Tg Ballerina Novels & Stories

I did the twisted ballerina and I was about to do the falling trick when I saw someone on the door. I stop and go down the pole, she smiles and walks towards my place, “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Twisted ballerina fall trick?” she asks me, how did she know that? I nodded as an answer and she smile at me, “You need to be at the very tip to get that trick” she said, she put her bag down undress her dress in front of me. She’s wearing a white sando inside with black boyleg shorts.

A gentle breeze brushed past me, as if she were softly caressing my cheek. Standing up, I wiped my tears dry and walked out of the cemetery without looking back. Three months later, the graduation tour of Janswick Arts Academy finally took place. Daniel's dance company had welcomed a new principal dancer, a girl who had spent ten years quietly practicing in that same rehearsal room, never once complaining, even when the soles of her shoes wore through. She had no connections, no resources. All she had was a burning passion. I watched from the VIP section as she danced in a plain white dress, no rhinestones, no haute couture.

"I'll go talk to her right now. I am sure I'll get a date." "Okay then." He answered sarcastically. "Just wait and see." I said and walked up to her with plenty confidence. "Hi. I am Tony Caraballo. Owner of the gym. But you can call me Ballo." I said smoothly, a grin on my face. "I am Camilla Rúiz." She replied with a small smile. She had a really thick latina accent. "Nice to meet you, Camilla. So I was wondering if I can get your number and call you sometime."

The door of the bathroom flew open, what I first saw was a white skin, fragile white legs on a pair of slippers. I looked up and found a towel wrapped about the body from the waist to the two knees. I was sure this mustn't be a lady because a lady would definitely not wrap a towel from her waist but instead from her chest. Then my eyes moved slowly upwards, I saw... packs...six packs...well set and arranged. I saw a muscular body, then I lifted my eyes up...I saw... a pretty man. His dark oily hair fell slightly on his forehead giving him the cute appearance of a young high school boy. His sideburns and flirting eyelashes with light but tiny pink lips can make any lady crawl into his bed wit

Elena frowned at the sheer amount, but I caught the flicker of admiration in her eyes. "Oh! My goodness, is that the ballerina?" An elderly woman cried as I opened the back door for Elena. "That’s the ballerina from the magazine!" Three older women with arms loaded with shopping bags gawked at her, and Elena turned red as a tomato. "Yes! She’s the Prima Ballerina of New York," another confirmed. They scuttled toward her, excitement spilling from them. Elena’s face was quickly obscured by a mask, and I couldn’t read her expressions anymore but I could feel the tension in the air. Their excitement drew a small crowd who watched in awe.