Finally she stopped.
“Wow.”
“Yea,” I replied.
“Well,” she drew a red nailed finger along my legs starting just by my balls and going down to whole way to my knee. “The legs are fine. Just great. And so was this,” she squeezed her pussy around my dick. “I think if you can learn how to act, you’re going to be great. Just great. Now, remember, just because you fucked me, you don’t own me. I’m not going to cast you because of your dick, but because of your talent.”
“Yes mam.”
I found my shorts and pulled them over my cock. Nuts, they were going to need changing when I got home. I might even sleep with them under my pillow to remind me of what had happened.
Chapter 9
as told by Lois Edens Mario was a prick. And he had a prick too. That was all to obvious from his jeans. He seemed to flaunt his sexuality. As stage crew chief for Romeo and Juliet, I was in charge. I was outnumbered by the guys and since it was a one credit course with me in charge of their grade, they sucked up to me.
Disgusting.
Except for Mario; he was annoying. I have long blonde hair which~ I wear in a pony tail most of the time because it’s comfortable and out of the way when I’m working on stage. I don’t wear jeans exactly… at least not faded ones. A fleece lined University sweat shirt in grey and cotton, fleece lined jeans in burgundy is my usual outfit.
Mario’s outfit? A nasty sneer on his round sexy face. His heavy lips curled as if to say, “What are ya gonna do about it?” He wore his pants, tight and pushed out in the basket and a kind of waffle T-shirt, arms bare even though it’s sometimes cold on stage. All he needed was a cigarette pack rolled up in the sleeve and a tattoo to complete the image of a punk.
No matter what I asked him to do, he’d cock his head to one side, inspecting me as if he were a bird (Eagle naturally) and I a low worm. Then he’d shrug… I think he was from New York City. At least that’s what his accent sounded like.
And because he was so… well, impudent, I assigned him the heavy work and then watched his ass flex as he lifted and struggled. He had a nice ass and the front wasn’t bad either.
“Ok, Lois, what’s next?’
We were the only two left. The stage crew has to put in thirty two hours on a show to get their credit and then I decide on the quality of the work.
Mario was behind in his hours… so I’d agreed to stay a little extra to help him catch up. That’s not strictly part of my scholarship. He looked at me, hands on hips, eyes dark and sexy. His black hair was disheveled, as usual, hanging in kind of ringlets over his brow. And always that thick lipped sneer.
As a final insult, he hooked his hands in the frayed belt loops of his jeans.
We both stared at each other. God, he was sexy. And, I might as well admit it, I wanted to see what the bulge was all about. We kept looking at each other.
His sneer relaxed a little. All I could smell was the drying casein paint on the balcony, which we’d just finished moving into place. I could smell him too.
He was all man, or actually boy, being barely eighteen and cocky as they come.
I wondered how he came? Probably by hand, with the attitude he had nobody’d want him… except me. I wished Rick had picked this punk to send out for the stage crew. But I didn’t get to vote on that one.
The stage was deserted. Only the kind of clicking sound of the work lights as they cooked above. “Mario… I…
“You’re hot for my body, aren’t you? I see you staring at my crotch and my ass when you think I’m not looking. But Mario. don’t miss nothing. So, whatca gonna do about it?”
He spread his legs in the macho, I’m the man and you’re the woman pose that some guys use to prove they’re men. If they only knew they didn’t have to prove anything. At least not to me. His fingers were caressing his basket, as if he was in love with the part of him… probably that part of him the most.
“Look, Mario. Fm the crew chief, you’re on the crew. It wouldn’t do you any good, grade wise to come on to me.”
His shoulder slumped while he looked down at the paint spattered ground cloth.
The toe of his big Nike high tops kicked the seam that ran from one side of the stage to the other. His fingers stopped moving. I couldn’t see his eyes. He looked completely defeated.
“Nobody likes me,” he said in a voice that had lost all of his macho. “I just,” his shoulders began to heave and he turned on his heels to face away from me, but not before I caught the glint of a tear in his eyes. He was a little boy now. A lost, frightened little boy. I wondered if I had to be the mother, when I’d have preferred to be the lover.
I walked the two steps that separated us and placed my hand on his shoulder. It was warm. The waffle pattern on his shirt imprinted itself onto my hand. He turned, eyes wet but a smile on his lips. I leaned forward and kissed him right in the middle of his lips.
My hand moved back and forth over his shoulder. He relaxed and glanced at me from under his dark hair. “Why do you give me so much shit, Lois?”
“I give what I get. You’re nice… I’m nice. You’re a bastard… I’m a bastard. You get what you give?”
He shook his head as if this were the first time he’d thought about it. “You mean, if I was nice to you, you’d be mice to me?”
“That’s about it.” I noticed that my voice had lost all its command. We were just people now. A guy and a gal, actually.
He turned on his heels again, body parallel to mine. Then he leaned in and kissed my nose. I tilted my head up and we made lip contact. My hand went half way down his bare arm and them back up again. He shivered as if he were cold.
“If you wore a shirt, you wouldn’t be cold, but no you have to show off.”
“Yeah, I guess.” His voice was so low I could scarcely hear him. His mouth touched mine again; my tongue crept out and feathered across his lips. Mario opened wide and let me in. God he was a hot kid. And I was hot for him.
Two steps and our bodies were touching everywhere from knee to chest. His felt so good against mine, even though he was crushing my tits. Mario’s knee came up between my legs and massaged my pussy mound. That’s when I could feel his crotch, hot like an glue pot against my leg. We ground together as our mouths devoured each other. The pure animal magnetism of him flowed between us. My panties got a little wet at this point.
He smacked off my lips, kissed around to my ear and said, “You want to do it?”
My turn. I nibbled on his ear lobe and whispered, “What it?”
We brushed lips without saying anything. His hand strayed to my breasts and began to play with them. The tough boy’s fingers were gentle and considerate. I liked that. His middle finger found my nipple which he pinched lightly. And then a little harder. Fire shot down my spine and into my cunt. I held him tight, feeling his muscles ripple as he massaged my breast. Another hand crept down my back and the up again, the palm flat with the fingers curling and uncurling.
I could tell he was excited, because the soft warmness of his basket had turned into a hard warmness. My hand went down between us as I sought out his dick.
When I touched it I knew I had something. Or soon would. He was all stiff in his shorts. I could see he had shorts on because there was the edge of the waistband sticking above his jeans. I ran along the thin red line that went around the elastic. Then I pushed my hand down between his stomach and his shorts where I touched light cock hair at first and then a coarser but sparse public bush. Finally I made contact with his dick. It was sticky at the
