost slow motion glide. She took her accustomed place on the platform and smiled in apology to her neighbours for taking up more space than normal because of the expansionist ambitions of her tutu skirt. She knew many of the faces around her from years of doing the same journey each day. But no one responded with more than a polite smile to her unusual appearance. Lorna wondered if her scheme would turn out to be far harder than she had imagined.
She lived close to the end of the line so there were still seats available in her carriage. She had just settled her skirt around her when a little girl and her mother entered just before the doors closed. The girl stared open mouthed and wide eyed with amazement and delight as she pointed at her and shouted excitedly to her mother.