This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18.
*****
I’ve had a lot of sex. A lot. As a straight man in the theatre world I’ve had my choice of the ladies in most shows; married, single, older, younger. Dancers, ahh…the flexibility and athleticism…singers…they know how to use their mouths and breath.
This particular story begins about 8 years ago. I had been substituting at a local high school. My wife was back in grad school, and I needed to make some extra money. With my background, the district asked if I would help direct the high school show. I agreed, as the money was good and the pool of talent was reasonably sized and passionate. I chose the show with the drama club, and we were off to the races.
I was 30 at the time. Having performed quite a bit I was in exceptional shape, and my last gig had been on a cruise in the Caribbean, so I was tan as well. It became apparent that most of the high school girls had a crush on me, but they were kids. Even the 18 year olds looked like kids…until auditions.
Auditions were held on a rainy night, and I was packing up after everyone had sung their songs and done their cold readings. I heard the door to the auditorium creak open, and I turned, seeing a completely drenched young woman curiously peeking around.
“Here to audition?” I asked.
I must have taken her by surprise, for she let out a little yelp, then answered, “My car broke down. I just ran a mile.”
“Yikes,” I replied. “If you want to dry off and get your bearings, I’m in no rush.”
She seemed relieved, and said she’d be right back, flashing an amazing dimpled smile and leaving the way she came in. That smile. Wow.
She returned from her locker with a towel (she was on the swim team), and filled out the paperwork. I was writing notes on other people’s audition cards until she finished, and I sat down at the piano to play for her. She was incredible. Easily the best I had heard all night. I also got a chance to fully see her, on stage, selling it. Her body was toned and tanned, like mine. Her hair, now drying, had lazy curls and it hung to the middle of her back.
“Why aren’t you in the drama club?” I asked, and looked at her card. Her name was Carly. A senior.
“…Nerds,” she replied. “Just kidding,” and flashed that smile again. Her eyes sparkled. “I was until this year. I am trying to load up on different experiences for college applications. Some things had to go.”
Over the course of the show Carly and I grew to have quite a sarcastic, flirtatious relationship. We hit it off, you could say. While I found her attractive, she was still a student. I was also fucking the music director (a 40 year old married woman named Mary…who loved it on the piano) most nights, and my wife once a week (because the marriage rumors are true), Pendik Escort so I never really had desire rule my life.
After the show was over, she and I became friends on Facebook, and I thought it would be alright because I would probably never see her again. I could keep up with her, and she could keep up with me. Nothing more.
She graduated, and was accepted to a prestigious east coast school. End of story. Or so I thought.
My wife had found out through a friend that a local theatre was doing one of my favorite shows, and she let me know about auditions. I decided to do the show. At the first read through, I walk into the auditorium and who should be there, but Carly. She ran up to me and gave me a hug.
We caught up while we waited for rehearsal to start. She glowed. As introductions were made, I noticed that the rehearsal accompanist, choreographer, music director, and artistic director were all male.
I was in trouble.
The first week of rehearsal Carly was always by my side. We only knew each other, so it was natural for us to cling to each other. We would chat when we weren’t needed on stage, and I came to find out a lot about her. She had dated several guys briefly in school, and was still a virgin. She offered that information. I didn’t ask.
We grew much closer throughout the show and the production went well. Her 18 year old body was incredible. She was tight in all the right places. Nearly as tall as me, her thighs were delectable. Her chest wasn’t huge, but it was a perfect handful, or so I guessed.
At the final show, Carly asked if I could give her a ride home after the cast party that evening. Shit. “Of course.”
After the party wound down, we walked to the car and she put her arm in mine. “This has been my favorite summer,” she said.
“It’s been pretty great,” I agreed. “You’re a wonderful young woman who is going to devastate all the college boys,” I added with a chuckle. What was I doing?
“I can’t believe how great you were in the show. I just sat in the wings and watched you every time you sang,” she said, with big doe eyes and the dimples screaming at me.
“Well, it’s been a dream role.”
We got in the car and she told me how to get to her place. Her tiny skirt rode up her incredible thighs. I hadn’t had sex in a week.
“Tom,” she said, “I have a confession: I did the show because I knew you were doing it.”
“Really? That’s sweet.”
“I had such a great time in the high school show,” and with that, she put her hand on my leg.
I didn’t reply. I wanted to see where she was going. I knew she was still a virgin, after all. I didn’t want to make out with someone and go home with blue balls.
After a pause, she added “I had such a crush on you.”
“Had?” I asked.
“Have,” Anadolu Yakası Escort she said, and looked lasers into my eyes.
“Yeah, right.” I said. “You don’t want some 30 year old guy.”
“I’m serious,” she said, and hit my leg.
“Too bad I’m married.”
“That didn’t stop you from fucking Mary. I forgot my script in the theatre once. I came back to get it and saw you giving it to her pretty good…like in a porn.”
I was actually shocked. One that she had seen me, and two that she watched porn enough to know what it was.
“So strong,” she added. “I watched the whole time. Couldn’t stop touching myself.”
Adding to my shock.
“Well,” I said, trying to collect myself, “good thing you’re a virgin.”
“I’m not, actually.”
Shit.
“…what?”
“Yeah, after that day, I realized that I was really sexual. I wanted to be Mary.” She began stroking my thigh. “I wanted you to be fucking me. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to be good enough in that department for you if I didn’t get some practice, so I started having sex with one of the wrestlers a few weeks ago, and I’ve been watching a lot of porn. He was ok. But he isn’t as big as you, or as passionate.” On the last word she found my 8 inches, which had been growing through her monologue.
I had had enough.
“Prove it,” I said, returning the laser look she had given me just moments ago.
She didn’t miss a beat. Her hand found the zipper of my jeans and her hot breath was on my cock in moments. Her gorgeous hair was cascading down into my lap, and within seconds, she was engulfing my dick all the way into her throat. She was moaning and stroking, grabbing my balls. I reached over to her ass and pulled up her skirt. A thong. This girl was incredible.
I pulled the thong aside and began toying with her pussy. She began to wimper but diligently sucked in a perfect rhythm. Finally, I inserted my middle finger to the hilt and she let out a gasp. “Finger my pussy, baby. Get me home. My parents are at a wedding.”
She made me cum and swallowed every last drop by the time we arrived at her place. She had an orgasm as well, just as we were pulling in. She gave an evil laugh and said “I can’t believe it” as we were walking to her door. She opened the house and we were passionately kissing as soon as it closed. She hopped into my arms to grind on me and I carried her to the couch. The streetlights provided enough light for us but it was dim enough for anyone to peek in. She rode me fully clothed for a few moments, but then began peeling off her shirt and bra.
I couldn’t get enough of her nipples. I feasted. She came again dry humping me as I licked and nibbled her breasts. I knew I was good for quite a while. I stripped her all the way down, and saw what is İstanbul Escort still, to this day, the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen. She had shaved the majority of it but left a little landing strip. I picked her up and laid her down on the couch, and kissed down her body. I spent extra time on her legs, her knees, her ankles. I teased her by getting achingly close to her vagina, breathing on it, letting my lips brush over her clit, but never fully engaging. When she was quivering, I gave her a release. I gave her a tongue lashing that we both still talk about today. We belonged to each other. She incited a passion in me that I didn’t know existed.
She came hard, screaming my name and God’s, begging me to fuck her. I obliged. In one motion I picked her up and set her on my cock, fucking her against the wall as she held on for dear life. After a few minutes of pure ramming, I set her down and she instinctively turned around. I entered her from behind hard and fast. She screamed “yes” repeatedly and I gave her everything I had. As she came for a fourth time, she somewhat collapsed onto the wall. I held her up. I knew we weren’t finished. She turned and kissed me deeply. Then she kissed down to my dick and began to slowly suck it, looking up at me the whole time. The eyes never broke contact.
When she was ready to go again, she led me upstairs to a bathroom. She started the shower and while it was getting to the right temperature, she sucked me some more. We cleansed each other slowly and erotically, kissing whenever our mouths were close enough.
She whispered in my ear “make love to me, Tom. Make me yours.”
She put one leg up on the bathtub ledge and gave me access to her dripping pussy. I slowly entered her this time. I held her. I explored her body as I slowly pulled out and pushed back into her. I played with her nipples, her lips. I held her thighs to me as she sucked on my finger.
This was unlike the sex I was accustomed to. It was truly making love. Once I realized that, I didn’t last long. I told her that I was going to come, and she told me that she wanted me to come with her. We came hard, kissing—no, sucking each other’s tongues, her long legs wrapped around me. We were both shaking as we came down from orgasm, holding onto each other for dear life.
I knew I should go home, but I had no choice in the matter. I fell asleep next to her. I couldn’t go anywhere else. In the morning, she straddled me and we made love one last time. It lasted for over an hour. Not a word was spoken.
I collected my things, trying to brainstorm which lie I would tell to my wife. Before I left, we kissed as we had so many times the night before, and she asked, “When can I see you again?”
“Whenever you want,” I replied.
She smiled. Those dimples. Her eyes.
We had so much sex for the remaining three weeks of that summer. She went off to school and we would get together at holidays and during the summers after. She is married now, to some well-to-do businessman, but fortunately, it’s in the same town that I live in, and we do so many productions together.