I had a walkway built from the main house to the studio for Aurora. There are glass doors that run along both sides that can be opened to let the breeze from the sea come through.

That’s how I heard the music.

I was in my office on a conference call when I heard something coming from the studio. The fact that I had it built within sight of my office is no accident. Just like Aurora coming to be here with me.

The people on the call kept talking about numbers and profit shares as I walked to the balcony and looked out. I could see the glass doors were ajar and there was movement in the studio.

“So she’s found it,” I say to myself before I hear more people on the phone talking.

Walking over to the phone I end the call without saying a word. I’ll deal with them later. Just as I take a step away from my desk, Elina appears.

“She’s had a late start to the day, but she seems very happy. We toured the house and the gardens before I showed her the dance studio.”

She smiles at me and clasps her hands in front of her pristine apron.

“And?” I ask as she waits for me to tell her to go on.

“She enjoyed the media room very much. I don’t believe she was allowed television at home. And also the grotto. She was excited to have a place indoors to swim while the weather is cool.”

“What did she think of the studio?” I’m hesitant in my question, fearful that it wasn’t up to her standards.

“She said that I saved the best for last.”

I feel pride grow in my chest that I was able to give Aurora something she loved. She may be here under her false pretenses, but as long as she is happy, then the ends justify the means.

“I’m going to retire. The kitchen staff has dinner under control. If you need me I’ll be in the east wing,” Elina says as she bows and leaves my office.

I thank her as she leaves and then make my way out to where Aurora is.

I follow the sound of heavy bass and a woman’s voice singing about being trouble. I recognize the Amy Winehouse song, and smile. I put a random selection of music on the sound system, not knowing what she liked to dance to in her free time. But after a lot of research I found out that she didn’t have free time. And even more rarely did she dance to anything other than classical or the prescribed music of the director in her show.

The door is ajar, so I step inside silently, slipping off to the side and taking a seat on one of the oversized armchairs I had brought in. It leans back a little, but it’s tall, so it’s comfortable for me to lounge in while I watch her.

When I sit down I finally allow myself to look at her, to focus on the beauty before me.

The studio is almost as large as most houses, but without any dividing walls. Near the entrance is a lounge area with a carpet and a chair and a couch. On the far wall is a door that leads to a bathroom, a sauna and a steam room.

But the main focus is the center stage, which takes up almost the entirety of the space. She could run from one end to the other and be out of breath before she reaches the edge. The one thing that I insisted on when building this space was that it have no mirrors. This is not a place for Aurora to be perfect. This is a place for her to feel beautiful and to come alive. This is the place where she can find her soul, and I can watch her do it.

She moves to the rhythm, slow then fast. I’ve never seen her dance like this before, and I watched every performance since the first night I saw her on stage. There are no clinical steps to what she’s doing. She’s feeling the music and moving in time.

Sitting back in my chair, I feel heat radiate through my body as I watch her. The white dress is made of a thin material that allows me to see through to her thighs. Then, when she spreads her leg high above her head, it dips down, showing me a peek of her light pink panties.

I reach down and rub my hand across my hard cock, watching her as she moves, imagining her moving against me. Her long legs wrapped around my waist as I thrust in and out of her wet folds.

Her arms move above her head, and her breasts peek out of the top of her dress. The blush on her skin from dancing has made me wonder what she tastes like when she sweats. If I licked between her ripe tits, would she taste like innocence or sin?

My cock begins to weep in my pants, begging for some kind of relief. Aurora is lost in the dance and the song, so I undo my pants and pull out my shirt to cover the opening. I reach down between my legs and hiss at the contact against my throbbing length. Slowly I stroke my bare cock as I watch her move, pretending she’s moving her body on top of mine, that my cock is deep inside her soaking wet pussy while she undulates.

My strokes become harder and more aggressive with every sway of her hips. It never occurs to me that I’m jerking off while watching her and she has no idea. The only thing I know is that I have to cum right here. Right now. And if I can’t do that in her little sweet cunt, then I’ll do it in my hand while I’ve got my eyes on her.

I feel it building, boiling up inside me. Watching her spread her legs and dip low is the vision that does it. I feel hot, sticky spurts of cum jet into my slacks as I give in to the relief. I have to bite my lip to keep from shouting out, the orgasm is so fierce. I use the cream to lube up my hand as I finish jerking off, pulling out every drop.

I sit like that for a moment, hand and inner thigh covered in cum as I try to control my breathing and watch her dance. It’s then I feel my cock begin to harden again, needing her this time. I know my hand won’t be enough to satisfy this ache. No, he needs her soft pink lips wrapped tightly around him.

I clean my hand off on my shirt and then tuck myself back into my pants. I straighten my clothing as best as I can before standing up, adjusting my growing cock and walking to the edge of the stage. Just as I do, the song ends, and she spins around laughing.

God, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks like she came with me. The thought alone has me holding back a moan.

When she catches sight of me, she jumps then laughs again.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were in here. Sorry, I got caught up dancing. This place is magnificent.” She looks around with eyes wide, smiling brightly. “I can’t wait to train in here. I love that there are no mirrors.”

I tuck my hand in my pocket and secretly stroke my hard length. “I’m so pleased you like it. Would you like to dance more, or are you ready for dinner?”

She bites her lip, and I know the answer before she speaks.

“Maybe one more song?”

“I think one more would be perfect,” I say, winking at her and then taking my seat again.

She sets the music to Alicia Keys, “Fallin’”. The piano begins to play, and her body moves with the beats.

Looks like my hand will have to do one more time.