This is a fill for the GKM. Contains g!p.
"Great job, everyone. I'll see you next Tuesday!"
I heard murmurs of farewells to me and the other clients as they rolled up their mats and made their way towards the foyer of the studio to leave. I grabbed my iPod from its dock and slipped it into the small pocket of my gym bag. There was only fifteen minutes until my first private lesson of the day, so I grabbed the bag and headed towards the employees' locker room to change.
I worked at four studios and gyms during the week, but Shelby's was by far my favorite. The smallest of all of them, it allowed me a chance to get to know everyone who walked through the doors. There was also a great variety of programs that Shelby offers and allows Mike and I to teach, which is nice. Most of the gyms use the same aerobics classes, which are fine, but I loved the creativity we're afforded – to do what we want with yoga, Zumba, and my personal favorite, the Senior Sneakers, which is a wonderful dance/aerobics class for senior citizens. All of my elderly students are such sweet old people.
Another reason I loved Shelby's studio was the fact that I had a place to hold my private lessons. And the studio was so well known in the neighborhood that I always had a list of clients to work with. About four months ago, she renovated the smaller room attached to the class area just so Mike and I could have somewhere more accommodating for our lessons. Most of our studio members didn't even realize it was there until they saw someone go through its door. They just assumed it was another wall of mirrors, but if one looked close enough, it was easy to see the door handle in one of the mirror's panels. It works great for both rooms because the larger classes can still use the reflection from the wall, and the private studio can take advantage of the one-sided mirrors to see into the rest of the building. Shelby wanted it to feel just as open as the other classroom, and since there was no way to install exterior windows, she opted for the mirror windows. That, in combination with three mirrored walls inside, gave the room an incredible illusion. It looked to be three sizes larger than it actually was. And I loved the privacy it created for lessons and smaller yoga classes.
As soon as my locker was open, I pulled off my yoga pants and reached for the cut-off sweats I use for aerobics. I preferred using them for dance because I felt less inhibited when I moved. It was the same reason I wore boxer briefs instead of bicycle or compression shorts, which doesn't make sense to some because all of these things were designed specifically for athletes and activity, but the tightness always made me feel like my movements were constricted.
After gulping down some water and checking to make sure everything below the belt was adjusted properly, I left the changing room. Some of Mike's Zumba members had already arrived to claim their spots near the front. Beyond them, on the other side of the room, my student sat on the floor, leaning forward and grasping her toes. She was auditioning for the role of Velma Kelly in a local theater production and had signed up for lessons to help her nail the part.
I picked my way through the small group, mostly comprised of early middle-aged women. Mike saw me winking at him and rolled his eyes with a smile. Shelby and I liked to tease him because he was popular with all of the soccer moms. And looking at him, it was obvious as to where that popularity stemmed from.
"You're slacking a bit today, Santana. Shouldn't you already be stretched and ready to go?" I greeted as I sidled up next to her.
She looked up at me through dark lashes. "Not every girl has the luxury of indulging in a forty-five minute yoga workout before her lessons."
I grinned as I helped pull her to her feet. "Maybe she should wake up a little earlier to afford that luxury."
I could tell she was trying not to show her smile as she followed me into the room. We'd already had six sessions, and Santana was comfortable enough now to head straight for the iPod dock. I watched as she placed it in the slot. She pressed play, and I heard the music cue up through the speakers.
"I'd like to start with my individual piece first, if that's alright with you," she said.
"Perfectly acceptable."
I leaned against the barre attached to the back wall and watched her work through the steps, feeling a small sense of pride, knowing how far she had progressed since we first began. Every move was sharp and exact. Rarely did she slip or stumble. By this point, all I really had to do was point or shake my head when she made a mistake. I had gladly choreographed the individual piece for her a few weeks ago when I found out that Jesse St. James was running the production. I knew him through a mutual friend and was familiar with what he was looking for in a performer.
After twenty minutes, she felt confident enough to move onto the partnered portion of the audition. I watched her pull a long drink from her water bottle as I changed the song selection to a shortened version of the tango piece she'd be singing.
"So Thursday's the big day, huh?"
Santana dropped the bottle back into her bag and nodded. "Yeah. I hope I've done enough."
I reached for her hand as the music started to play. "We'll see how it goes today before we panic, alright?"
After another nod from her, I counted off, and we began the routine. Jesse was known for his love of outlandish choreography, so the tango he had Santana learn was definitely more advanced than most productions of Chicago called for. A former Broadway performer would be dancing with her on Thursday for her audition, so I knew it was up to Santana to put on a spectacular show. There were lots of spins and embellishments, and the finale capped off with a low dip as her leg wrapped around her partner's waist. It was a difficult routine, even for experienced dancers, and I knew she was less confident about this portion of her audition than any other, but she was doing very well.
The routine was only about a minute and a half, but we took a small break between every play so she had a chance to catch her breath and listen to the tips I had to give. There were several times she moved to her bag for water or her towel. I tried to keep myself from watching her wipe the sweat from her neck and face, but it was really difficult. There was no denying the fact that Santana was very attractive. Every time she left her lessons for the past six weeks, I'd always pat myself on the back for remaining professional. I wasn't even sure if she was attracted to women, much less one born with a penis, and I definitely didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. So I averted my eyes as best as I could while I waited for her to get back into position.
After a few more plays, it was obvious her confidence had increased. Her focus was less on what she was doing and more on how we moved as a unit. By the time we finished what had to have been the twentieth run-through, she was dancing the best she'd ever had. We pulled apart and glanced at the clock that hung above the iPod dock.
"I know my time is up," she said, still breathing hard and wiping sweat off her brow with the back of her hand, "but do you think we can do this one more time? I just want to be sure I've got it for Thursday."
I hopped over to her iPod and pressed play. "I guess, but only because you've been such an outstanding student."
Santana grinned and took her place in the middle of the room. Her breathing was still heavy, but she refused to take a break when I suggested it. I took her hand in mine, and we turned into the first spin. On this go, she maintained eye contact throughout the entire dance. I could see her lips mouthing the lyrics she'd have to sing during the audition. Every pop and snap was executed with precision. We moved as if we were one person. Not once did I have to pull her from a misstep or catch her from a stumble. Everything was perfect. When she fell back into the final dip and slung her leg around me, we were both panting from exertion.
I made the mistake of allowing my eyes to wander for the first time, knowing I'd never have another opportunity once she walked out of the studio. Sweat droplets rolled across her collarbone as her chest rose and fell with every breath. I almost swallowed my tongue when I saw two erect nipples straining against the material of her top. I felt a twitch underneath my briefs, and to my horror, Santana snapped her head up to look at me. The confusion on her face told me that she'd felt it too.
Mortified, I dropped her leg and immediately turned towards the stereo to grab her iPod. In the three years I'd been teaching, nothing like this had happened before – at least, not to where a client had ever noticed. As I pulled the iPod off its dock, I glanced down and breathed a small sigh of relief that my small boner wasn't visibly noticeable.
"I think you're going to blow Jesse away," I said and then cringed at my word choice.
"You really think so?"
Her voice sounded small. Cautiously, I looked up at her reflection in the wall length mirror and saw her nervous expression. I turned to face her, and I didn't miss the way her eyes flitted down to my pants and then back up. As casually as I could, I let the hand not holding her iPod rest in front of me as a shield – just in case.
"If you don't get the part, I'll give up dancing."
Her eyes flickered down one more time, but she smiled and took her iPod from me. I fidgeted nervously while she packed her bag and moved towards the door. She turned toward me as she reached for the door handle. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and it looked like she was debating about whether she wanted to say something. I scuffed my toe against the floor and leaned against the barre mounted against the wall. Finally, she spoke.
"I guess I don't have a choice but to land the role, huh?"
I offered a small smile. "You'd better because I'm not ready to give up dance just yet."
With a final glance below the waistband of my sweats, she nodded and left.
/
Even though I couldn't figure out why I was disappointed, I felt a little down when Thursday came and went with no update about Santana's audition. There was no reasonable explanation because I had none of her contact information, and she had none of mine. I kept my fingers crossed and did my best to send positive vibes for the entire day. When the weekend arrived, I didn't have much time to dwell on the lack of news. The Pride celebration was in full effect throughout the city, but because I had prior family obligations, I wasn't able to attend any events until the parade on Sunday afternoon.
I arrived a little later than the agreed time and jogged towards our meeting place. Before I got there, I heard my name shouted from an excited little blonde girl who was running towards me with her arms outstretched. I scooped her up in my arms.
"Britt, look what we got you!"
She was holding a small flag that sported the familiar tri-colors of the bisexual community. I took it from her and waved it happily. "Thank you so much, Beth. I love it. And you got your face painted! That's so cool."
She grinned at me which made the little rainbows on her cheeks scrunch together. She made sure I noticed her own rainbow flag, and when I asked her where everyone was, she pointed to the left of where we were standing. I saw Mike, Tina, and Shelby standing in a prime parade viewing section right by the roadside. Beth slid from my arms and ran back to the group, pulling me along behind her.
The five of us planned to meet up to watch the parade together because this year, Quinn was marching with a small group from her church. I met Quinn when I started working for Shelby. She was Beth's biological birth mother, and Shelby was insistent about keeping an open relationship between her adopted daughter and Quinn. I don't see her much because I only work with Shelby once a week, but over time, Quinn and I have managed to grow almost as close as Mike and I have.
"I love your headband, Brittany," Tina said when I finally stood next to them.
"It looks like my flag," Beth observed.
"Thanks, Tina," I said and then looked at Beth. "I made it just for today!"
Mike bumped my hip with his. "Looks like you arrived just in time."
I looked up and saw the mounted police leading the front of the parade line. There was an enormous explosion of color behind them, as well as multiple bass beats thumping through the air. I heard Beth complain that she couldn't see past the guard rails that had been lined up along the sidewalk, so I picked her up.
"Now Brittany, don't feel like you have to hold her," I heard Shelby say. "She's able to see just fine through these rails."
"It's no problem. I'll just promise not to hold her after she turns five," I said, winking at the girl's mother. I felt a tug against my sleeve and saw a frown on Beth's face.
"I just turned six!"
"Oh, that's right! I must have forgotten. Well, in that case, I'll hold you this year, but next year it's your turn to hold me."
That made her laugh. "You're too big to hold, silly."
"Then you better eat your spinach because you've got lots of muscles to build before next summer."
Fifteen minutes into the parade, Beth spotted Quinn's church group. All five of us waved at her and her friend, Mercedes, as they passed us, holding signs that said things like Building Bridges between Communities and God is Love. Beth's constant shouting of their names ensured that they saw us and waved back. One of the church members even ran up to Beth to hand her some candy.
The rest of the parade passed in glorious fashion. The five of us cheered and danced and shouted with the masses as the floats and bands passed us. I was so absorbed in what was going on around us that when I saw Santana perched atop a float in the distance, it caught me completely off guard. Compared to a lot of the parade participants, she was modestly dressed in shorts and a tank. A multitude of colorful beads hung around her neck, while several bangles slid over her arms. She looked really, really good.
My leering was interrupted when Beth screamed, "S'tana!"
I didn't think she would be able to hear her name over the noise of the crowds, but by some miracle, her head turned towards us. When our eyes met, she smiled and hopped off of her float to run towards the five of us. When she was standing in front of us, she pinched Beth's cheeks.
"Hey, cutie pie!"
"Did you see my flag?" Beth asked.
"I did! And you're looking fabulous today."
Santana quickly said hello to the rest of the group and then turned back towards me. Before I realized what she was doing, I was enveloped in a tight hug as one of her arms wound around my neck.
"I got the part!" she nearly squealed into my ear.
"Congratulations!" I said, doing my best to hug her back while holding Beth.
Santana pulled away and looked over her shoulder towards the float she abandoned. "I've got to run before they leave me, but can I come by the studio this week to see you?"
I still couldn't get over the fact that I'd managed to run into Santana in the middle of Pride and receive a hug in the middle of a parade. "Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be good."
"Great, I'll see you soon!"
I couldn't believe my luck when she leaned in for another hug, but I stopped breathing completely when I felt her press a quick kiss to my cheek. "Thanks again, Brittany!"
I knew my mouth was hanging open, but the muscles in my jaw refused to do anything to correct it. Beth grabbed my wrist when she noticed how still I became, and she did her best to force me to wave my little flag. When Santana hopped back onto her float, she waved at us one more time before turning to the crowd down the street.
Mike leaned over and quietly asked, "What was that?"
I had no reply for him as I continued to stare at the back of Santana's float.
"I don't know if you realize this, but your tongue is hanging out. You might want to reel it back in."
I snapped my attention to him. His eyes were twinkling mischievously. I told him to shut up and smacked him hard on the shoulder.
/
My mind stayed distracted throughout my yoga class Tuesday morning. When Santana mentioned she wanted to see me, I knew Tuesday would be the only opportunity because she didn't know how else to find me. After the class ended, I hung around and made small talk with some of the ladies walking in for Mike's class – the only reason being that I was hopeful Santana might walk through the studio's doors while I did. Mike started the class on time, but Santana had still not shown up.
I made my way to a corner and sunk down to the floor. Since her lesson slot was open, I had free time in my schedule until I could find another private student. I pulled my appointment calendar from my bag and started flipping through the pages, looking at old contacts and wondering whether I should give some of them a call. I knew that a few local schools would be starting cheer tryouts soon, and I figured some of my high school students may have wanted to brush up on their tumbling skills.
I'd only been curled into my corner for about ten minutes before I felt something bump against my foot. Santana was standing over me when I looked up, and I hastily scrambled to my feet, dropping the little book back into my bag.
"Hey."
"Hi," she said. "I just wanted to stop by and let you know how much I appreciated your help."
I nodded. "Sure."
She looked around the room for a moment, watching Mike lead the soccer moms in their dance aerobic routines. When she turned back to me, she looked a little nervous. "It's kind of loud in here. Do you think we can…"
She was nodding her head towards the private studio. We started walking, and I led the way through the door. I didn't walk very far into the room because we weren't going in for a lesson, and Santana took her time turning towards me. I didn't understand why until she held out a small gift bag.
"Santana, you didn't have to."
"I know, but I just wanted to do something."
I looked in the bag and saw a card nestled into the tissue paper. The card was blank inside and had a short message in a tidy scrawl:
Brittany,
I couldn't have done it without you. You're amazing.
From the bottom of my heart,
Santana
There was a small plastic card that had been taped to the inside. It was a gift card to lululemon for $150.
"Oh Santana, this is so sweet, but –"
She reached forward, grabbing my hand to silence my protest. "No 'buts'. I wanted to do this. I know it'll barely buy you an outfit, but please accept it."
"But –"
"No."
She took the card and bag out of my hands and placed them on the floor beside me. Her eyes were shining, and a small smile splayed against her lips. "I wanted to go for a larger amount, but Quinn said you'd be too modest to accept it."
"I – what? You know Quinn?"
She shrugged. "We went to high school together. She's the reason I found out about Shelby's studio…and she's the one who told me you'd be the best person to hire for private lessons."
Santana was looking up at me through her lashes, and I swallowed thickly against a small lump in my throat that had suddenly appeared. All at once, I realized how Beth knew Santana's name to shout it the previous Sunday. "Um. Thanks. For the card, I mean. And…I'm glad you landed the role."
She kept looking at me, and I felt a little heat rise up my neck as I struggled for something else to say. It looked like she was waiting for me to do something, but I had no idea what. The moment had turned very intense very quickly, and I couldn't understand what that meant. After a few seconds, her gaze relaxed.
"So, Pride. Was this your first?" she asked.
I glanced over her shoulder through the mirror-windows and saw that Mike's class was still in full swing. I wanted to keep talking to her, but I knew our time was limited until the end of his class because he had his own private lesson to conduct afterward. I also had a class of my own to teach soon.
"Uh, no, actually. This is the fifth year I've been. I was only able to go to the parade this year, though."
"I've been going since I was a junior in high school, although this is the first year I was recruited into the parade," she laughed.
I wanted to keep the conversation going, and I said the first thing that popped into my head. "We liked your float."
A sly grin spread across her face. "Your little flag was cute."
The lump in my throat appeared again.
"Look, Brittany," Santana said quietly. She took a small step towards me and into my personal space. "I like you."
Stupidly, I replied, "I-I like you too, Santana."
She let out a small laugh when she saw how flustered I was and took another step towards me until her chest brushed mine. I felt her fingertip trace an indistinguishable pattern against my hip. As per my usual routine, I'd only put on briefs that morning, and I already felt blood rushing down below. Before she could feel anything, I took a few steps back, leaning my hips away from hers.
"I'm particularly fond of beautiful women. And you are absolutely gorgeous," she purred.
She stepped into my bubble again, and there was a definite twitch in my pants. I stumbled backwards once again.
"You know, I kind of had a feeling after that last dance we had together," she said and followed me as I awkwardly shuffled away from her.
"What do you mean?"
Her eyes drifted down as she continued to step towards me. Instinctively, my hands worked their way to the front of my pants, trying to hide what my yoga pants were failing to keep hidden. When my butt bumped into the barre at the back of the room, I felt heat creep up my neck and onto my face. I was trapped, and Santana knew it because she finally dragged her eyes up to meet mine.
"Call me crazy, but it felt like you were into our dance as much as I was."
My nerves were at an all time high. I tried telling myself that her word emphasis didn't mean what I thought it meant, but I knew from her glances and the way she was looking at me that I was lying to myself. "I think that was my drawstring knot."
A giggle broke through her lips. "You and I both know that was far too big to be a drawstring."
Just as the thought of trying to sidestep her crossed my mind, she leaned forward and kissed me as one of her hands pushed mine aside to rest against the bulge in my pants.
"Santana," I breathed into her mouth. I couldn't stop my hips from jerking against her palm when she slid her hand against me.
"Definitely not a little string," she murmured against my lips.
My hands were gripping the barre on either side of me so tightly, I was sure that it would crack at any moment. A moan rumbled low in my throat. Santana pressed her tongue into my mouth and gripped my ass with her free hand. With her body pinning me against the barre and the slow and steady movement she was conducting below my waistband, I was trapped with no escape. And with the way she was squeezing me, there was no way in hell I would attempt it, even if I could.
"I've wanted to kiss you ever since our first lesson," she husked. "And I haven't been able to think of anything else all weekend."
"You don't have to stop," I croaked.
"Not planning on it."
I leaned forward to kiss her again, but she dropped her head to my chest and placed wet, open mouthed kisses against the shirt covering my left breast. Both of her hands moved to the waistband of my pants as she moved her attention to my other breast and then lower, until her nose pushed underneath my shirt so she could kiss the skin around my bellybutton.
She'd managed to work me up until I was completely hard underneath her hand, and now I could feel her neck pressed against me. I didn't think I could grip the wooden beam beneath my hands any tighter, but I did. And my knuckles were aching from the strain.
I sucked in a huge breath when her fingers dipped into my pants and underwear let it out in one enormous huff when I felt them slide just below my knees. I felt like I was going into shock. My brain had not caught up to the reality of what was happening, so when her tongue flicked out against the tip of my erection, my knees buckled. Her hands reached to grab my ass again, and the forceful grip I had on the barre kept me from falling to the ground. Santana found my reaction amusing and kept her tongue's attention right at the head.
The combination of watching her and feeling her became too much, and I closed my eyes tightly, leaning my head backwards until it was resting against the mirror behind me. My cock kept jerking from all of her licking, and I felt her left hand wrap around the base to keep it steady. Santana squeezed it lightly, and I was thankful – not just because it felt so good, but because in doing so, it probably prolonged the amount of time I'd be able to let her keep doing those wonderful, wonderful things with her mouth.
I wanted to touch her hair or cheek or just her, but I didn't think I'd be able to keep my fingers from digging into her skin, so I dutifully kept my hands where they were. My head kept turning from side to side to give my body a chance to release some of the pent up energy I was building. Her hand started twisting around the base of my cock, and finally her lips slid down past the head. I allowed myself to open my eyes as my head turned to the side one more time.
"Oh my god, Santana…"
I could see us in the reflection of the mirror to my left. She was on her knees, one hand gripping me while the other squeezed my ass. Her head was slowly moving back and forth. It was one of the hottest things I'd ever been able to witness.
I could only take watching it for a few seconds before my hands left their position to pull back her hair. I wanted to watch her up close. She glanced up at me when her hair was pushed past her eyes and hummed her approval. The vibration made my mouth drop open in a silent groan. We didn't keep eye contact because she started taking more of me into her mouth – so much so, that she had to move her left hand to join the right in its role of helping to support me as I continued to lean against the beam.
Her lips moved closer and closer while her tongue continued to keep its firm pressure on the underside of the shaft. With one final push, her nose pressed against the skin underneath my navel. It happened faster than I had anticipated. My hands clutched her hair at the back of her head, and her name tumbled from my lips.
Santana's hands started pressing my hips against her as she bobbed her head. She was moving me in rhythm to what her mouth was doing. I took the hint and started slowly pumping my hips. She slid her lips all the way down to the end of my erection and sucked lightly before sliding back the way she came, until her nose was once again pressed against my skin.
I had to look away because everything was becoming too intense. When I looked up, I saw straight into the studio. Mike's class was finishing up, and people were starting to disperse. I'd completely forgotten where we were. A few of the people had stopped in front of the mirrors and were fixing their hair and clothes as they chatted with one another. It created the illusion of them peeking into the room, but I knew none of them could see (or had any idea) what was happening just a few feet away from them. A voyeuristic thrill flowed through my body, and my hands helped guide Santana's head back and forth.
I couldn't help but pretend that the few people in the studio were watching us, and I let the fantasy overtake me. I felt the tightening in my lower stomach become more intense as I continued to thrust my hips. After a few pumps, I felt my cock hit the back of Santana's throat, and I looked down to apologize, but Santana just moaned in response. That vibration only afforded me the chance to give her a few seconds' warning.
"San–Santana – you –"
I tried pulling her back, but she held my hips in place, keeping her mouth around the head. When I felt her tongue flick out as she gave me a hard suck, it was all over.
"Santa–oh, ohhhh… "
The orgasm that ripped through me was the only thing my mind could focus on. My eyes were clinched shut, and I had no idea what was spewing out of my mouth until it was over. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that I was sprawled out on the ground with my back resting against the mirror behind me. Santana, of course, was knelt in front of me, grinning like the fucking Cheshire Cat.
My body didn't gain the ability to speak until I heard the door rattle. My eyes snapped up, and I saw Mike looking at the door with confusion.
"Oh, shit!"
I scrambled to my feet, pulling my pants up as I went. Santana joined me and placed a comforting hand against my arm.
"Relax. I locked it when we came in."
I watched Mike as he walked away and headed for the door to the office. I knew he was fetching the key.
"We have to get out of here," I said, grabbing her hand and snatching the gift bag she'd given me as I sped towards the door. In one quick motion, I turned the lock and pushed the door open, ignoring the few stragglers from the last class. I quickly led us out of the studio, through the foyer, and into the parking lot, refusing to stop until we reached my car. I leaned against it in relief of having escaped unnoticed.
Santana was smiling at me, looking like she was on the verge of laughing. I asked her what she found so funny about me almost losing my job.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I just really like spending time with you, is all."
I laughed despite still feeling on edge from our close call. "I like spending time with you too."
"I could tell."
I looked away and felt a blush cover my face. Not that it made sense to be embarrassed of a comment like that when she had just given me the best orgasm I'd had in months.
"I like this too," she said softly, raising our hands. I didn't realize I hadn't let go when we made it to the car. "I'd like to keep doing it, if that's alright with you."
I turned back towards her. For the first time since I'd seen her that morning, she looked nervous. I smiled and said, "I'd absolutely love it."
