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My mobile screen read 3:24pm across the digital screen. Annoyed that rehearsal was only half way done, I shoved the offending object back in my black shoulder bag. I picked up my script again, flipped through to act two and rested the open binder on the neglected ballet bar, taking the brute weight of it. I knew my lines, having memorized them before the table reads began. However, the presence of a certain handsome costar, my lack of sleep (because of said costar), and my scattered hormones (yeah, also because of said costar), the remnants of my mushed up brain couldn’t focus on the job.
"Exactly twelve hours ago, you were in my bed,” an all too familiar voice whispered behind me. “Woke you with my fingers for another go, and you were already wet for me." I glanced up at the mirror before me, into his intensely arousing gaze. Most of the cast, from scanning the mirrored wall quickly, were working on blocking for a big party scene. Tom’s and my characters didn’t join until later, so we had some down time. Tom seized the opportunity to tease me.
Instantly that ache deep inside was begging for attention. He noticed my scan of the room, and smiled wickedly. “No one’s listening. They don’t need to know,” he tilted his head in that general direction, “that I fucked you into the mattress in the wee hours of the morning.”
My skin flushed red as goose flesh appeared in awareness of his proximity. I needed him to put his hands on me soon, before my body shut down in frustration. I puffed out a brief breath, trying to manage the rush. Tom knew it, saw my reactions no matter how much I tried to suppress them. He winked, “That you begged me to do it.”
How was I still standing? He wasn’t touching me, but the memory of his caress was beyond powerful, beyond consuming. Oh, fuck this… he’d tortured me enough. I had to try to regain some of the ground I’d lost. I dropped my script to the floor and turned around to face him. I kept my body lined with the bar across my back as support. I stretched my arms out either side, my elbows propped up, and jutting my t-shirt covered cleavage forward.
Score! The movement wasn’t lost on the man before me. He savored the offering of the t-shirt tight across my breasts in admiration and appreciation before taking in the reflection in the mirror behind me.
We both wanted this affair, this whatever to remain between the two of us. He couldn’t be caught staring hungrily at his costar’s goods, so to speak. The space between us, though respectable, crackled with sexual attraction and electricity. Our eyes held steady face to face, and I had to admit, I liked that view of him too. I smirked, attempting to dish some of this back on him, “Why are you doing this now?”
He raked his eyes down the length of my body, taking in every last inch of me before reversing the process. “Because, darling, I can. And a spoiler for the evening spread out ahead of us.”
“I may grow immune to your…” I snuck a peek at his crotch. “Uh… charms.”
He laughed. “I highly doubt that, Abigail. I know your erogenous zones.”
Jesus Christ! His voice saying that word erogenous nearly made me collapse to the floor. Inner diva Abigail may have some stage fright, but she was about to try to overcome her fear. I lifted an eyebrow doubtfully. “Oh? Pray tell, Thomas.”
His face adopted a predatory look at the obvious challenge. “Shall I number them head to toe? Or shall I name them from ‘take me now’ to ‘ooh, I think I like that’?”
“You’ve catalogued all that in two days? Comprehensively?”
“If memory serves, I’ve had you many times. And you, Abigail, are not exactly unresponsive to my touch.”
I was resigned to the truth that he probably knew me better than I did at this point. “Lay it on me.”
Tom wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips. “Inside the top of your right thigh, just shy of what I can only describe as heaven.” He gestured behind him to the other people in the room. “In polite company. All I have to do is apply a little bit of pressure with my finger or my tongue…” I whimpered audibly without even realizing I had and was rewarded with a triumphant smile for revealing myself. “And you whimper like that.”
If we weren’t surrounded by a group of people, I might actually have jumped him. The inclination was there to do it anyway, our conversation doing nothing for that heavy hollow inside. Yes, that urgency wasn’t getting any smaller or showing signs of disappearing. He nearly stole my breath away, his witchcraft easily controlling me again. “I know some of yours. I’ve gotten the better of you on more than one occasion.”
“No doubt, Abigail, and I would love to hear it. However a boner with your name on it will be difficult to hide.” He stepped closer to me so I had to look up at him, but still kept from touching me, irritatingly so. I knew he couldn’t, but goddamn it I craved him to with every pore. His voice dropped to a murmur, “But tell me one thing.” I nodded mutely. “Are you so very wet for me at this moment?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“You don’t need to, darling. I already know you are.”
He turned and walked away from me, with a smug and confident look on his face. Damn him. He was so infuriating, fucking handsome as all get out and infuriating.
The director spent the last half hour with Tom and me, dismissing everyone else. He was pepping us up and expanding the backstory of our characters. Cruel and unusual punishment, if you ask me. “I know how awkward it can be for two actors who have never met or worked together before to share a kiss on stage, let alone a love scene. I know you are both consummate professionals. I don’t anticipate an issue for the love scene towards the end of act two, but we will have address that and how we want to handle it.”
This was not happening to me. I needed to put a muzzle on my inner sexual deviant so I could do my job. Or Tom and I were about to give the director our very own show… Someone saw fit to save me tonight, though. “We won’t start on that tonight, but it will need to happen soon. I want you to spend a little more time getting to know each other before we jump into that.”
With that, the director invited us to the pub for dinner. Tom declined for us, stating that we were staying for a few minutes after to chat up limits. “Good, good. Lights off when you leave, yeah?” And he was gone, leaving Tom and I alone.
Tom crushed me to him before the door sounded shut. His lips were insistent and hungry on mine, groans rumbling in his chest. He grabbed my ass pulling me boldly into his frame, almost roughly. My hands buried in his hair, keeping his lips on mine. Our mouths and tongues were hurried, desperate. The past few hours of arousal fueled the fire between us, anxious didn’t begin to explain the overwhelming need for the other.
He dipped his head into my neck, worrying the skin between his teeth, every inch. I cursed loudly in the empty room. “No foreplay, just get inside me.”
Tom tucked his hand against my sex and pressed. Borrowing the director’s words, he said, “Let’s consummate our professionalism. Can you handle a little more time together?” Unable to wait for my response, he turned me around within the circle of his arms, keeping his hand where I needed him. He led me forward a few steps to get closer to one of the unoccupied wooden chairs in the room. As we moved forward, he licked the column of my neck. I started to tug at my pants, getting as far as exposing my bum. Tom’s hand was still driving me mad with a circular motion against my center.
“Get to know me, Tom. Let’s jump into this love scene.”
In one sudden movement, my lover yanked my pants and knickers down to my ankles. Gruffly, his voice demanded, “Don’t move, Abigail!” I was left to stare at my shaking reflection, waiting for him to free himself. I could hear him pulling his belt and pants off. He sat in the chair, rolled on the condom and grabbed my hand. Placing his hands on my hips, he centered me between his wide-spread knees. I was still facing the mirror, his impressive cock nearly reaching for me. I stepped backwards, spreading my legs on either side of the man in the chair.
He guided me down slowly with one hand on my hip and the other hand lining his cock with my folds. I sank down onto his lap as I took him into my body. In unison, we both breathed out, “Oh, fuck!” I rested my hands on his knees, gripping firmly as though they were my sanity.
The mirror showed every detail, magnifying the sight with the feel and the smell of it. I leaned forward to allow Tom to enjoy the show over my shoulder. His big hands slid up under my shirt, gathering the material to relieve me of it. “Curtain’s up, woman, I need you naked. I can’t miss your breasts bouncing while you ride my cock.”
He pulled my t-shirt off my shoulders. Without hesitation, he attempted the clasp of my bra with his teeth, almost viciously. That pursuit was unsuccessful, but the action was hot. His breath and teeth harsh against my back. As he took my bra off, his mouth attached to my neck in an excruciating lover’s mark and I didn’t mind. I returned my hands to his knees when I was completely naked.
Ensuring that Tom could see our display, I ground against his length. His fingers found my clit and manipulated slowly. A beautiful act before the mirror, forever watching. I rotated my hips with his other hand guiding the motion. “Fuck, woman, no more teasing.”
With a powerful grip on my hips, he lifted me and slammed me back down on him. I grunted as he hit an ultra-sensitive spot within my depths. I gave him the control of our rhythm. It was another raw, rough, nearly primitive ride. The wooden chair beneath us creaked and cracked under our weight, threatening to give way. He drove my body to the limits yet again. Like a first chair in the orchestra, he was an expert at playing my body and mind to the extremes of my endurance. An endless litany of sounds escaping my mouth as he took me.
I was able to watch the entire act, pushing me to euphoria. Tom’s face glistened with sweat, biting his lower lip in concentration. His brow furrowed as he climbed to orgasm, worshipping me with groans of approval. Increasing the pace, my orgasm started at the top of my head and washed over me. It left me breathless and quaking, the muscles within me clamping mercilessly around him.
Tom joined me moments after, with a shout. His head collapsing backwards, his face towards the ceiling. His breathing was laborious and intense. He wrapped his arms around my waist and cuddled against my back, as he slipped out of my body. His hands cupped my breasts with caring. And with a gentleness that I didn’t know he possessed, Tom softly kissed along my spine.
We stayed there until our breathing returned to normal and our heartbeats regulated. I untangled myself from him, my limbs feeling heavy and relaxed. We dressed in silence and gathered our belongings to leave. He wrapped an arm around me, and said, “I can take direction if you want take the lead sometime.”
I grinned lasciviously, “Take me home and I’ll fuck you.”