The Dance Rehearsal

"You have selected to perform in a dance drama being choreographed by one of our Club members, Amanda. You are to report to the Theater Arts Building, Room 321 at 4 PM on Tuesday, April 7th for your first rehearsal. She will supply you with your costume. Continue taking your supplements, but not the blue diamond shaped pills."

This was a shocker. Ms. Reynolds had told me that I was a good dancer in her art class (WVC Ch.12 - The Intermediate Art Class #3). I thought she was just being nice. Being in a formal performance with classically trained dancers was beyond my comprehension. Still, I showed up on time.

I remembered Amanda from the incident in the bathroom at the Blue Goose (WVC Ch.16) as well as the various ceremonies for the Club. She was a stunner, long legs, gorgeous blonde hair and large, firm breasts. Room 321 turned out to a darkened dance studio with a fidgety Amanda inside. I would have thought that more light would have been preferable, especially with that enormous mirror covering one entire wall.

She wore a sleeveless leotard that accentuated those magnificent globes, the neckline cut low enough to reveal the upper curves. Through the pale pink nylon, I could plainly see the imprints of her puckered nipples. Smiling warmly at me, she held her hand.

I thought she wanted to shake, so I extended my own. Instead, she handed me a pair of gray pants. I'm sure my embarrassed confusion was obvious as a flush started to color my face.

"I'm delighted that you'll be able to perform with us."

"I'm not a dancer, Amanda. I'm afraid you might be better off with someone else.

There was a twinkle in her blue eyes as she reassured me.

"Nonsense, Bill. You're going to just fine."

"Are you sure that I'm the right person for this?"

Her smile grew broader as she nodded, causing those wonderful globes on her chest to sway slightly.

"You'll be perfect. Your role doesn't really require much dancing. I think just your physical presence onstage will be quite powerful.'

I wasn't completely convinced, but her words were encouraging.

"And you have other qualities that I want to use."

I looked at her, but she just smiled.

"We're already well along in the piece and I expect you'll fit right in. The other dancers won't be here for a half hour so we have some time to go over your part.

She motioned to the small garment I held.

"Why don't you change into that so we can get started?"

Looking around the room, I realized that there was no changing room. Puzzled, I turned back to the tall blonde.

"Dancers tend to be pretty informal with each other."

She nodded toward a corner of the room where a backpack and some clothes were piled.

"You can leave your clothes there with mine if you like."

I could feel the blush on my face deepen as I nodded and walked across the room right in front of the huge mirror. I kicked off my sandals and stripped off my t-shirt before I ever really looked at the gray pants. They weren't pants at all. They looked like some kind of modified jock strap, made with shiny nylon. In the mirror, I saw Amanda watching me.

"It's a dance belt. It keeps you from flopping around when you move."

As she grinned, I felt the redness in my face creep down my neck.

"Oh."

"Do you need some help?"

Unbuttoning my shorts, I started to turn away from her when I realized that she would still be able to see me in the gigantic mirror. Well, it wasn't as if she hadn't already seen me totally nude.

Taking a deep breath, I unzipped my cutoff jeans and let them drop to the polished wood under my bare feet. Hooking my thumbs inside the elastic waistband of my underwear, I yanked them down the floor as I bent over. In the mirror, I could see that her smoky blue eyes were focused between my legs as I stood up. Thick and heavy, my cock swung back and forth as I tried to untangle the dance belt.

"The narrow strap goes in the back, just like a thong."

With the blush now spreading across my shoulders, I found the leg openings and stepped into them. Cupping my cock and balls, I eased them into the tight pouch, which must have made using a spandex blend and did indeed provide lots of support. Looking in the mirror, I could see that the sleek cloth molded to my skin, revealing every vein that lined the sides of my shaft. The rounded head was clearly visible, and even the indentation of my cockhole could been seen.

"It looks like it fits."

As the tall blonde strolled toward me, she continued, staring at my bulge.

"We were concerned that it might not be big enough.'

Reaching out, she casually cupped my balls through thin material, lifting them slightly, weighing them in her palm of her hand. I caught my breath at her touch, and just stood there as she fondled me.

"It seems to give you enough support."

Releasing my ball sac, she let her fingers play along the length of my dormant log, tracing the thickened veins. I could feel the blood start to flow below my waist. I wasn't erect yet, but if the stunning blonde kept this up, I would be shortly.

We stood there in silence as her fingertips fluttered over my cockhead, caressing the rounded bulb through the shiny material. I glanced at her breasts, full globes tight against the pink nylon with her creamy skin spilling out above the neckline, the sharp points of her surprisingly long nipples poking through the thin cloth. My stiffening pole continued to swell, filling her hand as she her fingers lightly stroke up and down the full length of my burgeoning pole. I cleared my throat.

"Who are the other dancers?"

"Two other first year students, women who I think you already know."

Still fondling the front of my dance belt, she glanced up at me, her blue eyes sparkling.

"They certainly know you. And we should get started before they arrive."

Releasing her grip on my nearly fully erect cock, she walked back to flick on all the lights before coming to the center of the expansive room, talking over her shoulder as she moved gracefully across the floor. The overhead lights were bright, fully illuminating the studio and creating a shadow beneath the bulge at my crotch.

"The story line is pretty simple. The girls are friends who develop a rivalry for your attention. Each has a solo, and then there's a brief pas de deux to establish their relationship. We've been working on that and are pretty far along."

As she reached the center of the polished floor, she motioned for me to join her.

"You're a working class hero who excites the two women. You have a duet with each girl, and they fight over you. In the end, they decide to share you. Lie down."

Nodding like I understood, I started to stretch out on the shiny wood like I was going to do a push-up when the shapely blonde stopped me.

"No, on your back with your head toward the mirror. That will be the audience."

So I did as she asked, rolling around on the cool wooden floor. Looking down at me, she nodded.

"Good. On a musical cue, you stand up, facing upstage, away from the audience and act like you're taking a shower. Go ahead."

Feeling a bit foolish, I followed her directions.

"Rub your hands all over your body, like you want to be really clean. That's it. Make sure you cover everywhere, up and down the back of your legs, reach behind your back and between your legs."

Feeling even sillier, I did as she said, making sure I covered every inch of my body, rubbing vigorously and concentrating on what the audience could see from behind. Amanda seemed to like that.

"That's excellent! End this section by spreading your feet farther apart and washing your front, between your legs."

I hesitated briefly before complying, lightly scrubbing around the bulge in the front of my dance belt. She came around to my side to see exactly what I was doing.

"No, Bill. I want you to rub like you're getting your penis erect, and exaggerate your arm movements,

Blushing furiously, I obeyed her explicit instructions, loosely gripping the swelling shaft through the skin tight material and stroking energetically. Nodding her blonde head, she smiled.

"Much better! Although next time, you might want to start slower and build up the pace."

My face was beet red and my cock was now fully erect.

"Okay, now you move upstage, stay facing away from the audience and act as if you're digging a ditch, over and over."

After walking away from the giant mirror, feeling like was lumbering along compared to her lithe grace, I stopped where she'd indicated. Spreading my feet well apart, I started mimicking the motion of digging and tossing aside an imaginary shovel full of dirt. Quickly, the repetitive motion became boring and my stiff pole began to wilt. Amanda gave me my next set of instructions as she watched me.

"While you're doing this, the girls are dancing each of their solos and then they engage in a heated duet. It goes on for a while. On another musical cue, you set your pretend shovel down and go back to where you were at the beginning of the piece. Take another shower, again facing upstage."

By the time I finished my ditch, my erection had completely disappeared. Tossing the imaginary shovel aside, I trudged back to center stage and went through the motions of taking a shower once more. While I was facing away from the mirror, I ran my hands all over my body and cleared my throat.

"Do you want me to uh, - to wash between my legs?"

"Yes, please."

While I was rubbing myself, making certain to cover every inch of skin, I thought I heard the door swing open. After a few moments of silence, Amanda spoke again.

"Good. Now end this sequence as you did before, stroking your penis."

I heard a distinct giggle as I began follow her directions, a flush spreading across my face. After a few moments, she called out.

"Excellent! Now turn around and face the audience. Don't do anything. Just stand there."

When I did, I saw that two girls had entered the studio, studying me as they changed into their dance clothes. I recognized the short brunette immediately. It was Stephanie from Professor Grigsby's Physiology class (WVC Ch.18: The Massage Class). The statuesque blonde looked familiar as well, but I couldn't recall where we'd met.

Stephanie finished shedding her clothes first and sauntered toward us, wearing tattered pink leg warmers and a sleeveless leotard, a bright blue nylon that clung to her perky breasts. The muscular brunette wasn't wearing a bra underneath, and her stiff nipples poked through the cloth, the long points holding my gaze as she approached.

"Bill, you remember Stephanie, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. Good to see you again."

Her dark brown eyes were sparkling as she grasped my hand, shaking it firmly.

"Bill, I'm really looking forward to working with you, and getting to know you better."

While she still squeezed my hand, the choreographer introduce the other girl.

"And you've already met Monica as well."

The name rang a bell but I was having trouble placing her. With her beautiful face, gorgeous golden skin and stunning figure, you'd think I'd remember.

"We have?"

I could feel my face coloring as the Stephanie released her grip and I turned to tall blonde. She was wearing bra beneath her black leotard, also sleeveless, but the tightness of the nylon caused her substantial breasts to bulge above the low cut neckline. I tried not to stare at the expanse of sleek looking skin, but she caught me anyway. A knowing smile crept across her pretty face, and her hand was soft and warm.

"Monica, I'm really sorry. You do look familiar, but I can't recall the actual meeting."

She giggled at my discomfort.

"I'm not surprised. You were kind of busy when Amanda introduced us."

"Amanda introduced us?"

"It was two weeks ago at the Blue Goose (WVC Ch.16). In the bathroom. Some bimbo was kneeling on the floor. Sucking your dick."

Immediately, I turned beet red, vividly remembering the scene. So did my cock, beginning to swell. Monica stood there grinning while the short brunette gazed down at the growing bulge between my legs.

"Looks like he does remember."

The flush in my face crept down my neck as all three girls dropped their eyes to my burgeoning crotch. My impulse was to turn away as Amanda spoke.

"Dancers have a very casual attitude toward their bodies, Bill. It comes with wearing leotards and dance belts. They don't hide much, so you better get used to it."

Flashing her blue eyes at me, the older blonde smiled and took charge of the rehearsal.

"Stephanie, set up the bench, and then we'll start immediately after your solos when Bill turns downstage."

I caught my breath as the muscular brunette turned away, revealing that the leotard had a thong back, sliding down between her rounded ass cheeks. She didn't wear any tights, using the droopy leg warmers to cover most of her sculpted thighs. The tight dance belt was uncomfortable and without thinking, reached down to rearrange the swelling pole inside.

The two blondes saw me adjust my crotch and grinned broadly. The blush on my face deepened as Amanda spoke.

"Once you've finished playing with yourself Bill, we'll start where you left off."

By now, the reddish flush covered most of my shoulders. I knew because I could see in it in the mirror. Sheepishly, I just stood there as the two dancers assumed their positions, looking directly at me.

After a very long moment, Monica came toward me with long gliding steps and took my hand, leading me closer to the mirror, where the audience would be. Gracefully, Stephanie sat down on the angled bench, watching us. With the blonde choreographer helping me, Monica and went through our duet, all extended flowing lines for her and static poses for me, mostly with my feet spread well apart.

The shapely blonde slid her hands all across my body as she danced around me, covering my chest, my stomach, my thighs, even caressing my ass cheeks when she was behind me. Since she was tall, only a few inches shorter than I was, we didn't do any lifts. We did do several extended counterbalances, again with Amanda guiding my movements. And despite the strenuous workout she put me through, my cock stayed thick and full inside the nylon dance belt.

After wrapping her arms around my neck, Monica made eye contact with me as she slithered down the front of my torso all the way to the floor. As I stood there, Stephanie rose from her bench to step glide around us, as if she were a hunter circling her prey. The blonde on the floor crawled between my open legs and while Stephanie was out of sight behind me, I snuck a peek in the mirror.

With the direct overhead lighting and the large shadow it cast, the partly swollen log in my dance belt looked huge. There was nothing I could do about it as the little brunette came back into my view and abruptly ran right at me. Startled, I caught her with a purely reflex action as she leapt into my arms. Busy with the lift and had Amanda's coaching in my ear, I felt two hands grip my butt, and I knew that Monica must have been right behind me. From the angle of her clutching hands, I guessed that she was kneeling on the floor.

Still struggling with the mechanics of supporting the squirming Stephanie, I felt the kneeling blonde press into the valley between my ass cheeks as she squeezed them. I didn't have time to think about it then, I was too busy laboring with the lift, but afterwards and in subsequent rehearsals, I realized that she was shoving her face there.

My duet with Stephanie was much more athletic, with lots of jumps and lifts. The last one of the sequence was a difficult, compound move. She jumped up above my head and slid down my front of my torso, when she touched the floor, she bounced back up and flipped upside down, so that her legs were straight up in the air.

In that position, her head was level with my crotch and her plump mound was pressed against my face. Amanda had me rotate sideways, parallel to the mirror and the petite brunette did an upside down split, opening her thighs wide. As we stood like that, I caught a whiff of her pussy through the thin leotard, sharp and pungent.

I wasn't sure, but I thought I felt her return the favor, pressing her face lightly against the straining bulge in the front of my belt. I didn't have time to dwell on it as Monica slid her hands up the outside of my spread thighs as she rose from the floor.

With her hands resting on my shoulders, the tall blonde molded her torso against my back, her full breasts pressing firmly. Through the nylon, the stiff buttons of her erect nipples poked into my skin. As the petite brunette started to move, Monica slipped her hands around my waist, pressing her hips against me.

Bringing her legs together, Stephanie flipped gracefully to the ground, landing upright like a cat. Grinning, she placed her open palm in the middle of my bare chest and pushed me backward, step-by-step, her brown eyes glittering. With her legs molded close against mine, Monica matched each step, backing up with me, guiding me until I bumped the bench. With a final push, the short brunette shoved me backwards as Monica eased me down onto the bench, parallel to the mirrored wall.

Nudging my knees well apart, Stephanie edged her way to the end of the bench, still smiling broadly as she gazed down at me. The tall blonde stood at the other end of the bench, near my head and almost straddling me.

Stephanie put one hand on the bench just above my hips and ducked her head. Springing up, she swung both legs overhead toward the standing Monica, who caught her in mid-air. From where I was watching, lying flat on my back, it was a breathtaking move. From the audience view, it probably was spectacular.

Once she was upside down, Stephanie opened her legs into a split to allow the other dancer to slide her blonde head between them. And then, like a reverse pushup, the muscular brunette lowered herself until her head was just above my hips. From the audience point of view, we must have been in some sort of triangular shape. And surprisingly, that was the end.

We ran through the trio section once more, stopping to work on the lifts and several of the transitions. By the end of the rehearsal, I was exhausted. Lifting even a small dancer was hard work and I was sweating. Tossing me a towel, Amanda grinned.

"Not bad for your first rehearsal, Bill. We're going to take a break before we work on their solos, but you're done for the day."

"So what do you think, Bill?"

Stephanie's brown eyes were sparkling as she asked. I shrugged as I dabbed the towel on my face.

"I don't know what to think. I don't have anything to compare it with. And I'm still not sure I can do it, at least not like you two."

"You're perfect, Bill. You'll see."

Monica was doing her best to reassure me. She too had a knowing smile on her face, and I felt like there was something they all knew that I didn't. When we finally performed the piece, I found out exactly what was behind those smirks.

I guess that the girls were waiting for me to leave since they stood around, watching me. The blonde choreographer cleared her throat before she spoke again.

"You can change back into your street clothes."

I was covered with a light sheen of perspiration, so I started wiping down, my arms, chest, and shoulders, acutely aware of the girls waiting for me to hurry up and leave. After drying off my legs, I straightened up as Amanda handed me my cut-offs.

"Don't bother with any underwear."

Maybe she knew something I didn't. Turning slightly away from my audience, I took a deep breath and bent over, yanking the damp nylon down my legs to the floor. When I stood up again, my thickened cock flopped loosely between my thighs and I realized that it had been pointless to turn away. I was facing the enormous mirror, and the girls were studying the reflection of my heavy log as it swung back and forth.