Constance Ann Knight

Gushing ballerinas

CHAPTER ONE

THE SENSUAL STRANGERS

The afternoon smelled of rain, and Judy walked swiftly, knowing the clouds could win out at any moment. A stiff breeze tossed the strands of her yellowish-blonde hair, and pressed the front of her blouse into a form hugging shroud that emphasized the taut nipples of her small breasts. Judy pushed the strands back with annoyance and crossed her arms under the bouncing boobs.

In the three years since her return to her small hometown in the wheat-belt of Central Canada to teach dance – tap, ballet, and ballroom – she had experienced some frustrating moments. But today, she decided, took the cake. It was more than the minor problems that arose at the studio. It had something more to do with the burning ache in her cunt that had been building for some relief for her steamy pussy, if it meant finger-fucking herself again.

She had began to think with her cunt instead of her head and with the recital tonight, that was something Judy couldn't afford. Her car wouldn't start so Judy decided to walk. Maybe the cool breeze whipping through her jeans would do something to cool her steaming pussy.

Nerves, she told herself. I'm just nervous about tonight. Every time I get nervous, my cunt starts to itching. The recital itself should go okay, she thought, stuffing her hands into her pockets. The girls were ready; the rehearsals had been perfect. It was the times just before and after the recitals that gave Judy time enough to think about how much she missed the fuckings she had grown accustomed to in the city. Her cunt would cream at the slightest hint of fucking. She could feel the nylon crotch panel of her panties working against her clitoris; they had worked into the slit of her cuntlips.

Judy knew if she even touched her pussy to take the panties from between the swollen lips, she would gush all over herself. It would not take much to send her into the spasms of orgasm. She felt as if she had to hurry home and get some relief for her itching cunt before tonight. Maybe in the tub full of warm water. That was always good for a terrific orgasm.

Judy realized that some of the parents would be dissatisfied with their children's parts. And still more would try to pressure her into accelerating the training. One woman had even offered to suck Judy's cunt, or have her husband fuck her if Judy would only give their kid a bigger part in the recital. The woman gave Judy the impression she knew her way around a juicy pussy. Her husband was a good-looker, too, but Judy would not go for it. Not for those reasons anyway; why didn't they approach me differently, she thought. I could go for some hard cock from the handsome man.

So often Judy's explanation on anatomy, growing bones, endurance, and timing met with only more arguments. Normally, she prided herself on being able to handle over zealous parents. After all, she mused, hadn't her mother been exactly the same? Hell, her mother had fucked and sucked half of the willing ballet choreographers in Montreal and Quebec while trying to get Judy a tryout. It was an old, old game.