"It's time you be with a girl your own age anyway." Was the last thing Jenn said to me when she left.
I decided it was going to be a dancer. I had no interest in butchy girls or unfeminine ones and I loved how ballet dancers kept their bodies. Plus they had a grace usually turned me on, that's why I was surprised who I fell for next.
Since classes were limited during the summer, I signed up for a beginner class. It's good to go back to the fundamentals anyway. Everyone was of varying degrees of experience. I was one of the more advanced students and the teacher always complimented my form and sometimes used me to demonstrate combinations to the other students. After my affair with my former ballet teacher I also had a confidence in my body and myself that I now radiated.
One girl, Melissa was my age, but a latecomer to ballet. She usually had her hair in a bun during class, but one day I saw her with her hair down - it was thick, bright orange red and wavy and went past her shoulders to the middle of her back. She was a little heavy for a ballerina but had beautiful curves and shapely, full ass, accentuated by her bright blue leggings she wore high on her waist. I didn't even know if she liked girls but moment I saw her like that I knew I had to have her.
I started to observe her over the next couple of weeks. She was little awkward and clumsy, and very shy. I suspected she probably didn't have a lot of confidence and probably not that successful with guys. She had what some might consider a homely face, but I realized it was more the lack of confidence and feared look that made her appear that way.
After a few classes you start to see the same faces and I would smile and say hi to everyone when we gathered outside the studio door waiting for the previous class to end. Melissa would usually be by herself, one day I walked over and said "Hi" and introduced myself. We got chatting about ballet. she seemed a little surprised an experienced dancer like me would talk to her, but I assured her she had good technique and that after all we were all here to learn.
"What do you like about ballet?" I asked.
"My mother made me start taking it because she thought I was clumsy," she said. "But then I really started to like it, some day I even want to try pointe."
We talked about ballet and got to the subject of dance wear. Summer classes were less formal and everyone just wore what they wanted.
"You should wear a leotard," I said one day, "It's easier to move once you get used to it."
She had a sad smile on her face. "My mom will only pay for slippers. She says I can just use my regular work out wear since I am not a real dancer anyway. Besides, I don't think I have the body for it."
I turned and gazed warmly into her eyes. "First thing you are a real dancer," I said and she immediately lit up. "Second you have a great body but it's not matter of showing off. You're a real dancer and its what real dancers wear. I have some extra leotards and tights you can have."
She thanked me but thought she was too big. She really wasn't she was only a few pounds more than me, just a curvier body shape. I could tell this girl didn't like her body and she didn't receive love of any kind, let alone romantic. "We'll see about that, come with back to my house and you can try them on."
Her eyes lit up as she enthusiastically nodded her head yes.
After class we went back to my house, I laid out some leotards and tights on the bed. I held up a simple black one. "This would look great on you," I said as I handed it to her. She held it like no one had ever been kind to her. She looked beautiful in the light, with her red hair falling over her shoulders.
"Well, try it on," I said playfully scolding her.
She looked up and smiled and started to take off her clothes. She took off her shirt first, exposing firm, round breasts underneath a black sports bra. Then she slipped out of her high waist black leggings revealing panties of the same color.
"Oh you don't need those," I said, indicating on my body where her panties and bra were, "the leotard and tights will give you all support and coverage you need." She hesitated a moment. "Try it," I said, "It's much more comfortable and freeing".
She smiled and shrugged, "I always wondered what dancers wore under their tights."
She slipped off her bra and panties and put them on the bed. She had bright red pubic hair in a neat triangle. I tried not to stare because I could tell she was very self conscious. She first put on the tights and then slipped into the leotard, she struggled with a shoulder and I came over "Here let me," I said as I slipped it on.
I stood behind her as we both looked into the mirror. "See, they look great on you," I said. She had a bright smile on her face.
"I feel so... good.. like a real dancer," she said.
"Great you can keep them," I said and handed her a second leotard, "And this one too." I was very close to her and could feel the heat from her body. She backed into me a little and I felt her ass hit up against my crotch. It felt so good against underneath the soft nylon.
"Oh sorry," she apologized. "I am so clumsy," she stammered.
She looked so frightened. I told her about many famous ballet dancers that started off clumsy, the worst in their class, or told they would never make it. I told her honest sincere compliments about her technique and how much I admired her for trying and taking it so seriously. "Besides," I said, "I don't like you calling my friends clumsy", and stroked her arm.. She cast her eyes down with an embarrassed smile.
I gave her the other pair and some unopened tights I had. She was reluctant to accept so many gifts, like she thought she didn't deserve them.
