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Backstage Tour

By (user no longer on site)  over a year ago

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I hope some of you might like this story, based loosely on a real incident. Any resemblance to real people or places is coincidental, and any reference to unsafe sex or immoral or improper use of private property is purely for the sake of the fictional story, which is copyright to Lovepaws, 2011, thanks

A few short years ago I studied and worked at a well-known London theatre. My work duties involved looking after the stage and building while groups of mostly American undergraduate students used the space. These sessions had to be fitted around performances, and I often arrived for work as the summer evening audiences were streaming home for the night.

One such evening, I noticed a girl in her early twenties (as I guessed) hanging around the public exit, at the edge of the piazza and indoor complex that framed the theatre proper. As I approached she put on her sweetest smile and asked politely if I could let her stand on the stage for a few moments, and have me take her picture there. She spoke with a soft American accent and seemed to be of Asian descent. My eyes ran over her in a flash, analysing, and I noted large but firm breasts, curvaceous but slim hips and thighs, and a pretty, light brown face fringed with dark straight glossy shoulder-length hair. It was a sultry summer night in the middle of a hot spell, and she wore a brief strappy top with no bra and a flouncy thigh-length skirt.

'I wouldn't normally, but as you're cute and you asked so nicely, come on, but you'll have to be quick and quiet', I answered flirtatiously. She smiled and thanked me.

We made our way into the yard and up onto the stage where I snapped the pretty girl as she posed. My mind was racing. My education group and their tutor were still assembling themselves in the outer lobby so we had a few minutes yet, but this was all a bit crazy.

'Would you like to see backstage', I asked the girl. She jumped at the chance. 'Just be careful, there's a lot of props lying around, and you're not insured to be here!'

The inner room or Tiring House was an Aladdin's cave of various weird and wonderful items and costumes, mostly for 'The Tempest' which had finished a few minutes ago, and would be the matinee again tomorrow. I could hear some of the actors winding-down happily on the piazza outside, but they wouldn't be back in here tonight. The girl found a renaissance carnival mask on a large oak table used mostly by the three foxy actress-cum-dancers who formed the core of the production. She tried the mask on. 'How do I look?' she asked me.

'Like Shakespeare's Dark Lady', I ventured.

'How about now?' she replied, naughtily removing a strap of her top from one shoulder.

'Like a beautiful Venetian courtesan looking for business', I suggested, equally naughtily. My heart thumped in my ears. It was now or never, so I took my courage in both hands, and caressing the girl's bare shoulder, made a proposition.

'Since I came here to study and work, I've had an ambition in the back of my mind, and I bet I'm not the first.'

'Oh yes, do go on', she replied, her dark eyes shining in the half-light.

'I've always wanted to make love backstage with a student, or an actress, or a sexy audience member like you - what do you think, is it possible?' I couldn't believe I was saying these words.

My new friend took the mask off and breathed heavily, contemplating for a second. 'Oh my God, that's so hot, let's do it! I have to be back in the States in a couple days, it's a once in a lifetime chance'.

'We'll have to be quick, my group is due on stage in a few minutes'.

I moved closer and kissed her mouth, tenderly but with the passion the occasion demanded. I easily pulled down the top from her full breasts and was soon fondling them and sucking the dark erect nipples. She pulled my shirt off and began working on my jeans, pausing briefly to caress my stiffening member through the fabric. The girl kicked off her skirt and shoes, like a petite dancer, fittingly, and pulled down my trousers and pants, releasing my straight penis to the warm night air. She slipped back my foreskin and took the head into her mouth, arousing me expertly with her tongue and lips. I couldn't help thinking of an incident a few months before when one of my hot fellow-students had joked about giving me a blow job when I had to direct her to kneel in front of me in a scene on stage - now it was happening for real!

I pulled the girl up to her feet, and we leant back against a convenient large props basket. The dusky young woman was now naked apart from a tiny pink thong which barely covered her beautiful chubby mound. I cupped her there, massaging the soft but firm flesh back and forth, then dropped to my knees as I slipped the undersized panties down her thighs and away from the lovely pudendum that now met my gaze. Her pubic hair was sparse but natural-looking, as if she was customarily neat down there. Her scent was overpowering but luscious, like a bitch on heat. I French-kissed the exquisite slit and sucked on the engorging labia and clitoris, enjoying the taste of this sumptuous cunt banquet, while massaging the exquisite mounds of her pert backside.

'My pussy's so wet, fuck me now please', she moaned to me.

I got up between her splayed tan thighs, and she masturbated me to full hardness while guiding me towards her opening. I pushed in easily, and she gripped me around the waist with her legs, tightening her hot vagina around me. I started pumping her, leaning forward to kiss her pretty face and mouth, and to suck on the now bullet-like nipples.

'Harder baby, take me now', she whispered in my ear.

I held onto her shoulders as I drove frantically onwards into her; our combined sweat pooled on her succulent breasts. She made small quiet cries like a young fawn to her mother, and I sensed we were ready to plunge into oblivion.

The theatre swam around me, and the old city seemed to pause for an instant as if giving approval to the rights (and rites) of young love. Time seemed to flow through our naked bodies like a conduit, as if we epitomised and shared all the love in history for an exquisite and unknowable second. A moment later, I flooded her little vagina with my seed, the circle was complete, and time flowed back into our shared consciousness. When we had finished, we panted in each other's faces, our brown eyes locked together, our hands held in affection. No more words were needed. As a poet, a millennium-and-a-half before Shakespeare, once wrote, 'what happened, happened - so strange, so commonplace'.

I gently lifted her away from the basket, still locked together. As we parted she said, 'Eeuuw, this is gonna be wet'. She mopped her sopping thighs and vulva with her now hopelessly inadequate knickers.

'These are soaked through, there's no way I'm putting them back on, could you throw them away for me?' she asked.

'Or, we could leave them on the table as a memento for the 'Tempest' girls tomorrow, I reckon they'll work out what went on', I suggested.

'That's so disgusting ... yeah, let's totally do that!' she laughed.

I carefully placed the sodden little thong on the table amongst the theatrical bric-a-brac.

'They might even use them in the performance', I added.

'Oh that's gross, but so fucking hot', she replied.

I tenderly swabbed her private parts with a tissue to clean her up the best I could.

'You're a true English gentleman', she joked.

'And you're an real American slut', I responded lightly.

'Oh God yes, I so totally am!' She knew I was joking, but I reassured her with an affectionate kiss to the forehead anyway.

We dressed quickly, and as we emerged onto the stage the group were making their way in for their session. We instinctively held hands in a show of unity. The tutor, a nice laid-back Californian guy, looked at us with an amused, quizzical expression.

'It's alright, the young lady is with me'.

'I'm sure she is. Backstage tour, eh?'

We couldn't help but beam at him, and he smiled back indulgently. I'm sure he knew something had been going on.

I kissed the girl goodbye at the theatre door, and with that she flitted back into the city's night, like a million young women had done before her; she was happy and beautiful, enjoying her life. I really hope she still is today. As I passed back across the yard to the stage, the old bell across the river sounded the quarter-hour. The wooden round of the theatre breathed, then sighed in the night air.

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By (user no longer on site)  over a year ago

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Very hot story thanx

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