Today Iâm a director, but in college I was an aspiring actor. Perhaps not the best, but certainly not the worst, either. In my senior year, I got my big chance - a lead role in a romantic comedy. It was a great role and chance to showcase my talents for the local LA talent agents and producers. Best of all, I was cast opposite Leslie, a petite sophomore pixie who looked like the spiting image of Audrey Hepburn. (Sheâs gone on to have pretty good success on a couple of WB shows, so Iâll change her name for everyoneâs sake [though I wish I could tell the whole world]).
So, âLeslieâ and I had pretty good chemistry and shared a passion for the play. We worked hard on the show, getting together before and after rehearsals to go over our lines. But I didnât think too much of it, I knew she had a boyfriend - a frat boy named Brad. This was just work. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, I have to confess I was a little excited when she invited me over to rehearse lines on a Saturday night.
When I got to her dorm, I was pleasantly surprised to find that she had a private studio. I was even more encouraged by the fact that she was wearing a tiny pair of pink, silk pajama shorts and matching top. For the first time I began to notice how great she smelled, how strikingly green her eyes were â how perfectly smooth her skin was.
Before I could get settled in, she propped open the window, lit a cigarette and pulled a bottle of wine out of her mini fridge.
âWorking tools,â she claimed.
Despite being two years her senior, I suddenly realized that not only was she out of my league, (like I said, sheâs model gorgeous) but she was much cooler than Iâd ever be. I played along, downing a few glasses of merlot and running lines for the better part of an hour. That is, until I spilled part of my third glass on my shirt.
I told her it was no big deal; Iâd throw the shirt out when I got home. But she insisted on giving me one of her boyfriendâs oxfords. I wasnât too comfortable with the idea, knowing that frat guys can be pretty possessive about their girlfriends â I thought it was dicey enough being alone with her in her room on a Saturday night. But that made me thing, âWhat was she doing home alone?â I asked why she wasnât with him.
âHeâs an asshole, Fuck him. And you can burn his shirt for all I care,â was her explanation. It was good enough for me.
That was it. Nothing more came of it that night. But I was encouraged to find that she and âfrat boyâ were done. Or so I thought. The next day I saw them walking across campus, hand in hand, and I knew I was stupid to even get my hopes up. I buried my nose in the text, worked night and day to get agents to the show and delivered a performance that garner solid reviews and, eventually, landed me my first agent.
The final night of the run, Leslie and I met behind the curtain and went through our performance rituals. A few vocal warm ups, and a quick hug before the curtain went up. But that night the hug lasted a second or two longer than usual. Initially, I didnât think anything of it. Her heart was clearly beating fast as she held me tight. I looked down to see that she was alright and she was staring up at me with her big green eyes, tears welling in the corners. I assumed she was just going to miss doing the show with me. Actors and actresses get that way about closing performances. But as I opened my mouth to say something comforting to her, she put her hands on my face, drew me in and kissed me deeply â her tongue expertly darting in and out of my mouth. Now it was my heart that was pounding. But before I could say or do anything, the lights came up and she pushed me on stage. Letâs just say that in that nightâs performance, the comedy was a little forced, but the romance came easy.
When the curtain finally closed, I rushed to my dressing room, not sure what I should do. Again, she was one step ahead of me. She came in very casually, sat down and began taking off her make-up. Before I could say anything, she apologized.
âI shouldnât have done that. That wasnât very fair. I just broke up with Brad and you were there and the excitement of closing and⊠I just got carried away. Iâm sorry,â she shrugged.
Needless to say, I was crushed. Over the six weeks of rehearsal I had come to love our meetings, her scent, her laugh, her pixie-like grin â I had fallen for her hard. But I sucked it up and played it off as best I could. Trying to be big about the whole thing, I invited her to a party my roommates and I were throwing later that night. In yet another crushing blow, she said sheâd try, but couldnât guarantee anything. Here I was getting played by a 19 year old. I couldnât have felt much worse on what should have been a great night.
Back at our apartment, with a few drinks in me, everything was alright. That is, until the door rang at a few minutes before 2am. Leslie had shown up after all. She barged in, grabbed my hand, proclaiming that she couldnât stay long, but that she needed to talk in private. My roommates, Jessica and Jamie, looked a little perturbed, but were also a little impressed that this hot girl was dragging me into my bedroom.
As I stepped inside, she closed the door behind me and locked the door. She had my attention.
âLook, what I did tonight was really, really shitty. First, for kissing you like that and then for telling you that it was nothing.â
She slid off her shoe and unzipped her leather jacket.
âI do like you. I just thought it was too fast for me to be getting into anything after Brad. But thatâs a fucked up thing for me to do to you.â
I quickly saw that she wasnât wearing a shirt. Her chest was nearly flat, but her huge, puffy nipples darted out from behind her coat when she reached down to pull of her other shoe.
âYouâve been so good to me. Listening to all that shit about me and Brad.â
She removed the second shoe and let the jacket fall to the ground. There she was, her taught, nubile frame fully exposed, save for the short, schoolgirl miniskirt that barely covered her panties.
Okay, this girl had blown my mind several times over by this point, but what she said next took the cake.
âSo what do you say I make it up to you by sucking your dick?â
She knelt down on the ground before me.
âBetter yet, why donât you fuck my mouth? Youâd probably like that more, wouldnât you?â
She clasped her hands behind her back, closed her eyes and opened her mouth wide. When I didnât immediate respond (I was still in shock), she took charge.
âThatâs cool. I donât mind doing the work.â
With that, she leaned forward onto the bed and began unbuttoning my jeans. With that pixie grin stretched from ear to ear she asked,
âSo, what ya thinking about?â
âJust⊠how beautiful you are,â I managed to stammer out.
She was on to me,
âCorny, but sweet. No, I imagine youâre wondering if Iâll let you cum in my mouth⊠Donât worry, I will.â
She reached into my jeans and pulled out my swollen cock.
âIn fact, you can cum in my mouth, on my face, in my pussy or my ass⊠whatever you want. Iâm gonna be your own personal slut. Youâve earned it.â
And with that she bent forward, lowering her lips to the tip of my throbbing dick. She swirled her tongue in circles around the ridge of the head, saliva dripping down on my cock all the while. When she pulled up, a string of pre-cum and saliva arched from her mouth to my dick. I thought I was going to explode right there.
âThat is, if youâll have me,â she teased.
I nodded my consent and she lowered back down, this time taking the length of my shaft in her mouth. As she bobbed up and down on my cock, she reached out for my hand. I took it and locked my fingers in hers, the way my last girlfriend and I had when we used to make love. But Leslie quickly took my hand and led it to the back of her head. She clearly wanted me in the driverâs seat.
To get a bit more leverage, I pushed to my feet and Leslie dutifully kept my dick in her mouth the whole time. I began to take deep strokes in and out of her mouth and she purred along, like she couldnât get enough. But when I saw little tears forming in the corners of her eyes, I quickly pulled out.
âDonât stop now,â she pleaded. âCum for me, please.â
I didnât need any more encouragement. I jammed my dick down her throat and started fucking her mouth like there was no tomorrow, my balls slapping her chin, her fingernails digging into my thighs. With one last thrust I let out a healthy groan and filled her mouth with what felt like the biggest orgasm of my life.
For a moment or two I was in a complete fog. I looked down and those eyes were still staring up at me, her lips locked around my cock. I pulled myself out and she let my cum spill out her mouth, down her neck and all over those tiny little tits. Her lips glistening with my cum, she spread that wide grin again and sheepishly exclaimed,
âOops, I must be full.â This girl was too much for me.
I quickly looked for a towel or sock or something for her to clean up with, but she stopped me quick.
âNo point in cleaning up when weâre just getting started. Now, I expect youâre gonna wanna fuck me, but itâll take a few moments for you to get hard again.â