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I used to think that nothing beats a good storm for staying indoors and making love. I have upgraded that to nothing beats a good storm when stranded in a theatre with a delicious man.
We had just finished with a demanding rehearsal of Hamlet, and I was pretty much packed up and ready to go. Other than the leading man, Hamlet himself, everybody else had already left. We were just saying our goodbyes when we heard a ferocious pounding of rain on the theater’s roof. I peeked outside. There was no way I was going to make the long dash to my car.
Hamlet joined me, shaking his head and complaining how the pay for a lowly theatre actor forced him to use the bus, and by now, he had missed the last one home. I offered to give him a ride if the rain ever lets up enough.
We retreated backstage, but left the stage door open to watch and listen to the rhythmic sounds of the storm. After a while, it became obvious we were going to be trapped for some time, so we decided to play dress up with the theater’s costumes.
At first we both used the folding screens to change, but after several changes, we just stripped down in front of each other. It got quite silly, and we were laughing hard, and seeing who could change faster.
I was just stripping off a clown costume when I broke the front clasp on my bra, and out popped my two girls, with nipples proud and stiff. Talk about your awkward moments.
It is amazing how many thoughts the brain can process in a nano second. The first reaction is to cover up, but in that same split second, my brain went through a million scenarios, from sheer embarrassment to passionate love, and every option in between.
That moment was shattered when Hamlet muttered how beautiful my breasts were, followed by a grunt and a groan. I blabbered something about dressing up as Adam and Eve, and in the next few seconds, we were both naked and wrapped in one long embrace. My breasts were pressed against his chest, and I was well aware his penis was coming to life.
Hamlet lay me down in the pile of discarded costumes, then just stood there, gazing at me like some noble conquistador. His sword, however, was a meaty hunk of love I would gladly be impaled with.
I opened my legs and motioned for him to join me. He knelt between my legs, with his knees on either side of my hips, and his penis resting against my vulva. He then leaned forward and cradled, sucked and devoured my breasts. I kept trying to get him in me, but he backed away each time, making me mad with desire.
He spent a lot of time up top, and I was beginning to worry everything below the belt would be going without. Finally he started kissing my ribs, my belly and around my navel before moving south. I was expecting lots of gentle pussy kisses, so I nearly jumped out of my skin when he dragged his tongue across my clit, then bit down. It hurt a little, but it also sent an electric shock through my pussy, and unleashed a buttery squirt of girl giz that undoubtedly left a tell-tale wet spot.
‘Ol Hamlet turned out to be quite a lover of pussy. Not in a ‘gotta get me some’ kinda way, but how a man might savour the best haute cuisine has to offer: a taste, a nibble, and then a swirl on his tongue to discern the subtle flavours and aromas. Far too many men just munch away like they are cleaning carpets or something. Not Hamlet.
I felt pretty helpless. There really isn’t much one can do when under the spell of so much pleasure, other than make sure your pussy is served up warm and willing.
Hamlet gave me another delicious cum before he lie down and pull me on top. I wasted no time getting his cock inside me, and giving him a fuck of thanks for the splendid tongue bath. Even while fucking he was measured and gentlemanly. He knew when to cup my breasts, knew when to grab my hips, and knew when to tickle my ass.
What he really wanted was for me to have one of those orgasms that can fill a champagne flute. He brought me to the brink several times, but never allowed me to finish. I fought his grip, but he was too powerful, and he kept me pinned on his cock until my clitoris calmed down. Six times he did this, and I didn’t know whether to be furious or grateful.
When he finally did let me cum, I was nothing but grateful.
I started humping him again, and knew I was close. I tried to hide it, to sneak one past him, but any man paying attention knows the pre-spasms of a pussy only mean one thing. To my surprise, he didn’t stop me this time. He waited until my eyes were closed and my fists in a ball, then quickly pulled me off his penis and onto his waiting lips. When I released all that pent up pleasure milk, he got a mouthful – exactly what he had wanted and what he had been working me towards.
I knew of nothing else other than the pleasure. The world simply did not exist.
When I finished, I rolled off and collapsed into the heaped costumes. Things slowly came back into focus. I felt a nudge and push, and looked between my legs to see Hamlet kissing the insides of my very wet thighs. He then did as before, placing his knees on either side of my hips, but this time he sunk into me, deep as he could go, and then just knelt there, motionless, gazing at my breasts.
He asked me to fuck myself against him. I was a little nervous at first, so he placed my hand on my pussy, and gave my hips a few starter pushes to set the rhythm. It felt too good to let shyness get in the way, so I wrapped my feet behind his back to push and pull myself on his cock, and then diddled my very pink and very sensitive clit.
There I was, jerking myself off on him while he watched. My breasts danced and jiggled, my fingers ground my clit into my pubis, and my legs made double time to keep this ‘toy’ moving fast and deep.
It was his turn. I could see it, sense it. I moved faster for him, essentially giving him a blow job with my pussy. When he came, he never moved, never thrust his hips. He just knelt there being pleasured. I loved it. For the first time, I realized, I had fucked a man. My thrusts, my rhythm.
He took a few deep breaths and pulled out, then lay by my side. We cuddled a few moments, and pretty much simultaneously noticed the rain had stopped. Didn’t matter. We were settled in for the night right there, with the door open and the cool air soothing my tired but satiated body.
My hope was we could have another romp before the sun came up, and other people started arriving for morning rehearsals. My mind was already planning and scheming how to fuck him again. My thrusts, and my rhythm.
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A.W.
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