Last Rehearsal by LandFalcon,LandFalcon

Even though Janet and I had previously dated for several months, the relationship had cooled on my side as I had began dating Robin.

Robin and I had become pretty serious and both stopped sleeping with others and were talking about moving in together.

The promiscuous scene within our theater group actually promoted this kind of interaction. And there were lots of strange cross currents going on throughout our work together on and off stage.

Janet was wild and selfish. A lot of fun, but a lot of emotional maintenance. Robin was sweet and nurturing. Unlike any woman I had met to date, she inspired me to be a better person in all areas. I was nearing 30 and maybe it was time to grow up. I was looking forward to being the man she saw in me.

Janet and I were doing a scene from Sam Shepard’s “Cowboy Mouth” for an upcoming agent’s showcase. The scene involved a fight that comes out of attempted love making. Our theater group was turning heads in LA and we were getting a lot of attention.

We had put the entire play up the year before, long prior to Robin entering my life. Our creative director, Connie, had liked our work and she wanted one of the scenes in the showcase.

Janet and I brushed it off and chose the most volatile scene in the play.

So far, we had stayed within boundaries with Connie attending most rehearsals, giving suggestions here and there, getting us dialed in for maximum impact without the full construct of the play to drive us.

Connie knew of the tensions between Janet and I and felt that we were still holding back in our characters. She suggested various improvs to start our rehearsals and began showing up less and less.

Two days before the showcase, this would be our last rehearsal. Working alone in the theatre we try several different improvisational approaches to the tension in the scene, all of it exacerbated by the tension we brought from the end our sexual relationship.

One of Connie’s improvs was to explore the softer side of Slim and Cavale’s relationship with some kissing and hugging, not simply tear into the argument.

We begin a run through, kissing on the futon used as a bed or couch depending on the scene. The kissing is a brief prelude to the dialogue but our temperatures keep rising and the scene becomes confused as Slim and Cavale get twisted up with Pete and Janet.

The guardrails disappear as the nurturing hugging and kissing burn into desire.

Fully clothed, I am now lying between her legs. We are dry humping each other and kissing deeply, wetly. Janet tries to mark my neck with a hickey. She had a real proclivity for neck sucking. In our group, that large mouth shaped blood bruise was a sign that you had been with her.

Janet’s hickey’s used to drive me wild, but Robin will see it and I pull away, holding her wrists by her side.

Still aroused, I lean back in to kiss her. Teeth gnashing, she hisses at me and I pull away.

“Ha! You are scared of me! ……………………But you want me” she pushes me away, sits up and tears her shirt off, her breasts swinging free.

We have stepped out of Connie’s directions entirely and I am torn between desire and turning away, ending this, demanding we get back to the work.

Kneeling in front of me she squeezes her nipples and laughs. Then standing, she steps out of her skirt, leaving only a pair of silk panties with small pearl beads running from the waist band, down the center line of her pussy.

The panties are wet. She stands there, over me, hands on hips, daring me. I bury my face in her panties, smelling her and working the beads onto her clit and then between her lips. Her hand at the back of my head, she pushes me into her.

I grab her behind her knees and yank her legs out from under her. She hits the futon hard, but quickly comes upright, hands flailing. Catching me off balance, she forces me onto my back.

Our open mouths meet and confirm that she is right, I want her right now more than sense allows, our tongues intertwined as we grind against each other. “Oh Slim, come on, you know what I like.”

By now, I am struggling with my belt buckle and the buttons of my jeans, trying to free my cock. She takes over and finishes what I started, first pulling my boots off and then both legs of my jeans in one movement

Before I can get to my t shirt, she climbs onto me, grabs the collar with both hands and rips it down the middle.

She then grabs the remaining shirt by the shoulders and pulls them halfway down my back so they are pinioning my elbows as she pushes on my chest leaving me unable to rise or move my arms.

As I lie there helpless, she leans down and begins sucking one of my nipples while riding my belly — I can feel her wetness through the panties and it is driving me crazy. She keeps calling me Slim and I am having a hard time distinguishing between Janet and the character Cavale in the play we are supposed to be working on.

“Watch me Slim, watch me!”, she jumps off me and stands back, dancing to music only she hears. Her movements are slow and sinuous as she makes love to her body. Bending at the waist, hair hanging to the floor, she slowly rises, caressing her right leg with both hands, sliding them up over her calf and then her knee.

She then moves one hand to the other thigh and they rise together, sliding up to and over her panties.

Each hand takes a side of her waist band and she begins pulling the panties up, very slowly. By this time, the wet stain has spread and as she pulls, the silk folds into itself and rises up between her lips.

Cavale is not waxed, not shaved, but her hair is blonde, fine and sparse, so her lips are on full display as she moves her hands to front and back positions on the waist band.

She now pulls from the back, dragging the row of pearls down into her slit, the waistband in the front so low that I can see the top of her light pubic bush.

She then reverses the pull, the line of beads rising from inside her. She quivers a bit as they hit her clit, hidden under the cloth and she immediately reverses, then pulls it up again, rocking the beads hard against her clit, the stain on her panties growing with each stroke.

Her head is now thrown back, veins are standing out on her forearms, and the panties are stretched taught as she savagely rakes them through her cunt, squatting as she does so, bringing them ever deeper into herself.

This Bitch! This fucking tease ……… first Cavale kidnaps me, then makes me believe I can do anything and now when I want to go off with another woman she pulls this shit on me. Oh, my god I want her. Right now I want her more than anything else.

I watch as she pleasures herself, jealous of her hands, jealous of her freedom, her ability to lose herself in front of me, …………. But as I watch, her snake like movements become even more violent, more frantic and her lust seems to turn to frustration as she begins manically running the fabric deeper into herself in a berserk frenzy.

I jump to my feet and move toward her, her movements becoming so savage that I fear she may hurt herself. With both hands, she pulls at the front triangle of her panties, brutally pulling the fabric high, almost lifting her onto her toes.

Finally, as the seams give way, she almost falls over backwards at the immediate release of tension, her hands holding two wet strips of silk. Her labia are hanging open, raw and abused, but her clitoris is fully engorged, showing her complete arousal.

She stops and lunges forward, her fingers tearing at me as I step back and hold her at arms length.

And in an instant, she transforms yet again. She leans against me gasping for air.

“Oh, Slim, why did you make me hurt myself like that? Why do you want to leave me?”

And like that, I change too, I want to hold her, nurture her and care for my Cavale. She leans into me and I gently lower her onto our bed.

Her forehead is drenched in sweat, her lips are dry. I shed my torn shirt and mop her forehead with it. She reaches up and caresses my cheek, “Please don’t leave me.” And pulls my head down to hers. Her dry lips scratch across my cheek. I purse my lips and dribble my spit onto her lips, working it across them with my tongue.

“Oh Slim, breathe into me, give me your life.”

I love my fragile Cavale, weaver of wonderful dreams for both of us. I need to be strong for her.

I open my mouth across hers and seal myself onto her face, breathing myself into her. She inhales and I feel myself being sucked into her.

She puts both hands behind my head, holding me tight as she then exhales her lungs into mine. She goes from my child to my mother and I know I need her, only she can bind my wounds.

She works her way down my body and takes me in her mouth.

Kneeling between my legs, she begins wrapping the strips of wet silk around my cock and balls as she continues sucking up and down on me.

Drool hanging from her lips she looks up at me with a fierce sneer and pulls the silk tight, cinching it against my cock on top, and my perineum under my balls. As it reduces my blood flow, veins stand out on my shaft and my crown swells to a dark purple.

“I hurt my pussy for you, now you are going to hurt too.”

Even with the threat spoken, I don’t move, she is my wounded bird and I will do anything for her.

Following her drool back down to my cock, she forces her tongue into my piss hole, twirling it as she lowers her mouth around me. I close my eyes in ecstasy as she resumes sucking me while torturing my urethra.

I feel her swap her mouth for her hand and relax into her stroking me, her finger, playing with my slit.

Suddenly, I feel real pain and look down to see her running the section of silk with the pearl appliques back and forth across my crown, into the slit of my penis

She has a wild look on her face, reveling in my pain, raking the beads through me, deeper and harder.

“Cavale, you insane bitch.” I lever my legs around her arms and torso and roll up off my back.

She is laughing crazily. “Come fuck me Slim, take our hurts away.”

But she doesn’t make it easy, clawing and punching at me. I subdue her, but then she kicks me full in the stomach, almost knocking the wind out of me.

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