The two of us snuck about three more kisses before I was finished with the set. Her hands would wander my body sometimes when she didn’t have to stretch too far, and I was sure we would have gone further with more privacy. We finished up and I managed to get in a quick shower in the dressing room, like a couple of the other grad students, and then we dressed in costume and had a late lunch/early dinner in the theater seats. Then we started putting on the student plays for a last rehearsal. It’s customary for last rehearsal to just do the whole thing like a show, without any stopping, rolling with flubbed lines or bad lights or whatever happens. That’s pretty much what we did.
For my scene with Jill, she must have thought I was possessed. I kissed her like I would have kissed Liz–like I rarely kissed Emily. Even grad student A.J. said he was getting suspicious of the two of us when I stepped off-stage. I made fun of him, hoping to cover up I had my mind on someone else.
The scene with Albert and Liz was a bit of a trainwreck. He did it in his speedo, sprayed down with water to look like he had just gotten out of the shower, and even though he was wearing more than he had originally planned for the scene, he was much more nervous and blowing every third line. Worse than that, the comic timing was all off. In some ways it was believable, certainly awkward, but the good lines were falling flat. Liz should get a medal for participating in the scene, I thought, rather than just some positive marks in her folder. At the end of the skit, they kissed, and for the only time I could remember, I wanted to be Albert.
All of the women students were due on stage for the last number, so they were running lines in the wings as they listened to the last couple of sketches and waited for their cues. Liz had declined to participate in that one, figuring she had enough going on with her scene with Albert. I went over and knocked on the dressing room door, and a student named Fiona was coming out just after I knocked.
“Go on in,” she whispered. “It’s just Liz.”
I went into the dressing room and she smiled when she saw me. Her nerves were still jumping from her scene with Albert, a little sweat covering her forehead. The dressing room was a mirror of the men’s dressing room on the opposite side, with a counter that had several drawers underneath for storing make-up and other properties, a long mirror for hair and make-up, and a few chairs pushed close and awaiting the next actors; on the opposite side of the long room were lockers and hangers, as well as another mirror floor-length mirror for examining full costumes, and at the end of the hall a bathroom that included a shower and a locking door with a prominent sign that reads “DO NOT FLUSH!!! (during shows).” Liz leaned with her butt against the counter as she beckoned me closer with her eyes.
“Lock the door,” she whispered, and I had to backtrack slightly to make sure it was locked. I went right to her without hesitation.
We kissed for seconds. I heard a bellowing voice on the other side of the wall, where the stage was located, almost like someone was yelling at us to stop, but I recognized the voices of one of my students. He liked to broadcast to the backrows. But I’m not sure a command from God Himself could have separated us right then.
I took her in my arms and enjoyed her weight, the curves that were unique to her, her different height than Emily, all of those things I had not yet really experienced. Her breath had a sweetness I thought I could recognize in the dark–even tainted with the taste of Albert’s obnoxious cigars. I sucked on her neck as she ran a hand through my hair.
“Fuck me,” she whispered. Even that made me tremble, as much from its salacious sound as the fear we would be overheard. Her tongue dipped into my ear and rode the rim. I almost choked, then sucked in a breath and nipped her skin with my teeth. “Oh… fuck! Oh, god, fuck me!”
“Shh,” I warned her. “I can’t do that. I can’t. I’m not… I’m not going to… I’m not ready,” I said.
“Please fuck me, baby…”
“C’mon… don’t ask me.” If she kept asking, I would probably fold. How much pressure could a man stand?
When she pushed me back a little, I thought I was being rejected. I wouldn’t blame her for that. I mopped some of the accumulating sweat from my forehead and started to apologize, but I saw Liz staring at me, still full of lust, and she was unbuttoning her shirt. I thought she might insist again, and see me comply. The dress shirt she wore was a yellow-shite, baggy, with pearl-like buttons that she hastened to unfasten. She parted the leaves and revealed her breasts, wrapped in a lacy white bra. After a few seconds of wrestling, she had them spilling over the top. Her nipples were maroon, erect, looking positively sharp. I had to tear my eyes away to look into hers again.
“Stay above the waist then… if you want… but give me a little something?”
I brought my mouth down to taste each wonderful breast, licking, sucking, slobbering on one before moving back to another. I kept one hand alternately cradling and massaging each breast, moving back and forth. She moaned, and I was again worried about how much we could be heard, if not on the stage, then out in the wings.
“I want you so bad,” she cooed. “I want to feel you suck every inch of my body…”
“Yeah… oh my god…”
“I want you to see me naked again… put your own eyes on me… devour me…”
“You’re so sexy… goddammit, I’m hard like a mountain…”
I latched on to one of her breasts and pulled, lifting it, and she gasped until I let it fall again. My free hand rubbed against her ass.
One of her hands slipped into back of my jeans as she directed my head up to kiss her mouth again. Her tongue licked my lips.
“Let me treat you right… please, baby… don’t argue with me…”
When Liz went to her knees, I didn’t object. She had to fight with my dick to get it out of its jeans and underwear, but once it was free, she took it into her mouth. I bit down and held my breath so I wouldn’t give us away. The sounds of her sucking got louder, but I stopped caring.
“Baby… baby…”
I wheezed as I spurted into her mouth, too breathless to apologize for the lack of warning. Liz didn’t get angry, though. She sucked and sucked, licking me to cover any inch she had missed. Her fingers snuck behind my sack and warmed and stroked my balls as her mouth kept a firm grip on my cock. My chest surged with as much love as excitement in that moment. It may have been just sex, but it felt like more.
I had seen glimpses of the man in the mirror behind Liz and a part of me didn’t like him; another part of me knew he had never felt so good as in her care.
Liz stood and kissed me again, and I didn’t pull away from the strange taste. I held her close, relishing the feel of her tits pressed into me.
“I don’t know what we’re doing…”
She didn’t fall into the trap of a more important conversation. Liz, still recovering, whispered, “Right now… we should probably get cleaned up for a curtain call.”