A Tale of Two Lovers

Sarah sung out the last note of "Love Song" in the musical "A Tale of Two Lovers", London's newest west end musical. Benjamin sang his last note and the song ended; the show ended; Sarah's fifth performance ended. Yet something was about to begin.

The cast walked forward and bowed, Sarah and Ben in the front as the leads, their cheeks rosy red with pride and make-up as the crowds stood up and cheered them endlessly.

Eventually, the noise died down, the curtain fell, and Sarah heaved a sigh of relief. "Ahhgh!" she fell forward as Sammy smacked her hard on the back in a gesture of congratulation.

"Well done! You were brilliant!" he said enthusiastically.

"Uh, cheers," she spluttered back, trying to regain her breath. Sammy was a big man, very muscled but clumsy, adoring. One could not help liking him; he was like a mischievous child. His long, strong arms collected up huge piles of props, and Sarah watched as he lumbered offstage.

By that time, the rest of the cast had dispersed, the curtain was drawn up, and the audience had vanished.

Ben and Sarah were left sweeping the stage before being hustled off to remove their make - up and get a drink.

Ben took a sideways glance at Sarah. She was still wearing the long, maroon - coloured Victorian dress she wore for the play. Her long, black hair had been let loose from the confines of the intricate looping and twisting it was subjected to during the play, and now hung loosely down her back. The make-up she had to wear made her eyes look dark and mysterious, as if she had a secret to hide. Ben loved watching her walk, he movements were casual, languid, fluid. She walked with an elegant, easy grace that attracted him to her like a magnet. When she was close to him, he could feel the electricity sparking. However, he first fell in love with her voice. Clear when she sang, perfectly tuned, an instrument giving such simple pleasure yet delighted and riveted him. When she sang the final love duet with him, he fancied she was singing those heavenly words to him, they flowed through his body like water and he forgot the audience and sang to her alone, trying to make her understand he was singing out his heart. Yet he could not make her understand. She stared at him blankly, waiting for the next part where she would sing again to him, blind to the passion racing through his body. Sarah looked at him suddenly and he glanced away, quickly going red. She called softly to him,

"Ben, come here." He walked wonderingly over to hear. She caught up his hand and said, "You were brilliant today. It really sounded like you meant every word you sang!"

He choked. What could he say? He HAD meant every word he sang, he had sung it for her. He realised she would never understand his feelings for her, and that made him sad. He looked down at their joined hands, feeling the sweat gather between them. Looking back up into her face, he whispered,

"I did." He watched as her face changed expressions, surprise, confusion and then astonishment. He left her as her face softened, he did not want to hear her tell him she was flattered, did not want to hear she liked him but only as friends. He turned his back on her, lifted up his broom and walked offstage, leaving her standing there, her hand still lifted as if they were joined again.

*

Sarah watched as he walked away. She wanted to run after him, tell him that she felt the same, that she had wanted him from the very first moment she had heard him sing. His voice made the desire rise course through her like fire, she wanted him, needed him. Yet she was rooted to the spot, unable to move.

By the time he had disappeared, she had let her hand fall down to her waist. Looking down at herself, she realised she must look like a mess, swathed in a Victorian dress, make-up smothered all over her face, threatening to be smeared by the tears making their way out of her eyes. Sniffing, she looked around the place, checking that everything had been picked up. It had, there was nothing else to do. She sank to the ground, wishing she had said something in that moment, wishing he would look on her again as he had when he last sung to her. When they sang together, it was just him and her; she was oblivious to the audience. If only he felt that way, if only they could pour all their passion and desire into each other. Her make-up was beginning to stain her dress. She stood up, steadied herself and made her way swiftly to the changing room.

Once there, she stripped herself of her dress, stepping into the connecting bathroom. There she turned on the shower and stepped in, losing herself to the sensation of the water on her body. It was perfect, cool, and blissful. It cooled down her body, raised her nipples, and made her squeeze her eyes up in delight. She washed herself down slowly, enjoying the bubbles and the smell of the soap. She scrubbed away at the make-up, ran shampoo through her hair and stepped out, smelling like a summer dream. Pulling a towel round her, she reached for the door handle, and stopped. She heard someone in the room outside, someone was rooting through her things.

Smash. Something had been dropped, or broken; she heard a man's voice mumble "Damn." It was Ben; she would recognize that voice anywhere. She debated what to do. If she went in there, what would happen? Would she again get the chance to tell him how she felt? On the other hand, would he run away, scared of rejection? She decided to risk it, reaching for the door handle, she turned in and pushed it in. Stepping through into the other room, she stared at Ben calmly, softly, sexily. *

She stood there before him, the towel wrapped round her, only just covering her breasts, too small to cover more than her upper thighs. She completely took Ben's breath away. Her eyelashes blinked slowly at him, invitingly. He was mesmerized, he forgot why he'd come in here, forgot she would almost certainly BE in here.

"What are you doing?" she breathed, smiling slightly at him, turning her head to reveal a bare patch of smooth, white skin.

"I...," he faltered, he could not remember, and when he did, he knew he could not possibly tell her that he would come in here to find something of hers, anything that smelt of her. He just wanted to have something to sniff, to remember the scent that made his sense whirl.

"I thought I left something in here," he spluttered eventually. She smiled again, walking forward a few paces.

"Have you found it?" she asked. With that, she let the towel slip; it fell tantalizingly slowly down her damp body, until it reached the ground, curled round her feet. Ben breathed heavily, her body began to make him tremble with desire. Her breasts were smooth and round, not too large, but a good handful. Her waist was so slim; she had a perfect hourglass figure. Her thighs were smooth and round, a small patch of dark, fluffy hair between them, hiding what Ben wanted more than anything to bury himself in. He took a few paces forward, until they were within an arms distance of each other. He looked at her uncertainly, what did she want? Was she just teasing him, waiting for his reaction? Or did she feel as he did about her, did she want him?

Brushing all these questions aside, he took the final step forward, pressing his body against hers. She looked up into his eyes innocently, gently, but with a passion that blew Ben away. He slid one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and she leaned up and pressed her lips against his.

*

Sarah felt her lips touch his, felt the spark that run between them, felt him open his lips to let her taste him. The feeling of his arm round her was sending darts through her body. She broke the kiss, took his hand and led him to the small bed that stood there for medical purposes. Turning back round, she pressed her slim body against his, her breasts pushing into her chest.

With a sudden movement from him, she found herself lying on the bed, his arms underneath her, and he was kissing her passionately. She felt her desire for him rise up until she gave a little moan, pulling at his shirt, trying to feel his skin against hers. He helped her, and she watched as he removed his shirt. She reached for his zipper, and undoing that, he pushed his trousers off him until he was clad only in boxers.

His hardness sprung forward, seven inches of pure pleasure. A sudden smile lit her face, and she kissed him again, pulling the boxers gently down away from his body.

Energetically, he kissed her, his mouth trailing little, gentle kisses down her neck and breasts, licking and sucking softly and then hard on her nipples. Whilst sucking on one he would squeeze the other, rolling the nipples around between his finger and thumb until she was bucking underneath him on the bed. He rose back up to kiss her on the mouth, moving his hand down her body until it came to rest between her legs. He moved his hand up and down between her lips. With every pass of her clitoris, she would moan and clasp him to her. He slid down her body, kissing his way from her mouth, down over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs until he was staring at her hot, wet pussy. She took his head in her hands, urging him forward, until his tongue touched her clit, making her jump with pleasure. He sucked it into his mouth, massing it with his tongue, inserting one finger into her pussy, searching for her G-spot. He found it and sucked harder on her clit. He pulled her lips upwards with his own lips, tickled them softly with his tongue, ran his tongue between them until she was moaning loudly and begging him to stop.

With a small smile, he rose up, plunging his cock into her hard, filling her up. She stared at him with pleasure and pain and he began to pump in and out of her. She rocked with his movements, curling her legs around his back, pulling him in even more. He bent his head and began to suck on her nipples, biting them softly. With a shudder, she began to come hard against his cock. He felt the contractions and that set him off. He began to come with her, convulsing against her body, pushing into her hard as if he never wanted to be parted. He took the bedcovers between his teeth and bit hard as he thrashed furiously about.

They lay together, sweat pooling between them as they kissed and cuddled, staring into each other's eyes. Hardly daring to believe what had just happened, they were content to lay together, his head on her shoulder, his hand between her legs.

Within a few minutes, they fell asleep, into dreams of doing it all over again, and when Sarah woke up, the first thing she heard was,

"I love you."