From time to time, I enjoy acting in local theatre. Appearing in a stage play is a great chance for me to stretch myself out of my comfort zone, take on an entirely new persona for a few months, and meet some very interesting people. And sometimes, some really hot costars.
One of my favorite shows was a detective thriller. I played the femme fatale, a woman who was thought to have been murdered but was actually in hiding out of town (her unfortunate friend to whom she'd loaned her apartment was the corpse). Playing the world-weary detective investigating the case was a young man I'd never acted with before. From the first time we read the script together, I could tell there was some heavy chemistry between us.
One night, about midway through the rehearsal process, I called him and invited him to join me at another show (in the audience this time). He readily agreed, and we met at the theatre. After the show, we went for a late-night coffee. We spent the entire night talking and casually flirting, until they kicked us out at closing time. After, we stood outside next to my car for another hour at least, still talking. When I glanced at my phone and realized what time it was, I said, "As much as I've enjoyed talking and hanging out with you tonight, it really is very late. I should get going."
He glanced at the time and his eyes went wide. He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm surprised neither of us has turned into a pumpkin yet." He looked into my eyes, and my body flushed with warmth as sparks flew between us. "I think this show is going to be lots of fun." He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. "See you."
Without thinking, I held tight to his hand as he turned to walk to his car. I pulled him back to me and caught him in a tight embrace, pushing my breasts into his well-toned body. "G'nite," I whispered into his ear. As he moved away again, I again didn't let him go, bringing him in for a quick kiss.
At least, it was supposed to be quick. All the sexual tension which had been building that night (and, let's be honest, during rehearsals to date) suddenly released, and we pressed up against each other as our mouths opened and our tongues slid together. We both groaned into the kiss. I grabbed his shirt in my fists as his hands slid down to caress my tight butt. His technique made my nipples hard inside my bra. We made out passionately for a few minutes before he pulled away. He took a half step back, and I regarded him through half-lidded eyes. We were both breathing heavily. "Wow," he said in a low voice that made my pussy flood. "That was something. Guess that answers the question of how our on-stage kiss will go."
"You said it," I agreed. I squeezed my breasts and licked my lips as I looked him up and down. Then I blew him a quick kiss and got into my car to drive away, before I could give into my desires and try to jump his bones right there. Next time... I promised myself, watching him in my rear-view mirror.
At home that night, I fucked myself hard with my vibrator, imagining his hands on my body, his mouth on my tits, his hard cock driving into my wet pussy. I screamed his name when I came hard around my toy.
The next week's rehearsal schedule included the scene with our characters' kiss, and we were both looking forward to it. In the meantime, we were sending each other suggestive text messages and eye-fucking each other so hard during rehearsals I'm surprised no one in the cast said anything. But when it came time to rehearse the kiss for the scene, he was...fine. It wasn't a bad kiss, but it lacked the energy and passion of our impromptu makeout session from the week before. It was just very workmanlike and professional. I stepped back, confused. What happened to the passionate kisser from the other night? When the director said, "We'll work on it," he gave me a small, secret smile and a wink. "Y-yeah," I said to the director in agreement. "We'll get it next time."
We were the last ones to leave the space that night. As we were getting our stuff together, I asked him, "What happened with that kiss?"
He gave me the same small smile. "Well, I didn't want her"—meaning the director—"to think we wouldn't need to rehearse some more. Did you?"
Heat rushed between my legs at his words. My heartbeat sped up, and I started breathing faster. "Of course not," I said as nonchalantly as I could. "You're right. That kiss is going to need lots of rehearsal."
