Chapter 1
A Theatrical Experience
I saw her first as a series of lithe curves, appearing and disappearing as the crowd in the theatre foyer milled back and forth. Standing still for a while I was eventually rewarded when, through the mass I saw her properly for just a few seconds.
Stunning! Tall, slim but with nicely curving hips and breasts that were accentuated by the cut of her body-flattering dress. She wore her dark, softly waving hair shoulder length and though I could only see her in profile her face was obviously beautiful.
I continued to stare at her until suddenly, as though she had somehow become aware that she was being watched, she turned, our eyes met - and held. Large, wide-set and in that light they appeared to me to be almost black. High cheek-bones and below, a full lipped mouth that at that moment was set hard and, from the expression on the rest of her face, it would appear that right then she was angry about something.
Even so, I smiled at her and, for a moment felt sure that she was going to return it - then, from the corner of my eye I saw a grey-haired man pushing his way aggressively through the crowd, to her side. The throng moved again, blocking them from my view until I caught one more glimpse of her just as they passed through the doors and into the auditorium.
The briefest of moments, a lovely woman glimpsed in passing - something that happens to any man from time to time - but somehow this time seemed totally different, I felt strangely excited and to my surprise even a faint stirring of sexual arousal.
By the time I got inside they were lost amongst the audience and though I wandered through the foyer and bar areas at the interval, hoping at least for another glimpse of her I couldn't see either of them anywhere.
The performance by the dance company was brilliant and as I settled back in my seat for the second half of the programme I couldn't help glancing at the empty one beside me, with a mix of both smugness at what my date was missing by letting me down at the last minute, and my frustration at what I would be missing out on myself, later!
Frustration that only increased as the major part of the performance got under way. I always find modern dance sensual and this particular piece was overtly sexual in content and the combination of frustration, the brief but still lingering arousal from the glimpse of the woman in the foyer and the dancers' movements on stage combined to produce an ache that slowly grew and became concentrated between my thighs.
I have always been blessed, or cursed with a vivid imagination that expressed itself even when I was a kid, telling stories to the others while we sat, eating our lunch. It has since enabled me to make a reasonable living in the world of TV drama production - but it makes its presence felt most strongly in my private world, particularly my private, sexual world. I often find myself creating vivid picture stories in my head, pictures that only need some relatively minor event to act as a trigger - such as the brief sight of the beautiful woman in the foyer - to set it into full, dramatic flight.
On that occasion I had not only encountered a trigger, but also had the added stimulation of the dancers on stage in front of me and, as the dance progressed my imagination began to run riot. First producing additional figures, one of which was of course
'me'
, to dance along with the real ones, figures that slipped effortlessly into the forming and re-forming tableaux.
There was my current lover, naked - her lush, familiar body enticing the image of
'myself'
with an erotic, almost lascivious display of herself, which the other 'me' did his best to ignore - even if not entirely successfully!
Contrasting with her was the beauty from the foyer. By comparison she was positively demure, still wearing the dress that had first caught my eye - and it was quite obvious that she was the one my alter ego really wanted to be with! But, each time they managed to get close enough to each other to touch, she was somehow drawn from
'my'
reach and in her place
'I'
found
'myself'
confronted by my naked lover's display. And, in spite of the sensual longing
'I'
felt for the other woman,
'I'
found
'I'
was unable to control the inner sexual need her flaunting aroused deep inside me.
While one part of my brain was quite able to separate the two sets of dancers, the real and the imaginary, another couldn't - and, as the scenes inside my head became even more graphic I found that the ache between my thighs became more intense until I realised that the effect had been so powerful that even my cock had responded, swelling and stiffening, so much so that I was forced to shift myself into a more comfortable position.
When the curtain came down I sat, still dazed, as the audience around me clapped loudly and the dancers took their well deserved bows, being recalled again and again by the enthusiastically appreciative patrons. I was just grateful for the additional delay, it gave me time to readjust to reality and, more importantly for the hard bulge in my pants to subside a little.
Even so I was amongst the last to leave the theatre and, on reaching the street, as I stopped to light a cigarette and then stood quietly smoking, letting the effects of the powerful imagery slip even further away - I saw her again!
Even from a distance it was apparent that this time her grey-haired escort was on the verge of actually becoming violent, gripping her arm, almost shaking her as he shouted angrily. Although from that far away I couldn't make out the words that were being exchanged it appeared that she was refusing him something, and as I hesitantly made my way towards them, he finally thrust her backwards, turned and strode away. Coming closer I could see that she was breathing heavily, still obviously shaken by his outburst and actions and it was also clear that she hadn't seen me approaching.
So I spoke to her. 'Excuse me, but are you all right?'
*
Chapter 2
Leslie
She was obviously still recovering from the man's angry outburst and hadn't heard me and I had to repeat the question before she turned her head and saw me. As she did I saw that her face was flushed, her eyes tear-filled and, that she hadn't recognised me.
'I was the man who smiled at you - in the theatre, before the performance, in the foyer.' I said, hoping like mad that she would at least remember that albeit fleeting moment. She looked at me blankly for several seconds and I was quite sure my earlier interpretation of her look must have been totally wrong - but then I was pleased, no delighted to see her expression change as she apparently finally recalled seeing my face. Seeing that, I went on hurriedly. 'When I saw your, er - escort, shouting and being so violent, I thought you might need some help.'