13 comments/ 61016 views/ 12 favorites Romeo and Juliet By: softbite I have been a ballerina for ten years though I have no intention of revealing where or with whom I dance. Ballet requires a conspiracy of illusion to be at its best and I'd prefer not to distract a potential audience with the knowledge that rather than being deflowered by Romeo this Juliet would prefer the embrace of a delinquent female from the corps de ballet (and that's a story for a later date). Like most dancers I started studying ballet at an early age. The commitment to dance is practically all consuming and so it so no little surprise that most young dancers are limited in their outlook and experiences as so much of the adventure of growing up is contained within the dance studio. I suppose I was more limited than most in that I don't think that a thought entered my head that wasn't crowned by a tiara until I was well into my fifteenth year. Until then it was all tutus, tiaras and pointe shoes. Having been a student of some promise I was picked to be a student associate of the professional company in my city. This meant that I was given a mentor and allowed to take occasional classes with the company in addition to my full time training at a specialist academy. My mentor was a soloist with the company. She was twenty four years of age and with her skill and exquisite Eurasian beauty she stood for me as the ideal of what a ballerina should be. I remember feeling overwhelmed when I was introduced to her as it was just after she had completed a class. Demurely attired in the standard black leotard and pink tights she had released her hair from its customary bun and these extraordinary black tresses cascaded down over her brown shoulders now sheened in perspiration. I felt so timid and awkward before her but she immediately put me at my ease by giving me a sisterly hug and saying that she was so looking forward to being my mentor in the company. Immediately my little world of princes and swans gave way to the profoundest crush I had ever experienced. Like many girls I was a veteran of crushes, the stern but beautiful ballet mistress, the fatherly biology teacher, the gently teasing boyfriend of an elder sister and that old stand-by the unwed French teacher for whom we were always trying to match with an eligible male though all the time thinking that perhaps we would be the best match after all. But these crushes had little to do with any erotic attachment. For me at least they were really more narratives of care and companionship than carrying any notion of being probed by another's tongue, finger, fist or cock. And at eighteen years of age the idea that I was still susceptible to such school girl madness was a little unsettling. However after that first meeting particularly with the memory of her warm belly pressing against mine as she hugged me in greeting this crush was following a decidedly different trajectory. It was a Saturday afternoon. As she wasn't performing that night or in the matinee she had invited me to the company's studios to participate in a morning class. I had been an associate of the company for six months now and so my initial timidity had evaporated and my relationship with my mentor had developed into a really delightful friendship. Though there were approximately six years difference between us she never patronised me nor treated my naiveté with anything less than good humoured interest. Equally she was an excellent teacher introducing me to perspectives and ideas that my life in dance had hitherto inhibited. She was never mocking of my ignorance but at the same time she never indulged it. For the first time in my life I was spending all my pocket money on books and music and art exhibitions instead of tights, leotards or something nifty that would look divine in dance class. In my acadamy's final year recital I had been chosen to dance a pas de deux from Romeo and Juliet. My mentor was on the fast track to principal dancer status and was in the process of preparing her Juliet for the company's next season and her suggestion that she coach me in the pas de deux had me feeling the habitual yearning I experienced whenever I was in her company. A pas de deux is a dance for two, usually a partnership between a male and a female. But in this rehearsal she volunteered to be my partner and the thought of her playing Romeo to my Juliet forced my longings for her into overdrive. At first we stepped through the opening part of the dance. I was like steel in her arms as she supported me through a series of pirouettes. She giggled and turned off the music. 'Lindsay you are being led to your marriage bed but you're dancing as if you are being led to the axe man's block.' I blushed. Absently she moved a tendril of my hair that had fallen on my cheek and placed it behind my ear. She was right of course but I could hardly tell her that the reason for dancing like a brick was her close proximity. So I blurted out that because this dance presaged the losing of Juliet's virginity I thought that she should at least be fearful at the prospect. 'Have you lost your virginity?' she asked. I said that I hadn't and then added 'but I masturbate a lot'. I then clapped my hand to my mouth shocked at the utter stupidity of what I had just said. She roared with laughter while I blushed from head to foot. 'Don't we all?' she giggled. 'Look I appreciate what you say about Juliet feeling anxious about being bedded by Romeo but that's not really a thought that can be supported by the choreography is it? I mean look at the steps they are all fluid and yielding, this Juliet to my mind can't wait to get out of her tutu.' 'Did you feel like that the first time?' I asked. My beetroot paling to pink. 'Oh yes, very much so.' 'Was he a dancer as well?' 'Well actually it was a she and yes she was.' 'Wow' It wasn't the most articulate of responses but it was all I could muster. 'Are you all right with that?' 'With what?' I asked. It was her turn to redden slightly 'That I'm a lesbian' 'Ewwww gross' I squealed and burst out laughing. She burst out laughing as well. 'How old were you?' I asked. 'We were both sixteen' 'Wow' 'So back to Juliet!' 'No I want to know more.' 'I am not going into details if that's what you mean you little pervert' She smiled at me so warmly that it crossed my mind that details are precisely what she would divulge if I nudged a little. 'Nahh its okay I can wait' I said hit by a sudden inspiration 'Lets dance. I want you to tutor me in Juliet' She picked up the cd's remote and said 'Good idea lets start from the beginning' This time I think I could not have been more fluid nor yielding. The warmth of her hands around my waist as she supported me made me feel as if our bodies could indeed melt together. Of course she didn't have the strength to lift me and so she simply held me close and counted the beats of the music in a which a lift was required. The proximity of her body and the warmth of her voice as she counted coursed throughout me. We are all experts at reading body language but dancers through their training are doubly skilled and its almost impossible to keep a secret concealed from a dancer if the body has begun to react to it. I knew that with each step my desire for my mentor would be revealed as if I had shouted it at the top of my voice. And I knew that from her partnering she was not immune to my desire. As I went up on pointe and extended my leg into an arabesque the feel of her hand on my inner thigh sent a wave of pleasure through me. It must have pleased her as well for she left it there slightly longer than the music allowed. My breathing was deep and steady now for this pas de deux like many others is sealed by a kiss and this I would commit to with ravenous intensity. Now with the final bars playing I ran to my Romeo my arms outstretched for his embrace. She took me in her arms and between us we shared such an open look of need that the final notes of the music had us passionately embraced and our mouths sweetly opened to the others desire. Her hands that had held my waist now moved towards my bottom and pulled me close against her. The euphoric feel of her belly against mine was intensified as she insinuated her leg between my thighs and held me tight while I rode gently the strength of her leg. The perspiration that had begun to prick our skin became mixed with my desire and I felt the delicious humidity of my sex as it became wet with each of her kisses and touch. I buried my lips into the crook of her neck overwhelmed by the subtle scent of her skin as she manoeuvred her hand under my leotard and played with contours of my cheeks. The proximity of her hand to my dampening cunt drew excited breaths. I wanted nothing but to be rid of my leotard and tights so that I could have her completely against me. Feeling my urgency she lifted a finger to my lips and gently whispered 'Slowly my lover slowly'. With that she delicately lifted the strap of my leotard and began to peel it from my body as if I were an exotic species of fruit. She peeled it to my waist and held me at arms distance while she took in my small breasts and the painful erectness of my nipples. She bent her head and suckled on my breast. Her tongue rolling against my nipple and her lips beautifully massaging it, sucking it teasing it further. Each sucking moment coursed through my body and induced a proud urgent throb deep in my cunt. I opened my eyes a little and could see our reflection in the mirror. Me erect and strained and my lover bent towards my chest feasting on my breast. Gathering my leotard at the waist she peeled it further. She was kneeling now and my leotard had fallen to the ground. She insinuated her hands between my thighs and pushed my legs a little further apart. My hands came to rest on her head as she leant in and kissed my belly. Her beautifully slender fingers raking the inside of my legs in long slow strokes. Kissing my naked belly she began a slow sensuous descent towards my cleft. She paused there and blew a warm breath that enveloped my cunt. The intimacy of her proximity and this of course being my first time made me suddenly a little self conscious. From her kneeling position she looked up towards me and smiled. I didn't have to look but I knew that from the exertions of my dancing and the arousal she had induced in me that between my thighs my tights must have been soaking. I reddened at the thought that she might find this off-putting. Sensitive to my inexperience she murmured 'Lay down I have to taste you, you smell exquisite.' Her frankness made my heart skip a beat. In all my yearning for her, in all my fantasies in which she led me to her bed I had never thought about the mechanics or the reality involved in making love to a woman. But the way in which she whispered that she had to taste me overthrew any restraint. Soon I would have this exquisite beauty supping on my lips and on my cunt, the tresses of her long midnight black hair caressing my inner thighs as she took her pleasure from me. I collapsed to my knees and kissed her urgently. Trembling as I yielded to the probing of her tongue against mine. She took my hand and quickly led me over to a corner of the studio where the gym mats were kept. She quickly improvised a bed for me and lay me on my back. Her beauty was overwhelming. She knelt between my legs and looked down at me. Undoing the ribbons of my pointe shoes she removed each foot from their restraint and then peeled me from my tights. She was of course still attired in her ballet outfit and I felt deliciously exposed. A sort of plaything for my mistress. I outstretched my arms to bring her into my embrace so that I could have her weight against me. I opened my legs and she placed her thigh between them and started a delicious grinding against my exposed pussy. It was enough to start the unmistakeable tremor that always heralded an orgasm. My breathing was fractured and hoarse and so she eased the pressure between my legs and began again a slow wet descent of kisses from my neck to my breasts, from my breasts to my belly and then with painful slowness a long teasing rain of kisses that covered everything but my entrance which now felt as if it had opened in greed. She stopped just at the moment that I thought that I would feel her tongue take possession of me. She stripped herself of tights and leotard and drew me up into an embrace. Facing each other and locked in a probing kiss she drew my hand to her precious centre and with gentle pressure encouraged me to explore. Her wetness was extraordinary. I could never have imagined from my own explorations that another woman could feel so alien and yet so incredibly familiar. I slowly stroked her between her legs and she did the same with me. She then brought her fingers wet with my melt to her mouth and sucked each finger. She nodded at me as if to say taste as well. I did so and felt so debauched as I had my first taste of another woman. The taste of her made me reel. Her exquisite tang played upon my tongue but in that moment I felt as if I had stepped irrevocably from girl to woman. I clutched at her for another passionate kiss. She indulged me beautifully and then again began her descent. But this time with more urgency to the point that before I could gather my senses she had parted the lips of my sex and had insinuated her tongue deep within me. I came near to blacking out from an overload of sensation. Her tongue probed me and her fingers played lightly on the tender connection between arse and cunt. With little effort she glided a finger deep within me as her lips sucked at my clitoris. I was so open to her that every part of me wanted to be taken by her. With her extraordinary kisses and ministrations of her tongue I slowly became aware of a new sensation fighting with the others. She had started to massage my anus and before any embarrassment could grow from this new assault of intimacy she had managed to insert her little finger deep within my rectum. Her tongue against my bud her fingers deep within my arse and cunt, I could only shout yes, yes , yes. Again at the threshold she stopped and withdrew her lips and fingers. Having been so filled by her and now to feel the slick emptiness forced from me a whimper. She smiled at me devilishly and rotated across my body in a voluptuously feline manner to enable me to feast on her as she supped on me. Any shyness that I may have felt in being confronted with another woman's sex had long evaporated under her attentions. I had what felt like a physical need, a thirst for her cunt. Her thighs around my head and my thighs parted to recieve her. We ate each other with such tenderness and strength. I could feel a finger deep inside me as she lapped at me. Another overwhelming sensation as I felt her finger hooked against the belly wall of my cunt or my g spot as she later taught me.. This sensation was outrageous. So much so that I could not eat her as I wished but had to concentrate all my reserves on this new and overpowering force that was building deep within me. Her finger wet with my secretion probed my anus and then again she expertly speared me. I could feel the advent of an orgasm building but also the sensation that if I yielded then I might wet myself. I buried my face against her cunt hoping that her delicious aroma and taste might prevent me from releasing what I thought would be a shower. This change in my demeanour alerted her and she simply murmured 'Let go baby, let go, give over to it completely' Again from this little trough of embarrassment she excited me quickly to a peak. Her finger hard against the wall of my cunt, her lips expertly passing my swollen clitoris across their softness and the hard angular ache of her finger deep within my anus, her taste against my tongue, the juices of her sex dampening my cheeks all conspired to bring me to the thrilling edge where in an instant wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me as I felt a jet shoot from deep within my cunt. My mistress lapped at me moaning. Emboldened I insinuated two fingers deep within her in much the same way that she had so excited me. She whispered yes... I began rapid strokes lifting my head enough to lick and tease her bud. She squirmed in delight from this increasing tension. I could feel a wave of subtle contractions around my embedded fingers and then all of a sudden she released a scream of pleasure as a jet from deep within her splashed magically against my face. This shock was enough to deliver me another but more subtle climax. We lay for awhile silent in our 69 position. I could do little but take great breaths of her delicious aroma. Her savour nursed me to a profound tranquility. She then turned around and lay beside me hugging me close to her. I felt overwhelmed. The tenderness of her embrace, the moisture of her kisses, the penetrating strangeness of our lovemaking had overwhelmed me. I was racked with sobs of tears. She looked pained. 'What is it?' Through my tears I began to giggle. 'Nothing, nothing at all. I'm just too full.' There was not a trace of sadness in my tears nor were they a sign of an excess of sentiment. It was simply that I had been physically overwhelmed and exalted and these tears were nothing more than the receding aftershock of my pleasure. She turned me to her and kissed me passionately. I had never felt such consuming warmth. Romeo and Juliet At the small New England college where I was an English professor for many years, all of the professors were required to coach one extracurricular activity. The one I chose was Drama, since I loved the theatre, enjoyed directing plays, and found that I was pretty good at it. We generally did four plays a school year, or two a semester: one a Shakespeare, one a classic, such as something by Ibsen or Arthur Miller, one a comedy or farce, and one a musical. I had a great deal of success with our production of "Othello" and have already written about my "enjoyment" of the lovely young blonde student who played the part of Desdemona. So this year, I decided to do "Romeo and Juliet." I thought it naturally would be popular with the students, and who knows, I might get to enjoy the favors of another beautiful student. About 30 students appeared for the auditions. Twenty of them were girls, as expected, and ten of them were boys, just enough. My requirements were basically three: In addition to being potentially good actors, they had to be dark-haired, since the originals of the story were from Verona, Italy, and Romeo and Juliet had to be very youthful-looking, since the originals had been 16 and 14. I finally settled on two freshmen for the roles of Romeo and Juliet: Damon, a curly-haired young man who was on the debating team, and Keisha, who had long dark brown hair that hung nearly to her waist. She also had a beautiful slender figure and a sweet innocent smile. I asked both of them to come to my office individually so I could talk to them about their parts. But the one I really wanted to talk to was Keisha. As a freshman, she had just turned 18 but looked more like 16 or even 15. "Have you ever seen the movie version of 'Romeo and Juliet?'" I asked her. "No." "You should see it. The director, Franco Zeferelli, wanted to make the movie sexier and more appealing than the stage play, so he took the second half of the famous balcony scene and put it in Juliet's chamber the next morning. Juliet and Romeo are seen, apparently naked under the covers, in her bed and obviously have spent the night together. After embracing and kissing and caressing Juliet's breast, Romeo walks naked to the window with his back to the audience to look at the sunrise, but Juliet merely sits up in the bed. So she is seen half naked. Do you think you would be able to do that?" I asked. "I don't know," she replied softly. "I acted in plays at high school, but there was never a nude scene." "But this is college, and you're a young woman now." "I know. And since my parents live in Idaho, they won't be coming to the production, so I don't have to worry about that. But can you tell me more about the nude scene and how it would work? I don't want to be walking around backstage naked." "Better than that, I'll show you. Why don't you meet me at the theater after school today around three p.m. No one else will be there, so I'll run through the scene with you, show you how it will work, and you can decide yourself if you can do it." "Okay. I really DO want the part." "I know. You would be perfect as Juliet." One of the things I had learned about the college administration was that even though they frowned on it, they knew that some of the professors would seduce and sleep with their students. But as long as there were no complaints about it from the students or their parents, the administration turned a blind eye to it. So I was free to run the drama department as I saw fit—and I did. I had unlocked the door to the theatre/auditorium, which was a separate building on the campus, and arranged the stage in a facsimile of Juliet's chamber, with the narrow bed in the foreground and the window Romeo would look through in the background. I didn't know how far Keisha would be willing to go in this scene, but I would soon learn. She arrived right on time, wearing the usual college garb of jeans and a gray sweatshirt with the name of the college on it. She looked a little uneasy and nervous. "Relax," I said, "There's no one here but you and me, and if you decide not to do it, that will be that." "But I WANT to do it." "Okay, this is an approximation of the bed. The stage will be dark between scenes, so you and Romeo, both wearing bathrobes, can come out here in the dark, take off the bathrobes and stuff them under the bed. Then you can get in the bed, pull the coverlet up, and the lights will fade on. But they will be dim since this is early morning. You will be face up on the side of the bed closest to the audience with the coverlet pulled up, and Romeo will be on this side facing you, with the covers to his waist. You can lie down now if you want to see what it will feel like." "I don't know what it will REALLY feel like unless I'm naked." "You want to try it that way?" "Yes, I might as well find out if I can do it." "Okay. Let me close the curtain first." I went to the side of the stage and pulled the ropes that closed the red velvet curtain, leaving only the stage lights for illumination. "I'll turn my back while you take your clothes off and get under the coverlet. Let me know when you're ready." "Okay." I began to think this was going to be more fun than I had first imagined. "I'm ready," she said after about five minutes. I turned and saw that she was lying face up on the bed with the coverlet pulled up to her chin. Her clothes were piled neatly on the side of the bed away from the audience. "Now, you will have to pretend for the time being that I am Romeo, which will really test your acting skills since I'm old enough to be your daddy." I lifted the edge of the coverlet and for a moment had a nice view of her lovely skin—and also saw that she was wearing white cotton panties. I got in the bed beside her. "Romeo will lean over and kiss you," I said, "But I will spare you that indignity from me. Then he will gently push the coverlet down to your waist, and I think you should see what that feels like." So I gently pushed the coverlet down, exposing her small but lovely breasts with their quarter-sized maroon nipples. "You have lovely breasts," I said. "Thank you," she murmured. "But what is this?" I snapped the waistband of her panties. "My underpants. I wanted to keep something on." "You can't be in a fourteenth century story with twenty-first century underpants," I said. "It would not feel right. Take them off." "All right." She pushed them down under the coverlet and handed them to me. I leaned over and dropped them on the rest of her clothes. "But this doesn't seem right with you wearing clothes," she said. "Romeo won't be wearing any clothes, and that's what scares me." "So what do you want me to do?" "Would you be willing to take off your clothes—so I could see what it's like?" God, this was going to be better than I thought. "Well, I guess I could do that," I said reluctantly. "Turn the other way." She did so, and I took off all my clothes, including underpants, and piled them on top of her clothes. Luckily, thanks to my daily workouts at the college gym and a lot of walking, I was in pretty good shape for a 52-year-old and did not have anything to be embarrassed about. I lifted the coverlet, enjoyed a nice view of her naked body, and got in beside her. "Is that better?" I asked. "I guess so." Now I could tell she was REALLY nervous. "We may try and get away with Romeo leaning over and kissing your breast...like this," I said as I leaned over and took her nipple in my mouth. She drew in a sharp breath. "And even though the audience won't see anything, it would be natural for Romeo to slip his hand under the coverlet and slide it down," I said, as I slowly did so. I knew this would be the crucial test. My hand reached the soft and silky nest of her pubic hair, and I slid my fingers into her hair. "Is that all right?" I asked softly. "Yes." In for a dime, in for a dollar, I thought. I withdrew my hand, licked my middle finger, put my hand back under the coverlet, and gently insert my finger inside her She drew in a sharp breath. "Is that all right?" I asked, feeling her warm wetness. "Yes.... Juliet was a virgin, wasn't she?" "Yes." "Then my playing the role is type casting." "You're still a virgin?" "Yes, at the age of eighteen. And it's embarrassing. I come from a very religious family. In high school, I wasn't allowed to date anyone unless I had a chaperon. Some boys here at the college have asked me out, but I don't want to go with them because I don't want them to find out I'm a virgin." "I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do." "....There is something you could do. Juliet was not a virgin after that night with Romeo, was she?" "No. Why?" "Then that's what I want to happen to me. I don't want to be a virgin after this scene." "How do you propose to do that?" "You could take my virginity. I would give it to you for free. I don't want it anymore." My dream had come true. "And how do you suggest I do that—if I was willing to do that?" The reality was I was MORE than willing to do that. "You could do it here. Now. What better time? It's the right place, and no one else is around." "Have you really thought about this?" "Yes, I thought a LOT about it before coming here. I want to do it with someone who wouldn't brag about it around the campus. And I know you wouldn't." "Well, that's true enough." "So would you? Please?" I ask you, dear reader: What would you do? Right. And that's what I decided to do. Since it was on the stage of a theatre, I knew there was some risk involved. But as Casanova would have said: There is no sexual conquest without some risk. I knew ahead of time that the custodians had left for the day, so it was extremely unlikely that anyone would come in. It was worth the risk. "All right, then I guess we'd better prepare you." I pulled the coverlet down so that she was lying there completely naked, and I feasted my eyes on her lovely body. "God, you're beautiful," I said. "Thank you," she replied softly. "First of all, since you're naturally tight, we need to get you lubricated to make it easier for you. Normally that is done with a woman's own juices as she gets sexually aroused. So I'm going to try and get you sexually aroused by performing oral sex on you. Is that all right?" She nodded. I took her knees and spread her legs. Then I knelt between them. "And you have to do your part by trying to get aroused, all right?" She nodded again. Her maidenhair was short, only about an inch long, and since it was relatively new, it was merely a tuft at the top of her downy nether lips. I bent down and began licking those lips. When she began to softly moan, I pushed my tongue in between them, and she began to moan more audibly. Also, I began to sense that not all of the lubrication was my own. I enjoyed this action for about fifteen minutes, but finally I knelt up. "And now it's your turn to do the same for me," I said. I scooted up a little until my engorged penis was dangling over her lips. "I've never done this before," she said. "Then this is a good time to learn. Just kiss it, lick it, and then take as much as you can of it in you mouth and suck it." "All right." She took it in both hands, forgot about the kissing and licking, and took about half of it into her mouth. Then she began to choke. "Sorry," she said with a smile. "That's all right. Try again. Breathe through your nose." She tried again—and got it this time. "Swirl your tongue around it," I said. And she did. She was learning fast. It was all I could do to keep from exploding into her mouth, since she was sucking it as hard as she could. When I couldn't stand any more, I pulled it out. "Your time has arrived," I said. I lifted her narrow hips up about six inches to give me a better angle. "Try to brace yourself up like this," I said, and she did, digging her heels into the mattress so that her hips would remain raised. I pushed the head of my stiff member between her downy lips. Even with her being lubricated, it was not easy. She winced as I pushed it further in and closed her eyes. "It's easier for you if I do it quickly," I said. Feeling myself firmly embedded in her to the depth of about two inches, I grasped her shoulders and plunged myself all the way into her, all the way to the hilt. "AHHHHH!" she cried loudly. I was glad that I had closed the curtain. Finally, she opened her eyes. They were wet with tears, but she was smiling. "Thank you," she whispered. "Did it hurt?" "Yes, but I don't mind. I'm glad it's over." But it was not over as far as I was concerned. I slowly pulled my cock halfway out. She had not been kidding about this being her first time. My dick was red with her blood. I smiled back at her. Now that she had learned what cherry-popping was all about, it was time for her to learn what fucking was all about. I slid it back into her. And out. And back again. I continued fucking her for another ten minutes, with her softly moaning all the time. Finally, I came deep inside her. And I could have sworn that she had an orgasm as well; she seemed a lot wetter. Finally, I withdrew entirely. "I should have said something about this before, but you don't have to worry about getting pregnant," I said. "I had a vasectomy about ten years ago." "Thanks for telling me. I never thought about that." "Well, you ought to think about it if you're planning to do any more of this with someone else." "I will. Thanks." I looked down again. "I'm going to use the rest room," I said, "You can do the same if you like." "I will. But what are you going to do about this sheet?" She looked down at the red blotches. I smiled at her. "I think I'm going to have it framed. I'll call it 'Juliet's Flower'—and see if anyone guesses what that means." She laughed. "Thank you so much," she said. "Don't mention it." After all, I thought, anything for the student body. So to speak. -end-