by Dixon Carter Lee ©
We had been rehearsing "Godspell" at Carter High School now for one week, every day after school for three hours. Patti was doing fine, and she was very sweet to me and learned quickly. I cast her in the "Day By Day" role, and her scenes with Jesus were touching. She had such an unaware quality; unaware of her budding beauty, and desirability. I couldn't believe that the boys in the cast didn't ogle her more, but I put that down to high school cliquedom. But she was kind of shy, and didn't really banter with the other cast members.
And she certainly gave me plenty to fantasize about. One night on a break I went to the cafeteria, which was plastered with colored streamers and pep rally posters that read "Go Rams!". The place still smelled like spaghetti sauce and peas. Patti was talking to her mom on the telephone. She was sitting on the floor, wearing a pair of baggy gym shorts that billowed at her soft thighs, offering tempting views up her shapely legs. Her knees were open, and between her legs I could see the stretch of her pussy mound pushing out from under her shorts. As she chatted she casually opened her knees a bit more, and I got a good view down her shorts, and caught just a glimpse of white panty, and that beautiful hollow girls have on either side of their pussies. I imagined slipping a finger across that hollow, sliding it under her panties and into her cunt, finger-fucking her while she talked to her mother. "This is a good one." I thought. "This will be a good fantasy for later."
"Do you need me?" she asked, looking up.
I was getting myself a coke from a machine and had stopped to stare at her. She obviously thought I wanted her to get off the phone and get back to rehearsal. Geez! Now I was fantasizing right in front of her! "Yes, break's over." I said, and then, in a more flirtatious manner, "Is that Mommy? Say hello for me."
"Mark says hi." she giggled into the phone. "Yeah, he's the one I told you about. Okay, I'll see you later. Tell Dad I need some help with Geometry tonight. Bye." She hung up.
"Talking about me, eh?" I said, sipping my soda.
Patti stayed on the floor, and looked up at me brightly. "She thinks she saw you in some shows here. My brother was in your class."
She was chewing gum and blew out a big bubble while she talked. "Tommy Cielo."
"Oh yeah! I remember him. What's he doing?"
She popped the bubble. "Air conditioner repair. He lives with his wife in New Haven. Did you really do a car commercial?"
"That is so cool. Was it fun?"
"Boring, actually. It took four days to shoot."
She was still casually bouncing her knees opened and closed, offering me flashes of white, creamy thigh while we chatted. Her halter top left her arms and tummy bare, and I could see a good amount of cleavage. My cock was rising, and I couldn't stand in front of her for very long or she'd notice. "Allright, back to rehearsal." I said, reaching out a hand. She took it with a groan and I pulled her up. "Don't groan or you get a spanking. Let's go." Her hand felt warm and soft in mine, just the perfect size.
"Slave driver!" she moaned, like a little girl forced to clean her room.
"Move it! Move it!" I said, miming a whip and making cracking sounds. I gave her a little slap on the butt. She giggled and ran out of the cafeteria.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching, then reached into my pants and re-adjusted my cock, which had become engorged. I wanted to run to the bathroom and jerk off right there, but I could hear Mr. McCoy start playing the piano in the theatre, and I knew everyone was gathering for rehearsal, so I buried my lust and went back to work.
Some of kids had taken to sitting with me in the back to watch scenes they weren't in. We'd joke and goof around a little, and this time I was kind of using their heads as bongo drums as I tapped out the melody of "When Wilt Thou Save the People". It was a typical, childish, high schoolish thing to do, and they all laughed. Patti was sitting in the seat in front of me. I could see her pink bra straps underneath the straps of her white halter. The back of her neck was smooth, and I could smell an apple scent from her hair. "Okay." I said, "let's run through the Prodigal Son parable. No stopping. Let's see how much you remember."
Patti turned around. "You want the music?" she asked. She was supposed to play the concertina during the parable, but she was having trouble learning it.
"God no! You suck." I said loudly. All the kids laughed.
"Hey!" she said, slapping my knee playfully.
"Work on it at home." I said. "Let's do it without the music for now."
So everyone but Patti jumped up on the stage and started running through the scene. Since I had already established a kind of playful touching with everyone else, I chanced a little pat or two on her head. She didn't flinch, so I moved the drumming down to her shoulders, where I could touch a little naked skin. She lurched her shoulders up a bit at my touch, pushing against my fingers like she wanted a massage. I knew she didn't need one, she never really got tight, or needed much warming up, but I started to lightly massage her shoulders anyway, still very innocently, like a big brother. This was the most I had gotten to touch her, and her skin felt good, very taught and muscled.
She continued to lurch her shoulders up, and finally leaned back a bit, dropping her head on the back of the seat with her head looking up, eyes closed. This made it harder to massage her the back of her shoulders so I moved to the front a bit, squeezing her upper arms. She seemed to be enjoying it. In this position, with her in front of me, her head draped back over the top of the seat, I got a nice view of her bosom, pushing out from underneath the flimsy halter top. I could see her deep cleavage, and watched the curve of her boobs grow and shrink as her chest rose and fell with her breathing. Oh my god, what a sight! Teenage breasts! Actually skin. Round and full. Healthy and pink. Right in front of me. And I was touching her, squeezing her arms and shoulders, just inches from that beautiful chest.
Again my fantasies took over. I imagined myself going further, reaching down her throat, down her chest, sneaking my hands under the top of her halter and gliding over her soft breasts, the nipples rubbing against my palms and getting hard. I imagined standing up so I could run my hands down her little body, to her exposed, flat stomach, which I would tickle and tease. I did rise a little, and peeked down, and I could see a hint of white panty peeking out from the top of her baggy gym shorts. I imagined slipping my hands under her shorts, feeling her taught thighs, and running my fingers down to her pussy, and then sneaking a finger underneath the band of her panty and slipping it into her cunt. I imagined how soft and wet and warm her pussy would feel, and smell, and how squishy it would sound, and how I would fuck her with my finger. I imagined that I had no pants on, and that as I reached over her my cock would slide into her young mouth.
"Should we do it again?" said someone from the stage.
I looked up, the fantasy shattered. I realized that while I was imagining all this my hands had unconsciously moved just a little too far down her front, just about three inches from her boobs, and I had a finger inside each of her armpits. I was no longer massaging. I was kneading. But Patti hadn't moved. She still had her eyes closed and was breathing heavily now, almost moaning.
I hadn't really gone too far with Patti, but I still needed to give her a nonchalant pat on the head. An innocent touch to subconsciously reassure her that all the touching had been innocent.
Man did I need to jerk off. I called a ten minute break before the vocal rehearsal.
I was standing now, and my cock was nearly brushing against the back of Patti's head. She opened her eyes and looked right up at me. "Thanks." she said, with a big smile, and ran off to take her break.
I headed straight for the dressing room backstage, which was really a utility closet the drama department had turned into a dressing room years ago. Rusty water pipes hung from above, and the cinderblock walls were chipped and gray, but we had put in some tables and chairs and mirrors, and it looked enough like a dressing room now, especially with all the yellowing posters from old shows hanging everywhere. I needed privacy, and this was the perfect place. No one would be coming in. A black curtain separated the girl's side from the boy's, but the kids usually did all their changing in the bathrooms down the hall, since it was too easy to peek around. And since we'd just started rehearsals we hadn't gotten to make-up yet, so no one would need the mirrors. And the place was dark. Since the dressing rooms weren't really being used the light bulbs hadn't been replaced yet, and only one on the girl's side worked. It was empty, dark and cozy. Perfect.
I made my way over to the boy's side where there was no light, closed the curtain, and lay down on a tiny futon. I opened my fly and pulled out my cock, which was gorged and badly needed relief. I had a small towel with me (I had learned now to always bring one to rehearsal), and laid it across my stomach. I began to stroke, thinking of Patti. I could smell her on my fingers, where they had slipped into her armpits. It was the odor of young skin, mixed with a little perspiration and some sort of baby powder scent. It was the baby powder scent which drove me mad. I squeezed my cock harder and was almost ready to come when I heard the door open. I was behind the curtain, in the dark, but I only had a few seconds should someone decide to come all the way in. I grabbed the pillow, covered myself, and closed my eyes, feigning sleep.
I heard someone toss a bag on one of the tables on the girl's side, and I heard the door lock. A lock! That door hadn't had a lock when I was in high school. If I'd known about it I would have locked it myself. I heard a zipper open, probably the bag. I opened my eyes and realized that by looking in the mirror I could see around the curtain to the girl's side. And there was little Patti, pulling a pair of jeans and blouse out her dance bag. She was going to change clothes. In front of me. I was going see her naked. With my dick out!
I realized what must have happened. All the kids were probably changing out of their dance clothes, in preparation for the vocal rehearsal. They had all gone down to the bathrooms. But Patti, still somewhat shy, had elected to change here, in privacy.
I sank back onto the futon as quietly as I could. She could still decide to throw the curtain open, and I'd have to pretend to be asleep. And I wouldn't have time to put my dick away, so I kept the cushion over my cock and tried not to make a sound.
I had a good view of her in the dusty mirror, though she wouldn't be able to see me in the darkness. She tugged at her halter top, pulling it over her head. She was facing away, so all I saw was her smooth, white back, and the straps of her pink bra. She had a lovely figure, soft and round up top, a nice tapering at the waist, and an elegant lower back that disappeared into her shorts.
She reached around and unhooked her bra, and off it came, leaving little red marks on her skin. I squeezed my cock in sweet agony. "Turn around, turn around..." I begged silently. Finally she did. Her breasts were perfect, round and creamy, like two scoops of ice cream. Not huge, just perfectly formed, and tight together. She didn't even need the bra. I noticed that her nipples were very hard, and it pleased me to know that she probably got a little excited by the massage.
She turned to admire herself in the mirror. She rubbed her shoulders where I had massaged her, raising her arms to reach. Her pits which were smooth and hairless. As her back arched her tummy pulled away from her shorts, making an inviting gap, just large enough for a hand to slide in. Another fantasy took over, and I imagined my hand slipping down that opening, a finger sliding easily into her panties, past her soft hairs, and into her dripping pussy. I had often fantasized about the girls on the other side of that curtain when I did shows here, and here was a fantasy coming true. I felt sixteen – a very horny and happy sixteen. I had to squeeze my cock again, but I didn't dare stroke it, or make any kind of noise. It was torture! I would never get a chance like this again. The high school jerk-off fantasy of all time coming true right in front of me, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it!
But the torture was just beginning. Patti was more turned on by that massage than I thought. With her eyes closed she ran her hands down to her chest, and cupped each breast in her hands. She gave out a little gasp when she felt her nipples, and she arched her back even more. Christ! I realized that she was fantasizing. About me! "Hold on!" I thought, "Maybe not me. Maybe about some teenage boy she has a crush on." But I sensed strongly that it was my massage which had put her in this lusty mood. I could tell that Patti wasn't used to touching herself, because her eyes were squinting in a disapproving way, like she was mad at herself for squeezing her breasts and feeling sexual. But she didn't stop. As her breath quickened she pushed her breasts together harder, her fingers fumbling over her nipples, not quite sure how to excite them. She clinched them between her fingers, and pinched them. Her head was thrown back, and she was still standing, almost tipping over. "Uh—uh—uh—uh…" she was moaning deeply.
I couldn't stand it! I squeezed my cock harder and pumped very slowly, almost letting a gasp out myself.
Patti dropped her right hand down, teasing it around the waistband of her shorts. She slipped her hand inside, and fumbled around a bit, finally letting out a cry. "Oh...Oh...OH!" She must have put a finger inside herself! She opened her eyes, saw what she was doing in the mirror, and got very red. She pulled her hand out of her panties and went to change clothes. But it was too late to turn back now. She was seriously turned on, and had to do something about it. So she closed her eyes and tickled her way back down her body, lightly drawing her fingers across her boobs and tummy, and slipping them back into her shorts.
Lord, oh Lord, I needed to jack off, man! But I was afraid of making too much noise. And then, a miracle occurred! Mr. McCoy began playing the piano – loudly. The vocal rehearsal was about to start, and Mr. McCoy was warming up by playing a little bit of "We Beseech Thee", a fast, loud piece. The music seemed to spur Patti on even more. She quickly stepped out of her shorts, revealing her white, cotton panties which were drenched now with juice. She tossed the shorts away, stuck a finger in her mouth, pushed away the crotch of the panties, flashed a cleft of teenage pussy, and slipped her finger inside.
I couldn't stand it any more. With the piano racket I could now jerk off with relative safety. I squeezed my cock and started to pump. So Patti and I jerked off together.
She moved her other hand down now, and rubbed her clit through the panties. She continued to thrust her finger in and out of her cunt, and rubbing her clit. "Nu—Nu--Nu—Nuuuuuu…" she moaned, furiously pushing against her hands. Her whole body started to vibrate, her legs quivering like jelly. She nearly screamed as she came.
She was amazing. She clearly had no great experience at masturbation, but still managed to bring herself to a knee-bending, earth-shattering orgasm. Spent, she bent over the table, her white panties wet from what might have been her first orgasm. She still hand one hand inside her underwear. I could see a trickle of cum dribble down her thigh.
At that I felt my balls stiffen. I gave my cock one last tug, and shot a huge load of white, creamy cum all over the T-shirt. "Holy shit God Almighty!" I whispered to myself.
Then Mr. McCoy called out "Break's over! Everyone on stage."
Patti quickly moved to dress herself. She started to slip off her panties, and I caught a glimpse of her tight little ass, but she moved over to where she had thrown her bag, and I couldn't see her pussy. She quickly changed underwear, and clothes, and hurried back to rehearsal.
I cleaned myself up, tossed the towel in my own bag and buttoned up my jeans, not so easy considering my cock was still very red, and very hard. I waited a few minutes, and slowly opened the door. No-one was backstage. Thank God. I slipped out of the room, and out a side door to the hallway. I made my way down to the lobby, and entered the theatre from the front, as if I had just come from the boys bathroom. I jumped up on the stage, and stood right behind Patti who was singing along with everyone else. She was singing full out. I guess all that moaning and panting really got her lungs going. She was dressed now in jeans and a blue and white blouse which billowed out hiding the curve of her waist and her rounding hips. From the back she looked about twelve years old. I leaned in a little closer, and could smell her hair again, that wonderful apple scent.
But there was something else I wanted to smell. I knew she hadn't had time to wash her hands, and they must still be covered with cum. It was perverted, I knew, but I was becoming infatuated with her. I still had no plans to seduce her, she was only a teenager for God's sake. The peeping was a little wrong, I knew, but I hadn't planned it. And now I wanted to know what her fresh little cunt smelled like. I had to know.
"Okay, everybody stop." I said. Patti nearly lept out her skin. She wasn't aware that I was standing directly behind her. I guessed again that she had been fantasizing about me while masturbating, and was now a little embarrassed at my being so close. "You're not all singing together," I said, "so let's arrange you bass, tenor, soprano and alto. All the altos come with me."
I took Patti's right hand, the one that had done most of the finger-fucking, and pulled her across the stage into position. She must have known that her fingers stunk, because she suddenly got very uncomfortable and stood with a frozen look on her face, like she had just been exposed in front of the whole group. Everyone else got into place, arranging themselves in a choral line, and they continued the rehearsal.
As they sang, I paced about the stage listening. "Better, better." I said., finally stopping right behind Patti. She must have sensed me there, because her shoulders suddenly got all tight. "Relax." I said, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing it down. I could feel her bra strap underneath the blouse. "Straighten your back." I said, slipping my hand down to her lower back. I held my hand on her sexy little waist, brought my other hand up to my nose, and smelled her wonderful, intimate odor on my fingers. My cock instantly rose again.
The song ended.
"Was that okay?" asked Patti, turning around.
"Much better." I said. "Much better."
End Chapter II (of VII)
|Send all comments about this story to Dixon Carter Lee.|
contents © Copyright 1999 by literotica.com.