Alice Moore
Amorous Actresses
Chapter 1
As told by Fancy Jones I was the only one left in the costume shop. That’s what comes of being an undergraduate major in Drama at the U. The teachers leave earliest, then the graduate assistant, then the people who don’t care about their work, then there’s me left. Me is Fancy Jones; my parents had been reading too much 19th century fiction when I came along. They’d never read a modern sex book either, because they never told me anything but, “Don’t.” And that’s been perfectly satisfactory. I’ve had boy friends and all and an occasional hand in a forbidden place, but nothing else. I don’t even know what a dick looks like, except from drawings on washroom walls.
I was getting hungry too. But I had one more fitting. The drama department was doing Romeo and Juliet next and we were in the midst of costumes. Dr. Koenig had done the sketches. Now we, as Costumes for the Stage Drama D117 had to follow the costume through from the first to the final fitting I’d drawn Mercuctio. He was going to be dressed in black velvet and black tights with silver trim and red slashings, to symbolize the fact that he was going to be slashed in the fight with Tibalt. Dr. Koenig was a little bit more psychological in her explanation, but that was it.
I was going to have to measure… let me check my notes, Jim Benson. I’d never seen Jim and he’d never seen me, but I was supposed to push the end of my tape up beside his testicles… see I’m so inhibited that I can’t even call them balls… and see what his inseam was. I’d pointed out that he was wearing tights, which didn’t have an inseam, but Dr. Koenig said, it was all in the practice. Some of the other student’s laughed. Ginny had whispered to me, “afraid of a handful of balls?” She was right.
Oh, where is Jim Benson aka Mercutio? I wanted something to eat. I was dreaming of the hot dogs in the fridge back at the apartment. I could see the thing now … ooops, I wonder if Freud would have anything to say about that symbol.
“Ahhh… Miss?”
I turned. What a gorgeous guy. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark mustache and a great body. He was wearing a grey university athletic shirt with short sleeves. On his left arm there was a dark blue tattoo of an eagle perched on a nest, ready to take off. The rest of him was encased in grey sweats. He may have been color coordinated in grey down to his shorts, if he was wearing any. I checked.
Nothing much that I hadn’t seen live showing. I glanced at my assignment sheet, “Jim Benson, Mercutio?”
“Right. Got held up.”
I couldn’t imagine that. With his muscle he could have had the attacker down on the floor begging for mercy in ten seconds.
“Stand up on the box please. I have to measure you.”
He grinned, “I bet you do.”
I think I must have blushed, because Jim touched my hand, “Didn’t mean to offend you.”
For such a rugged looking guy, he seemed gentle. I’ve been measured before.”
Well, why didn’t Dr. Koenig just take the measurements out of the files?”
“I wouldn’t have had the privilege of being measured by such a pretty girl.
You’re?”
“Fancy Jones.”
“Plain or Fancy, I like you.”
I looked at my feet. I’d worn a high fashion outfit today, including black boots, a pair of black trousers with pleats and slash pockets. They were really loose. I don’t like to display my body. It only attracts men and as mother said … well, I’d rather not go into that.
I tugged at the sleeves of my bright green sweater and shook my head. The black scarf tied around my long hair at the back scratched my neck.
Jim stepped up on the posing stand, if you want to call it that and turned toward me, legs spread apart. I gulped, pulled the yellow measuring tape through my fingers and began. Biceps. Chest. Neck. Head. Waist. I could feel that he was very muscular under his sweats. His arms certainly showed that when I measured them. I put his feet on the shoe gauge. Big feet. Thirteens.
Somebody had once said… but that was something I wasn’t going to find out.
I looked at the crotch of his sweats.
They were low. I mean, I’d really have to dig to take his inseam measurement. I must a blushed.
He said, “We have one more measurement to take.”
“I know, but… ”
“You’re embarrassed? “Yes.”
“I should have worn tighter pants. Then it would have been easier for you.”
I nodded as if I knew what I was talking about.
“Here, let me make it easier for you.” Jim bent forward, his dark eyes fixed on mine and slid his sweats all the way down. When I stood up I really blushed. He was wearing a jock underneath. His legs were hairy. He pulled his sweat shirt up, even though there was nothing that direction left to measure. He was hairy all the way up to his chest. He was grinning at me. “Go ahead, take my measurement.”
I was still kneeling at the edge of the platform. I could smell him. You know how guys smell. Like in a gym after they’ve been practicing. He was looking at me from under his eyebrows.
“Maybe the jock’s in the way.” Before I could stop him, he’d slid the jock down. And there it was, my first ever live cock. My throat went dry. I gulped.
It was soft, drooping over his balls. See I can say it. The head was wide, like a mushroom perched on top of a thick stalk. Thicker than a couple of fingers.
Suddenly spit filled my mouth, as if my body had made a decision. I became bold. I pushed the cold metal tab of the tape next to his balls and measured his inseam.
I dropped the bottom end and wrote the measurement down, 36. Tall guy. But I didn’t remove my fingers from next to his nuts. I just stared at his cock. It seemed to be growing. There was a oblong slot in the end of it. I guess that’s where he let go through.
I glanced up. He was grinning as if he knew something I didn’t know. I watched his cock fill up inch by inch, getting less flabby and adding more backbone.
“You like that?”
“I’ve never seen one grow like that before.”
“Touch it. It won’t spit at you… at least not yet. If you had your pretty mouth wrapped around it it might.”
What would mother say? I didn’t care: I dropped the tape to the floor and began to feel him up. At first as I squeezed the tube it gave a little. But then as I stroked it his thing became longer, it was harder to squeeze. Finally, I had him all the way up.
“Go ahead, take a taste?”
Up to this moment, I’d thought of a guy’s thing as nasty. But this was so streamlined and glossy. I pulled forward on his thing and watched his balls move around, framed by his jock.
“Go ahead. Suck me.”
I don’t know what came over me. I just did it. I mean, I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue and began to lick on the bottom of it. I must have done something right, because Jim began to move his hips back and forth,
