Ballet Lessons


Mssr. Aubert was universally disliked by his students, but in an amicable kind of way. Having come from a traditional background, and knowing only the European way to be, the American girls found him uncaring and harsh; but he was growing older, beginning to grey, even, and so the girls sympathized with and respected him. His figure was slender and angular and he controlled every room he walked into while remaining mostly silent. His stone-cut Roman profile could not conceal a french glare or a serpent’s french tongue. A cold disposition came easily to him.

In his seriousness and professionalism, he had convinced everyone around him that he was that and that alone- without blood or warmth. He knew his pupils through his hands almost more than his eyes, knew their hips and collarbones, their thighs and buttocks and slender necks. But upon correcting her passe or arabesque, he was conscious not to make any blooming little college girl feel his humanity. And they didn’t.

At the same time- would he be a man if he had not, time to time, thought of the young flesh against the mirror? Or draped over the barre? Only one student truly lead Aubert to toe the line at which he could no longer leave these musings at home.

Elle was a fit girl- Aubert had no doubts. She had wide hips and a nice posterior, but he knew that these were tight, toned, and controlled. Even then, she had a softness about her body, a femininity that he had seen diminish in other pupils, that remained no matter how hard she worked. He knew this wasn’t the ideal for his line of work, but her grace was undeniable. Her face was pulled down in the middle, with an elegant, middle eastern expression. Her eyes turned down to her nose, her nose was sharply pointed to the earth as an arrow, and her smile made the shape of a V, like the bow of a ship.

She hardly spoke to Aubert, but when she did, she spoke pleasantly, looking up at him as a child might. Aubert was always on the hunt for little details of her life, glimpses of whatever went on- her little red car, the chachkis on her keychain, a glimpse of a young friend dropping her off at the studio. He felt that she had some money, probably roommates, probably some bottom ring job from which she wanted to climb. Perhaps şişli escort this was a projection of his own youth, but something repulsed him so slightly when he considered that dance was not her life or her future, but something on the side.

Aubert looked forward to Elle’s private lessons, but he could not shake the dread that they would culminate to something awful. Perhaps, he more feared that they would not. He hoped that she didn’t feel the want in his hands when he touched her, because for some reason, his whole body felt warmer in her company. She seemed oblivious, as he hoped she would stay. However, the inactivity, the irresolution, only allowed his obsession to grow. It did not help that it had been years since he had gone to bed with a woman. He’d begun to have dreams, over and over again, in which she’d let herself into his house, find him in his bed, and demand that he have her right there. And so he would, and as the two came close, he would dig his teeth into her neck and drink her blood. He’d wake up with his hair matted to his forehead and the feeling that all his blood was in one place.

It was a rough night before Elle’s next private lesson, and Aubert walked into the studio already hot all over, bothered, and dangerously hopeful. She spread a perfume in the air as she performed a fouette, in the center of the floor. He imagined her as a little doll in a music box.

“To the barre, please. Plie.” Eager to please, she glided almost as if in character to the bar and stood straight, tucking in her bottom. Lowering, lifting. Demi, stretch. Grand, stretch. Up and down. It was tradition in every company Aubert had worked in that the teacher would open a safety pin and patrol behind, shocking their dolls into formation. And so, Aubert brandished one of these from his pocket, plucked it open, and took close watch of her silhouette. The moment she dropped her bottom, he instinctively stuck the flesh of her thigh. Being so tense, he stuck the needle much deeper than he intended to, and she let out a yelp. Immediately, a red dot emerged on her tights.

“Desole! Desole, my dear, I did not mean to stick… so… deep.” As Elle rubbed the wound, wincing, the red dot grew. Aubert fell to his knees and put his face kağıthane escort right up to it.

“That’s okay, I-“

Before she could finish her sentence, Aubert latched onto her flesh as a leech, and pressed his tongue against the dot. She gasped but did not move or object as he tasted her blood, even sweeter than it had been in the dream. He absently dug his fingers into the meat of her thighs as he bruised the wound further with his teeth. “Ouch” she said softly, leaning against the barre. He let go with his mouth, but held her leg and pressed his forehead against it.

“I’m sorry.”

Hesitantly, and to Aubert’s surprise, Elle rested her hand on the top of his head. “Is something wrong, Monsieur?”

“Only that perhaps i’ve soiled my career just now.”

“You need something, don’t you.”

“I do.”

Elle bent at the waist to turn Aubert’s head up at the chin and guide him to stand. “What is it?”


Full of pity, Elle ran her hand along his jaw. “Poor old man.” She moved her thumb to his lips, which parted slightly before carefully taking it in, biting down lightly, suckling. “You’re starved, aren’t you.” She slid her thumb out of his bite and leaned back onto the barre. “It must get tiring. Touching us all day and never being touched.”

“I only think of you this way. I’m so- I’m so sorry, I-“

“Don’t be sorry.” She tilted her head back, exposing her neck, looking over her nose at Aubert. “I have wants, every girl in this class has wants.”

“You have wants… right now?”

She only blinked.

He carefully stepped into her, placing a hand on her waist. When she didn’t waiver, he wrapped his other arm around her. Just under her jaw, he latched on again, nursing a purpling bruise. She softly moaned and draped over him as he worked his way up to her ears, nibbling and sucking, stopping once to whisper: “I have to have you, and it has to be right now.”

She whispered, “Then do it.”

He slipped his hands down to grab her ass dug his nails into the meat of it. Elle responded by pressing her front against him. They delved into each other’s faces and grinded and grinded until the both of them were desperate and very close to melting into each taksim escort other. He slid down to her feet, and commanded she pull off her leotard.

And so, in one foul swoop, she did. Aubert was delighted to find that she wasn’t wearing underwear besides a rather flattering sports bra. She supported herself against the mirror as he sucked the flesh from her knee to her inner thigh, and reached one finger to press against her slit- dripping wet. He pushed her legs open from the knees and pressed his tongue into her. It was sweeter than her blood, delicious. He lapped up all of the nectar that he could before she began to shake, and it was then that he pulled down his pants and revealed a generous cock, adorned by dark pubic hairs, and he was sure, as hard as a diamond. A thread of precum dangled from the tip of it, which Elle caught on her fingers as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed his member against her pussy. The wetness was a shock, and it took everything in Aubert not to pull her to the ground and fuck her out of her mind. Instead, he took it in his own hand and pressed it against her entrance, teasing her, swirling around her clit with it, until she began to squirm.

“Please just fuck me.”

He pushed her up against the wall and lifted her to where she could almost sit completely supported by his pelvis (he’d developed and maintained an Olympian strength through his work) and slowly, gently, pushed himself into her.

“Ah! Oh- it hurts!”

“Oh, si serré, mon petit. Si serré. It will feel good soon. You’ve never had a man?”

“Not like you- I’ve never- nh- been so full.”

Aubert marveled at the young flesh, the prickly shaved mons pubis, the tightness of the skin, and the way she made enough wetness that it was already all over the two of them.

“Sale, n’est-ce pas, mon petit?”

He pumped hard into her, coming close. She seemed to pull her in, tightening and releasing, tightening and releasing. Up and down. His spine curled as he bit into the flesh of her shoulder and fucked her harder than either of them had expected him to. Elle very nearly screamed before managing: “Come inside me. Come inside me, please —”

And without a word, just barely breaking her skin with his bite, he released inside of her and rode out a shuttering orgasm.

He slowly lowered her as he removed his cock. She gasped as he rubbed his cum into her sore slit. He kissed her forehead gently and smiled.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I guess I’m a bit of a vampire.”

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