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 tip, hard and pulsing. I investigated the tip. It was kind of like a blunt point. My fingers touched a rim of skin and slid down his cum tube. I traveled quite a ways to the soft pouch of his nuts.
His hands were working on both my tits now, while his knee massaging my pussy with devastating effect. We backed away from each other so we could look. He found my belt after lifting my sweats and undid it… I stood there, knees shaking, letting him. He popped the metal button and yanked the zipped down. My ass cheeks began to tremble now too as he pulled my jeans down and then stroked my mound through the cotton of my panties.
I wanted to see what I was feeling looked like. I fumbled at the top button of his jeans, forced the zipper down and the soft pants down to his knees. His underwear was a strange as his waffle T-shirt… a packed pouch in dazzling white which contrasted with his olive skin. I snapped the elastic forward and gasped. What a beautiful hunk of meat. It seemed to widened out as it went down. His nuts were hanging one below the other in an almost hairless pouch. I clamped my hands around his cock and jerked on it. He had his middle finger shoved down my panties, parting my cunt lips. Then he curled it up and into my opening. We were both kind of glaze eyed-by then.
“Suck me a little.”
“Only if you will.”
His fingers was twisting in my cunt. It was thick, but his prick was thicker. I wanted it inside me, riding me… shoving deep.
I spit into my hand and coated his dick to kind of prime it. Then I knelt on his Nike’s and opened wide. There was a musky taste when I first closed around his thing. Musty and masculine. I sucked in long strokes, allowing a lot of spit to leak out of my mouth and flow down his fat shaft to the ball sac. My fingers were rubbing the rivulets into his nuts.
“Enough.” Mario pulled me to my feet and knelt before me. I pushed my hips forward, which parted my cunt lips. He twisted his head to the side and began to lick up and down my crack.
I watched his cock bounce between his knees. I put my hands on his shoulders, lifting him to his feet. “Juliet’s bed.” He nodded. We kicked off our jeans and walked up the balcony where the leading lady would bend to urge Romeo to climb.
Inside the door, was a bed, seen only by the people in the balcony, even though the floor was tipped up. We sat on the edge of the bed and kissed, my hand wetting itself on his cock. His finger plugging my sopping cunt.
In a kind of slow motion, I pulled off his shirt and he my sweats and then bra.
We rotated onto the bed and pressed together, his chest crushing my tits. I was aware of his cock pressing against my belly. Not only because it was wet, but hot enough to burn me.
We kind of rotated back and forth, his cock leaving a trail across my belly. I pushed my hand between us and cupped his nuts. His hips ~moved down… I tried to follow.
His hand came into the cavity and bent his prick down, raking past my cut and folding back my cunt lips until he found my hole. The Mario circled his dickhead around my opening a couple of times. I relaxed, spreading my legs so that one was on the bed and the other up in the air.
We heard a door slam down below the stage and froze. I couldn’t stand the tension any more. My fingers traced his dick along the back from where his head was just barely poked into me to the wiry hair patch.