“Steve, I absolutely love ballet! I went to ballet school until I was 18. Then I was in the University Ballet Company. I still go to classes twice a week and I dance with the local ballet company when I have the time. I’m thrilled you love ballet as well.”

It was probably because I had been unable to hear it when we first met that I now loved listening to Lorna’s clear, bright, sing-song soprano voice so much. I already knew I could tell her anything.
“Actually I have to admit I’m more into the fetish side of it but I’d watch a ballet with you any time”, I said.
“That’s a good starting point”, she laughed, “I can get complementary tickets through the law firm I work for.”
Then she asked “Do you want to come to my flat on Saturday and bring your ballet kit with you?”
“I’d love to come and I’d love to bring my ballet kit if I had some”, I said. Lorna had the answer to that, “My friend Irina has a dancewear shop in the next town. If you phone her and mention my name she’ll give you a private fitting. You could go in the morning, then we could have an early evening meal and then have lots of time for fun and games afterwards. You can stay the night as well.” Even yesterday I would have balked at going into a dancewear shop regardless of the fun and games on offer. But after the experience we had shared earlier today I no longer worried about such inhibitions. “That sounds fantastic”, I replied. “What’s her number?”

I walked into Irina’s shop at our arranged time. She was an attractive blonde Czech woman in her late 40’s who had danced with the Czech National Ballet. She spoke textbook English with a flowingly dramatic Czech accent. “So glad you could come”, she said. “Any friend of Lorna’s gets the very best service here.”

She led me into another room where all the ballet clothes and shoes were and I spent a wonderful time with her choosing various colours of leotards, lycra shorts, tights and sexy leather ballet slippers. The first time I tried on a combination of leotard, tights and slippers, I was glad I was in the changing room on my own because I got a huge hard on with excitement. Then Irina helped me to choose a tutu. I decided on a simple, white one with a little short skirt. The best part was when I put on a pair of white satin ballerina pointe shoes for the first time. I was still wearing a white leotard and tights and my body and especially my feet looked and felt fabulous.

When we’d found the best-fitting pair, Irina sewed the ribbons and elastic on for me while we drank strong black coffee, with me enjoying the shape of my feet in white ballet tights, and she told me stories of her life in the Czech ballet. When I put on the ballet shoes again and she showed me how to tie the ribbons snugly and neatly around my ankles, my rapture was complete. She presented me with a little diamante tiara and let me choose a long, blonde-haired wig “So you can be a real Czech Ballerina”, she laughed. “I’ll see you again soon, that’s a promise”, I said to her as I drove away with all my purchases on the back seat.

I rang the bell to Lorna’s flat at 6. Her lyrical soprano tones welcomed me over the crackle of the intercom and the door opened with a buzz. She was waiting for me on the landing at the top of the stairs. Now I could see her mouth at last she looked beautiful. It was small and pretty with slightly pouting lips which looked very sexy and suggested a strong temperament behind her cute girl appearance. The lines of her face flowed down symmetrically to a slightly pointed chin to complete an attractive heart shape.

I called up to her and as she gradually came all into view as I climbed the stairs with my stuff, my eyes became wide open with excitement. She was wearing a black basque-style leotard with thin straps that showed her slender shoulders perfectly as her dark hair rested on them. It moulded and caressed her lovely little round breasts that I still longed to fondle and clearly showed them to be bare underneath its lycra embrace, as her nipples, which I couldn’t wait to finger and suck, impressed themselves invitingly within the fabric. It smoothed over the curves of her slightly boyish hips, a part of her which until now I hadn’t fully appreciated. Then she turned sideways to pick up a leaflet left on a table next to her front door and I saw her gorgeously rounded bottom, which stuck out a little and looked perfect for fondling. Her leotard moulded an enticing little curve between her legs and came to a short-shorts length on her thighs, emphasising them and inviting them to be felt all around.

On her slim, coltish and slightly gawky girlish legs she wore black fishnet tights with a fine mesh, exactly what I imagined her wearing when I’d first seen her! How did she know? Then my heart skipped in excitement when I saw that on her small and pretty feet she was again wearing, still gleaming pristinely white, her plimsolls and a pair of ankle socks with the tops, once again, turned down perfectly around her slim and shapely ankles. Her gorgeous little feet and ankles looked so sexy I wanted to fall on my knees and kiss them there and then. “Hi gorgeous, you’re still wearing them I see.” I said after an admiring glance at her feet.
“They sort of grew on me. I wear them lots now,” she beamed and looked at my gear. “It looks like you bought the whole shop”, she exclaimed, “I’ll help you inside with it.”

Once inside her front door we at last held and kissed each other, having been unable to do either at our first meeting. It was worth the wait. Her lips felt gorgeously soft, with a moist fruity quality. I felt the gentle thud of her heart and rise and fall of her diaphragm and every tremble of her body through her leotard. Her breasts again cushioned my chest and her mound snuggled into my groin as they had done the previous time. This time though I could also feel her legs pressed against mine and her slender girlish arms draped around my neck as she buried her long, slim fingers, with beautifully groomed nails painted in soft red, into my hair.

We held each other for a minute, exchanging contended sighs and Oh Darlings. Then she gave me another kiss and said “Let me show you around.” I soon saw that her flat was dedicated to ballet. There were framed ballet posters and photographs on all the walls. Her bookshelves were full of books, videos and CDs devoted to ballet history, ballet dancers, ballet performances, ballet music and ballet photography. The décor included lots of soft satin, silk and lace in white, pink, ivory, cream and peach, contrasting with pale pastel blues and greens, and flashes of scarlet here and there. In pride of place over the sitting room mantelpiece was a large studio portrait photograph of her sitting demurely on a stool, wearing a beautiful white tutu with long gauzy skirt draping her legs sheathed in perfect white tights, her lovely little feet nestling in beautiful shiny white satin ballet shoes with her ankles perfectly and so sexily wrapped in criss-crossing white ribbons, the tips of her toes resting on the floor. Her hair, much longer than now, draped over and softened the line of her shoulder and flowed down her beautifully straight back. “That’s my school graduation picture”, she said, then added, smiling coquettishly “Do you want to slip into something more comfortable before we eat?”

After taking several photos of her sitting on the floor in front of her portrait and looking very sexy in her leotard, fishnets, ankle socks and plimsolls, I took her hint and went to her bathroom to freshen up and change. To complement her outfit, I chose figure hugging black lycra shorts over close fitting and very cut away black briefs, an equally figure hugging white lycra vest which exposed my waist and my white ankle socks and white plimsolls. I’ve kept in trim and have quite good legs so I was pleased with the result. Lorna was very pleased too as I stood framed in her kitchen doorway. “Steve, you gorgeous man!” she exclaimed as she rushed towards me to embrace and kiss me again. Her touch felt gorgeous through the lycra. “Come and sit with me for a moment” she said, taking my hand and leading me to her sofa.

We sat with an arm around each other’s waists and holding a glass of white wine in our free hand. Our plimsolled feet rested next to each other on the floor like a family of white cats - two little kittens nestling against their parents. “You look so sexy wearing them”, I said admiringly.
“I feel sexy in them”, she replied, playfully patting the floor with the soles of her pretty, plimsolled feet.
“You were really naughty to make me wear them”, she laughed, giving my waist a playful pinch.
“I wasn’t at all sure about them at first”, she continued, “but I really like them now. They remind me of school gym lessons. We wore white polo shirts, navy blue pleated skirts that came just above the knee, with navy blue nickers and white ankle socks and white plimsolls that had to be lace ups and have no markings on them. It was a very conservative school - so no trainers allowed.”
“I wish I’d been there”, I smiled.
“You would never have passed the medical you naughty boy”, she laughed, this time squeezing me between my legs. “Anyway”, she continued, “which bits of me turned you on that night?” “OK, lets tell each other in turn – one bit each turn. You started this by the way”, I reminded her. “I asked you first”, she responded.

I began, “ I loved how your tits bobbed up and down when you moved.”
She responded, “I loved how your big dick sprang up when you pulled your pants down.”
“I loved watching your cunt getting wet with your pussy juice while you were being shaved.”
“I loved watching your balls blow up like a balloon when the tape was wrapped around the top of them.”
“I loved how you trembled when my prick first touched your cunt.”
“I loved that you stopped fucking me so I could enjoy my orgasm.”
“I wanted you to enjoy it as much as you could. Especially after all you’d put yourself through to reach it. I loved that you showed me your feet in your plimsolls.”
“I guessed you’d really like that. I loved that you helped me calm down when I got scared.”
“Were you scared?” My voice was softer now.
“Just for that moment. What about you?” She gave me a little kiss.
“A little bit when I started to undress. You really encouraged me then. And I loved the way you looked at me as I was being brought to you.” I gave her a longer kiss.
“I love your little kitten noises”, I continued.
“I love your big piggy grunts”, she answered.
“I love….”

My words were lost as our mouths melted together. We kissed continuously for several minutes as we smoothed our hands over eachother’s bodies, enjoying the alternating sensations of smooth lycra and soft warm skin. She rubbed her plimsolled feet on my bare legs and I was intoxicated by the feeling, along with the mingled smell of canvas and rubber. Sensing the cause of my arousal, she drew her feet up closer so I could feel them through the smooth, pristinely white canvas of her plimsolls and fondle her ankles through the soft cotton richness of her white ankle socks. Then she wrapped her legs around me and as I pushed my groin into hers I felt her dampness through our leotards.

She leaned back from me and looked straight at me. “I was going to wait until later to fuck you but lets have a quickie right now”, she said as she started to pull down the shoulder straps of her leotard. “Let me do that”, I said, reaching towards her shoulders. I pulled the straps down so they rested against her arms. Then I placed my outstretched fingers on the undersides of her breasts before smoothing my hands up and around her lycra-covered décolletage until I could feel her erect and pointed nipples digging in to my palms.

She mewed like a kitten with the noise now so familiar to me as she pushed her breasts further into my palms and kissed me with her rosebud mouth wide open while she buried her fingers in my hair. Then she leaned back again, pulled her leotard down to her waist and, with her naked breasts proud and pouting, returned to the melee for more of the same. I had taken off my vest by now. So after fondling her breasts some more I then pulled her close to me and felt the tracks of her nipples across my chest as she rubbed her breasts against me.

Then she pulled away again, eased off the sofa and stood with her back to me. Her dark hair looked gorgeous against the pale skin of her shoulders as she looked back over her shoulder, giving me a ‘come and get me’ look. I stepped up behind her and, as she lifted up her arms and reached back to massage my hair and scalp, fondled her breasts again whilst I buried my face in her hair, soft and smelling warm and spicy, to kiss her neck and pushed my erection, bulging inside my shorts, as closely as I could into the cleft of her bottom. She eased out of my hands again and bent over, showing her beautiful rounded bottom to my delighted gaze, then reached down to pull up on her black fishnet tights just above her white ankle socks, which revealed her tights to be footless.

She carefully peeled off her fishnets over each of her white plimsolls in turn, straightened up and turned around to face me, now dressed only in her tiny black satin panties and her white plimsolls and ankle socks. In the meantime I had taken off my shorts so now my swollen prick was only partly covered by my briefs.

With a breathy gasp of “Oh you gorgeous man!” Lorna knelt down in front of me, pulled down my pants to make my stiff and swollen prick spring up as she squealed with pleasure and, when I had stepped out of them, she really showed me what she could do. She had a fantastic technique which kept me gasping with pleasure from start to finish.

First she took hold of my prick with thumb and fingertips of both hands and traced the lines of the swollen blood vessels down my shaft as, with the tip of her tongue, she licked my bulbous, glistening head clean of my pre-cum and licked right into my open hole as more leaked out. Then I felt her velvety smooth lips on my hypersensitively tingling head as she drew it around her lips like a lipstick. Then with her rosebud lips pursed around it, she sucked my head as if it were an ice cream, making little contended sighs as she did so whilst constantly stroking the whole length of my tingling shaft. She gradually swallowed more and more of it until I could feel my head right in her throat. I was amazed she could do it without gagging.

Now breathing heavily through her nose she massaged my hot, swollen prick with her lips and tongue as she moved her head rhythmically back and forth until with a moaning cry of “Lorna you’re fantastic!” I exploded my ejaculate in her mouth. As she swallowed each squirt of my cum I felt each movement of her throat through my pulsating, throbbing prick. She made “Mmm! Mmm!” noises as if she were gagged again and memories of that previous time stoked my orgasm even more.

She pulled her mouth away from my still dribbling prick and pulled me down to my knees and kissed me so I could taste myself on her lips and tongue. Then, trembling in her own excitement, she stood up and, while placing my hands on the sides of her tiny black satin panties, she pushed her soaking crotch into my face and rubbed herself up and down over my nose and mouth. The warm, salty taste and aroma of her pussy juice inflamed me again and I pulled her panties down for more.

She skipped daintily out of her panties with her pretty plimsolled feet pointing ballerina-like and I took one look at her fabulous cunt, wide open, lusciously, swollenly pink and soaked in her juices, before sinking my tongue into it. “Oh Steve you animal!” she squealed and pushed my face into her even more. After several gasps she pulled back, took the first two fingers of my right hand in her left hand, and guided them into her opening. She placed my fingertips each side of her clit and for a moment I very gently stroked and played with her tiny shaft, which made her whole body tremble with delight.

She had reached her loud, purring she-cat stage by now. Then with breathy instructions through her purring she directed my fingers across the velvet-smooth lining of her pussy to her G-spot. After showing me where and how to stroke, she trembled with increasing intensity and purred louder until she growled lioness-like as she approached orgasm. Then, as I knew she would, she froze for a second, before climaxing with three piercing shrieks and a long, low moan. In her ecstasy she clamped onto my fingers and drenched them in her juices. Then she released her grip and with a cry of “Taste me, Darling!” held my fingers in front of my mouth for me to lick her warm saltiness again while she sank to her knees beside me to share the pleasure. We collapsed to the floor, wrapped tightly in eachother’s arms and kissing madly with wide open mouths and our tongues sliding across eachother enjoying our combined flavours.

After a few minutes of gentler stroking, kissing and sighing, we took it in turns to wash eachother. Lorna giggled ticklishly as I dried her crotch with a warm, soft towel. I noticed how quickly her mound was disappearing under her thick black hair again. “When I started shaving it, it would take about 6 weeks to grow fully back”, she told me. “Now it only takes 4 weeks and I look forward all month to shaving it off again. It’s such a turn-on for me, as you know” – we laughed together – “I call it my Nice Time of the Month.” “We can shave each other” I said, kissing her where she was now dry and warm. “That would be lovely!” she said, stroking my own re-growing hair.

We ate a delicious cold chicken salad with a glass of white wine whilst sitting at her kitchen table, still naked in our white plimsolls and ankle socks, blending in with the kitchen décor as if we ourselves were some new kind of white goods. Then we finished our wine whilst curled around eachother on the sofa, our legs hanging over the end in a tangle of plimsolled feet flexing and nudging together as we talked more about our first meeting. “Why did you want to do it?”, I asked her.
“I come from a family of competitive high achievers” she began. “I realised that the reason I kept having lousy relationships with men was because I wanted to keep the initiative all the time. Then I realised that the reason I had this fantasy about being kidnapped and tied up and gagged and all the rest of it was because deep down I wanted to experience being completely helpless and relying on someone else to take care of me. You did that for me Steve and it was wonderful and it was why I wanted to see you again.” She gave me a long, open mouthed kiss.
“There wasn’t that much I could do for you, given the state we were in”, I smiled, stroking her hair.
“The point is, Darling” she continued, “is that you gave me everything you had to give of yourself that you were able to give, when I really needed it. I love you so much for that.” We kissed even more passionately.

“How did you get to be there that night?” I asked. She told me her story. “I met Julia – she was Number 3, remember? – in a wine bar and I told her everything I’ve told you. I knew her already from the gym where I work out so I felt I could trust her. Anyway, she put this amazing proposition to me and it even though it sounded so kinky and perverted at first, it touched something deep inside me and it all sort of made sense, so I said yes.”
“Do you want to tell me how Julia ‘kidnapped’ you?”, I asked. Lorna replied, “She met me outside the wine bar and took me to a van. We waited for a couple of minutes until she got a phone call.” I told her it had come from Rick. She continued, “Then she made me get into the back and lie with my face down on the floor while she gagged me then tied me up. I felt scared then, but really turned on at the same time. I kept having to draw my knees up to hide the damp patch between my legs. When we got to the place, she blindfolded me and carried me inside over her shoulder. You saw how strong she is. When she took the blindfold off me, I was in the big room and a few minutes later you arrived. How did you get roped in?”

We both laughed and I told her all about my dealings with Rick. Then she asked me, “What did you think when you first saw me?” I kissed her and said, “Just for a second at first I was worried that they’d kidnapped you for real. But then I thought you looked pretty fit, even though you were dressed like you’d just come out of the office.”
She pinched me as she replied, “If it had been Summer you would have seen me tied up and gagged in my gym kit, which would have given you a much better impression no doubt. Anyway, when I saw you I thought ‘Thank goodness they got somebody good looking. I just hope he isn’t a total pervert’”.

We laughed again and then she asked, “What were you looking for Steve?” “At first I guess I was a total perv’ who just wanted a really fantastic, kinky fuck with some perverted nympho’ with an imagination as twisted as mine.”
“I’m sorry I disappointed you on that one”, she laughed.
I went on, “But then I found myself liking you more and more. You were fabulous when you did that little naked dance for me in your ankle socks and plimsolls. You were really generous and brave to do that for me and it made me like you a lot.”
She replied, “I could see you really liked my feet in my plimsolls so I thought ‘Why not give him something to enjoy instead of just expecting him to give me everything I want.’ I felt good when I did it and it helped me forget myself for a moment.”

After holding her close for a moment I said “By the time they were putting me on to you I realised I didn’t just want to stick my prick into you for a good shag, I wanted to make love to you with my eyes as well. I wished you hadn’t wanted to be blindfolded, although I understood it was part of your own fantasy.”

Lorna’s eyes started to glisten as her voice faltered, “I’m so sorry Steve. You were so lovely to think of me that way. I did it because I felt I needed to be in a state of complete helplessness for it to work for me. I even nearly asked Julia for my ears to be blocked up as well. I’m glad I didn’t because the noises we were making really turned me on and, because I couldn’t move at all or see anything, I needed all the stimulation I could get so I could orgasm. Was fucking me tied up and gagged as much of a turn on as you imagined?”
“It was fun and frustrating at the same time”, I replied. “I wanted to take that really sexy bra you wearing off you and fondle your tits and suck your nipples and I wanted to stroke your feet and ankles after you’d put your ankles socks and plimsolls on and I wanted to lick your cunt and taste your pussy juices and I wanted to hold you tight and stroke your hair and tell you how beautiful you are.”

We kissed long and lovingly. Then she said “And I wanted to stroke and suck your big dick and taste your cum and fondle your cute arse and wrap my legs around you and put my feet on your arse to push you into me even more – I can do that you know – and run my hands down your back and tell you all about the lovely feelings you were giving me inside with your big swollen dick and tell you what a wonderful lover you are.”

After another passionate embrace on the sofa, Lorna suddenly sat up and said “Now Irina made me promise faithfully that I would turn you into a proper Czech ballerina. So first you need to see how an expert does it. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She got up and ran to her bedroom, her white plimsolls flashing with her little skipping steps, and closed the door behind her.

While I waited I listened to her humming and la-la’ing along in her clear, bright and tuneful soprano to a ballet music CD. A few minutes later she emerged from the cocoon of her bedroom transformed like a beautiful white butterfly by a lovely white tutu with pink trimmings and a little lacy skirt that showed to perfection the lovely line of her long and slender legs sheathed and gorgeously moulded in her white ballet tights. Her perfect little feet looked gorgeous in pure white satin ballet shoes with the ribbons tied perfectly around her incredibly sexy ankles. She had piled her hair on top of her head with a pink rosebud garland around it, letting a twist of dark hair frame her perfectly made-up face on each side.

She tiptoed into the sitting room with tiny rapid steps then improvised a little dance for me with turns and twirls and hops and jumps, with her graceful hands and arms making constantly flowing and changing movements. Finally she balanced on the flat of one ballet shoed foot, extended her other leg towards me and rested the very tip of her pointed and arched foot on my bare abdomen. I enjoyed the fabulous sensation of stroking her foot through the smooth white satin of her ballet shoe and her ankle through the sheer whiteness of her ballet tights. Then she said “You’ve got nice round features and high cheek bones and not much body hair. I’m sure I can make you into a beautiful ballerina too.” She took my hand. “You can come into my bedroom now.”

Her light and airy bedroom was another evocation to ballet. Several pairs of different coloured ballet shoes tied together by their ribbons hung on the wall over her bed. A section of her walk-in wardrobe contained her other ballet costumes plus neat piles of leotards, tights and leg warmers in different colours. Her pairs of ballet shoes, all with ribbons neatly folded inside them, were lined up along with her pairs of ballet slippers in soft leather or canvas. She also had lots of pairs of ballet-style fashion shoes. Her white plimsolls had been neatly put away too. Sitting in pride of place in a large, high backed wicker chair in the corner of the room was Lizzie-Jane, Lorna’s ballerina rag doll. “I’ll bring Big Ted next time. They’ll make a good couple”, I said. She laughed as she hugged me, then we laid out my stuff on her bed.

I began my transformation by putting on tiny, tight white briefs. Then I pulled and rolled on a pair of white ballet tights and enjoyed how they moulded my legs into an attractively smooth-flowing shape. Then I stepped into my white tutu and Lorna tightened and tied the laces running up the back and tied the little decorative bow just above my skirt. Then I sat on the floor with Lorna sitting beside me as I enjoyed the fabulous feeling of slipping my white satin ballet shoes onto my feet sheathed in the white lycra silk of my ballet tights and then carefully tying the white satin ribbons around my ankles the way Irina had showed me. Lorna was impressed. “You remembered that really well”, she said admiringly.

She sat me at her dressing table and with great skill and artistry transformed my face with pale white foundation, bright scarlet lipstick with a lip gloss finish, pale pink rouge, lusciously thick black mascara, softer black eyebrow pencil and subtly pale blue eye shadow. She fixed my Czech ballerina blonde wig and tied the hair back into a neat ballet bun, then fixed my little diamante tiara. A set of scarlet false nails fixed to my own completed my transformation. “Wow, I’m gorgeous!”, I exclaimed. “I’ll call you Donna Tripova”, she giggled.

Lorna showed me how to walk in my ballet shoes like a real ballerina and we processed to her other bedroom, which doubled as her studio. We had a wonderful time as, with lots of encouraging comments and kisses and guiding touches from her beautiful hands on my hands, waist and feet, she showed me some simple ballet movements and steps. I told her I wanted to go with her to her ballet class and, however long it would take, learn to dance on my toes. With a delighted cry of “Oh Steve, That’s wonderful!” she sprang up onto the points of her ballet shoes and threw her pale, slender arms around me and kissed me while I enfolded her slim waist, now looking tiny within the tight confines of her tutu bodice, and our tutu skirts rustled and folded together. “Mind you”, I said in a mock-butch voice, “You’ll have to come with me to football as well.”
We both laughed as she replied, “You’ll have to teach me the offside rule first.” Then we took lots of pictures of us together and singly as we posed standing at her practice barre or sitting on a stool or on the floor. We were wondering what to do next when I had a thought. “Lorna, did you come back with a bag of stuff the other night?”
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed gleefully as she understood my intent, “You can do me first if you like.”

It was an incredibly turning-on experience to tie her up and gag her and then photograph her tied up and gagged in her tutu, tights and ballet shoes, knowing it was exactly what she wanted, and then have her do the same to me. We repeated the exercise several times as in stages we removed more of our costumes and our make-up for topless and nude photos. My favourite photos of myself were of me lying bound and gagged and naked in my ballet shoes. with a huge erection, while Lorna, also naked, stood on and pointed at various bits of me with her ballet shoed feet.

Lizzie-Jane was usurped from her chair while I photographed Lorna sitting naked in it, the soft curves of her body complemented by the smooth textured curves of the chair as she artistically posed and pointed her ballet shoed feet. But my favourite picture of her was of her sitting naked on the floor and leaning back against the chair, her spread out legs and the touching tips of her ballet shoes making a sensuous triangle in front her, completely absorbed as she explored her wide open cunt. After I had taken this picture she looked at me directly and said simply, “Fuck me Steve. Please. Make love with me now.”

I picked her up and she relaxed in my arms as she put her own around my neck. I carried her to her bedroom and laid her on her bed. She stretched out to her full length and started to mew like a kitten as I fondled her breasts and played with her swollen nipples and then stroked her mound and kissed her warm wetness between her spread legs. Then as I kneeled up on the bed in front of her she played with my huge erect prick and my swollen balls with the tip of her ballet shoed foot, making my erection sway like a strange and wonderful coral-dwelling sea creature caught in a tropical ocean current.

She spread her legs right out to the sides in splits fashion, displaying her lusciously pink and juicy cunt in all its glory as I approached her and slowly sunk myself into it. We grunted and purred as I eased into the rhythm that we had enjoyed so much before. But this time it was so much better as we could enjoy eachother to the full. I felt her face on either side through her gorgeous hair and kissed her lovely rosebud mouth as hard as I could as I buried my tongue in her hot, lusciously sweet mouth and my groin ached with pleasure at the similar feeling my pulsating prick was getting within her pussy’s hot, slickly wet and velvety smooth embrace.

I changed up a gear to the rhythm which I knew would bring her to orgasm and our bodies heaved up and down together as they strained for ever more air in their exertions. Meanwhile she bent her legs back to rub the soles of her ballet shoed feet on the backs of my legs, which inflamed my passion even more. She stroked my hair and fondled my buttocks and tongued my mouth in her turn. Then she pulled her mouth away to cry out to me: “Oh my darling!…You gorgeous lion!…I’m tingling all over!…
“Fuck me senseless you beast!”

At this she put her ballet shoed feet on my buttocks and pushed down on them while she moved her legs back and forth. The sensation of feeling the soles of her ballet shoes massaging my arse shot me over the top and I came with a great gasp and a deep surging feeling in my swollen, throbbing prick. At almost the same second she tensed and then screamed as her orgasm welled up from deep inside her, so that as my prick pumped her pussy full of my cum it was also being squeezed and soaked in her juices in our mingling ecstasies.

After some more heavy panting we kissed and stroked and held eachother in gentle afterplay, my prick resting contentedly in her pussy’s contended embrace while our bodies came down from the heights. Then I withdrew from her and as she lay stretched on the bed watching her nipples soften and her cunt close contentedly, I fetched a warm soapy flannel and a soft warm towel to wash her. She still had strength to giggle as I gently dried her crotch. We ended the evening stretched out on her sitting room floor resting against her sofa, our legs tangled together, with our feet, still in our white ballet shoes, teasing eachother, while, with a glass of fine cognac each and with lots of flirtatious comments, nudges, tickles and kisses, we looked at all our photos on her plasma TV.

Settling down to sleep in Lorna’s bed was a wonderfully sensual experience in itself. I sank down into the soft mattress and drew the soft warm folds of her duvet, which smelled sweetly of soft ripe fruit, over me. For the first time, I enjoyed the sensation of my bare feet on her naked feet and legs and the exquisite feeling of hers on mine. I absorbed and breathed in her delicious warmth as we snuggled up and wrapped our arms around eachother and with a final kiss we closed our eyes,.

I woke in the darkness of the small hours into a semi-conscious state. My hand drifted downwards and I realised I was erect. I looked at Lorna. Her eyelids fluttered gently as her breath drifted almost silently through her slightly parted lips pouting in her dreaming. Her pale, beautiful face was framed by her dark hair strewn around her pillow and framed again by her arm lying as if arranged around her head. Her other arm lay across the soft, smooth expanse of her flat stomach and they rose and fell together with her breasts with each easy breath. As I moved to kiss her, my hand brushed against her breast. She murmured and her mouth opened a little more and she languidly parted her legs. I eased myself on top of her and with a few slow movements brought a deep contented sigh from her. A few more movements and I was sighing too with a long, slow release before I slid back down next to her again. She had remained asleep the whole time and now smiled dreamily in her nocturnal fantasy world.

As I drifted back to sleep again with her hand in mine, I thought briefly of Rick and Julia and silently thanked them for helping Lorna and I to find all that we now enjoyed in eachother. I hoped they were as happy as I was now. Maybe they were more than just business associates.I hoped they were as happy as they'd made me. With the morning to look forward to, I closed my eyes.