Chapter 10
Four days flew past me with lightning speed and it was suddenly opening night. Three more hours and Josh continued to feed 'me lines, gave me the cue words, forced me to recite the dialogue I was sure I already knew. He was unrelenting in his thoroughness. I had almost convinced myself that he was more worried about tonight than I was. Almost. I was more than worried, I was scared silly. I had practically lived in the theater, and it was closing in on me with no possible escape.
For the past four days, I had eaten like a bird and sleep had been a joke. Every time my head hit the pillow, a song rang out in my ear, or dance routines jostled my feet beneath the sheets, or dialogue screamed in my brain. They all conspired to keep me awake.
Adrenaline was the only thing keeping me going, keeping me alert and on my feet. Adrenaline and raw nerves. I was tense, keyed up, and ready to explode. I had to do something to get me calmed down, to settle my churning stomach, to untie the knot of nerves threatening to immobilize me. And Josh persisted, followed me everywhere I went, refused to let up.
I had finally had enough and turned on him. "Look. I'll make you a deal. I'm going to climb into a hot tub and try to get this body relaxed. If I don't, I'm going to go Looney Tunes."
"But we need to go over this dialogue. The more we do it, the more--"
"Hear me out. Once I'm in the tub, soaking away my cares, let's run the show from top to bottom. Once! Then you leave me alone, let me do the show, and we can talk about it afterwards. Deal?"
"Just once?"
"Once. Take it or leave it," I said firmly, my mind made up, my body craving warm water to wash my troubles down the drain.
"I'll take it. But you're not leaving the theatre."
"Hadn't intended to. There's a tub in the bathroom I share with Debbie. That's where you'll find me." I turned away, my power play successful.
It didn't take me long to get the tub filled with hot, soothing water and plenty of bubbles. My tits had just sunk beneath a mound of suds when Josh burst through the door, with no knock, no announcement. He carried a stool, placed it next to the tub, and plunked his ass down.
I didn't even have time to enjoy the first lap of water against my flesh before he was ready to begin. The script opened in his lap and the story of Ms. Gypsy Rose Lee rose up with the steam.
I sloshed around in the tub, kept a hefty amount of bubbles covering my nakedness, and repeated my lines. My body was beginning to relax even if my mind was still trapped in the show. I occasionally turned on the hot water to keep the temperature at a comfortable level, and received a piercing look from the corner of Josh's eye ever time I did. It seemed he wanted my entire, undivided attention. He chastised me for doing two things at once.
Skipping over the songs, eliminating the dances and dialogue of which I was not a part, got us through the show in less than an hour. That left me two hours to get nervous all over again, the tub having worked its magic, floating away my tenseness and a small part of my dread.
"By Jove, I think she's got it!" Josh said with a cockney accent.
"God, you're great. Four days and you've got it down pat." He threw the script down on the stool, leaned over the tub, and threw his arms around me. Then fell into the tub, clothes and all, a startled look on his face.
Water splashed over the edge as he thrashed about, dunked my head beneath the surface, and stretched his body out on top of me.
"Josh!" I screamed as soon as I forced my face above the waterline. But his mouth on mine kept me from saying more. His hands searched my body beneath the rippling waves, found my tits and held on. He was obviously not worried about his drenched clothes and had no intention of leaving the tub.
"Get out! I'm in her to relax."
"I'll tell you what it's like to fuck Blayne."
"What? You're kidding. Are you trying to tell me Blayne is gay? Boy, have I got news for you."
"Blayne? Gay?" Josh laughed and shook his head. "Not Blayne. He says he's bi, but I don't believe him. Oh, he fucks guys all right, but only because he's convinced he can fuck his way to stardom."
"But that means ... then you're ... "
"Nope. Not me either. I truly am bi. I love sex in all its forms and wonderfully endless combinations. You know what they say, 'A hole is a hole."'
"Well, go plug some other hole. I've got two hours to show time."
"I can't believe your passing up the opportunity to hear all about Blayne's glorious butt. Oh, don't look so surprised. I saw you at the party. You couldn't take your eyes off him. I've never seen a woman want a man more in my entire life. Even while being so expertly fingered!"
"You saw that!" I wanted to drown myself, bury my head beneath the water and never come up.
"Everyone saw it. It's been the hot topic of conversation ever since: You have no secrets, my dear. The entire company has seen your pussy gobble up Dave's fingers. You're already a star!"
He removed his hands from my tits and peeled away his sagging sweater. I just stared at him, my mind trying to digest his news, wondering how I was ever going to face my fellow performers. I could forget about modesty. Everyone I knew had seen my cunt at work. I was so devastated, wallowing in self-pity, that I didn't notice Josh until he was standing above me, his pants and shorts just leaving his bare feet.
He stood above me, soapy water trickling from the end of his limp dick. It seemed my life had become a succession of sexual encounters and this would be just one more to add to the list. I laid there and let him lower himself on top of me.
He kissed me, one hand attached to his tool to work it into a substantial offering. I was a bit surprised when I found myself kissing him back, my pussy coming to life, reaching out to touch his balls.
I pushed back on his shoulders, held him away from me. "You flicked Blayne?"
"Other way around. But I did do an excellent job of swabbing his body, if I do say so myself." He grinned, prouder than proud.
"Blayne fucked you?"
"All that meat right up this tight little keester!"
"I can't believe this. This is too kinky for my taste," I said, struggling beneath him, wanting nothing more than to get away.
He pushed me back into the tub, his dick hard and plowing into my stomach. His hands pinned my shoulders against the porcelain. "There's nothing kinky between you and I. You're a woman. I'm a man. Where's the problem?"
"Problem? Problem! God only knows where you've stuck that thing. Or worse yet, what's been stuck up you!' It isn't right, it isn't--"
His hard mouth once again silenced my tongue. I wriggled in the water, banged my hips from side to side. I couldn't break free, then suddenly didn't want to. His tongue worked feverishly in my mouth and I knew the pleasure Blayne must have known with that darting probe up his tight rear end. Josh placed one arm across my chest, held me secure, while his free hand forced searing dick meat between my legs. But he didn't have to force the issue. My legs opened freely, giving him anything he wanted; his mouth and tongue a mesmerizing hypnotic.
My ass slid along the slippery surface of the tub as his cock inched up pussy, sloshed soapy water ahead of his steady climb. He plied dick to me in a long, single stroke until he reached the back of my cunt. Then he raised me up from the water, brought his legs forward, brought me up to sit on his dick.
My tits flattened against his chest as he drew my mouth back onto his. He rocked his ass on the bottom of the tub, and it was up to me to do the rest. I bounced on his dick, rippled the water to slap the sides of the tub. Bubbles foamed around my waist. Warm water sloshed inside my cunt as I slid up and down his proud staff, my pussy a sponge like washcloth clinging to his turgid prick.
My lips release a soft moan of pleasure, the buoyancy of the water floating me on a cloud. Billowy lather built around me as my excitement grew, as I tried to work hot pussy to the base of his mighty shaft. My ass jiggled each time I slapped soapy cheeks against his thighs, sent tiny bubbles racing to the surface in an explosive stream. But I couldn't reach all I wanted, had yet to experience his entire cock within me. Our position, though stimulating and pleasurable, would not allow Josh to feed his tender meat to me from stem to stern, his mighty mast but three-fourths swabbed.
With his hands massaging my back and my weight bearing down on his lap, something had to change or I'd never sink his ship. His open mouth and thick tongue raced along my upwardly stretched neck, my nipples reached out to brush his chest in tingling strokes as my pussy rose and fell. And still I wanted the change! I'd have to give up this present set of arousal for one I wanted even more. My cunt remained the object of ultimate satisfaction and it demanded the full length of cock that it now only received a part of. It would settle for nothing less.
"Josh," I said through a breathy sigh," I need more. I want it all!"
My hands were on the sides of the tub, had steadied my body, had aided my forcible strides. They held me in place as Josh slid his hands down my back and gripped my ass. Then they left me, placed themselves behind him as he leaned away. His prick pulled on my pussy, attempted to stretch it closer to his stomach. I leaned away from him, increased the pressure of his dick against the front of my cunt as Josh raised himself up. My body slid down his pole, the lips of my snatch finally swimming around the base of its desire. We shared the workload equally, each responsible for the other's climax.
The water churned around us as we humped in this new position, the position that would give each of us what we urgently wanted. Passion became lust. Gliding sailboats became engine-powered barges plowing through the waves. But our rhythm eventually matched, turning barges into a sleek ocean liner slicing through the tide. Our sea calmed, lapped upon our chests, caressed our bodies in soothing waves. Our crotch hairs swayed in the wild undercurrent of runaway lust.
The full length of Josh's cock rubbed the ceiling of my cunt as we pulled and stretched away from each other. It was better than Bobby, his hooked prick only scraping me with his head. Josh kept a rigid mast plastered securely to my flesh, our combined efforts working it sensuously along a deepening groove.
"God but you're beautiful! You hair's slicked back ... no make-up ... and still you're gorgeous!" Josh spoke and never missed a stroke, his cock on a steady course.
"You're not ... so bad ... yourself."
"Eat my dick! What a fucking ... hot ... pussy!" He shook his head, his lips vibrating and wobbling around a shaky noise like something from The Three Stooges. Both of his heads shook together, my cunt banged from side to side by a bulbous, throbbing hunk of claiming flesh.
"Oh, yes! Do that again!" He took direction well, rocked his hips with greater vitality, slamming his firm cockhead deep inside me. I squealed above him as he slid his ass from side to side, as I jumped up and down. Every inch of my wet interior was raucously touched by his thrilling tool.
"I can't take it!" Josh groaned. His body trembled, shook like a vibrator on high, his hips jerking upward in powerful thrusts. His head fell back, his stubble covered neck stretched, his mouth fully open in a quaking, high-pitched cry which escaped in tiny bursts to match the pace of his prick.
Had I not known better, I would have thought him to be in pain. He could have stopped, he could have withdrawn, but he didn't.
My pussy squeezed around him, sucked on his shaft, kept his body quivering. His biceps were turning red as he pushed against the bottom of the tub, and raised his hips higher and higher to meet my descending snatch. He did so in gurgling slaps beneath the surface of the raging waters. Then I drove down harder, jamming his shaft into gripping pussy.
"Cum! Oh, God! My cock's full of cum! Jesus, it feels so good! Make it spit. Make me squirt into your pussy. Do it!"
I didn't know vat more I could do. My cunt sucked and gripped and released, slammed down hard and clamped around his girth as I pulled away. I rode as expertly as I could, my concentration in my box, my pleasure mounting in the knowledge of what I was doing to his cock. It swelled within me, its temperature rising as more and more cum fought its way up to his swollen cockhead. It grew magically harder, muscles straining to capture the eventual eruption, to delay the release as long as possible. Josh was barely able to control his body, his skin flushed, his face skewed in sheer ecstasy, the muscles of his legs knotted. Still he pumped, still he refused to cum. His mouth remained open, his voice silent, only air allowed to rush in and be violently expelled.
His impending climax was obvious. Mine seemed not to exist. But I didn't care. My pussy was being gloriously fucked, and cum or not, the enjoyment was excruciating; my body relishing a good thumping. Climax seemed less and less of an objective as his voracious pounding grew in intensity. It came closer and closer to erasing the pleasure-producing tingle of trapped semen.
His hands and feet pushed up from the tub, his hips rising to the surface of the water. His back arched. The top of his head dipped into the bubbles. His body locked, and only his cock bobbed back and forth in the confines of my hot box. A basso profundo scream erupted. Stopped. His voice jumped an octave and screamed again. Short. Clipped. Then jumped another octave. His final scream slid rapidly up the scale as he laid his load in my cargo hold. The first eruption was long and flowing, a continuous stream of flaming cum, followed by rapid-fire bursts of hurtling torpedoes.
Fully out of the water, my pussy drank him in, lapped up his ammunition and craved for more. I held myself still, let my cunt work its magic upon his cock. Receiving creamy cum is tantamount to orgasm itself, the hot feel of swirling sperm a turn-on of incredible magnitude. Depression sets in when the thing turns off its flowing faucet, the offering never as much as desired.
Josh dropped into the water and totally submerged himself when the final missile evacuated his silo. His head popped up, spitting and sputtering, his face aglow. "Wow!" was all he could say.
My pussy kept chewing, tried to drain more cum from his softening submarine. It was not to be, it had taken all it was going to get. Josh tried to keep his crotch feeding me his cock, but it was losing its rigidity too quickly.
"Sandy, I'm sorry, Well, I am and I'm not. If you know what I mean."
"I know. There's nothing to be sorry about. It was wonderful!"
"But you didn't cum."
"That's not mandatory. Nice, but not required. That's the difference between men and women."
"One of them, you mean. I can see a couple of very nice others." His eyes scanned my tits.
Completely soft, my pussy had trouble hanging on and his folded sail slipped away from me. I slid my ass along his legs until my bottom encountered porcelain. He raised his knees, hugged them to his chest and gently rocked in the water, smiling.
"You look like the cat who just ate the canary," I said, following it with a chuckle.
"Hardly. But let's save eating for another time."
"That's not what I meant."
"Yes it is. You can't fool me. I know a nympho when I fuck one."
"Josh Leamon! You bastard!"
"Cut the crap. You love it as much as I do. But what does it take to make you cum?"
"A lot more than you've got asshole!"
"Is that what you want?" He stood up and turned himself around. He bent over, his hands pulling his cheeks far and wide. Water streamed over his crack as he wiggled his butt in my face. His balls jiggled between his legs, his dripping hair a slender thread beneath his wrinkled scrotum.
I slapped him squarely across his cheeks with all the force I could muster.
"Yeah! That's it, Sandy. Spank my ass. Whip me good. Then lick my hole with your hot tongue. Eat me, just like I ate Blayne."
"Get out! I wouldn't suck on your ass if it was the last hole on earth!" My hands pounded the water in frustration. He was such an egotistical bastard that anything I did would surely seem a come-on.
"I'll go. But only because you've got a show to do. We'll continue this conversation later." He straightened up and turned around, his limp dick covered in drenched hair. I almost laughed right in his face. His cock was sort of gnarly and gross, the thick vein almost as large as the rest of his dick. And his head seemed totally out of proportion to the size of his shaft, like nature had begun a masterpiece, got bored and slapped it onto the nearest available stem. But I con-trolled myself, swallowed my giggle, chose not to offend my director.
He climbed out, of the tub and grabbed a towel, removed the, object of my merriment from sight. He talked about the show as he dried and then dressed, reminded me of cues and timing, of this entrance and that. I blocked him out. I knew the show as well as I was ever going to and didn't need any more instruction.
"One hour," he said, as he strapped on his wristwatch. A voice came over the speaker to announce the same. My assistant had been bumped up to stage manager and her simple statement released the butterflies in my stomach.
"Leave me," I said, my voice almost a whisper. "The cast would love to see your smiling face. And I have a lot to think about."
He leaned over the tub and kissed my forehead. "You're going to be a star. Trust me."
I sank into the water as the door closed behind him. "A star," I mumbled and submerged my face.