Costume Drama Ch. 05-06

Chapter 5

As I have often found final performances are, ours went absolutely brilliantly - not only were there no technical glitches but everyone was in high spirits and so gave of their very maximum - and the audience's response was even more enthusiastic, bringing us all back for repeated curtain calls.

Greg and I had previously agreed that as we would later be spending at least a little time together we would forego the all too hurried coupling in the wardrobe room, saving our energy for when we had more comfortable surroundings in which to expend it.

But during that seemingly interminable twenty minute wait before my cue to head on stage, I admit I regretted that... Those brief, but excitingly enthusiastic fucks had, I realised quite surprisingly, definitely whetted my appetite for much more of that kind of love-making.

However, I also wanted to not only feel those 'pianist's hands' caressing me, but looked forward to the opportunity of finally seeing - and handling - the cock that until then only my pussy had become familiar with.

So, with a rising sense of anticipation, I did my best to enjoy the after-party; mingling, exchanging anecdotes and both giving and receiving congratulations to and from my fellow cast members - and the even more effuse than usual ones from Charles - but all the time keeping one eye on Greg, and the other on my watch.

He sensibly waited until an hour or so had passed, by when the wine and spirits had added to the already pent up exuberancy of everyone else, before questioningly catching my eye. I smiled, nodded, and began to make my apologies for having to leave somewhat early - then within ten minutes or so we were in the seclusion of Greg's car and heading off to the motel he'd found for us.

I don't think either of us took more than a quick glance around the room we'd been given, no sooner had he shut the door behind us than we were in each others arms - lips and mouths literally glued together, bodies straining, hands roaming - fingers gripping each other fiercely.

That first kiss was so prolonged - and so passionate - that it left me quite literally breathless, and I finally had to break free of it, if only to gasp a much needed lungful of air. 'Slow down tiger - we've plenty of time tonight.' I chided light-heartedly.

'Sorry Margie - it's just that I've been thinking all evening about kissing you. You would have to have the most sensuously kissable mouth I've ever seen.' he added fervently.

No-one had ever said anything like that about my mouth before. My hair, eyes, breasts, legs and bottom had all, at one time or another brought comments, but never just my mouth. I liked that, and resolved to prove his compliment was appreciated - starting by pulling his head down again and giving him as passionate a kiss as he had initially given me.

Even as that kiss also lingered - perhaps with more control than the first had had - I felt his hands beginning their exploration; one heading down over my bottom - stroking then gently squeezing it - the other moving around and up to cup, then fondle my breast.

I reciprocated; gripping one of his arse cheeks, and, forcing my other hand between us, finding the already quickly stiffening length of him.

So we stood; our mouths and tongues more than fully occupied, our bodies instantly responding to each other's caresses.

Then I felt Greg's fingers unfastening the buttons down the front of my blouse - and hoped he would like the underwear I'd chosen to wear on this very special night; a wispily light, lavender coloured bras and panty set, made from a combination of silk and wickedly open-work lace.

But that thought was no more than momentary - the moment he'd opened the blouse wide enough to slip his hand inside, I felt his hand slip slipping under my breast - holding it so gently, yet still quite firmly - those long tapered fingers beginning to move slowly over and around its curving fullness.

I felt myself swaying from the sheer pleasure, felt my knees weaken, felt my pussy instantly responding, felt things I'd forgotten I was even capable of.

Then somehow - though I've no idea how he managed it - whilst that hand continued gently caressing, his other slid the blouse right off me - then I had the even more exquisite pleasure of him treating both breasts in that truly magical way. For a moment I thought I would quite literally swoon from the intensity of it.

'What you are wearing is almost as beautiful as what its holding, Margie.' He whispered softly as he continued caressing me. 'So you'll forgive me if I check to see if what else you have on is equally so.'

I was tempted to grab his hands and lift them back up again, press them even more strongly against my by then stiffly swollen breasts and nipples - but he was too quick for me, he'd dropped them down to unfasten and push my skirt down off me.

He gasped when he knelt and saw what he'd uncovered.

For that final performance - knowing where and with whom I'd be spending another hour or two - I had not worn the cotton stockings that had come with the costume, preferring instead a pair of, still white, but ultra-sheer thigh-highs. The panties that matched the bras, were, if anything, even more revealing than it was - the silk merely providing the side pieces, and a small and purely decorative floral motif to the lacy front panel, through which I knew he could - from where he was kneeling - undoubtedly not only see the shadowy triangle of my pubes but also the wetly swollen lips of my pussy.

I looked down to see his eyes slowly moving up over me - 'Sweet heaven!' he exclaimed when he finally reached my downward looking gaze - 'You are ten times more beautiful than I'd thought possible.'

'Are you sure it's not just the pretty lingerie?' I said, rather teasingly.

'Well that might very well help a bit - but I think I can finally see enough of the real you to make a judgement. And in my eyes you are truly stunningly - and very, very sexily - beautiful!'

'In that case I'll accept your compliment with gratitude Greg. But don't you think it's about time I had a chance to look at you?'

As he began to unfasten his buttons, I almost automatically reached behind myself to unfasten my bras. 'No wait! Please wait Margie - let me continue looking at you while you're still dressed like that.' He exclaimed.

Of course I not only wanted to please him, but I also somehow knew that even if I hadn't already been as wildly turned-on as I was right then, just wearing that provocative lingerie certainly gave me a flauntingly sexy feeling. So, as Greg stripped off, I turned, stripped back the covers on the waiting bed and sat on the edge of it.

And what he gradually uncovered definitely pleased me.

Although not overly muscled, those he had were quite clearly defined, and as he had both broad shoulders and a solidly manly chest - his upper half was decidedly attractive. What made it even more so - at least to my eyes - was that, unlike so many younger models, his torso showed no signs of 'buffing and polishing'. In fact he had a surprisingly dense patch of hair - most of which was spread across his upper chest - but, leading down from it to the waistband of his trousers, was an even more temptingly thin line of it.

I imagined myself some time combing my fingers through the denser part, then allowing them to drift slowly down to wherever that thin line led them.

But all such thoughts vanished as he pushed his trousers down, exposing a pair of snowy-white boxers - one leg of which was clearly having trouble restraining the solid bulge inside it - and I could also immediately see just how excited he'd already become by the glistening size of the remarkably large wet area that soiled them.

His shoes and socks went next, then he paused - looking across at me staring at him - before easing his shorts sown over the rearing length of his cock.

They were purely involuntary movements, but I knew that as he did that I'd automatically licked my lips and pressed one hand down between my legs.

And even though I wasn't truly conscious of doing so, I might have spoken the words - 'So that's what I've had up inside me - no wonder it made me feel the way I did!' - because Greg answered.

'I hope you're not disappointed.'

I finally dragged my eyes upwards, saw him smiling hesitantly down at me. 'Disappointed? That's ridiculous - you look magnificent! Now come over here please, I want to touch you, if only to make sure you're really real.' I added as I shifted and lay back.

He came and lay beside me, slipping one arm beneath and around me, using the other to gently pull my head close enough for us to begin kissing again.

As we kissed, our hands went awandering - mine down between us, to feel the hot hardness of the length of him - his fondling my buttocks, then further raising my temperature by slipping in to the even hotter wetness I could feel between my thighs.

I couldn't tell which was the more exciting for me - the feel of the pulsing silkiness of his cock, or the gently insistent stroking and probing of his fingers between my still lace clad pussy-lips. But whichever it was - or as was more likely to be the case, the combination - within no more than a minute or two I knew exactly what I wanted - no, by then, desperately needed!

Breaking from his arms, I rolled Greg over, then slid myself down to well below his knees and straddled him. In other circumstances I might well have immediately done what I had initially planned to, but in the event I paused a moment, just to look down at him. Look down at his cock.

It was undoubtedly both a little longer, and decidedly thicker than Frank's, but more importantly it didn't have the rather unsightly bend in it that his had. Greg's was absolutely straight, and right then, rearing perpendicularly from the dark curly mass of hair that surrounded the base of it.

But, impressive though its actual size was, it was the overall look of it that entranced me - and that was especially true of the look of its head. Its tightly swollen, purple bulbousness, its glossily satin-smoothness, and the way that already high polished surface was enhanced by the trickle of pre-cum that had, and continued to dribble from it.

Right then I really wanted to reach out for it; touch it, stroke it. Feel the vibrant heat of it within my encircling fingers.

Then maybe lean forward so I could take it in my mouth - feel it, lick it, taste it.

Though I knew that one day I would definitely have to do that - and hold it there while I sucked on it, sucked on it until he exploded, allowing me to finally taste his no doubt creamily rich ejaculate - right then I needed it inside the even more demanding other part of me. In fact needed it so badly I didn't even bother to waste the seconds it would have taken to get my panties off - instead, merely dragging the crotch to one side as I shifted up and over him, then pushed myself down the entire length of that seemingly towering cock.

He grunted, then groaned breathlessly as I slid my pussy down on to it - I no doubt did likewise as he both opened and then immediately filled me. Filled that aching void inside me so perfectly that even once I knew I had taken all of it, I ground hard down on to him - then held myself there.

I'm sure no man could ever understand the absolutely blissful feeling of fullness that a woman can experience at that moment - I certainly wouldn't even try to attempt to describe it, but women will know exactly what I experienced. And understand why I continued pressing myself firmly down on that wonderful cock for as long as I did - there was no way I was going to relinquish even a fraction of that pleasure until my own body demanded I do so.

Which of course it eventually did.

So then I fucked him - no doubt wildly, definitely vigorously - hearing myself give a long series of high-pitched cries of totally elated excitement as Greg's upward thrusting rhythmically matched my body's fiercely downward plunging.

Although that time we both knew there was no time constraint on us, so could have taken as long as we'd both wanted to in extending and prolonging our deeply thrilling pleasure - we didn't. Perhaps it was just the strength of the chemistry between us, perhaps some even more deeply buried primal force - but whatever it was that drove us, it did so with an uncontrollably fierce urgency.

But whatever it was, it was something that equally affected both of us, and that time our climaxes were in perfect synchrony - his cock eventually jetting the first powerful gout of semen just as the first of the rolling waves of my orgasm broke through me - then his still pumping thrusting precisely coinciding with the still huge breakers that followed it.

Chapter 6

Some time later, after we had rested, taken a couple of bottles of fruit-juice from the mini-bar, we sat propped-up and as I'm sure most other new lovers do, we talked - for the first time exchanging more personal details; how our lives had brought us to this point, what earlier hopes and dreams had by now faded somewhat, where we saw our normal lives heading to.

I knew Greg had been divorced for some time, and he of course knew I was married, so I thought it important he should know why I had made myself open to his initial, even if somewhat tentative, advances. I explained how Frank's interest had waned in the last year or so, and my suspicion that he had transferred both his emotion and even his physicality, elsewhere. 'Although I'm not an overly religious person Greg, I've never previously even considered being unfaithful - undoubtedly Frank's lack of interest left me vulnerable, but I admit that the chemistry between us was so strong that even if I hadn't been, I might still have responded as strongly as I did. Though probably very much more guiltily.' I admitted.

He slipped his arm around and cuddled me. 'I'm glad you explained that Margie - I really didn't see you as a woman who strayed easily, so I admit I have sometimes puzzled as to why you were so - well shall I say, 'available'.

I giggled, snuggling closer to him. 'Yes I was, wasn't I!'

'And thank heaven you were.' he answered, kissing me, then sliding himself just a little lower on the bed.

He reached across me, cupping one still silk and lace shrouded breast - that first, soft and gentle touch proving more than sufficient to re-stir the embers still glowing somewhere deep inside me. So when he then slid the shoulder-strap off me and I felt those long and tender fingers begin directly caressing me, I felt myself trembling at the sheer delight of it.

He was slow and gentle - patiently and initially beautifully lightly, touching every part of it. His fingers following the curving outline - slipping back and forth in the sensitive crease beneath it - circling, very, very slowly, the puckered flesh around the nipple - then, extraordinarily exquisitely, brushing even more lightly around and over the very tip of its quickly stiffened length.

Then he finally lifted himself over me and bent so he could lightly lick and kiss it.

Right then I wanted to reach up and pull his face hard down against it - feel his mouth close around it, have him suck it, strongly suckle me. But somehow I resisted - feeling certain he would - if I let him - provide me with other, equally wonderful experiences.

And I wasn't wrong!

He continued caressing just that one breast for what seemed like ages, then finally said. 'Roll over please Margie - I want to be able to see and touch all of you now.' And of course by then I was all too eager to comply, then shivered as he unfastened and removed my bras, then slid lower and slowly did the same with my panties.

From that very first evening I had always thought of his hands as being 'pianist's hands' - but what he did with, and to, me in the next half hour made me realise that his skill with them was more like that of a virtuoso violinist. He seemed to somehow know precisely where - how - and for how long - to stroke and caress me until he had wound every single nerve and fibre inside me as taut as a bow-string - then even managed to vibrate them at precisely the right pitch to set my entire body aflame.

He turned and rolled me so he could reach each and every single part of me; my breasts, my arms and hands, my face, my neck and hair, my back, bottom, my legs and thighs - treating each one to more than its fair share of kisses and those even more maddeningly exciting caresses.

As he moved himself above me he whispered words of almost worshipful admiration - telling me he had never met a woman as beautiful as I; never seen one with such a perfectly proportioned body, never seen such lovely breasts, never felt such perfectly silky-smooth skin, never known one who was so lovingly receptive. And much, much more.

But of course although he must have known how much that pleased and delighted me, he must have also known that by then the one part of me that he had yet to touch, was the very part that most desperately needed it. My pussy!

But of course he did not disappoint me - far from it! Waiting until I was little more than a sprawled and helplessly mewling wreck, he finally slipped one hand slowly up along my inner thigh, and somehow knowing that this time he would reach the very top of it, I couldn't help from arching myself so he would have completely free and open access to it.

At first it felt as though he used just very tips of those truly magical fingers; trailing them butterfly-lightly over and around the undoubtedly by then wetly swollen pussy-lips - making me gasp with both the immediate physical excitement and a rising sense of hopeful anticipation.

Then those fingers slipped almost tentatively down into the even danker space between those lips, stirring wetly as they slid deeper, slowly ever deeper.

Once again he took his time, patiently - again maddeningly patiently - and that time almost teasingly - caressing that much more sensitively vulnerable part of me, until my whole body was shuddering convulsively.

Then - wonder of wonders! - I felt him spread my legs even wider than they already were, crouch between them, then press his face against me - against my pussy - his lips and tongue doing - much more briskly - what his fingers had been doing. But, thankfully, actually concentrating most of their stimulation on my rigidly inflamed, and by then almost desperately needful, clitoris.

By then of course I came almost instantly - heaving myself upwards and grinding my pussy hard against his face - shrieking as the waves of orgasm continued rolling through me; each one taking me to higher and higher levels of utterly ecstatic blissfulness.

I had no way of knowing just how long that climax continued on for - certainly both its strength and duration seemed to sap every ounce of energy from me, so when I felt him turning me, I had neither reason nor the strength to make any sort of objection. And even when he lifted me on to all fours, I think I was really insensible as to why he did that. That was until I felt him pushing that magnificent - and by then obviously completely re-energised cock back inside me.

Then he fucked me - that time very, very slowly - perhaps for the first time controlling things so he could fully maximise his own enjoyment. And of course, given the state I was in by then, that suited me absolutely perfectly.

His actions were varied and their effects amazing; sometimes jerkily moving just his tightly swollen cock-head back and forth between my pussy-lips, sometimes pushing just a little more of it inside me, sometimes burying the whole throbbing length - then holding himself there while his juddering hips and clenching buttocks strove to drive it even deeper - sometimes simply sliding it piston-smoothly and remorselessly, in and out of my by then totally re-excited pussy.