Bri

But then, he did the strangest thing. Or at least, at first, it confused you. He wrapped his fingers around the chain of his dog tags, and removed them from around his neck. Never in all the years you've known him have you ever seen him take his dog tags off. For fucks sake, he wore them underneath his uniform on your wedding day. However, all of your questions were answered when he gently placed them around your neck instead.

"For all the times you've done it to me, I think it's finally time for you to feel exactly what you do to me," he whispered to you.

And with that, he yanked on the tags and tugged your face towards his. His hips fucked up into yours with terrifying strength. He kept one hand wrapped around the chain, keeping you close, and the other on your ass, gripping it like a lifeline, moving you up and down on his cock. Burning pleasure ripped through your body. You could feel heat building in your chest, your face, your cunt. He hit that spot over and over again with a force you hadn't felt in months. His dog tags tightened around your neck, choking you in the best way possible. Your faces were so close together, you could feel him breathing into your mouth.

Simon kissed your lips with a need that had been simmering under his skin for the months he was away from you. You tried your hardest to kiss him back, but you couldn't help but let your mouth hang open, moaning into his with every thrust he made.

After, you sat in the bath together, your back pressed up against his chest and his hands caressing the outside of your thighs. He pointed out the red line across the back of your neck from the chain. You could feel it, tingly and a little sore, almost as if it cut into your skin rather than leaving a thin bruise.

Of course, the relaxing bath didn't last long when he slid his fingers between your thighs. He slipped one finger in to start, teasing you, alternating between light strokes to your clit and pressing inside against your g-spot. Eventually, he added another finger, and quickened his pace, his fingers moving in and out of you with a precision he learned to master. You pressed your back into his chest, your ass rubbing up against his thick cock.

Ten minutes later you were riding him once again. This time in the bath tub. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub, creating a giant puddle in the middle of your bathroom. Simon couldn't stop staring at your tits, the way his dog tags bounced in between them every time you came down on his cock. It was a sight for his sore eyes. He was definitely putting them on you more often.

“These are her favorite so I’m going to grab a bag of these and then head over to the drinks,” he made a face into the camera. Colby was aware he was lacking on posting to his personal youtube channel. He also was very aware that his audience loved his girlfriend. So he took some advantage of his thoughtful idea from this morning and decided he’d make a short video about it. His followers always talked about you in the comment sections. They ate up every little piece of you he gave; instagram posts, tiktoks, every single drop of you was sucked up by his fans. It reflected on your socials too. As soon as you guys went public with your relationship, they blew up. All you really posted was dancing videos and the occasional selfie, but you eventually had to mute notifications on your socials because of the amount of love you were getting. Of course, there were haters, but Colby always reminded you that they were only jealous because he was yours and they couldn’t have him. 

After grabbing your favorite drink, Colby made his way towards self-checkout, vlogging every step of the way. He talked about things he was excited for in the future, stories from when you and him first started dating, and even a trip you two were planning on taking to Paris soon. The video might as well be called “Talking Aimlessly About My Amazing Girlfriend while Grocery Shopping”. 

Eventually, after fighting with the self-checkout machine, he arrived back at his car, “Alright guys, I’m heading over to her studio now and hopefully she’s still by herself. Oh god I hope her instructor didn’t show up, that would be embarrassing for the both of us. That woman is scary.” He met her once at a fundraiser event for your company that you invited him to. You introduced him to your instructor trying to be kind, but the conversation ended with her telling you to go to bed early because there was rehearsal at 7:30 the next morning and telling Colby not to get you pregnant. Let’s just say he avoided your instructor like the plague at every future event you dragged him to. 

The one worry Colby had on his mind was that someone had joined you to practice before he showed up. He would still go in to bring you your snacks and flowers, but he was hoping you would let him sit and watch you dance for a little before leaving. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that if someone was there. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be in the studio, but Colby would do anything for you even if that included breaking a couple rules.  

Colby loved watching you dance. Before meeting you, he was never really into watching ballet. But after buying a ticket for one of your shows when you first met, he was hooked. Hooked on the passion that radiated from you up on stage. Hooked on the way your body looked so soft, but so strong at the same time. Hooked on how you looked so beautiful while you danced. He had to admit that watching you extend your legs so high turned him on in every way possible. 

“The universe is not on my side today,” he grumbled when he ran into his fourth red light of the drive. He swore to the camera propped up on the passenger seat that if there were no stop lights, it would only take him five minutes to get there as opposed to twenty. 

The only times Colby ever got to see you dance was during your shows, when you posted on instagram, or when you occasionally danced in the kitchen with your socks on, sliding across the tiled floor with ease. He wasn’t allowed to watch any rehearsals and you weren’t keen on ruining the kitchen tiles with rosin. 

Meanwhile, you were in the upstairs studio, already frustrated with yourself for falling out of your pirouettes. You had a feeling when you walked into the studio that today wasn’t going to be a turning day.

You danced across the floor. Every arabesque, bourrée, and piqué; all perfectly executed. Purple flashed in your peripherals every time you faced the mirror. The leotard accentuated the curves of your body perfectly. There was a reason it was your favorite. The lace, the mesh cutouts, the neckline, the color. It was your lucky leotard. But when the final turn combination came, you still wobbled and came down a pirouette too early.  

The music stopped playing from the speakers, indicating the track was over, but you stood in the middle of the floor staring at yourself in the mirror. You noted how your bun was falling out, how your skirt was crooked, and how the tension in your shoulders made you look slightly hunched over. Ballerinas were supposed to be lean and slender. Not bent over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Your instructor’s words echoed through your head, “Keep your chest up and shoulders back more to hide your hunch back. And for the love of god go get a massage.” It wasn’t even that bad, but she was right. You really needed a massage. But this variation had to be perfect for tomorrow’s rehearsal. You made a mental note to schedule a proper massage in the next couple of days. Colby’s given you great massages before, but they’re usually cut short when his hands start to wander lower than your back. 

You made your way over to the barre on the far wall. Maybe some extra stretching would solve your turning problem. You huffed at yourself, knowing that stretching was not going to help. The wooden barre felt familiar under your soft hands. The knicks across the top showed the amount of history that lingered in the room. You brushed your thumb over the closest one to your fingers. This one came from when your friend thought it was a good idea to whack her shoe on the barre in an attempt to soften the box. You had insisted on her just stepping on it like usual, but she wanted to try new things apparently. 

Smiling to yourself, you lifted your leg to place your foot on the barre, being sure to keep both your legs turned out and your foot pointed. You slid your leg down the barre and stretched.

Little did you know, Colby was quietly creeping up the stairs trying to keep the creaks to a minimum. He crossed his fingers, “I really hope she’s still alone.” 

He peered into the viewing window and saw you, one leg propped up on the barre, the other stretched out behind you. Colby immediately zoomed into your stretching figure, making sure to catch your beautiful physique on camera. Of course he was going to record you for his fans. He wanted to show you off. 

He watched as you skillfully slid yourself back up to a neutral position on the barre. While you were still distracted, he took the opportunity to carefully move over to the door of the studio. 

Sighing, you slid back down the barre, unsatisfied with your initial stretch. The burn spreading across your legs wasn’t good enough. You wanted to take them off and stretch them out with your hands like you would with a stress toy. Maybe that’s what you needed. A stress toy. Or something you could squeeze and rip apart to relieve the anxiety and turmoil building up in your life. With another show coming up and countless charity and fundraiser events for your company, you felt like you couldn’t get a break. Being principal dancer was not simple. You were the face of your entire company. Most of your days were spent either in rehearsal or standing across from some rich sponsor sweet talking them into giving more money to the company. It was seriously taking a toll on you. Colby could tell. You haven’t been your usual self. He could see the bags under your eyes and the way you slouched at the table while eating breakfast, more tired than usual. Every time you bent down to grab something, he could hear the struggled breaths that left your mouth because of how sore your back was. That’s why he wanted to surprise you so badly. He wanted to help in any way he could. This was the first that came to his mind. 

Colby stepped into the studio, after taking his shoes off of course. He saw the “No outside shoes” sign while walking into the building and he was already planning on staying for a while so might as well get comfortable. 

You turned away from the barre with a plan to restart your music, but was met with your boyfriend leaning against the doorway, camera in one hand and the other hand hidden behind his back. Shock rippled through your body and your eyebrows shot up your forehead, “Colby? What are you doing here?” 

“Hey angel,” Colby smiled, “I’ve got a surprise for you.” He walked towards you, eager with every inch he got closer to you. 

“Oh,” you questioned. A small smirk spread across your lips. You were slightly confused by his appearance. He’s never showed up randomly at the studio before. Unless he was picking you up from rehearsal, but usually he waited outside or in the lobby. You walked closer to him with a newfound sense of anticipation and excitement.

You met halfway together and stopped in the middle of your studio. He looked down at you, his breath tickling your nose. The lack of space between you two made your smirk spread into a big smile. You lifted your arms up to wrap around his neck, and brought him down closer to you. The kiss was soft and welcoming. All he could think about was how perfect your lips felt against his. Eventually you had to part for air, but god he could  spend his entire life doing nothing else but kissing you. 

The camera in his hand was left recording, but discarded hanging down by his leg. He’ll edit that part out later. 

“You told me this morning you had the studio to yourself so I wanted to surprise you,” Colby said while taking one step back away from you. He took out his hand from behind his back to reveal the flowers and bag of snacks. They were the most beautiful purple roses you’ve ever been gifted before. You’ve had your fair share of roses thrown at you on stage, but these ones couldn’t compare. 

“Colby..” you gasped, “They’re beautiful.” He handed you the roses which you gladly took from him. You lifted the flowers up to your nose to smell them. 

“They match your leotard,” he laughed, “I didn’t plan that part.” 

You looked down at your leotard, even though you knew exactly what one you were wearing, “Yeah they do.” Your smile only spread wider. The roses almost matched the exact shade of purple your leotard was. 

“You look gorgeous in purple,” Colby smiled, “it’s totally your color.”

“Really, you think so?”

“Definitely.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

You turned toward the mirror to admire Colby and yourself, resting your head on his chest. Your purple stood out against his black clothing in the best way possible. He laid his arm across your shoulders and leaned in close to you, lifting his camera to get a mirror pic. You turned into him and held the flowers in between the two of you. Once you were sure he got his picture, you looked up at him. Anybody could tell how in love you were with him just by the way you looked at him then. You already knew that Colby would be posting a short video of this, and you made a bet with yourself that all the comments would be about the way you and Colby looked at each other. Passion, love, and friendship bloomed through the two of you.

“I got you your favorites,” he pointed out your favorite snack and drink in the plastic bag that hung from his fingers. 

“Aww. Roses and snacks? You didn’t have to do this for me,” you looked up at him.

“No, but I wanted to,” he met your eyes and leaned down to kiss you once more. His lips moved slowly against yours. You brushed your hand up his arm and intertwined your fingers in his hair. Reluctantly, he pulled away to go put down his camera on the counter in the corner of the studio. He switched the camera off on purpose, not wanting to record such an intimate moment and risk the footage getting out somewhere.

You joined him by the counter to place your roses and snacks down somewhere that wasn’t the floor. Colby’s arm slid around the back of your waist, his fingers brushing your skin through the open back of your leotard. He turned your body towards him and avidly brought your face back to his. His lips combined with yours, much more intense than before. Your hands made their way back to his hair. His hands gripped your waist like it was the only thing keeping him anchored to earth.

Colby let out a quiet groan when you tightened the hold you had on his hair. A small giggle left your lips and you pulled away for just a second, looking into his eyes with admiration. He smiled and kissed you once more.

“I need to get back to practicing,” you whispered against his lips. As much as you’d like to stand here and make out with him all day, you needed to get back to dancing. Your solo isn’t going to practice itself.

He pulled back just slightly so he could see your face, “Can I stay?”

“As long as you don’t distract me.”

“No promises, but I’ll try not to,” his lips caressed your forehead.

The next half hour was spent with you running your variation, over and over again. Nitpicking each and every spot that you felt needed work. Colby sat on the floor against the mirror and watched you dance. He recorded a couple minutes of you dancing, but his video wasn’t his top priority. He ended up ditching the camera to be able to watch you with his own eyes instead of through a camera lense. 

Every time you repeated a section, he thought to himself about how perfect you looked to him; even when he knew you didn’t look perfect to yourself. Every turn, jump, and step looked beautiful to him. Or maybe it was because he thought you were beautiful in general. Or maybe both. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was exactly where he wanted to be, sitting on the floor, his head balanced on his fist, watching his beautiful girlfriend dance. He was happy right where he sat, just being near you.