Theater Meeting (Part 1)

One show finished to great success, if you can count "selling out" a success when you only set-up 24 chairs per show.  But that's OK, it was a small cast, small show, and the actors were all very talented.  The goal was putting on the production, learning the ropes, testing out a new theater, not making money.

Making money in small local theater is never, can't ever be the main goal, because you never make money.

Ever.

My goal, was to flex my set design muscles, get a credit on my resume, and be around her.

Always around her.  That's always the goal.

Sure, at the end she'll give me a $50 gift card and a long hug, but that's just a bonus.

She texted and asked when I wanted to start planning our next show, her next show really.  She was the producer, backer, director, and lead actress. 

"When do you want to meet?" she texted?

"Thursday at lunch," I replied, "or Friday after work. Will Dave be coming?"

Dave was her long-time boyfriend, 10 years her senior, a replacement father figure for a lonely woman who lost her dad to a drunk driver at 11 years old.  Her mom was great, but never fully recovered.  Dave was a nice guy, too old for her, another theater groupie who knew what to say when she was lonely.

"Dave's in Colorado with his brother on their annual fishing trip."

I laughed as I thought about my response.  Dave had never fished a day in his life.  He went to Colorado, smoked pot, talked shit, and went to strip clubs and blew what little money he had for "fishing." I think she knew he didn't fish much, he never brought back pictures from the boat, just the dock at the lack, that looked staged AF.

"I can't do Friday," I wrote, "Thursday works for me.  Carol's downtown all this week, so we can work on the patio while I grill your asparagus"  

As a vegan, she brought her own food everywhere and I learned not to put my chicken on her side of the grill.

She didn't write back for a bit, her job at the amusement park kept her busy.

At midnight, her text came through.  "Thursday is fine."

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday dragged on.  I could have met all week, but I knew that she got lonely without David, and it paid off.

I dropped her a note Wednesday after dinner, "Still on for tomorrow?"

"Yes" she replied, "What should I wear?"

"Of your own free will?" I asked. Consent was her kink.

"Of my own free will."

"Sun dress, no bra, thin white panties, the blue sandals I like."  I hit SEND.

"As you wish." she said, quoting her favorite movie.

"No" I wrote back, "Answer correctly."

I could see the dots blink, stop, then blink again, until her message lit up my phone.

"As I wish."

"12:30," I wrote back, "Don't knock, go through the gate, sit at the patio table."

I turned off my phone, went into the bedroom, and made love to my wife.  She appreciated my extra passion.

"That was nice," she said, "now I have something to think about at work tomorrow."

I slid out of her, warmed up a washcloth, and cleaned her up.  Kissing softly, we said our goodnights and fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~

I woke up, kissed my wife goodbye, logged in to work, pretended to be productive, and logged off at noon.  25 minutes later, the patio was clean, the table washed, the clean water of the fountain bubbled quietly next to the fence. I stepped into the house, poured some ice water, and waited.

Precisely at 12:30, I heard her car pull up, the gate opened, closed, and she came into view through the sliding patio doors. She laid out her production notebook, laid out some fabric swatches, her design sketches, and waited patiently.  She was as talented as she was beautiful, and always came prepared.

I adjusted myself, not hiding, but minimizing the growing shaft in my shorts, and opened the door.  

She stood up, opened her arms, and I gave her a long hug.  Ten seconds into our embrace, she adjusted her arms and pulled me closer, pressing her chest to mine, and I did the same.  No longer a hub, but a true embrace, I held her close, buried my head in her beautiful red hair, and kissed her skin.

We stepped back, held hands, and smiled at each other.

"I like your outfit." I said.

"That makes me happy." she replied, "shall we?"  She sat down and bent toward the table and her notebooks, knowing full well that I would look down the neckline of her dress, confirming her obedience to my request.

Her small breasts, bare, tight, were mostly nipple, an A-cup on a good day, she was the sexy girl you tried to keep up with during a 10K race.  You couldn't ever keep up, but the view from behind was just as good until she pulled away and decimated the men and the women in her age group.

I sat next to her and we got to work.

Her designs were beautiful, but impractical to build on her budget, so was always met in the middle.  Fewer trap doors, more moving walls, a window that would drop in from the ceiling instead of stage left, a movable gauze curtain that defined the rift between the husband and wife in the story.  she found wonderful, personal, very human scripts.  She had no interest in lasers or car crashes or murder.  She preferred the quiet killing of broken hearts and frozen relationships.  

When she put down her pen and closed her notebook, I knew she was done with work.

"A drink," she said, "Please."

I stepped into the kitchen, poured a tall glass of water. When I returned, a pair of thin cotton panties were laid out perfectly smooth on the table, the bright white sparkled against the dark wood grain of the table.

I looked down at her and she avoided my gaze.

"Look at me." I whispered.

She looked up, her green eyes had the shine of tears unshed.

I wiped away the tears with the pad of my thumbs.

"Stand." I said.

She obeyed.

I took the panties from the table, kneeled before her, and slipped them up over her strong thin legs.  She lifted her skirt and I saw her freshly waxed labia for a moment until she moved her thighs wider, allowing her panties back into place.

I smoothed out the waistband, pulled gently on the fabric, and settle the thong deep between her cheeks, and let her skirt fall back into place.

"Look at me." I said again.

At 5'8" our eyes met, our bodies aligned, and I could feel her breathing on my chest.

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"Because you have tears in your eyes." I whispered in her ear, inhaling her scent.

"That's not your fault," she said, lifting her face to match mine, "I want this."

"Go inside, wash up, take a drink, pause for a moment, then return with dry eyes and a clear head."

She lifted herself on to her toes and kissed me.  I returned the kiss and released her.

She walked past me, dragging her hand across the front of my shorts, and stepped into the house.  

I put her notebooks, sketches, pens, and swatches into her bag, ensured the side gate was closed, and sat in my chair and waited.

End Part One

A new friend over the fence

The sun is out, finally. Granted, it's going to rain again on Saturday, but for today, the clouds are gone, and my patio is warm. 

 The black fabric of my lounge chair stings against my bare skin of my shoulders for the first few seconds. The backs of my thighs twitch as they try to escape the heat, but my glutes and my lower back sigh and sink into the heat in blessed relief. I brought out my phone to watch a few videos to get things going, but the sun is directly in my face and the effort to hold my phone and block the sun are too much and defeat the purpose of the moment. 

I turn off the screen and set my phone down on the pile of clothes that puddle on the warm cement..

The sun warms my chest, my stomach, and my thighs.  I pull my knees up to my chest to stretch and move my legs. My thighs open, the sun warms the back of my legs, my crevice, putting sun "where the sun don't shine."  The sun reflects off the white plastic fence, filling in the shadows on my skin.

I laugh to myself at the old schoolyard insult and pull my knees apart further until I'm exposed to the healing rays. My blood begins to flow as my pucker warms in the sun.

Through the fence I can hear the children playing.  The fence is solid, no gaps, so even if they crawled up the 4 feet from their yard to the fence, they's still not be able to see anything inappropriate for young eyes.  I debate going back in, but my plans are quiet, personal, passionate, and none will be the wiser.

Their mom, Holly, is the new mom in the neighborhood, having just moved in three months ago.  It's nice to have the sound of children around.  The couple that moved out was sweet, but homebound, and finally had to move in with their oldest daughter.  They won't last long.  Wonderful, but old, and it was taking its toll.

I hear a thud, a moment of silence. and they the wails and tears of a 4-year-old that took a header.  I hear Holly scoop him up (I forget his name) and sit on the squeaky metal chare that Mike left behind in the move. She sings him a song and the crying mellows slowly until I hear her says that he can go inside and play for a bit. 

The sound of toys being put away are followed by the scrape of metal legs across the cement until I hear Holly drop into the chair and sigh.

I clear my through to let her know I'm there and ask, "Is everything OK?  Sounds like someone took a spill."

"I told him to put his shoes on," she said, her arching over the fence, "instead he tripped, stubbed his toe and hit the deck."

"Is he OK?"

"Nothing that an Otterpop and some Bluey can't fix."

"For my kids it was ice cream and power rangers," I laughed, "but that dates me with the dinosaurs."

"True," I could hear her sigh.

"Enjoying the sun?"

"It's wonderful." she said, "And you?"

"Loving every bit of it."

"Wanna come over?"

"I'd have to get dressed first."

"What?"  I heard her laugh.  "Don't tell me that you are....."

"Yes, I am." I felt flirty. "My backyard has one private spot."

"So, my new neighbor, who helped me move in and unpacked my lingerie box, is 5 feet away from me and totally naked?"

"Well, I'm wearing sunglasses."

"Sounds good."  She got very quiet.

I let the silence linger.

"What next?" she asked quietly.  Her voice came from a different spot, through the fence, not over, as if she had moved.

"Well...."

"Tell me." she whispered and the fence moved as if she was leaning up against it.

"Honestly?"

"YESsssss"

"I'm going to lay here naked, let my mind wander, and then touch myself."

"More."

"The hot sun makes it easy to get hard, I'll start to stroke, I'll tease and pause..."

"And then?"

"Then I'll cum, Holly, I'm going to have an orgasm right here."

"Now?"

"I'm ready if you are." I said, my heart pounding in my chest.  "What do you want?"

"I want to listen."

"I can't be loud."

"Call me.  You can whisper, I can hear."

"OK, but I need you to call me, this is your choice."

My phone rang seconds later.  I picked it off the pile of clothes and laid it on my chest.

"I'm completely hard." I giggled, "I didn't plan on having an audience."

"How often do you do this?"

"During the summer? about once a week.  Have you done it yet?  

"Outside?"

"I started to when I was playing in the pool," she paused, "but then John got home."

"And?"

"He made me start dinner."

"What an idiot."

"Agreed." Her voice shifted, "Tell me what you are doing."

"I'm talking to you."

"You know what I mean."

"Oh, you want to know if I'm hard?"

"Yes,"

"I'm hard, dripping, stroking."

"Who are you thinking about?"

"You."

"Really?  You don't know me."

"I've seen you in stretch pants."  I heard her laugh.

I moaned as I pulled a large drop out of my tip.

"What was that?" She asked, I could hear her over the fence.

"Shhhhhh," I teased, "I just pulled a big drop of cum off the tip."

"Taste it."

"Mmmmm, slippery, tasty, salty."

"Fuck...."

"Language!," I chided her, "you kiss your kids with that mouth."

"and other things." She giggled.

"unzip your shorts."

"My kids are just inside." she sounded nervous.

"I don't care."

"OK. - now what?"

"Stroke gently, outside your panties, be soft." I heard her moan.  "I'm rubbing my cock."

"Really?"

"Yesssss, " I said, "up and down, barely touching, imagining your lips.

"Where am I?"

"Kneeling in front of me, your hair covering my hips, my hands on the back of your head."

"Fill me up."

"Press on your clit, don't make a sound, press hard Holly."

Through the phone and over the fence I heard her gasp.

"Keep going Holly, small tight circles, over the fabric, open your mouth."

I positioned the phone by my mouth so my cute neighbor could hear it all.

"It feels so good, so hard, slippery wet, sticky, pulsing."

"Can I cum?" holly begged through the phone.

"No." I said, "it's my turn."

"Tell me more." 

"I'm standing over you, sliding in and out of your mouth Holly, PULL ME IN.

"Cum!" she whispers.

The sun, her voice, my hand pushed me over the edge, and I grunt and feel strand after strand splash on my chest and phone.

I struggle to catch my breath, gasping at the unexpected moment just shared.  

"Holly?" I whisper, "Holly?"

I stand up listen, but hear nothing until the voices of three little children brighten up the backyard.

"Daddy!!!"

I smile, hang-up, and head to the shower, dripping sweat and pleasure, having made a new friend.

On my walk

 I've seen her on "my loop" a dozen times and it's always just been a friendly nod between runners, but today was different.

We ended up at the same red light.

My name's Carol

I'm Jack

You married?

Yes, I said.

Me too.

Lonely?

Yes.

Follow me.

She ran up the hill, slower her pace so I could see each turn. She cut through the park, around the 2nd pine, and waited. 

Behind the two trees we were hidden from the street and obscured from the homes up on the hill.

We stood close to each other, out of breath from the run, but panting from the anticipation.  I leaned in for a kiss, but she stopped me with a hand on my chest.  She took my wrist and slid it down her stomach and between her legs.  Her running tights were thin and I felt the seem of her pants and the soft folds of her body.  

She gasped, and started to rock her hips against my hand, holding my wrist in place, holding my fingers tight against her.  I started curling my fingers every time she pulled backward, catching her soft center.  She began to moan with each stroked.

Her pace quickened and I took over and rubbed her clit through the dual layers of fabric.  She put her arms around my neck and locked her hands behind my head, almost lifting herself off the ground.  She looked up at me and smiled, then grit her teeth and pressed against me again.

More, she moaned through her teeth.  I found her clit through her Lycra shorts and felt the fabric getting wet, not from sweat, but from pleasure. I pressed the nub hard and high, stretching it out, circling, grinding against it.

She unclasped her hands and grabbed my wrist as she pulled against her waist band and guided my and down her pants but over her soaked panties. 

Make me cum, she groaned.

I felt her bush, trimmed tight, through the silk and began to pull it aside.

No, she said, not inside.

I slipped my hand deeper between her thighs and crushed and circled her clit with the heal of my hand, my fingers wrapping around the gusset of her panties. making a fist but honoring her request and putting skin on skin.

Her orgasm caught me by surprise, and I looked into her eyes.  She did everything she could to stay quiet, to not cry out.  She closed her eyes and pressed herself against me until the climax subsided. I started to pull my hand out, but she held me in place for a few seconds longer as she rubbed her lips against my fist.

She rested her head on my chest and pulled my hand out of her pants, kissing the back of my hand gently.

She pulled her pants back into position and quickly kneeled in front of me. 

She looked up at me.  "Be quick."

With that she pulled my shorts down and slipped my hard cock into her mouth. Not wanting to disobey, I came almost instantly, the insanity of the last five minutes prepping me to explode on command.

She wrapped her arms around my hips and pulled my cock in deeper than expected and I felt her swallow after every shot, her warm mouth milking me for every drop.  Three, Four, Five large ones and the inevitable softening.  She didn't let me go until I was completely finished, and I stroked the top of her head with my hand. She swallowed again and swirled her tongue around the head of my tender shaft.  

She tucked my cock to the side and pulled up my shorts and pulled my sweatshirt down to cover any possible wet spots on the way home.

She stood up and hugged me.  "Thank you." she said, her voice muffled in my sweatshirt.

"Why today?" I asked, "I've seen you out here for years."

"My husband got a new job," she said, a tear in her eye, "we leave tomorrow."

I wrapped my arms around her, and she looked up at me.  I kissed her lightly on the lips.

She let go of me, stepped back, and smiled.  "Thank you."

She ducked under the heavy branches of the pine tree and vanished.  I waited, eager to extend the moment, but knowing that it was over.

I hope she's doing OK now.