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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: ann.txt (FFM, rom, tights, 1st)
Authors name: Tightsplus (tightsplus@yahoo.com)
Story title : Ann

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2001.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Ann (FFM, rom, tights, 1st)
Tightsplus (tightsplus@yahoo.com)

***

Ann is a Chinese ballet dancer living in Paris. The 
story describes her relationships with men and women. 
Key words: Asian, ballet, tights 


This story is intended for adults only. While not overly 
graphic, it refers to things that anyone less than 21 
years old should not be reading. If you are turned off 
by ballet, Asian women or tights you should not read 
further. If you don't like Paris or France, please don't 
read this. 


*** Chapter 1 

Recovering from my accident took a long time. It was 
frustrating because I've always made a point of keeping 
fit and here I was barely able to move. I spent many 
hours with the physiotherapist. She seemed to take an 
almost sadistic pleasure in making me find the re-use of 
my body. But eventually my sessions with her were over. 
She only had some parting advice to give me, namely that 
I should enroll in a dance or stretching class to 
continue to improve my flexibility. She gave me the name 
of a school and wrote a note of introduction to its 
head. The school was very close to my office. Maybe, I 
would be able to attend a class on my way home from 
work. I decided I stop by the school the next day.

But maybe I should introduce myself first. I'm a 28-
year-old American man. At the time of my accident I was 
living by myself in Paris where I worked for an 
international bank. I had been sent to Paris soon after 
joining the bank a couple of years ago. I was very 
ambitious and worked long hours but still managed to 
learn some French and enjoy the city. I met many 
attractive women but so far had avoided any serious 
entanglements. Little did I know how soon that was going 
to change when I stopped by the dance school the next 
day. 

The school was located in a 17th century building. There 
was a passageway that led to a central courtyard. Around 
the courtyard on three floors were various dance studios 
and there was quite a clash of competing music: 
Classical, Jazz, African, Funk.... The windows of the 
dance studios were steamy with the perspiration of the 
dancers so it was hard to make out what was going on, 
but as I stood in the middle of the courtyard and looked 
up and around I could see fleeting silhouettes of the 
dancers as they floated past the windows. In my dark 
business suit, standing in the middle of the courtyard, 
I felt a little out of place to say the least. 

Nevertheless, I made my way to what appeared to be the 
school office on the ground floor, opened the door and 
entered. An attractive middle-aged woman was behind the 
desk talking on the phone. She waved, signaling me to 
wait a moment. When she got off the hone, I handed her 
the note, which she read. She commented in a low voice 
to herself: "a bit unusual perhaps, but why not". She 
surveyed me appraisingly and then said: "I think you'll 
do fine in Ann's class. It is on the third floor. Take 
the stairs on the other side of the courtyard. You'll 
find Ann up there." 

When I reached the third floor, I saw there was just one 
door leading off the landing. It was half open, and I 
poked my head inside. The room was quite small and, 
judging from the hooks and the benches around the walls 
was obviously some kind of changing room. There was just 
one person in the room, a young Asian woman dressed in 
pink tights and a pink leotard. 

I immediately felt very ill at ease; on the one hand 
knowing I should beat a retreat from my intrusion and on 
the other hand feeling completing catatonic in the 
presence of this most beautiful young woman. I stammered 
incoherently that I was a sorry to disturb her, and felt 
myself going red in the face, but she interrupted me and 
asked me if I was looking for something. When I told her 
I was looking for Ann, she said: "I'm Ann. Can I help 
you?"

My embarrassment increased but I managed to say that I 
was to be enrolled in her class and explained the 
circumstances of my accident. 

"Well" she said "I don't have any other men in my class 
but you are welcome to try it out. Do you have your 
outfit with you?" 

I explained that I had just stopped by on my way home 
from work and anyway I had no idea what I should wear. 

"My class begins in 15 minutes, if you want to join it I 
can lend you some things." She then pulled some things 
out of a bag which was next to her on one of the benches 
and handed me first what looked like some black tights 
and a long black cotton outfit. "Put the tights on 
underneath and the unitard on top."

I was torn between embarrassment and curiosity. When the 
physiotherapist had told me to enroll in a dance class, 
little did I imagine that I would have to wear tights! 

My next source of embarrassment was that there was 
clearly only one changing room and Ann was busy working 
on some notes and preparing some music tapes and didn't 
seem like she was going to leave anytime soon. "Do I 
change here?" I asked. 

"Yes, go right ahead. Don't mind me." 

I took off my shoes and socks, my suit and, in the 
interests of modesty left my shirt on as I struggled to 
pull on the tights. At this point Ann looked up and 
said: "you really need to take off your underwear, 
otherwise it will show and not look good." 

Blushing again, I removed my underwear and sitting on 
the bench put on the tights. I soon realized that they 
instead of proper feet they had a kind of stirrup under 
the foot. To get the tights on properly I had to stand 
up and pull them up around my waist. There was something 
about they way they felt, gripping me in their tight 
embrace that would have felt incredibly arousing if it 
were not for my embarrassment in front of Ann. 

Quickly I pulled on the unitard, first the legs, then 
after taking off my shirt, pulling the top over my 
shoulders. The top was cut like a tank top, and glancing 
at myself in a mirror, I realized that it suited me very 
well. My strong shoulders and arms stood out nicely and 
the black length of the unitard accentuated my narrow 
stomach and well proportioned legs. 

There was of course a certain bulge between my legs but 
it was kept well contained by the combination of the 
tights and unitard. I regained some of my poise and 
confidence. And only just in time because some of the 
other students started coming into the changing room. 

If any of the women and teenage girls were surprised to 
see a man in the changing room, they didn't show it. 
They seemed to be either coming from school or from work 
and I soon realized that most of them already had their 
tights on under their jeans or skirts. Some even were 
already wearing leotards too. But some quite casually 
took off their tops and bras and standing momentarily 
only in their tights before pulling on leotards or 
unitards, seemed quite nonchalant about their nakedness. 

Of course this was France and if women seemed 
comfortable being topless on the beaches, why not in the 
changing room of a dance studio? Ann led us into the 
dance studio, which was just beyond the changing room. 
Mirrors were on three walls and windows along the 
fourth. Wooden bars ran along all four walls. Ann 
directed us to take positions along the walls and as she 
did so welcomed to the class: "We are pleased to have a 
new student with us today. He is recovering from an 
accident and is taking our class to improve his 
flexibility and regain his mobility." And turning to me 
she said: "don't worry if you can't follow all the 
movements". 

Slowly Ann warmed the class up doing exercises at the 
bare. I was soon struggling, especially when with one 
foot up on the bar we had to stretch forward and reach 
beyond our toes. Ann helped me with my position and 
gently pushed me forward with one hand on my back and 
one steadying my leg. I loved the feeling of her hands 
on my leg, the gentle pressure on my back, and the sweet 
smell of her breath as she whispered words of 
encouragement in my ear. 

As the class progressed my mind wondered and I began 
daydreaming. As I watched Ann going from student to 
student I noticed how gracefully she moved and how 
perfectly shaped her body was. Her body was firm without 
being too thin and her leotard showed off the perfection 
of her breasts and rear. Her legs were long and I loved 
the way the seam of her tights disappeared under her 
leotard.

I fantasized tracing that seam with my fingers. Her hair 
was jet black and long and her intelligent eyes were 
shaped like almonds. She had high check-bones. But her 
most attractive feature of all was a beautiful smile 
that was both serene and warm. Under any other 
circumstances I'm sure that I would be having a raging 
erection, especially as my tights felt so wonderful, but 
somehow I was too much in awe of Ann's beauty to feel 
mere animal lust. When Ann dismissed the class at the 
end of the hour she asked me to stay behind. 

In answer to her question, I told her that I wanted to 
continue her classes. She seemed happy with my answer 
and told me I should keep the tights and unitard for the 
next day. I could return them after I'd had a chance to 
buy some of my own. She also advised to do as the other 
students: I could take the unitard off but put my suit 
on over the tights. 

That would help keep my muscles warm on my way home and 
keep me from getting stiff. It felt really strange to be 
putting on a conservative business suit over the tights. 
I changed in the same room as everybody else, including 
Ann. She followed her own advice. She put on a pair of 
jeans over her pink tights. And a very sexy turtleneck 
sweater over her leotard. As I looked at her, I felt a 
strong, an overwhelming desire. When I got home, I took 
off all my clothes except the back tights and lying on 
my bed stroked myself as I fantasized about Ann. 


*** Chapter 2


I didn't realize that I was attracted to the good-
looking American man until a few days later after he 
joined my class. It was the Thursday evening class and 
he didn't show up. It was only then that I admitted to 
myself how much I had been looking forward to seeing 
him. But to understand my feelings you first need to 
know something about me. 

I was born in Paris 21 years ago of Chinese parents who 
had moved to France from Vietnam before I was born. We 
lived in the area around the Place d'Italie that is home 
to many of Paris' Southeast Asian residents. My parents 
put a great emphasis on education. I worked hard at 
school and was admitted to one of the top Lycees when I 
turned 12. At the Lycee, I also did well and was one of 
the top students but my circle of friends was limited. 

I was too studious and my parents, being very 
conservative, did not allow me to participate in the 
activities which would have made me a more popular girl, 
like smoking, hanging out at cafes and sneaking into 
discos. My only extra-curricular activity was ballet. I 
took lessons every day after school and on Saturday too. 
I was naturally graceful and I had an attractive figure 
with long legs and well formed feet. 

I loved ballet because while dancing I could be whatever 
I imagined my self to be. My favorite fantasy was that I 
lived in a far-off time and was the beautiful princess 
who saved the kingdom by seducing the barbarian invaders 
by the beauty of my dance.... 

Even if not as popular as I would like to be, I was 
happy at the Lycee. Happy that is until I turned 16 and 
fell in love with one of the boys in the senior class. 
Rene was a couple of years older than me and was the 
leader of a group of boys who were the despair of their 
teachers and no doubt of their parents. They were the 
worst of students and had the worst reputations. But 
their parents were well connected and the school 
couldn't very well throw them out. 

Rene always wore tight jeans and a leather jacket. He 
slicked his dark hair back and made a terrific noise as 
he roared his motorbike through the narrow streets of 
Paris. He exuded a strong sexuality, which was 
attractive to the girls at the Lycee, and more than one 
were reputed to have lost their virginity in bed with 
him. He was exactly the type of boy that my parents 
hated. He was the boy that I fell for. 

For a long time, I loved Rene from a distance. I dreamt 
of him and ached for him day and night but in reality 
had hardly exchanged more than a couple of brief 
"bonjours" with him. Until one day as I was leaving my 
dance class and rushing to take the metro home I saw him 
sitting by himself at an outdoors table of the cafe near 
the dance center. He saw me too, and for once I felt 
that he really looked at me, I mean, took me in. We 
exchanged some words and he asked me to join him for a 
drink. I had an "express" and he finished his beer. When 
he had paid, he pointed to his motorcycle and said: "hop 
on the back, I'll give you a ride home."

I told him where I lived. He told me to hang on tight 
and we were off. I put my arms around him and rested one 
check against his back. I felt the vibration of the bike 
on the inside of my thighs and on my rear. I squeezed 
tighter with both arms and legs and enjoyed the feel of 
Rene's leather jacket as I rested my check on it. We 
took a bridge to the Ile Saint Louis in the middle of 
the Seine, and again across the river to the Left Bank 
and the Latin Quarter. On my right I caught sight of 
Notre Dame Cathedral on the Ile de la Cite. The wind 
blew my streaming long black hair behind me. I felt my 
nipples grow erect from the cool wind or by their 
pressing against Rene's back I'm not sure which. 

When we reached my street off the Place d'Italie, Rene 
parked his bike and walked me to the entrance of our 
building. Much to my embarrassment (because of my fear 
of being recognized by the Chinese residents who lived 
in the area), but also to my great pleasure, Rene titled 
my head back and gave me a long kiss on the lips. His 
tongue eased my lips open and one hand pinched first one 
then the other erect nipple that was straining against 
the fabric of my leotard. He pressed himself against me 
and I felt his erection. We kissed again, and then I 
broke from his embrace and rushed into our building. 

Only my mother was at home, and I quickly made to my 
room to change. I just hoped that my flushed face had 
not made my mother suspicious. When I striped off my 
pink tights, I noticed that the cotton gusset was moist 
from my arousal. I drew a finger over the stickiness and 
tasted it with my tongue. I felt a certain satisfaction 
and pride in this sign of my emerging womanhood. That 
night I had vivid intense erotic dreams. 

The next day at school Rene and I saw each other and we 
arranged to spend the next Saturday afternoon together. 
(I knew I could use as an excuse for my parents an extra 
rehearsal at the dance school.) Right after lunch on 
Saturday, I headed to the metro station but instead of 
taking it to Right Bank where my dance school was, I 
changed metros and ended up in the posh 7th arrondisment 
on the Left Bank. 

We met on the Rue St Dominque and, after a long deep 
kiss, Rene led me quickly by the hand into his family's 
vast apartment with its view of the Champ de Mars and 
the Eiffel Tower. His family was out - in fact I was to 
find out that they were usually away on weekends at 
their country estate in Normandy. We had the place to 
ourselves. Rene showed me around and we ended up in his 
bedroom.

We kissed again passionately. I lifted my arms over my 
head, and Rene eased off my sweater. He moved his hands 
to feel my breasts through my leotard. I closed my eyes 
and bit my lips to keep from moaning with pleasure. Rene 
kissed my eyes, my neck, my lips. One hand slid down to 
my jeans and unbuttoned them. I kicked off my shoes, as 
Rene pulled my jeans down over my hips. I stepped free 
of my jeans and Rene eased my leotard over my shoulders 
and I stepped free of it too. 

As usual I was not wearing a bra under my leotard, and 
as my breasts became free, Rene quickly covered them 
with his hands. I pressed myself against him and he 
moved a leg between mine. Again I felt his strong 
erection through his jeans. He pushed me gently onto my 
back on his bed and lifting my legs spread them apart. 
As I was not wearing panties under my pink ballet 
tights, he had a good view through the nylon gauze of my 
most private parts. I felt all his. He put his nose down 
there and sniffed me and gently rubbed his nose against 
the nylon and then started using his tongue to prod me 
gently. 

Without his having to ask, I raised my hips and pressed 
back with each prod of his tongue. He slid my tights 
off, and I was now totally naked before him. His tongue 
returned to its work and soon I was grasping and moaning 
under his ministrations. I reached out with one hand and 
grabbed his erection. He quickly took off all his 
clothes and I gasped in admiration of his proud manhood. 
He pulled my head towards it and told me to kiss it, 
tongue it and then take it in my mouth. Pushing me back 
onto my back, he eased himself into me.

As my hymen ruptured, I felt a momentary pain and then 
with his thrusting into me, pleasure took over and was 
rewarded when I felt Rene flood me with his cum. 

That afternoon we made love two more times, including 
one time when he brought be to orgasm with his tongue 
working my clitoris as I was sucking him. He shot his 
stuff into my mouth just after I came. The third time he 
took me from behind and as he pumped me he reached in 
front of me with one hand and put a finger over my 
clitoris. I rubbed my self against his finger and came 
again while once again he flooded me with his cum. 

Exhausted I lay back naked on the bed and we both slept 
for a while. When I woke, I found myself alone in Rene's 
room. I found my pink tights and pulled them on. I stood 
up and was hunting around for the rest of my clothes, 
when there was a flash and I realized that Rene had 
snapped a picture of me. Shocked, I turned around and 
faced him and he quickly snapped another picture of me 
wearing nothing but tights. I giggled and threw myself 
into his arms.

You may ask why I share all these intimate details with 
you. It is because I want you to understand how totally 
his I was. He could make me do anything for his 
pleasure, and indeed, mine. Little did I realize just 
then, just how far this could lead. 


*** Chapter 3 


The next two weeks were a frenzy of sexual craving and 
fulfillment. I was constantly being satisfied, but 
constantly craving more. Everyday after ballet, Rene 
picked me up on his motorbike. As he raced his motorbike 
to his apartment, I hugged him from behind, and would 
play games like reaching for him and fondling him until 
I could feel his hardness rise up and strain against his 
jeans. This would incite him to roar all that much 
faster through the narrow streets to his apartment. 

Usually only the maid would be present. We would move 
directly to his room. I would do a little striptease for 
Rene as I shed my ballet outfit. Sometimes, Rene would 
shoot a few pictures using his digital camera. He told 
me he looked at them on his computer every morning 
before school and every night before sleeping. Once 
before I had time to strip off my tights, he slipped a 
hand inside them. 

I did a slow a plie. As I bent my knees, I opened up; 
and as I lowered myself onto Rene's hand, a finger 
slipped inside me. Another time, I had leg warmers with 
me. After I had stripped, Rene helped me pull them onto 
my naked legs and as he adjusted them, he allowed the 
back of his hand to brush against my pussy. I sat on the 
edge of the bed and pulled his head to me and between my 
legs. My legs, in their woolen warmers, were like a vice 
that wouldn't let go until he had satisfied me with his 
tongue.

Only when I arched my back in my orgasm did I allow him 
up. As he kissed my mouth, I remember tasting my self on 
his lips and tongue. 

On the first Saturday after we started our affair, I 
told my mother I'd be staying with one of my girlfriends 
overnight. In fact, I met Rene at a cafe and from there 
we went to his apartment. After we had made love, I 
changed into a short black dress that I wore over black 
tights. I had bought the dress earlier that day from a 
small boutique near Les Halles with some money I had 
saved up. 

The dress was made out of a tight fitting Lycra 
material, so I did not need to wear a bra. But my 
breasts were beautifully held and shaped by the dress. 
I'm a naturally modest person but when I looked at 
myself in the mirror I couldn't help but notice how 
attractive and sexy I looked. The dress only went about 
a third way down my thighs and my legs looked great in 
the black tights.

That evening we went out to dinner. Rene seemed pleased 
to show me off. We got a lot of stares from both men and 
women. It was the first time I had been taken to a 
restaurant by a boyfriend. It was an old Brasserie 
across the river between the Marais and the Bastille. 
After dinner we went to a crowded bar in the Marais. 

The bar was in the basement of an old building. There 
were a couple of rooms. In one of them was the bar 
itself, in the other there was music and people were 
dancing. It was so crowded and noisy. Rene and I 
squeezed into the room where people were dancing. 
Everybody was tightly packed together. It was a slow 
music. Rene put his arms around me and we danced in a 
tight embrace. I buried my face into his shoulder and 
held him around his waist. I felt him put both hands on 
my butt and draw me close to him. 

My parents would have been shocked to see me there with 
Rene, but I felt I was in heaven. There I was, 16 years 
old, taken out at night for the first time, by a man 
whom I thought I loved passionately, and who stimulated 
and satisfied such intense sexual feelings. We kissed as 
we danced and I could feel Rene's manhood stirring just 
as I felt myself getting moist with anticipation.

All of a sudden, I became aware of a pair of eyes 
staring at me. Looking up, I saw a young man staring at 
us. Our eyes met and he smiled. He squeezed through the 
crowd and putting a hand on Rene's shoulder said: 
"Salut, Rene, c'est qui ta copine?" Rene introduced us. 
His name was Marc. He was very good-looking in a male-
model sort of way. He had a strong jaw line, a handsome 
face and a thin graceful body. 

Rene nodded at Marc's raised eyebrow, and I found myself 
in his arms dancing to the slow music. I rested my head 
on Marc's shoulder and as I glanced at Rene, he smiled 
his encouragement. I closed my eyes and took in the 
differences between Rene's and Marc's bodies. Rene was 
stronger, Marc more graceful. Marc was a little taller 
and with my arms around my hands rested on his butt. 
Keeping my eyes closed, I savored Marc's smell. 

When I opened my eyes again, Rene was still there 
smiling. I closed my eyes again. Marc moved a leg 
between mine. I gasped when I felt his strong erection. 
My thoughts became very confused. There was Rene, the 
man I loved, smiling at me, while I danced with his 
friend in a close embrace and felt his friend's 
unmistaken desire for me. I felt a little guilt, but 
even more I felt a certain pride and pleasure in being 
part of Rene's world where handsome men wanted to dance 
with me and were obviously attracted to me. 

It was past mid-night when we emerged from the bar. 
There were still plenty of people wandering the streets 
of the Marais. The stone of the buildings gave a soft 
warm feeling to the light that bounced off their surface 
from the lamps. I gave one arm to Rene and one to Marc. 
We walked to Marc's apartment on the Rue des Francs-
Bourgeois. 

It was in a 17th century Hotel de Ville. There were 
waxed hexagonal tiles on the floor and old oak beams 
supporting the ceiling. Rene and I settled onto a couch 
while Marc got us some drinks. Marc sat facing us. We 
talked for a while, but I was getting sleepy so I put my 
head on Rene's lap and, kicking my shoes off, put my 
feet up on the couch. As I did so, Marc moved over to 
our couch and sat so my feet were on his lap.

I closed my eyes and listened to Marc and Rene talk. I 
didn't pay attention to what they were saying but 
enjoyed listening to their voices. Marc began rubbing my 
feet and Rene stroked my face with one hand. His other 
hand rested on my shoulders. Marc lifted on of my feet 
and kissed it. He said to Rene: "her feet smell so 
good". Putting my foot down, he began to massage my 
calves. Meanwhile, Rene leaned forward and kissed me 
slowly on the lips. As he did so, Marc moved his hands 
to my thighs. "Elle est superbe", I heard him say, 
"quelles cuisses!" 

I opened my eyes. Rene smiled at me and asked: "tu aimes 
Marc?" I nodded yes and closed my eyes. When Marc 
touched the crotch of my tights, I was already moist. I 
was too aroused to feel embarrassed about not wearing 
panties. When Marc spread my legs, putting on leg over 
the back of the coach and the other on the floor, the 
lips of my pussy opened and were plastered against my 
moist tights. His fingers pressed against me and when he 
touched my clitoris I pushed up to meet him. "Elle est 
toute mouillee" he said to Rene. Rene meanwhile had both 
hands on my breasts and was feeling my nipples through 
my dress. They were nicely erect. 

When at last we moved to Marc's bedroom, Marc and Rene 
eased my dress over my shoulders, I stood before them in 
my black tights. Marc reached for my breasts and rolled 
my nipples between his thumb and fingers. Rene gently 
spanked my butt and then passed a hand between my legs 
and felt my moisture. At Rene's urging, I helped Marc 
out of his clothes, while Rene took off his own. Marc's 
manhood stood at full attention. I reached for it and 
when I saw Rene nod his head I took it my mouth. 

While I had Marc in my mouth, Rene lowered my tights and 
tongued me. Just as I felt myself reach orgasm, Rene 
took Marc's place. While I sucked Rene, Marc inserted 
himself inside me from behind. Marc's pumping soon had 
me on the verge of orgasm and as I came, Marc flooded me 
with his cum. Rene soon followed. As I felt him about to 
come, I stopped sucking him and put hands on his shaft. 
I could feel the cum emerge from his cock as it shot out 
and covered my face.

We collapsed on the bed and I slept between Marc and 
Rene. We slept for no more than an hour before I felt 
Marc stir and get hard and then Rene. When at last 
Sunday morning's light came through the window we had 
made love three times.


*** Chapter 4


The American continues the story...

When I got to know Ann better, she told me about Marc 
and Rene. To be honest I was shocked that such a pure, 
polite and beautiful 16 year old girl could become so 
enamored by a boy that she would let not only him but 
one of his friends make love to her. And I was even more 
shocked and angry when Ann told me the sequel to the 
events described above.

Ann had arranged to meet Rene at his apartment the 
following weekend. When she arrived, the maid met her 
and informed her that Rene had stepped out and was not 
yet back. No one was at home just now, but of course she 
was welcome to stay until Rene returned. After poking 
around the living room a little, Ann decided to wait in 
Rene's room. 

She noticed that Rene had left his computer on. The 
screen saver was active. She was curious to see what he 
had been working on. Expecting something to do with 
homework. Imagine her shock, as she touched the mouse, 
on seeing a picture of a nude woman. Her first reaction 
was of disbelief. But as she moved back and forth 
through various screens, she realized she was in a group 
site where members posted and shared pictures and 
stories of naked women. 

She soon got to a page with a list of messages. As she 
glanced down it, she was stunned to see that the title 
of one of the messages was "Ann La Chinoise". Ann opened 
the message. It was written by Rene and had two pictures 
of her: one of her naked, it must of been that first 
time she was with Rene, and one of her sucking Marc. 
Rene must have taken it the preceding weekend. 

Ann was so angry that she smashed the screen of the 
notebook computer with her fists and ran out of the 
apartment. As her anger subsided, she was overcome with 
shame. To think that photos of her nude were being 
circulated on the internet. And the worst of it was, she 
had no idea of whom might have seen them, or would be 
seeing them. And if someone were to pass them on to her 
family?

The following week, Ann did not have to feign sickness 
to avoid showing her face at school. She was truly made 
ill by the shock. When eventually she did venture back 
to school, she creped in at the last moment, avoided 
looking at anyone in the eye, and was one of the first 
to leave. 

As for Rene, she severed all contact with him. The last 
she heard of him (and that was a couple of years after 
the events described above) was when a corruption 
scandal hit the newspapers involving his father. It 
turned out that their fancy apartment belonged to the 
city of Paris and was leant to them in return for 
financial favors. Like father, like son, she thought.

Ann slowly recovered. Her anger transformed into a grim 
determination not to ever again be at the mercy of a 
man. In any case, men had no attraction to her. She 
found herself working every woken hour either on her 
school work or on her an dance. When she finally 
graduated from the Lycee, it was at the top of her 
class. As for dance, Ann found the world of ballet to be 
an environment where she could forget all about the 
outside world and her sad adventure with men. Her 
sexuality, buried somewhere deep inside her, expressed 
itself through the physical exercise of dance. The dance 
center was essentially a feminine environment. Ann felt 
totally comfortable and secure in it. 

Perhaps you wonder if Ann, renouncing men, might not 
have been attracted to some other women at her dance 
center. In fact, she was attracted to several of them, 
and one in particular. She was one of Ann's teachers (I 
found out later she was the middle-aged woman who had 
met me the first time I went to the dance center). Her 
name was Valerie. Ann was one of Valerie's very best 
students. There was a natural attraction between a 
teacher and a willing and able student. But the 
attraction went deeper. 

Valerie had all the poise and self-assurance that Ann, 
following her encounter with Rene, was desperately 
seeking. As for Valerie, she must have seen in Ann 
someone who was not only a beautiful, gifted student, 
but someone who was vulnerable and needed some 
protection. One day after a Saturday afternoon dance 
class, Valerie asked Ann if she would like to go to her 
club with her that day. Ann accepted with pleasure. 

After changing out of their dance clothes, they walked a 
few blocks from the dance center to one of the narrow, 
medieval streets which gives onto the Pompidou center. 
Valerie knocked on a non-descript door. A small shutter 
was opened and Valerie talked though it. As the door was 
opened, Valerie turned to Ann and explained that it was 
a private club for women who wanted to be totally 
pampered. It was very luxurious and expensive and 
Valerie was only able to afford to go for a special 
treat occasionally. Most of the club members were women 
executives who had the financial means to come more 
regularly.

Valerie explained they would start by soaking in a warm 
pool. They undressed and left their clothes with an 
attendant. Ann noticed that the attendants all wore thin 
white dresses and white fishnet tights. A number of 
other women were already in the pool. The water was 
warm, and soon Ann was relaxed with her eyes shut 
sitting on a ledge under the water and letting her head 
rest on the edge of the pool. As she rested her head, an 
attendant moved to place a folded towel under her head 
so she would be more comfortable. There was a very 
soothing background music. Ann almost dozed off to sleep 
when Valerie touched her and asked if she was ready for 
a massage. They got out of the pool and attendants 
passed them towels which they wrapped around their 
waists. 

One of the attendants then led them to a private room 
where two long mats had been laid about two feet from 
each other on the floor. Long thick towels covered the 
mats. A small vase with flowers was a the head of each 
mat. There was also a bowl with a stick of incense 
burning in the corner. As Ann took in the quiet restful 
tranquility of the room, a half dozen attendants came 
into the room. Valerie told Ann she had to choose one 
for her massage. Ann was quick to choose one who looked 
Scandinavian with short-cropped blond hair and an 
attractive smile. Valerie then chose hers, an Oriental 
girl with high check-bones.

Ann's attendant lead her to one of the mats, took her 
towel and helped her lie face down on the mat. Ann 
turned her head so she could see Valerie lying on her 
mat in the same way. She felt the Scandinavian girl's 
hands on her neck and shoulders. She closed her eyes to 
enjoy the massage. After her neck, shoulders and back, 
it was the turn for her feet and legs. It felt so good, 
after dancing in toe-shoes to have her feet massaged and 
the soreness in her legs attended to. She briefly opened 
her eyes and saw that Valerie was getting the same 
treatment from the Oriental girl. Valerie's legs were 
slightly spread, and the girl was massaging her inner 
thighs. Ann spread her legs and her inner thighs were 
also massaged.

As the Scandinavian's hands got closer to her that 
special place between her legs, Ann realized that in 
this soothing comfortable environment she would not be 
shocked or upset if indeed that special place also got 
massaged, in fact she might even welcome it. As if 
sensing her thoughts, the Scandinavian attendant was 
gently brushing the side of her hands against her spot. 
After a while, when she sensed that Ann was comfortable 
with this attention, the Scandinavian used one her hands 
to knead the cheeks of her fanny and ever so gently the 
hole in between. 

Ann heard Valerie move. She opened her eyes and saw that 
Valerie was now lying on her back. Ann decided to do the 
same. The Scandinavian attendant helped her roll over, 
and as she looked at Ann's trim and well-toned body, she 
said "tu es belle". Again she started with Ann's 
shoulders and arms, but soon got to Ann's breasts. She 
cupped them in her hands and with a couple of fingers 
gently pinched and rolled the nipples back and forth. 
Ann felt her nipples getting erect and let out a very 
soft moan of satisfaction. She glanced over at Valerie. 
Valerie was looking at her and returned her smile. 

The Oriental girl had taken off her white dress and 
fishnet tights was rubbing her whole body against 
Valerie's. Ann glanced up her Scandinavian attendant who 
was continuing to massage her breasts and play with her 
nipples. The Scandinavian caught Ann's glance and 
whispered "you want?" Ann nodded and kneeling next to 
Ann, the Scandinavian slipped out of her white dress. 
Under her dress she only had her on her white fishnet 
tights. Ann couldn't help herself from reaching out and 
feeling them, by running her hand up and down one thigh. 
The Scandinavian sat next to Ann and drew her knees up 
to her chest and then spread them so that Ann had a 
perfect view of the fishnets covering the beautiful 
Scandinavian's blond pussy. Ann had never seen anything 
quite some blatantly erotic and she gasped slightly. 

Sensing Ann's hesitation but also her desire, the 
Scandinavian took Ann's hand and drew it to her. Ann 
felt the warm and moisture of the Scandinavian as she 
pushed softly against her fishnet covered pussy. The 
Scandinavian allowed Ann to play with down there for a 
while. She then reached for a bottle of oil and, taking 
off her fishnets, covered herself with oil and began 
rubbing her whole body against Ann's. Ann closed her 
eyes in pleasure as she felt the soft firmness of the 
Scandinavian's breasts rub against her own. Their legs 
were soon intertwined and, instinctively, Ann bent a 
knee so that her leg could feel the inviting warmth of 
the Scandinavian's spot. 

At the same time she felt the other's leg move between 
hers, and soon the two young women were rubbing their 
moist spots against each other's leg. They kissed and 
then the Scandinavian moved between Ann's legs and began 
kissing and licking her down there. Her clitoris was 
standing out nicely erect and with the attention it was 
getting from the Scandinavian's lips and tongue, Ann 
felt herself reach the edge of orgasm. But before going 
over the edge, she managed to move so that the 
Scandinavian was straddling her face so she could return 
the favor she was receiving. She spread the 
Scandinavian's lips with her fingers and found the 
clitoris with her tongue. 

Soon the two young women had brought each other to edge 
of orgasm, and this time they went over it, first Ann, 
and then the Scandinavian, her duty to Ann accomplished. 

Afterwards, Ann and Valerie lay on their sides looking 
at each other. They smiled contentedly like two cats. 
Their attendants had withdrawn from the room and the two 
women just rested and relaxed, enjoying each other's 
company, the smell of the incense, the sight of the 
fresh-cut flowers and the tranquility of the room. 

When Ann told me about her visit to the club, I asked 
her how she felt about it and if was the first time she 
had been intimate with another woman. It was her first 
time and she said that all along she felt very 
comfortable with what was happening. Maybe it was the 
presence of her trusted teacher Valerie or simply the 
fact that the whole idea of the club was to let the 
women customers be comfortable with themselves, with no 
pressure to do or be anything other than what they felt 
like at the club. 

The attendants were there to serve the women in whatever 
they wanted. They might indeed get physically intimate 
with the customers, but they always remained somewhat 
anonymous. They didn't give their names, and customers 
were not given the chance to request a particular 
attendant, except among those available and offered at 
the time of their visit. Ann never saw the Scandinavian 
again, even though she did return to the club with 
Valerie a few times. 

As for her relationship with Valerie, it seemed somehow 
best not to get physically intimate with each other. 
Obviously they were very close at an emotional and 
intellectual level. And they enjoyed each other's 
company on their occasional visits to the club, but they 
both felt that a physical relationship would get in the 
way. Maybe if they weren't seeing each other almost 
every day at the dance center, they could have enjoyed a 
physical relationship without upsetting their day-to-day 
relationship. 

By the time I started taking Ann's class at the dance 
center, she had of course graduated from her Lycee and 
was studying at the Sorbonne. Since one year she was 
also teaching a class every evening at the dance center 
to help pay her way. In some ways she had gotten over 
her relationship with Rene. She had discovered in her 
dance and in her occasional visits to the club with 
Valerie and outlet for her sexual urgings. As I was to 
discover, she kept her resolve never again to be 
dominated by a man. 


To be continued...

Comments welcome tightsplus@yahoo.com

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It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
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Kristen's collection - Directory 17