Red Lipstick Whispers

In many ways, the whole thing began many years ago when Lizzie was just another dance student, learning the beautiful art of the female body. She had always been obsessed with movement and her athleticism made that easy.

Like some students, she was enamored with her Instructor. Lizzie had a rough upbringing, so even in her early 20's, she viewed this Instructor as the motherly figure she never had.

This woman was gorgeous too, in her own mature way. Lizzie found herself drawn to that. She grew up poor, and was attracted to the natural grace and elegance that this older woman possessed.

They immediately bonded through a few talks after classes. In very little time, the Instructor took Lizzie under her wing, teaching her how to become a feminine beauty in her own right.

It was a trait which Lizzie wholly embraced.

~~~~~

Now, as she had become the adult she always wanted to be, Lizzie took a break from the dance class. A towel was wrapped around her neck and there was sweat all over her face.

She was a teacher now at a prominent California dance academy. A choreographer for plays and performances. A mentor to girls and women. She was living her dream and it was hard work, which she loved.

After she refreshed herself and dressed for another session, there would come the compliments from her students. Gone was the street girl. They never would have known. Lizzie was reborn as a woman of grace, who worked extremely hard for the dance world.

Her next job for the day was for a private one-on-one session. It was for a woman who had some dance experience and was looking to hone her skills once again. They exchanged correspondence by email for the past few weeks.

Lizzie entered the small dance studio and saw the woman waiting there, dressed in tight spandex and a thin loose sweater.

By her estimation, this woman must have been in her late 40's with a few grey streaks and laugh lines which were proudly displayed. Clearly she had taken care of herself all these years with a healthy diet, moderate exercise, and a skincare routine which Lizzie needed to ask about later. This client was a true mature beauty who held herself with class and high-esteem.

"You're early! I'm Lizzie."

"Marchent."

Both of them smiled and extended their hands as they approached each other. As they shook hands, there was a spark of attraction and they knew it was going to be a wonderful relationship.

"So, ballroom dancing, correct?"

Marchent politely nodded. "Correct. Ballroom dance. I wanted someone who also teaches ballet because I used to do ballet in my youth."

"In other words, we speak the same language of dance," Lizzie smiled.

"Exactly. Plus I want to refine my body in a way that only ballet can provide."

"It's a beautiful form. Is there anything else I should know before we begin our first session?"

"Please take it easy on me," Marchent blushed. "I take good care of myself, but I'm not the woman I once was."

"Are you kidding? I'd kill to look like you at your age. You have to share your secrets with me."

"In due time, my dear," Marchent said with mild flirtation.

They began with ballet warm ups and stretches to loosen up. Lizzie took things slow, and was pleased to see that Marchent was still flexible and in great shape.

Then Lizzie played classical music which she had cued up for them to dance. And dance they did. Marchent was good at this, leaving Lizzie to wonder if these lessons were even necessary.

They held each other close in proper position and locked eyes while they danced, with Lizzie giving pointers along the way. Basic movements; back and forth, side to side.

After an hour, their session ended and they gave each other a playful high-five.

"You move well," Lizzie pointed out. "For our next few sessions, we'll work on sharpening your dance techniques."

They sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall, sipping from their water bottles.

"Thanks. That's what I was hoping to hear. I have a month to dance like a pro again. Well, not literally, but I certainly don't want to make a fool of myself."

"Oh?" Lizzie remarked. "Anything interesting?"

Marchent smiled. "It's a Ball, obviously. I'm being honored there."

"Wow, good for you."

"I know, right? How did I get so lucky in life?"

"May I ask what you're being honored for?" Lizzie inquired.

Marchent flashed a slightly mischievous, yet proud look. "When I was a young woman, fresh from graduating college, I formed a small business with a few friends. It focused on the arts; dance stage acting, modeling, and so forth. Since then it's evolved in ways I could never have imagined. Think of it as an empowerment group."

"Sounds awesome. I love the concept."

"Exactly, and we have some rather unorthodox techniques, but they work! Over the years, we've helped countless women come out of their shells and embrace their identities."

"You definitely deserve to be honored for that, if that's the case."

Marchent gave a modest shrug. "You're quite the young teacher yourself. I've peeked into some of your classes. The students really respect you. That's a wonderful quality. You're blessed."

Ah, the praise Lizzie had always craved, coming from such a respectable woman like Marchent of all people. It filled her with pride and made her blush.

"I try my best."

"You have wonderful attributes," Marchent said, finishing off her water bottle. "You're the type of person I'd recruit in my younger days."

"That's very kind. What do you do now?"

"This and that. I've taken a backseat role with my businesses, so I'm mostly an advisor when it comes to work. I do a lot of charity work, different causes. I enjoy giving back."

Lizzie smiled, "Sounds like you're more blessed than I am."

"Is that so?" Marchent smiled in return. "Maybe I am. But I've always made smart decisions in life, and I've always risen above challenges that have come my way. That's the philosophy I always try to instill in others."

That was it. Lizzie was officially enamored with this graceful woman.

~~~~~

Years ago, when Lizzie was still in her dance troupe, she used to be the shy one in the dressing room. While the other girls threw their tops off, getting naked without a hint of shame, she would quickly cover herself and face the locker.

That was just how she was at the time; a guarded person.

It wasn't until her Instructor shared the same locker area that things changed. It happened when they were all involved in the same performance and the Instructor had a small dance part.

Coincidentally the Instructor's locker was right next to hers. Without a second thought, the Instructor removed her clothes and faced the young Lizzie, while leaning confidently against the locker.

"You've got to stop being so uptight," the naked Instructor said. "You're stunning. So act like it. Show it off. You know the other girls will be jealous of your tits, right? That is, if they ever saw them."

The young Lizzie faced her fear and looked her Instructor straight in the eyes. Without showing any hint of emotion, she reached back to unclasp her bra, showing off those precious little breasts of hers. Her small pink nipples instantly turned hard.

Naturally, the Instructor smiled, and young Lizzie kept her shoulders broad.

"Just as I suspected," the Instructor praised. "A quality package with lovely tits. Dance the way you look and feel, and you'll be going places."

"Thank you."

Lizzie's voice nearly squeaked. She mustered all her false confidence as her Instructor so brazenly looked over her breasts, noticing her nipples harden further. Then tension left when the Instructor went back to getting dressed.

~~~~~

Now, Lizzie awoke in her small downtown apartment and dragged herself out of bed. She made coffee while checking her phone messages.

Then she got a text from Marchent. At this point, they'd already been working with each other for two weeks and their work relationship had evolved into something far more casual.

Marchent's text read: What are you doing this morning? Free to accompany me shopping? I need a ballroom outfit. I'll treat you to lunch after

Lizzie's teaching schedule was free that morning, which Marchent already knew.

The answer was easy.

Sure! When? Where?

They met an hour later at a place called "RLB," which she later learned meant 'Red Lipstick Boutique.' It was a cozy little place that seemed to cater to a more upscale clientele. The place had just opened for the day and no one else was there.

She came to learn to learn that Marchent was close friends with the manager, and was even part owner of the business.

Once things were settled, they went to work, looking through the small assortment of ballroom clothes available. They went to the backroom dressing area together, where Marchent undressed.

Marchent didn't get fully naked. Just down to her bra and panties. Her body had aged naturally, and it was clear that she used to be rather athletic at some point; with arms that were still toned, shapely thighs, a mildly curved midsection, and breasts that formed sizable globes.

"Not bad for a soccer mom, right?" Marchent gestured to herself after noticing that Lizzie had been gazing a little too long.

"Not bad for any age. You're a dream."

"And you're flattering me, which, to be fair, I encouraged you to."

Marchent wore the dress and accessories that Lizzie had helped to pick out. It was valuable input too, since Lizzie had all sorts of experience with dance attire and how things should look in any sort of setting.

They both marveled at the finished product. Marchent looked like a movie star the way she glowed and gave a twirl in the gown.

"It's settled," Marchent said with a smile on her face.

"What is? The outfit?"

"The outfit too. But I was referring to our relationship. You see, I'd like to think that I'm an expert in human behavior. I was even a psychology major in college, and I almost became a therapist. I've always had a knack for the human mind, and I've used that talent to train all my former employees, building a successful company in the process."

Lizzie gave a purposely playful and confused look. "What are you alluding to?"

"Don't try to deny it. You've been eyeing me since we first met. And that only grew when we got to know each other better. When I undressed a moment ago, well, let's just say that it wasn't your first time admiring women. I can tell."

Lizzie blushed and was still confused. "I don't know what to say. You've caught me totally off guard."

"Tell me your fantasy," Marchent said, inching forward. "I'll make it come true."

"Are you serious?"

Of course this woman was serious. And that frightened Lizzie in an exciting sort of way. Everyone has their fantasies. Lizzie certainly had hers.

But shouldn't some fantasies remain fantasies? Isn't that the appeal? To have fun little thoughts which you'd never do in real life?

"I'm always serious," Marchent said. "You seemed delighted with the whole ballroom thing since I first mentioned it. Maybe that's your fantasy? To be spoiled in a luxurious setting, wearing your finest outfit, people admiring your finesse and dance, then being swept away romantically afterwards?"

Yes, it sort of was. But she couldn't just admit that right away. It was far too embarrassing.

"I think it's exciting," Lizzie replied. "I love the class and sophistication of it all. I've always enjoyed coaching ballroom dance."

"Then it's settled."

Lizzie's eyebrow rose. "Oh?"

"You can be my date."

"Your date? For the ballroom dance?"

"Oh yes," Marchent nodded. "My delicious young date for the night. How about it?"

Lizzie was flabbergasted for a moment. Hell yes she was interested. But really? She was surprised she was being asked.

"Are you sure?" Lizzie asked.

"Now I'm sure. I've wanted to ask you for the past few days. But I wasn't certain if you'd be interested or not. That was, until I saw you eyeing me in my bra. Then I knew."

A sudden thought struck Lizzie like a smack to the head. It left her puzzled and surprised at the same time.

"Wait a second. How would you know... I mean... what makes you think that I'm ... you know... that I swing that way? That'd I'd be a date for a ballroom event?"

Marchent shook her head. "Haven't you listened to a word I've been saying for the past two weeks. I specialize in the women business. It's what I do."

"So you think I'm a..."

Marchent put a finger on Lizzie's lips. "I'm not a fan of labels. We're both grown ups and we can do as we wish. Let's leave it at that."

The finger was removed and Lizzie still had much to say. A flurry of thoughts came to mind. She just had to pick which thought she'd indulge first.

"Okay, fine. But still, how would this work? Are you just going to introduce me as your dance instructor? Wouldn't that be weird for us?"

"You're right. Which is why we have to create a new identity for you."

Lizzie smiled, "A new identity, eh?"

"Oh yes," Marchent nodded. "Whatever you want. Do you want to play my sexy young girlfriend?"

"Hmmm...that might be hard to pull off. And much too forced. Also, it'll seem suspicious if we weren't seen together afterwards."

"Then how about my best friend's adult daughter?" Marchent smiled. "Great way for us to meet right? Though a tad bit inappropriate if you ask me."

Lizzie laughed. "You're right. We should skip that."

A thought came to Marchent, and she gave a deliberately slow pause, like she had just found the definitive answer.

"Oh, I know."

"What is it? Tell me!"

Marchent licked her lips. "You could be my protégé. Just think, I could introduce you as the woman I hand selected to train. That would add an air of mystery to you. People would be fascinated."

"This seems wrong, yet oh-so right."

"Ethically speaking, who cares? It's for fun."

"Right," Lizzie nodded.

"But that leaves us with one small dilemma."

"Which is?"

"You need a dress," Marchent stated. "And since we're here, we might as well make full use of our time. I'll buy it for you. My treat. That way we can match."

"A dress like yours?"

"What else?"

Lizzie gulped. "But that dress costs..."

"Nonsense. Price is no issue amongst friends."

"You're a woman of many surprises."

"That I am," Marchent replied. "And that's a good thing too, because you seem to like surprises."

They called the manager to the dressing room and asked for more gowns which would suit Lizzie's slender size. The manager returned with a few assortments hanging on a rack.

When the manager left, Marchent raised an eyebrow.

"Don't be shy. You've seen me. Now it's my turn to see you."

Lizzie blushed. "Fair is fair."

She casually undressed and put her clothes on a nearby chair. All those years of undressing in the locker room made this feel natural to Lizzie, but it was one thing to undress alongside other women of the same status, and something else entirely to undress with a commanding woman like Marchent watching.

"That dress has a part down the middle," Marchent pointed out. "You'll have to go braless."

Lizzie stood in her bra and panties, her dancer's frame on full display, and she felt compelled to play this game.

"Well then, I have to make sure this dress fits properly."

She reached back and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Lizzie's small nipples were hard now.

Marchent stepped forward, her eyes wandering all over Lizzie's breasts. For a second, Lizzie wondered if Marchent was going to touch her. Instead, Marchent reached down and hooked a finger inside Lizzie's panties.

"These will have to go as well," Marchent said, giving the panties a slight tug. "Otherwise, we won't be able to gauge your full beauty in any of these gowns. Did I mention that this store doesn't allow returns?"

"So we'll have to make sure I buy the right one, won't we?"

"That's correct. What's it going to be?"

Lizzie slid her fingers inside her panties and pulled them down. Their eyes were locked.

"I'm naked now," Lizzie said, awkwardly stating the obvious with a virginal-like innocence. "Which dress should I try on first?"

"Actually, I like you better like this. I think I'm going to keep you naked for a while."

Marchent made the first move. A bold one. She leaned in and kissed Lizzie full on the mouth, her hands reaching up to roll each of those pink nipples between her fingers.

It had been many years since Lizzie had kissed another woman, so this was a much welcomed treat. But she was certain that Marchent was used to this. Marchent kissed her as if this were a casual occurrence. She admired the ease with which Marchent was able to slip her tongue inside her mouth, deepening the kiss.

"Can I make you cum?" Marchent asked after pulling her mouth away, while keeping her hands on Lizzie's breasts. "I've wanted to do that since the moment we first met."

"I thought you'd never ask."

Marchent reached below and cupped Lizzie's pussy. "But you have to promise to return the favor."

"Funny, I've wanted to do that since the moment we met as well."

"Looks like we both have extraordinary taste."

Marchent plunged her finger inside, causing Lizzie's eyes to roll back. The fingers worked back and forth, in and out.

When Marchent used her free hand to lift her dress, Lizzie reached down and returned the favor as promised, slipping two fingers inside the older woman's pussy.

As they kissed and fingered each other, Lizzie noticed, through the corner of her eye, that the store manager was peeking in, watching their naughty show.

Lizzie and Marchent both came on each other's fingers while kissing, and the store manager smiled from behind a curtain.

~~~~~

They grabbed lunch at a nearby place and took their food to a park bench, where they'd have all the privacy and relaxation to dive into these newfound topics of discussion.

"I started the organization because of something that happened when I was in college," Marchent said, after finishing off her tuna sandwich. "It was with a former professor of mine. A female professor."

Lizzie's eyebrow rose. "Really? I mean, in that sort of way?"

"Yes, in that way. Keep in mind that this was over two decades ago, and this sort of relationship was still extremely taboo. Both of us would have been ruined if word got out. But in hindsight, I suppose that was part of the excitement of it all."

"You have my undivided attention," Lizzie replied, clinging to every word.

Marchent took a sip of her coffee. "I loved being a student. At that age, my whole life was school and dance classes. I was also a huge teacher's pet, which came from my upbringing of always respecting authority figures. Anyway, she invited me to her home so I could use her vast collection of psychology books since I was in the process of writing a massive research paper. Keep in mind, this was before the internet."

"Was she single at the time?"

"Actually, her husband was another professor mine," Marchent smiled. "He taught literature. He approved of my invitation. In fact, every time I came over to study, he would have this excited look on his face, and had some excuse as to why he had to leave."

"Oh my," Lizzie playfully gasped. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"I didn't realize it at the time, since I was too naive to understand, but they planned it all along."

"To share you?"

Marchent shook her head. "Just for her. She had been interested in me, it turned out. And her husband approved. I suppose it was his fantasy too."

At this point, Lizzie's lips slightly curled. It was so obvious that she was in a hot mood.

"How long before it happened?"

"It took a few visits. I never understood why she seemed so nervous whenever I'd visit, until she finally made the move. Her seduction, so to speak."