While it's a fact that I had seen all of your movies, and envied all your co-stars in the past, particularly those who had acted with you in all your steamy scenes which are a de rigueur in almost all your movies, never had I thought that I would be one day so lucky to not only be considered for a role in a movie opposite you, but also get a chance to audition for a wet-dream-come-true role where I play a virgin who gets seduced by you.
Me, moi, who had always found it difficult to control himself at the mere sight of you in your movies, always dressed so provocatively, that it almost always gave me an instant hard-on. While I had not seen you in real person till very recently, I had always imagined that you would be exuding this sensuous, seductive and enticing perfume, just a whiff of which would get me excited.
Reading the script itself had me so aroused that I had trouble thinking straight. It was simply the most erotic script I had ever encountered in my life. And I almost smiled when I came to the part early on in the script when you call me on the phone and tell me that you are wearing nothing else but your diamonds, perfume and a sexy smile. How I almost ached to hear that voice of yours that rang in my ears from various movies of yours, mouthing these seductive words to me.
And when I rang your doorbell so tentatively, full of apprehensions about my ability to measure up, for the script demanded an almost 90 minutes of sexual build up between you and me, and I am already beginning to be worried about being able to restrain myself for so long. I am aware, after all, that rehearsing for a 90 minute foreplay scene would make it difficult for me to control myself. While I play a virgin, the script is such that after 90 minutes of sheer sexual agony, you show me the way to ecstasy not once but 6 times in a span of the next 60 minutes.
Needless to say, I am trembling in desire already and my heart's aflutter when you open the door dressed in a sleeveless, low-cut black satin top, more than anything else, the first things my senses take in is your spicy perfume, emanating as if from deep within your deep and distracting cleavage that I had trouble averting my surreptitious gaze from. You have obviously just had a bath, because your creamy skin is all aglow, your hair is wet, and the sheer scarlet lace of a thin bra strap is peeking provocatively out of your halter top, contrasting vividly against the smooth, scented skin of your shoulders.
And as my eyes glide down those shoulders, I notice a long pendant that you are have around your neck that is nestling deep within your cleavage inside that black satin top that seems to be just around 9 inches long in all, outlining your ripe and firm breasts encased in scarlet lace. You raise your arms and your breasts thrust out provocatively. I have an irresistible urge to reach out and cup them reverentially, to breathe in those perfumed, perfectly rounded hemispheres. I know I am in dangerous territory.
You smile, with a mischievous twinkle in your sparkling green eyes. "Glad to see me, are you?" you ask me, as you raise your arms to brush back your wet falling hair on your face. As you raise your arms, I stare transfixed, as if hypnotized, in a trance at this sheer sensuous vision in front of me. I am actually in the presence of the one that I have always imagined teaching me the art of love, the one I have imagined making me climb the very heights of sexual ecstasy. The vision that always dances around in my head when I pleasure myself. I remember how when I was in school, and first saw an adult movie, it always used to a rewind of Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, Madonna in Body of Evidence, or Demi Moore in Disclosure. But that was before I saw you in Naked Desire... And here I am, to audition for the part of a virgin 17 year old in You Are Mine...
And I smile as I realize that you are actually dressed for the opening scene that we are supposed to rehearse, and as desired by you on the phone to me, this is the way it would be. We would not just do anything else but play out the script, from the moment I ring the bell. And I realize that my reactions are very much in keeping with the script, without any effort really on my part. I love this. This is going to be easy. I won't really have to act. For I am this 17 year old virgin who's actually staring transfixed at this voluptuous vixen, this ripe, mature, but fit and toned 45 year old who's making it difficult for me to decide whether to concentrate on her heaving, almost exposed breasts with that hypnotizing pendant nestling so provocatively inside that perfumed cleavage or to lean back and drink in the sheer sensuality of the vision in front of me.
"Glad to see me, are you?" you had asked, some part of my brain reminds me. I smile shyly. You know what I am there for. I am this new actor hankering for a part in your new movie, the one you have gone to some trouble to choose. Being a method actress, you actually wanted someone totally innocent, totally virginal, someone who's never been alone with a naked woman, whose lips have never kissed a woman's lips. "And I do not just mean the nether lips," you had said seductively licking your lips.
"Would you like to kiss my lips, boy?" you say, tousling my hair by way of a greeting. I almost gasp, aware that my tight jeans is bulging obscenely. My young manhood is standing at attention, hard and throbbing, hurting, making me uncomfortable in my tight Jockey and jeans. "And I do not just mean these lips," you say suggestively, as I notice your scarlet red lips that your tongue is licking.
I gasp. Wondering what you might be alluding to. She couldn't possibly mean, like, er, down there, I muse. I know that it is a dialogue straight from out of the script, but you seem to be so much in character. And you look good enough to eat. But I tremble as I suddenly am aware of your spicy, sensuous perfume almost oozing into my senses, making me dizzy with desire.
You are aware of the effect you have on me. Your eyes have drunk in the sight of my tenting jeans. You smile wickedly. As I am aware of your other hand on my chest. Just brushing against my nipples. My eyes are riveted on yours. And your other hand has wandered its way into my ear. Your fingers trace the outlines of my ear. I moan audibly. Surprised myself at the effect the touch of your fingers on my chest and ears has. You smile. "Like it, do you? Wait till I get my lips on them," you murmur in my ears, your warm breath fragrant against my face.
Now I had read these words in the script, but somehow coming from your luscious red lips, these words have an immediately arousing effect on me. I can see a tingle begin in my nipples, and that is not helped by the feel and sight of your scarlet red nails on my crisp cotton shirt. I almost moan out loud as I find that it is tracing circles around my aureole. I had never thought of my nipples as an erogenous zone, but the very touch of your finger is electrifying. I can feel jolts of electricity carouse through my body, traveling south, to the very core of my manhood that is now spasmodically throbbing, and throbbing violently.
You pointedly gaze at my obscenely bulging jeans, and assuming a Mae West posture, you say, "So you sure seem glad to see me, boy, wait till my lips touch your skin, and then my tongue, and then my bare breasts, my toes, my clit, my pussy," you smile, knowing fully well that your use of these words is driving me wild. And as you say this, you lean forward to kiss me through my linen shirt exactly over my right nipple. I moan, feeling your warm breath through the thin fabric. I gasp as you raise your head, and there is a perfect lipstick mark there. "And I am going to leave these lipstick marks all over your body," you say, while you kiss me on my other nipple through my shirt, the symmetrical lipstick marks on both sides of my chest seem like a pattern, and I am so aroused that I could come were it not for a superhuman effort to control myself by trying to think of other things.
But my body is responding differently. I am moaning out loud by now. I am already in heaven, as you seductively brush your breasts against me, your tongue darts out teasingly, and as I wonder with longing whether it is going to reach out and touch my lips, you pause mischievously to only lick your luscious lips. I instinctively pull back a bit, aware that my hard throbbing manhood is rubbing against your navel, your belly button is bare, as your halter top leaves enough space between your low-waisted skirt and the bottom of it, while I am getting dizzy under the unfamiliar scents of a mature, ripe woman in a low-cut halter-top.
Your other hand has now left my hair and begun to caress my neck with the most neutral of touches, while you moan suggestively to me, mouthing, "O, baby" again and again, as if stroking a pet, now almost moving to my earlobe. "So, do you think you would be able to save yourself from me, virgin boy?" you ask. Your wandering fingers meanwhile are now playing with the base of my throat, exposed in my open-necked shirt, as you move your head down to my shirt and, in one violent but incredibly sexy stroke, rip the top button off with your teeth, looking up to smile at me wantonly. You raise your head, as your hand slips inside my shirt, finds my right nipple and begins to circle it with one finger. Your other hand, I notice, is repeating the motion on your own breast through your halter-top, "Ssshhhh," you tell me. "Not a word, and not a move, else I'd stop what I am doing, and you wouldn't want that, would you?" I groan aloud and you drink in the sound like a true gourmandise - my first groan as a man, you conclude, feeling my nipple harden, as I can almost visibly see the change in yours through satin and lace.