Work in Progress - an excerpt to be going on with!
'Everybody seems to be pairing up.' Tonks tapped her foot rapidly to release some pent-up energy. When she was as wound up as this, sex was her tranquilliser of choice. Looked like everyone else was of the same mind.
Jason slid an arm around her shoulder. 'You're getting your nervous twitch again, Tonks. Does that mean what I think it does?'
Tonks shivered at Jason's touch. Right now she would shiver at any man's touch. 'Your observation skills are pretty hot tonight,' she said.
'You're pretty hot tonight, yourself.'Jason brought his lips close to her ear. 'Why don't we leave them all to it and go backstage for a while?'
Tonks closed her eyes, desire rising in her like sap in the springtime. Jason Stanley wasn't the prettiest ribbon in the box but he had something. She knew what it was, too. It lived inside his jeans.
'Backstage?' she said, acting coy. 'Whatever for?'
Jason raised an eyebrow. 'Come with me and I'll show you.'
'Well, I suppose I'd better follow the Director's instructions,' said Tonks demurely, 'like a good actress should.' It wouldn't be the first time she'd made out with Jason. It wasn't anything serious. Just a pleasant occasional fuck. Something to relieve the tension. 'Sure your mother can handle George if you're not here to protect her?'
'It's the possibility of her handling George that bothers me.' Jason scowled down into the auditorium again. 'But I don't suppose they can get up to much down there in the stalls.'
He took Tonks' hand and they sauntered innocently through the hardboard French doors, feigning an interest in the construction of the box set. Then, slipping through the blacks, they hurried down the narrow passageway at the back of the stage.
Fumbling in the dark, Tonks pushed at a swing door, held it open for Jason then let it swish quietly closed again. Her heart beat rapidly at the thought of the illicit pleasures to come. Even if what they were about to do wasn't all that illicit, sneaking off like this made it seem as though it was. The darkness and the distant sounds of the party added a frisson of danger. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl heading furtively off to the bike sheds for a session of cigarettes and lovebites.
At the end of the corridor the men's dressing room was squeezed between a store cupboard and the lavatories. Stepping in front of her, Jason opened the door and led Tonks inside. The stale smell of maleness hit her as she entered the cramped room. Sweat, smoke, greasepaint - semen? What did those guys get up to in here? Jason flicked on the harsh white light and took her in his arms.
'Jason! kill the light. I look like I'm auditioning for the Bride of Dracula.' Tonks covered her face to hide her reflection from herself.
Jason flipped the switch again and drew back the heavy curtains, allowing the sodium orange light of a streetlamp to spill into the room. He pushed her down onto the old divan that stood against the wall.
As her head touched the rough moquette, another smell assaulted Tonks' nostrils - sweet, sickly but not unpleasant. She reached behind her and felt the smooth silk of Mickie's pyjama bottoms, redolent with aftershave and deodorant. She smiled in the darkness. Good to know that he, too, had been afraid of having the true odours of his body detected when they were in bed together.
She had drenched her crotch and armpits in perfume every night, fearful lest any hint of pheromone leaked out. But tonight she had showered and washed the perfume off, so Mickie's aftershave hit her full on instead of mingling imperceptibly with the olfactory camouflage she used herself. Tucking the pyjamas under her head, she settled back. They were softer than the rough divan and made an excellent pillow.
Jason lowered his wiry frame onto her. 'Oh Tonks,' he murmured, 'will we ever see each other again?'
'Sure,' said Tonks, 'all we have to do is put the light back on.'
'Oh you know what I mean.' His denim-encased erection was rubbing against her thigh. 'The theatre world is so fickle. A month or two in rehearsal, a couple of weeks performance, and then it's goodbye. We will keep in touch, won't we?' He nuzzled her ear and lightly kissed her neck.
'Jason,' she hissed through her teeth, 'just fuck me, will you? I'm out of my mind for it.' And she was, too. Inside her tight jeans her crotch was damp with anticipatory juices. She undid her zip and wriggled underneath Jason until she got the jeans over her lean hips and off one leg.
Jason slid his long fingers into the flies of his black-black 501s and slowly undid the buttons. 'You'll just have to wait for it,' he said. 'Timing is all. As an actress you should know that.'
He pulled off his black t-shirt, his pale body jewelled by the orange light, his profile - large nose, full lips, bobbing Adam's apple - silhouetted against the window pane. Slowly, he drew his legs out of his jeans and knelt over her.
Pulling her own t-shirt over her head, Tonks lay back so he could take her small breasts in his hands. Her inner thighs were sticky with the wet warmth of vaginal secretions. Her face was hot. Encircling Jason's prick with one fist, she pulled him towards her.
'Timing!' he scolded, and slid down her body until his thick dry lips met her lower wet ones. Then he lapped and lapped and lapped, until she came in a rippling wave of ecstasy, the flush of orgasm spreading from her breasts to her brow. Only then did Jason lift his head and prepare to slide inside her.
Festival Frolicks - Coming Soon!
Meanwhile read The Stiletto Heel and Other Stories
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