I was very naive. It wasn't all my fault. From an early age I studied ballet. I was actually quite good. For a while I thought I was going to be a ballerina for the rest of my life. At 15 the shine started to fade. I began to understand that not many girls could actually earn a good living at it. Plus I got tired of spending so much time working so hard. It was not a good combination, and I began to drift away from ballet. By 16 I was working only half as hard, and by 17 I had pretty much abandoned ballet. Just teaching younger girls and doing enough to keep in shape.
All of this had worked to limit me socially. My only friends were at the dance studio, nearly all girls, and I had not developed the social skills to make new ones. So i was, at 18, a shy, socially awkward former ballerina who had never been on a date. Really. Never.
My name is Ryann. I do look like what you probably think of a typical ballerina. Fairly tall, very thin, with long, shapely legs, well-toned tight ass, hard abs - I had everything but breasts. Well, I had breasts, but they were quite small. I wore an A cup. It felt like I had been in a training bra all my life. But they were nice and firm, and had large aureoles and nipples.
So when I met a guy who was very interested in me, I was quite unprepared. On our second date he became very physical, and I did not know enough to fend him off. I was not aware of the 'rules'. Should I fight him off? Was I expected to let him do what he wanted? Was there a place in between, and who should decide where that line is? I did not have a clue.
"Oh, Ryann, you are so hot! And such a great kisser!" Jack said.
I'm not sure where I learned to kiss well. It must have just come naturally. Certainly not from experience. I had not even watched much porn. Just enough to get a general idea of what sex was all about. And, of course, to see what a guy's dick was like.
"You're really turning me on, Jack. Maybe we should stop," I told him. My body was tingling in ways I had never felt before.
Speaking of dicks, I was noticing Jack's, pushing his pants up and out. I knew he had an erection - and I was wondering what it looked like. And what it felt like. While my body was responding to his kisses and touches, my mind was pushing ahead.
"Oh!" I said, in response to his hand on my breast. Even I wasn't sure if that was because of the surprise or the ripples of pleasure I felt. Either way, I did nothing to stop him. It felt good, and I didn't want it to stop.
His hand was massaging the back of my neck. His lips moved back to my ear, nibbling the lobe, then my neck. Meanwhile, his hand had somehow slipped into my blouse and, actually, my bra. His fingers stroked the skin of my breast, almost to my nipple, and I was loving it. Wow, never had I even dreamed of feelings like this. My body lit up.
"Jack. Oh, Jack." I moaned in excitement.
Jack misunderstood. "It's okay, Ryann. It feels good. Doesn't it feel good?"
"Oh, hell yeah!" I answered. Perhaps that was too eager.
I felt Jack touch my hand, and move it down to his lap. It touched his pants where his erection was and my eyes popped open in surprise. That was an interesting development. I was not ready for this, but guessed I was to do something with what seemed like an invitation, so I pushed down on the bulge. It felt so hard. My fingers wrapped around the shaft - as much as possible through his pants - and it felt very, very hard.
"You can unzip them," Jack said.
I guess I could. It certainly was something I would like to do. I could get a better feel of it if it was out of his pants. Perhaps see what this interesting thing was really like. At this point I'm sure a small part of my mind was warning me to stop, but most of it was carried away with curiosity. And, of course, lust.