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I still remember exactly the moment I first saw him. He stood on stage, his eyes closed, moving to the sounds of an old jazz song. His arms stretched above his head, and his body seemed to writhe into the music. I was immediately drawn to his presence, to the way he moved as if the music guided him from within. I was the choreographer of the piece, and he was the new dancer we had hired for the production. I knew I couldn’t have him, not that way, not in this situation. But I couldn’t help being attracted to him. Every time I saw him, I felt a throbbing in my lower belly, a wet heat spreading between my legs. I pressed my thighs together to suppress the desire, but it didn’t help.
His name was Alexander, and he was in his mid-thirties, with an athletic build and a face almost too perfect to be real. I, on the other hand, was in my late thirties, with a body shaped by years of dancing and a face I never considered particularly pretty. But when I looked at Alexander, I suddenly felt like a woman who was noticed, who was seen. It was a strange feeling I couldn’t quite place. I only knew I couldn’t ignore it. As rehearsals began, I found myself constantly near Alexander, watching him dance, feeling drawn to him. I knew it was wrong, that it was an affair that couldn’t end well. But I couldn’t help being attracted to him. In the changing rooms, when we undressed, I let my gaze glide over his body, over the hard contours of his chest, the defined abs visible under his shirt. I imagined what it would be like to feel those muscles under my hands, to have my mouth on his skin.
I started focusing on rehearsals to distract myself from the feelings rising inside me. But the more I concentrated on the choreography, the more I found myself near Alexander. We talked about the music, about the movements, and I felt drawn to him as if we were one and the same. It was a strange feeling I couldn’t quite place. I only knew I couldn’t ignore it. One evening, as rehearsals ended, Alexander asked if I wanted to have a glass of wine with him. I hesitated for a moment before nodding. We went to a nearby café, and as we talked, I felt drawn to him as if we were one and the same. It was a slow, sensual process that pulled me deeper into his eyes. He told me about his travels, his dances, and I felt my panties get wet as I stared at him. I imagined his hands touching me, his fingers entering me.
I knew it was wrong, that it was an affair that couldn’t end well. But I couldn’t help being attracted to him. When we left the café, Alexander offered to take me home. I nodded, and we walked through the streets of London until we stood in front of my townhouse. He looked at me, and I felt like I was drowning in his eyes. It was a moment that would change everything. He leaned in, and I felt his lips touch mine. It was a slow, sensual kiss that pulled me deeper into his arms. I knew it was wrong, that it was an affair that couldn’t end well. But I couldn’t help being attracted to him. His tongue slid into my mouth, and I felt my whole body burn. I grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs. When we entered my bedroom, I was already breathless. He pulled off my dress, and I stood naked before him, my tits heavy and my cunt wet and ready.
“I want you,” he whispered, and his hands ran over my tits, massaging them as he rubbed my nipples with his thumbs. I moaned loudly as he bent down and took a nipple into his mouth. His tongue circled it while I licked my lips. I felt my cunt get even wetter as he started sucking on me. “Touch me,” I panted, and his hand wandered between my legs. I felt his fingers stroke my labia before they entered me. “Oh, yes,” I screamed as he had two fingers inside me, stretching me, preparing me. I was so wet, so open, and I needed more.
He pulled his fingers out, and I watched him undo his belt, drop his pants. His cock jutted out, hard and long and thick, the tip glistening with my moisture. I swallowed as I saw him hold it in his hand. “Do you want it?” he asked, and I nodded, unable to speak. He laid me on the bed, spread my legs, and settled between my thighs. I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance, and I closed my eyes, ready for what was to come. He thrust slowly, and I felt him slide into me, deeper and deeper, until he was fully inside me. I felt my body adjust to him, my cunt gripping him as if we were meant for each other. “You feel so good,” he groaned, and I dug my nails into his back as he began to move inside me.
His thrusts grew faster, harder, and I felt my stomach tighten, the pleasure rising inside me. He leaned forward and kissed me, his tongue in my mouth as he fucked me. I felt myself approaching orgasm, my cunt clenching around his cock. “Come for me,” he whispered, and I exploded. I screamed his name as my body writhed beneath him, as waves of pleasure flowed through me. I felt him come too, felt him unload inside me, his hot fluid filling me. We lay there, sweaty and breathless, and I knew I would never get enough of him.
In the following weeks, we spent every free moment together. We danced, we ate, we drank, and we made love. It was an affair I had never planned, never wanted. But I couldn’t help being attracted to him. Every time we met, it ended in bed. He licked my cunt until I screamed, and I took his
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