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Subject: {ASSM} Ann (ballet, Asian, tights) Part 1
Date: Sat, 13 Oct 2001 08:10:01 -0400
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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.  One further warning: part 1
is a little slow.

Part 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 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 looked 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, n 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.  
 
To be continued...
Comments welcome tightsplus@yahoo.com


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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
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