“Bring him in.”
The couch spud opened the door and then stood aside as muscle man pushed me into the room.
“You want us to stay?” he said.
“No. Leave us,” the most wonderful voice in the world answered. “I can handle him.”
I closed the door behind me and turned to catch Amanda in my arms.
“You’ve got some serious explaining to do,” she said after a long and passionate kiss.
“What? A guy’s not allowed to go to the theatre?”
“Not after a year and a half. That’s how long it’s been since I left Mrs. B’s house. And not once did you come see me perform.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I look for you every performance and check with the box office for any tickets sold to a Mrs. Bancroft.”
“Is that how you found me tonight? There’s got to be more than one woman named Bancroft in London.”
“I had a friend sneak up into the rafters during the intermission with theatre glasses and a picture of you. ‘Middle section, fourth row back,’ she told me. By far the best-looking man in the house.”
“So why the drama with the security goons? Couldn’t they just tell me that ‘Miss Amanda Zimmerman, the star of the show, requests your presence in her dressing room?'”
“I wanted to see if you’d run.”
“Run. What man in his right mind would run away from an invitation to spend time with you?”
“Maybe the man who poisoned Lily Langford to help an old friend get a break. Come on. I don’t see you for eighteen months and the first time Lily gets sick, you happen to show up. I don’t know exactly what Mrs. B is training you for, but I’d bet a thousand pounds it involves both a cloak and a dagger.”
“Did I mention you were absolutely incredible tonight?” I asked.
“Is your non-answer an admission of guilt?”
“I especially liked the ending of the second act. It brought back memories of what we used to do together.”
“Fine. If you’re not going to answer, at least tell me if she’ll be okay?”
“Who?”
“Lily Langford you dumb ass. Is she going to die?”
“Would you like her to? That would be a fortuitus event for you. Especially after tonight’s performance.”
“If you’re offering to kill Lily so I can further my career, the answer is no. Just tell me if she’s going to recover from whatever you’ve already done to her.”
God I missed Amanda. I missed the way we could talk about anything. I missed helping her learn her lines. Even after a couple of dozen replacement maids, I still missed making love to her. And I missed arguing with her. I know that sounds strange, but every argument we ever had eventually ended with a long kiss followed by the best sex a man could ever want.
“Have you had your shots?” I asked.
“Quit trying to change the subject and tell me if Lily is going to die.”
“Mrs. B insisted I get mine. Especially the flu shot. This year’s flu is supposed to be particularly nasty. Not deadly, but if you get it, you’ll be out of commission for at least a week.”
“You gave her the flu? How the hell do you give someone –?
Amanda pretended to fight the kiss. She put her hands on my chest in a weak attempt to push me away. But her lips remained locked on mine and our tongues danced like the old friends they were. Her robe slipped off her shoulders like the curtain falling on the last act. But in this case, instead of marking the end of a performance, the show was just getting started.
Act one was a slow and sensuous removal of her bra and panties followed by a quick action scene where my clothes magically transferred from my body to a pile on the floor in less than ten seconds. I took a moment to visually soak in the sensuality of her succulent body.
Her breasts, while on the small side, were perfectly shaped with round areolas accenting thimble sized nipples that begged to be sucked. Her waist was so thin I could almost encircle it with the thumb and forefinger of my two hands. The flare of her hips led to slightly exaggerated ass cheeks which, while conveniently sized for grasping, also made the perfect targets for a loving swat. And her pussy … oh my god, her pussy. That petite, smooth, hairless mound — centered at the apex of the best set of thighs you’d ever want to spread — called to me like the Sirens called to Odysseus.
Yes. I wanted to fondle Amanda’s cute little boobs. I yearned to reach around her thin waist and squeeze her ass cheeks in my strong hands. But my fingers, tongue and pecker all needed to be inside her pussy.
Act two started with a demonstration of strength as I slipped my hands around her tiny waist and lifted Amanda’s tantalizing tits to my hungry mouth. I kissed, sucked and licked her sensitive nipples until they swelled to twice their normal size and then gently placed her on a couch … boobs up, butt down. My lips and tongue initially protested when I pulled them off Amanda’s tasty tits but when I started the southward march with a line of kisses down her breastbone, they realized their ultimate destination and only paused for a moment to tickle Amanda’s belly button before arriving at the prize.
I’ve heard it said that the nipples of small breasted women were more sensitive than those attached to Double D udders. I can’t say for sure if that is a scientific fact — although I am more than willing to be a full participant in the study — but Amanda’s response to my titty teasing seemed to prove the theory. When it was time to finally focus my complete attention on her clean-shaven pussy, her sexy slit was more than ready for whatever I had in mind.