The ballerina (erotica)

She danced all night and slept all day, her thighs were muscular, but with a streamlined athletic quality, her rock solid, strong quadriceps connected all the way down to her gastrocnemius, the lateral head and medical head individually exposed, taught and well defined, her tough muscle fibres were sinewy along a stretch of thin skin, it was a fabulous display, obviously built by her ballet and rigorous legs and calves work outs, but she also had a habit of walking on her tip toes around the house, as i leaf through my catalogued memory, her movement was deft and her alacrity was second to none, she seemed to manipulate gravity with the force of her body, light bended around her physique, graceful, brazen, although her temper was brusque, it didn't take much to spark her off into a whirlwind of fury, her demeanour could come across as callous and strict, heavily disciplined in art of movement and dance, but underneath she was shy and demure, and quite placid, it was a tough exterior that was needed to survive in such a industry,

It was one of them long sleepless nights, everything was drawn out, and hours were bloated corpses on the shores of my patience, I've suffered with bouts of insomnia for as long as I can remember, and often or not despite her commitments, she would try and stay awake with me, as I smoke myself through twenty cigarettes, the moon hung prone inside a web of stars, radiating a strong exposure of light through the window,
she was half asleep next to me, whilst I was puffing away under the warmth of a duvet, she slept naked, with the duvet half draped around her bottom half, lying on her front, with her hair sprawled in a magnificent spread of shimmering brunette, iridescent in the pale, but strong radiant moon light, the moon light half lit her face, exposing her strong features, the curve of her delicate but robust cheekbones, her jawline set angular, and strong, I always thought she was of of eastern European descent, but she avidly denied such accusations.

Her hair contained many different shades of light. tawny, burnt umber, chocolate, with an underneath shine of russet, all shimmering together in flowing locks of a thick head of hair,
her stomach was her most proud feature of her anatomy, every muscle ripped, but not to the point of being masculine, a six pack was slightly visible, and her oblique's, a row of neat muscles, symmetric and lean, often when she was painting her toes nails, and her back was arched with her arms stretched out to her feet, you could see all the muscles corresponding and working together, along with her dimple smile and peachy bum, someone might observe her sultry perfection, and that she was..

So in the spell of my not sleeping, she aroused out of her sleep, quickly glancing at her phone for the time, she rolled over and grabbed me by the wrist and rolled me over onto my side, she had the power of being dominate in the bedroom department, a power that she kindled and perfected with such sexual lust, that any man would wither in delight, she made me feel lazy when having sex, because she was so forceful and dominate, standing at 5'11 she was taller than me by half an inch, much to my friends amusement and mocking gestures, I put it down to jealousy, because even I hadn't the faintest idea how I captured such beauty, I wanted to bottle it up and saver it forever, beauty so precise and fragile, the slightest change of the wind could blow it away forever,

She was speaking in a slow whisper, a habit of hers in the early hours of the morning, which it now was, the sun was slowly creeping above the horizon, morning birds chirping, in a opera of dawns chorus, she hadn't work that day, so she didn't mind staying up with me, she leaned in for a kiss, those plump lips were cushions of velvet, 'Paris lips' I called them, it was a slow, prolonged kiss involving no tongues, for now at least... she hitched one powerful leg over my side and drew my in like her prey, I was caught, I was harnessed, captured, but not a victim,
she brushed her hair back, revealing her pretty, sultry face, and slowly, but surely, slid her herself on top of me, my manhood instantly standing to attention, she looked down (gesturing at the new arrival) then looked back up into my eyes, and smirked, a naughty 'cat got the cream' smirk, and I knew from that moment, as the kisses were becoming heavier and our breathing syncopated, hands locked together, hair dishevelled,  sweat evacuating pores, it was going to be a good morning....

To be continued