The Amateur Players (Closed for TheWorldBuilder)

[TheWorldBuilder]

Walking by the river, hand-in-hand with Andi, just felt 'right' to Paul and he mentally added it to all the little things he would miss about her. She was gently tugging at him in her eagerness to explore as he ambled along, soaking in the ambience of the rural location.

"Is that a waterfall I can hear up ahead?" she enquired.

The churning waters of the Ure tumbled down from Aisgill Summit and rushed headlong over the limestone steps in the layers of the 300 million year old Yoredale Series. The heavy winter rains washed away the lighter shale, leaving plates of harder rock to channel the water.

“The wildflowers are beautiful from January to June,” Paul told the enchanted young maiden. “Sometimes, at twilight, you might see deer and red squirrels, too.”

Another of the reasons Paul had chosen a 60 mile round trip instead of going straight back to Embsay from the Craven Heifer suddenly made itself plainly clear, as two flashes of shimmering iridescence leapt out of the virtually submerged middle pool to surmount the largest fall. Their journey, which had traversed the Atlantic, North Sea, Ouse and Ure to spawn in Upper Wensleydale, had once inspired the likes of Turner, Wordsworth and Ruskin to immortal praise.

They waited for a while, but no more fish attempted the mighty leap.

“Come on,” said Paul, “lets go down to the other Forces and see if you recognise anything.” Their walk past Middle to Lower Force and back took just over an hour and the short October day was almost over by the time they were back in the car. Leaving the top up for the evening journey home, Paul pushed the heater control to half and raised the pop-up headlights. He took the narrow tracks back to Ellers Lane fairly steadily but, once on the main north-south connection that he knew well, he made brisk progress back towards Airedale.

He had prepared a meal earlier and left it in the fridge, it could easily be rewarmed in the oven. He moved the large dish across, set the controls appropriately and, as Andi wriggled her pert bum into the settee, he opened the DVD store and pulled out the old Costner film 'Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves'. Without letting Andi see the case, he popped it into the player and sat back to see if she spotted the filming locations where they had taken their earlier promenade.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

"Is that ..." her voice tailed off as she recognised the setting on screen.

So Paul had taken her to a film set. One used many years ago but clearly the same place. If she hadn't known better Andi would have thought, how romantic. Like the way he had held her hand on the walk, the way his hand had rested on her leg, the way their fingers had entwined mimicking their sweaty limbs entangled after making hot, passionate love. If she hadn't known better.

There had to be something wrong with her, she decided, to be thinking of sex all the time. Ok, not all the time, just whenever she was with Paul or thinking of Paul. So nearly all the time. She couldn't stop herself thinking of fucking. Maybe she was ovulating. Maybe she was just horny. Maybe she just wanted Paul to fuck her brains out. It wasn't the first time that phrase had inspired her, but it sounded awesome. She was even tempted to ignore the film, straddle Paul's lap, her hands on his chest and ask directly, Paul will you please fuck my brains out till I'm an unconscious heap of very happy satisfied girl?

But no, she stayed snuggled in to him, letting the moment pass, letting the opportunity slip away. In the parlance of the film, she was destined to die an Old Maid.

The walk had been amazing. The scenery, the salmon, the drive there, the history, the water and trees and rocks, the promise of life carrying on after millenia and continuing long into a future unwritten. A future without them.

"Thank you for a wonderful day, Paul, one of the best ever. I'm going to miss being with you."

She regretted it as soon as she said it, the way it sounded like she was begging him not to dump her, like she was trying to manipulate him, make him feel guilty for telling her to find someone her own age. That wasn't what she meant, but any attempt now to correct the impression would just make it worse.

"And dinner was nice too. You're a really good cook."

Oh dear, that didn't exactly help. Andi decided silence was probably best before she blurted something that sounded desperate. That revealed how desperate she was. Revealed how much she never wanted to go.

She had a big decision to make. Was it safe to stay the night one more time, or would she disgrace herself?

it was an easy choice. As the credits rolled she asked, "can I sleep with you one last time?"

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

From her cosy spot between chest and right bicep, Andi's voice floated up. "Thank you for a wonderful day, Paul, one of the best ever. I'm going to miss being with you. Dinner was nice too. You're a really good cook."

He squeezed gently, feeling her fingers slowly twirling in the hair over his xiphisternum. While his right hand very softly brushed along the length of her thigh, his left folded over his chest and his fingertips gently followed the longest strands of her wavy hair, as they fell onto her shoulders like the waters of the Ure tumbling into the lower pools. As he began to coarsely comb with his thick fingers, Andi cuddled even closer, as if she could burrow right under Paul's skin and hide from the world.

Her question was one he expected, but not one that he could easily answer.

”Can I sleep with you one last time?"

He moved his arm slightly, to pick up the controller for the entertainment system. As he stopped the DVD, he chose the MP3 playlist titled 'Slow' and the lilting melody of the Adagio from Aram Khachaturian's ballet Spartacus filled the room.

Paul's left hand hadn't ceased its rhythmic stroking of her hair whilst he had started the music and now his right rested back onto Andi's upper thigh.

“You're really sure?” he asked. “You won't feel awkward being so close to me?” He almost added, ”when there's someone new in your life?” but couldn't form the words without his throat spasming involuntarily.

They lay quietly together, the Khachaturian movement followed by the Largo from Antonín Dvořák's ninth symphony, then Fleetwood Mac's Albatross. As that track finished, Paul stopped the player before the first note of Scheherazade sounded and gently took the hand that was still drawing intricate doodles in his fibrous chest hair.

“Come on, or you'll be sleeping down here.”

They made their way upstairs and performed their separate night-time routines before going to bed, laying spooned on their sides. Paul knew he was in for a restless night, but he hadn't an inkling of the effect that would be produced in the early hours by her arse wriggling against his cock.

He woke at around 3am with a full, turgid erection. Too big for the tiny undergarment he wore, his thick shaft protruded from the waistband and nestled against Andi as she soporifically wriggled her cute bum into him. They were still on their sides and both slightly bent at the waist, making his hardness rub along the thin fabric of her pants as she moved. Paul groaned involuntarily, his instinct was to push her shoulders further forward, pull the flimsy gusset of her inadequate covering to one side and to ram his tumescent flesh between her wet folds and deep inside her with a single thrust from behind.

Reluctantly, he gathered all his willpower and rolled away towards the toilet. Paul knew that if he stayed she would hate him for what he did. He waited for his hardness to decline sufficiently for him to use the wetroom and then reluctantly made his way into the adjacent bedroom, where he slept fitfully until dawn.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

She wasn't sure what woke her. But she was alone. Paul would be coming back soon and she could again snuggle in as close as she possibly could to her personal Furnace Bear. Except he wasn't hers.

She sat up and waited.

And waited.

He didn't come back to bed.

He wasn't coming back to bed. That sick feeling deep inside that she'd been dreading and putting off began to assert it's unwelcome presence.

Paul had left her.

One sob, that was all, before her self-control maintained her breathing. She didn't cry out, didn't wrench her face, just allowed the tears to make their epic journey from source to estuary unobstructed. They flowed around the island of her nose, over and past her lips and ran down the front of her throat, though some formed their own waterfall and dripped off her chin to her t-shirt.

Her heart was broken. She'd tried before to glue it back together, but now it was shattered. She was empty inside. And her head hurt. Drawing her knees up to her chest she hugged her legs and rocked backwards and forwards until there was no more water left inside her.

Paul had dumped her.

Andrea tried to hate him, but it was impossible. He had let her down gently, like the gentle man he really was, the Gentleman. How could she hate him when she loved him so very dearly? And it wasn't even his fault. She just wasn't the woman for him. She wasn't woman enough. She was a girl. Not sophisticated, inexperienced, no sense of style, ignorant of the World.

It was obvious that he needed someone else. He deserved better, and she'd been fooling herself. And somewhere he did have someone else. That woman she'd heard the guys talking about at the Theatre. The attractive one. He never promised to love her. Only to be a friend.

Which reminded her. Should she talk to Mike about that? He was Paul's friend, so he must know how that worked. She hadn't a clue. But then, maybe a clean break was really best?

Fortunately no one knew that she loved Paul or was even interested in him. OK, Polly suspected, but she hadn't said anything in ages so she must have decided she was wrong. And Mike would never guess. No, her secret was safe.

So, she could either run away, which was a very attractive but lonely option. Or she could stay with The players and pine from a distance shrivelling more with each passing day. Or she could be his friend and endure the stab of misery every time she was with him without being with him.

Hm. Lonely, shrivelled or miserable? What lovely choices. Andrea realised that she'd stopped crying some time ago and wiped her face. It was still too early to get up but she did anyway, gathering whatever she could find of hers in the bedroom and then using the alternative bathroom to wash her face.

Not knowing where Paul was, she crept downstairs suspecting he was either in the spare room or on the sofa, but didn't find him in the sitting room. Climbing into her jeans and putting her bra back on she made herself a cup of tea, trying not to make too much noise as she waited for the pale blue glimmer to turn the black sky to daylight. Sitting at the kitchen table she cradled the hot mug between her palms.

Oh no! Tonight was First Night! It suddenly struck her that it was an Important Day. Thank goodness for makeup. She was going to need a lot of it, cement consistency layed on with a trowel. And no-one must know at the Company that she'd been crying. Neither must Paul. No, she had to be cheery, light hearted, not worried, not bothered by anything. She stiched the nearest approximation to a smile that she could manage across her features.

She was NOT going to cry.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Paul woke to another dreary November morning. The weather matched his mood. He thought back over the past few days, struggling to make sense of the way that Andi had become closer to him whilst simultaneously more distant. He knew that he'd made the correct decision in the middle of the night, staying would have been fraught with difficulty. He wanted her; oh, how he ached for her; to be alongside her, beside her, inside her.

Pointless he thought. Letting himself dwell on those desires was simply going to increase his frustrated disappointment.

He sighed and got out of the smaller bed. When he went next door to the wetroom he noticed that she wasn't there. Momentarily he chilled. Had she gone? Then his fear subsided, how would she get back to Skipton – walk?

He showered and pulled on his worn dressing gown. Making his way downstairs, he found her in the kitchen. He noticed her forced smile and immediately launched into an apology for his lewd conduct.

“Andi, I'm sorry for my inappropriate behaviour in bed last night. I want you to know that I'd never force myself on you like that. That's why I couldn't stay.”

Paul saw the confused look on her face and the way she shrank inwards, wrapping her arms around herself in that defensive mannerism he hadn't seen since her faux pas with the tunica intima almost a month before.

His heart sank, knowing that he was going to have to tell her about his inappropriate erection. He was unsure how to raise the subject delicately and his next sentence was probably a little too abrupt.

“You wiggled your arse on my cock so much last night that you gave me a raging hardon, if I hadn't gone next door to keep you safe I'd have been ramming it up inside you and that isn't something I should be doing.”

Embarrassed, Paul turned and went back upstairs. He brushed his teeth completely oblivious to the plain fact that he hadn't even had any breakfast yet. Sitting on the bed, he cursed himself for his crassness. She was probably crying again, needing his shoulder or chest, but he just couldn't go back downstairs and face her. He dressed without any care for his appearance.

There were things he needed to gather together for the evening. His costume and major props were at the theatre, but some additional small items that he kept at home would give his character a final Mediterranean touch. His slow retrieval of the adornments helped him pass about another ten minutes postponing the inevitable, then he reluctantly trod downstairs and wasted a couple more before finally taking a deep breath and walking back into the kitchen.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andrea was hugging herself tightly when Paul came back in, and it was pretty obvious that it was over. Yeah Yeah it had never begun blah blah she'd said it to herself so many times even she was bored of hearing it.

"Woukd you take me home, please? I think I better go."

The journey to Skipton was quiet, no conversation beyond the necessary, and Andrea just stared out the side window all the way. No comforting large hand on her leg. No witty banter and affectionate teasing. It was a time of grieving, of letting go.

Yet she couldn't make herself let go. She wanted to be able to get back to normal life and just carry on without Paul. But she knew, if she was honest with herself, she didn't want that really. Maybe she should actually talk to Mike. Maybe it would be possible. Maybe. Wouldn't it?

Climbing out the car she said a polite but brief thank you and goodbye and see you at the Theatre and then hurried inside and up the stairs to her bedsit.

She threw herself into Paul's beanbag and let herself cry for a bit. She didn't want him to take the bag back. And she had stuff at his, mostly her underwear. Well, his other woman would just have to cope with that. The thought actually made her smile, and she imagined Paul keeping it in the drawers of her bedroom, keeping her photograph.

Just because he wanted her to find someone else didn't mean he'd forget her, did it? She didn't want Paul to forget her. She ached at the thought of him forgetting her.

The rest of her day went by somehow, and she allowed herself only brief moments of self pity. Then it was time to get to the Theatre.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Mike came in after lunch. One look at his old friend was enough to tell him that Paul was in a bad place. He pulled up the narrow wooden chair and sat without a word. Papers were scattered across the desk and this morning's post was still unopened. The big, strong man was in pieces. Mike even thought he caught a glimpse of misty rheum in the sad, unfocused eyes.

Long minutes passed before Paul spoke.

One word.

"Gone."

The heavy silence settled again.

Mike waited, patiently. He wouldn't probe or press. Paul had to let this out in his own way. It would be difficult, this was something that had hit him hard and Mike reckoned that he knew what, or rather who, was behind it.

Two words.

"She's gone."

Suspicions confirmed. Not only that something had gone badly, drastically, wrong; but that it had been Andrea who had lifted Paul to the top of the world for the past months, only to now smash him onto the jagged rocks below. The one thing in the world that can make the strongest man crumble. A woman.

Paul spoke again. "I made some bad decisions last night. Misunderstandings."

Still Mike waited, watching Paul's eyes. Slowly they fixed on him as the inner turmoil settled just enough for his distraught friend to spill the blood from his broken heart.

"I knew she had made her decision. Some boy at the college, I think. I was crazy to hope that a final weekend together would change anything. Trying too hard was never a good idea. My stupid notion that she ever had any feelings towards me other than as some jovial uncle. Thirty years, for fuck's sake. Thirty fucking years. I hadn't a fucking hope in hell. She was always going to look for a kid her own age. I'm surprised she looked twice at me. Deluded, fucking deluded. Well now he's won, whereas I've totally blown it and lost her friendship too. Hell, I don't even know if she'll turn up tonight."

Paul finally stopped for a breath.

"I'm so fucked up I can't even remember who was understudying her," he continued. "Shit, what a balls up. How could I be so stupid, so fucking crazy. I'm old, I'm getting overweight, I'm boring. What the fuck am I going to do to interest a lively young woman like her?"

Mike let the self-loathing pour out for a short while longer before challenging his friend.

"OK, you screwed up the bit about making her fall in love with you, you big arse. Now she's pissed off to Junior. OK. What makes you think she'll blow us all out of the water on opening night? If you really feel as much for her as this maudlin display suggests, you ought to have more respect for her integrity and commitment."

Paul looked up shocked at his friend's words. Mike was right, he should trust Andrea.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andrea arrived at the Theatre early, as usual. But that was all that was usual, apart from it already being unlocked.

She avoided going into the office, instead pottering around the kitchen in an agitated state and refreshing the beverages in the Green Room, Fresh tea bags, still cellophane wrapped and upside down next to the already full box. Sugar filled to overflowing. A dropped cup, its handle now broken in the kitchen bin. Signs of clumsiness everywhere. But it wasn't First Night nerves.

It was Last Night nerves. Her last ever with Paul.

Andrea couldn't see the destruction she was causing because you can't see clearly when your eyes are brimming with tears. Paul had dumped her. Then he'd told her that despite feeling frisky in the night, he'd abandoned her and gone to sleep in the other room. Abandoned. Rejected. The words ran riot though her mind, blurring her vision and scattering coherent thoughts.

Soon other Players started turning up and Andrea finished her chores as badly as she'd started before going to get changed into her costume. She was angry. She didn't know quite why. Oh, there were a thousand possible reasons, all of them plausable, but she didn't know which was the culprit. Maybe all of them. She tried to ignore everyone, ignore the strange looks she was getting. She felt like an object of scorn, of pity. But they couldn't know. No one knew about her and Paul. There had been nothing there in the first place, so nothing to finish. It didn't make sense. It didn't need to. She tugged her Tunica firmly up over her jeans. A bit too firmly. Shit! And she was departing from her normal routine. That was supposed to be bad luck, wasn't it? But hey, it couldn't get worse than it already was. She finished undressing from under her costume and didn't bother with the 'reveal' practice she'd become accostomed to. Instead, she sought out Mike.

There wasn't much time before Curtain Call, but she trapped him in a corner and tried to quiz him, like she'd rehearsed so many times in her head. Thankfully the tears didn't spill out of her eyes, the lower lids damming them effectively.

"Um, Mike? You're his friend, you know him? Er, I don't know how to do that? How do I do Friendship? I mean, it's not that I'm not his friend, except, well, I'm not; but I'm not, you know, either, and he dumped me, I mean he told me to find someone my own age, he rejected me, but I don't have anyone else, I don't want anyone else, I just want him but he doesn't want me ... and .... but ... oh!"

The dam was failing. Tears were beginning to spill and it was all too much. Andrea ran away from Mike and busied herself on the women's side of the divide at the makeup, slathering it on, painting herself into a different person. She took comfort in making her eyes bold, now that she'd dried them, and covering the lack of sleep and pale skin. She must have looked like a wraith when she talked to Mike. And it had all gone wrong. She didn't say it like she wanted to, and she never gave him a chance to reply.

Suddenly it was time to go on Stage for Act 1. Their first performance. She so wasn't ready.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

About to ask Andi to confirm what he thought she'd just told him, Mike stood open-mouthed as she hurried away.

"I don't have anyone else, I don't want anyone else." stood out in Mike's mind. He looked around, but Paul was nowhere to be seen. He must still be in the office. He didn't usually cut things this fine.

The outer door opened and Paul strode in from the foyer, fully costumed and already making the call for the opening Players. The girls of the chorus were half way up the stairs when Mike grabbed Paul's arm.

"Paul, you have to speak to Andi, it's vital."

"Why? She's made it perfectly clear that she has very little to say to me."

"You need to ask her about the college boyfriend. No more beating about the bush, ask her directly."

"OK, straight after the final curtain, but I don't know what you're making such a fuss about."

"I'm not sure if she said what I think she did, but we might have got everything arse over tit about her even having a boyfriend."

Paul's heart leapt. No, Mike had misunderstood something. Hell's bollocks, why now? There was an audience waiting and no way he could ask her for the next ninety minutes.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andrea threw herself into her role, letting the Play fill her mind, her imagination and her emotions. She wasn't so much acting as being her assigned character, letting all her pent up anxiety and frustration and sense of injustice find their expression in her portrayal of the slave girl who wouldn't be conquered.

From her perspective the night seemed to be going well. It felt totally different to perform all the rehearsed actions in front of an actual live audience. The sound was different, the echoes, the temperature, the atmosphere, even her fellow Players were different. Everyone was energised, like they'd been plugged into an extra high voltage, and Andrea knew they all felt it. They had passed from practice to Performance and everything was lifted.

She felt herself bouyed by the energy, but also awakened by the audience. By the mere presence of all those real people who had come to see them, payed to come and see them, to see their play. And she coukd feel an anticipation growing inside her, too, knowing that within an hour or two she was going to have her own moment. It excited her, inspired her, invigorated her, and frightened her.

She was soon to be centre stage, near the front, only temporarily hidden from view by the Captain of the Guard, though actually only hidden from people in the seats right in the middle. Plenty of others would see her from the the sides as she strode forward to make her unspoken declaration of defiance. It thrilled her to know that they'd see, that her own personal performance was to be witnessed by so many people. Apparently it was a good crowd, including local newspapers. This was a special moment, a special night. Never again would she have her first ever public performance on stage, and in a significant part, too.

That was the general feel of it, but as Act 11 approached she became increasingly conscious of her imminent exposure, her unveiling in front of strangers, a very public unveiling. It was exciting, scary, awe inspiring, scary, invigorating and scary.

Soon the moment was at hand. They were just waiting for the lights to come up on Act 11, all of them in their places. Andrea was sure her heart really was literally in her mouth.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Shit! thought Paul as he nearly missed a cue. His mind just wasn't on the play and Mike had, in one scene, surreptitiously kicked his heel to make him move when he stood in the wrong place. Thankfully some part of his hindbrain was sufficiently engaged to be taking him along on autopilot. None of his mistakes had yet ruined the play.

He was offstage for the next scene. Stood in the wings, he recapped the conflicting possibilities. Could he have misunderstood what she said last week? Was Mike mistaken tonight? If he wasn't, it was no wonder she still wanted the same nocturnal proximity which, he realised, would indeed be odd if she did have a new boyfriend....

Thoughts whirling, Paul almost missed that it was nearly the moment when she would briefly stand right in front of him. It was his only chance to ask her to come to the office after the performance.

He rehearsed in his head what to say. He'd barely have two seconds, maybe long enough for five or six words. They would have to be clear and concise.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

This was her moment. She watched Paul move from Stage Left to the Centre down near the front, and as had become her practice since that first attempt in rehearsal, she slipped the thoroughly worn in tunica off her shoulders uncovering herself completely. Completely! Oh Shit! It had slipped straight to the floor. All that tugging and pulling must have weakened the stitching, especially her rough treatment of the costume that evening. The girls around her gasped.

Paul would be turning any moment and she HAD to be there. She couldn't let everyone down. Raising her chin in defiance, she stepped forward out of the Chorus, out of the costume.

As she moved, Andrea sensed the Villagers slightly behind her right shoulder over on the other side of the stage, but kept going, getting closer and closer to the audience but completely naked. Nude. Tits, pussy, everything on show. Shit!

She carried on past the five Guards until she was level with Mike, blanking out the shocked looks, and as before stopped just behind Paul's semi-screening figure.

She could do this! All her bottled up confusion and anger flamed out of her eyes. Hands on hips, left foot forward, shoulders back, chest out, chin up, hot eyes flashing defiance, she glared once more at the back of Paul's head right there in front of her.

Now that she was so near the front she could hear murmurings and gasps from the audience and she fed on them, her inner fire forcing itself out like a volcano.

She waited for Paul to turn.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Now! As Paul spun round to face Andi, he first saw Mike stood with his mouth open, then the guards gazing across the stage lustfully and thirdly the villagers in apparent shock. Completing the turn, he looked deep into her eyes before preparing to noticeably let his view drop to her bare breasts and then take the step away.

Everything seemed normal as he looked into her defiant gaze. Once more, he thought what a wonderfully natural talent she was. He dropped his sight to her superb rack and then noticed that the rumpled tunica intima wasn't in its usual place draped over the flare of her hips.

She wasn't wearing the tunica intima at all.

She was stark naked.

As strikingly beautiful as he remembered.

His earlier mental rehearsal had prepared him with the surreptitious words he wanted to deliver and he meant to whisper quietly, I need a word with you afterwards. but all that came out of his mouth was....

"I need you."

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Paul wasn't supposed to say anything. The script definitely said nothing about dialogue only stage directions. It was what they'd rehearsed. And his words made no sense though they echoed through her mind, "I need you .. I need you .. I need you .." And he hadn't even smiled at seeing her in the nude.

Sticking to what she knew, Andi stayed motionless as Paul, the Captain of the Guard moved over to Mike and she was not just revealed, but lit up centre stage full frontal naked. She sensed a restlessness in the audience, but it didnt feel like it was bad. Andi couldn't tell if Lee kept the lights on longer than normal or if it just felt like it, but hours after being exposed they finally went into blackout and she stumbled blindly back to the Chorus and the sympathetic welcoming arms of her sister Players.

They were supposed to be silent while the changes were made for Act 12, but Andi received a lot of comforting hugs and squeezes and help repairing her awful wardrobe malfunction.

Somehow they got through the play, and took a curtain call in which Andi was mercifully hidden among the rest of the Chorus in the second row.

As soon as they were off the stage she hurried to her sanctuary with the briefest excursion to collect her clothes. No one spoke to her, thankfully, and once in the safety of the kitchen she quickly dressed under the damaged costume which she hung for Dot behind the door.

Andi could hear the buzz of excited voices from the Green Room and guessed people didn't think the Play ruined by her mistake. She found herself peeping out, trying to gauge the reaction if any. Maybe most of the Players didn't know? Just Mike? And the Guards, of course. And the Villagers. And obviously the Chorus. And Lee in the lighting box. Ok, so everyone would know.

Finally she confronted what she'd been avoiding. Paul would know. Would he be furious? Maybe he wouldn't care anymore? She hoped he cared. Her musing was interrupted by the door opening. She wasn't to be left alone after all.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

The rest of the play was just as much of a blur, but Paul somehow stumbled through it. The two snapshots alternated in his mind: Andi stood defiantly naked in the bright stage lighting for five seconds, every curve and line of her beauty thrown into sharp relief by the merciless glare. His own witless mumbling of the truth that had been driving his deepest hidden thoughts and impulsive actions for months.

I need you.

It was true. Whenever they parted, the time he spent alone, nights without her; they all felt like a segment of him had been wrenched away with no consideration of his health or sanity. Sometimes it was his gut; sometimes his stomach, his mind, his breath but, most of all, his heart.

Andi had stolen his heart.

The alternating light and dark wasn't only on the stage as act followed act, it was in his soul as they danced their intricate dance of unrequited love whilst simultaneously riding all of Blackpool's roller coasters.

The curtain fell. Paul still hadn't planned in his mind how he would broach the possible misunderstanding between them. He robotically dipped his body for the two calls required, the villagers and chorus filing off after the first. Then he stood, alone.

Not alone: he sensed Mike waiting at the top of the narrow wooden stairs.

"What did she say to you?" he asked, his normal impulse to determine why she had gone beyond the staging of the play sublimated by the possibility of keeping his dream alive.

"Well, it was fairly rushed and incoherent but she thinks you've told her to find a college boy, dumped her effectively, whereas we thought she'd already found one. The words that stand out most are: 'I don't have anyone else, I don't want anyone else.' "

Paul spoke one word. "Fuck."

Andi was nowhere to be seen when they entered the Green Room.

"Go and look in the khazi, will you?" he asked Mike.

Hesitantly, he crossed the room and eased the kitchen door open.

She was at the far end, standing in her usual attire by the coffee urn with a mug by her elbow. There was no sign of her costume and he briefly wondered if she had ripped it in anger, in order to pluck up the courage to perform in public. He pushed the thought away. That matter could wait. He needed to know about them. If there was a 'them'.

"Andi, I thought you were leaving me for a boy at college. I never want you to leave." He hesitated for a moment and then said what he'd known was true for weeks.

"Andrea, I love you."

 

[AndreaSubbie]

She burst into tears and covered her face.

How could he? She turned her back to hide her shame, her humiliation. He couldn't love her. He didn't know, didn't understand.

"No Paul, you can't!" she managed to get out in a stangled cry, "You don't know what I'm like, what I am!"

The sobs quieted a bit, but not the sorrow. Just when everything should be perfect, just when some miracle had made the world right and restored its spin to the proper axis, or whatever planets did, she had thrown it all away.

"You don't understand, dearest, Paul. You can't love me. You'll hate me. I know you told me to find a boyfriend my own age but I didn't, couldn't, didn't want to, didn't try. I only wanted you. I've been in love with you for like forever but you never wanted me, always told me to stay a friend, nothing more.

"And I know no-one else here knows about us, though I think Polly used to suspect something, but I've broken what we had. I've been selfish and childish and just wanted to be happy never thinking properly that you deserve someone you can respect, a sophisticated woman you can be proud of, not a silly girl you'll be ashamed of.

"I know you have another woman, I heard the guys talking about her. I know she's beautiful. I think they even made bets on when you'd get together with her. She's everything I'm not. She's respectable. Unlike me.

"I'm a horrible person, Paul." Andrea tried to summon the courage to tell him the worst. She had to. He deserved her honesty.

"It's that .. um .. oh dear .. I'm so ashamed .. tonight .. it was a mistake .. the costume just failed, it fell apart, I didn't mean to .. but it happened ... was an accident but .." and this was her big confession, this was where she lost Paul's love forever, but if she really loved him she'd break her own heart for him ..

"But Paul .. I loved it. I liked standing naked on stage. I liked being like that in the spotlight. I liked the gasps and stares of the other Players and the audience. That's the horrible girl you think you loved. She's undeserving of you. I'm sorry."

And the sobs began again, small movements, small breaths, light tears, but deep grief.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

At his long delayed admission, Andi burst into tears and turned to face the back wall.

Her sobs and the hands over her face muffled many of her words, only the most forcefully delivered escaping intact to burst against Paul's eardrums.

"No Paul, you can't! You don't know what I'm like, what I am! ..mumble mumble.. dearest Paul ..mumble.. can't love ..mumble.. hate me ..mumble mumble mumble.. didn't, couldn't, didn't want to, didn't try I only ..mumble.. you ..mumble.. love with you ..mumble.. forever ..mumble.. never wanted me ..mumble mumble mumble.."

He sank to one knee behind her and pulled her across, so that she bent behind the knees and sat on his thick thigh. She still held her hands to her face, as if by hiding the world from her gaze it would somehow disappear. With one arm supporting her, Paul twisted her upper torso with the other and she instinctively buried her head back into his chest as she had done so many times before. That made the next sentence even more indecipherable, until she turned her head to lay with one cheek on him.

".........Polly used to suspect something, but I've broken what we had. I've been selfish and childish and just wanted to be happy never thinking properly that you deserve someone you can respect, a sophisticated woman you can be proud of, not a silly girl you'll be ashamed of. I know you have another woman, I heard the guys talking about her. I know she's beautiful. I think they even made bets on when you'd get together with her. She's everything I'm not. She's respectable. Unlike me. I'm a horrible person, Paul."

Her stream of words tumbled faster than the rushing Ure went over the falls. He could barely break into them to say, "I'm single, there's no 'other woman', tell me what you heard." She didn't stop, perhaps hadn't even heard him.

"It's that .. um .. oh dear .. I'm so ashamed .. tonight .. it was a mistake .. the costume just failed, it fell apart, I didn't mean to .. but it happened ... was an accident but .. but Paul .. I loved it. I liked standing naked on stage. I liked being like that in the spotlight. I liked the gasps and stares of the other Players and the audience. That's the horrible girl you think you loved. She's undeserving of you. I'm sorry."

She began to sob again and twisted her face back into the folds of his costume.

Paul's hand came up to her hair and he gently ran his splayed fingers through it as he tried to calm her emotions at the same time as he absorbed the implications of her words.

"Andi, dear sweet Andi, I'm not annoyed with you, I don't hate you, no other woman, just you Andi, just you. Whatever you felt, however ashamed you think you are, bad you think you are, we'll work it out, work it out together."

His words became less of a coherent reassurance and blurred into a jumble of supportive sounding syllables, with frequent repetitions of her name.

"Good loving Andi tidy sweet Andi kind Andi darling helpful Andi love." Even that trailed off and as Paul hugged Andrea even tighter he simply repeated, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you....."

He was still holding her moulded to his body, brushing her hair with his hand and saying, "I love you" when Mike walked in two minutes later.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andi either heard or sensed the arrival of someone else in the room, and raised her tear stained face in their direction, her arms tight round Paul's neck, her chest pressed hard into his.

She drew strength from him, his heat warming her skin, her body, her heart. Somehow she knew everything was ok, everything would be ok. She hadn't heard or understood all that he'd said, but despite her confession Paul actually wanted her.

As her vision cleared and the blurs resolved into the figure of Mike, she managed a distorted version of what might have been called a smile of innocent delight, of dreams fulfilled, of a shattered heart mended.

She didn't know what to say to Paul's friend, but somehow she understood that he'd done it.

"Thank you," she muttered, and grasping that perhaps she owed him better than that, cleared her throat and repeated herself more distinctly.

"Thank you, Mike. I think it's gonna be ok. Are we ok now, Paul Bear?" the last words addressed nose to nose with her love.

Despite Mike's presence, possibly because there was a witness, she kissed Paul's lips, passionate yet chaste, committed yet discreet. A statement. A declaration. In front of a witness. It was official.

Andi didn't care who knew now. Everyone was bound to be shocked and surprised and caught off guard, but she wanted the world to know she loved Paul.

Breaking the kiss before it could become worthy of censorship, she again looked at Mike and grinned. She knew her face was a mess and she was hardly the greatest catch a man like Paul deserved, but she was happy. Possibly the happiest she had ever been.

Then turning again to look deep into Paul's beautiful eyes she whispered huskily, "take me to bed, Bear, and ram your cock up inside me till I can't walk straight!"

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Andi lifted her head and looked at Mike, “Thank you, Mike. I think it's gonna be OK.”

She turned back to Paul, her face inches from his. ”Are we OK now, Paul Bear?” she asked and then kissed him, hard. She kept her mouth closed, but held the contact for a good twenty seconds.

Paul reacted instinctively, softening and shifting his grip slightly to hold her as a lover. As she broke, he looked at her tear-stained face and dishevelled hair and, not for the first time, thought how natural her beauty was. Her waif-like frailty only made her even more attractive to him.

As she looked again into his eyes, her breathy comment surprised him with its direct earthiness. ”Take me to bed, Bear, and ram your cock up inside me till I can't walk straight.”

The embracing lovers were reminded that they had company by Mike's belly laugh.

”I think that's the biggest hint you're ever going to get in your life, Paul. Get that bloody costume off and get out of here.”

Reluctantly, the pair separated and, even before Mike had gone back into the Green Room to look for Polly, Paul's costume was on the floor. He was stood naked and half erect in front of her when the kitchen door opened a few inches and his briefs, shirt and pants came flying into the room.

“Cheers, Mike.” he yelled.

He looked back to see Andi gazing directly at his hardening shaft.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

"Hello, Big Bear," Andi croaked in that same husky voice, "do you have any idea how long I've been wanting to meet you?"

She wasn't looking at Paul's face, but talking directly to the object of her lust.

"You are even more beautiful than I imagined," and she watched in amazement as Paul's erection grew, and kept on growing, "and you're huge! I hope you fit inside me, Big Bear, because I intend to wear you out. You're my first, did you know? Or will be, as soon as Lover Bear takes us to bed, but I can't wait that long."

Andi moved to the sink and soaped a fresh cloth, then stepped daintily forward and sank gracefully to her knees, the enormous hard organ pulsing with life in front of her face. With gentle but firm loving hands she throroughly washed the day off his cock and balls, before rinsing the cloth in warm clean water and doing it again.

Andi inspected her handiwork and satisfied, threw the cloth into the sink and ran her warm fingers over his swollen flesh. It was hard, soft, rigid, slightly flexible, manly and very alive. The heat in her hand felt so good she never wanted to let go.

She had no experience, but how much did you need? She planted a kiss on the end, and flicked it with her tongue. Even washed clean he had a distinct taste, a definite scent. It was intoxicating. She could feel her insides trembling and a stirring deep in her core that craved to filled with this organ. It was her central purpose in life, to wrap the very centre of her being around this flesh. It belonged inside her body. And she could feel herself getting ready to receive him, heating and moistening already to ease his passage in.

Holding him just behind the head with her left hand, she kissed the bag holding his balls, little fluttery kisses, and worked her way from the base of his shaft to the tip along his organ's left side, then down it's right to the base and under his balls. He was so yummy! A delicious toy for a girl to play with.

Andi looked up into Paul's eyes, her face shining with happiness and joy, and keeping eye contact slipped her soft lips over the end of his penis, her hand sliding to its base. She breathed out through her nose, liking the feel of how he rested on her relaxed tongue, and pushed forward until her mouth was filled and he was near the back of her throat. She knew enough to keep her teeth out of the way, and moved forward and back a few times to get the feel of this, establish a rhythm. Then she began to push deeper, forcing the spongy tip into her throat, swallowing it, taking it deeper.

It felt deliciously bad. She was a dirty girl, it seemed. Andi shrugged in apology still keeping that eye contact. Paul might as well know just how much he had to forgive, and placing both her hands firmly behind his bum she forced his invading organ in and out over and over, her nose pressing into his belly with each stroke.

She heard the door creak but there was no stopping her now, she had found her favourite hobby and no-one was going to interrupt it.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Her fascination with the way his penis changed from flaccid to erect, and the way she spoke to it as a living individual, turned him on more than he expected. The feedback was intense, almost a race between his dick and her eyes to see which could expand quicker. The ever present rational voice in his head thought that she might be over-egging a little. Slightly over average, yes - but huge? Well maybe to her tiny frame he was. Then Andi said something that chilled him and almost made his aching cock shrink back towards his balls.

”You're my first.”

Paul's mind span whilst she washed him carefully.

First? Did she mean virgin first? That she had never taken even a tiny teen knob? The knowledge almost terrified him. No, he wasn't enormous but he knew he was larger than most, thicker. He would have to hurt her before he could bring her the pleasure she craved. He couldn't hurt her, he had promised himself that he would keep her safe from harm.

The emotions conflicted within him. His burning desire to fill her body with his manhood, to hear her squeal and to watch those expressive eyes burst as she felt the power of her first shattering orgasm. His sense of responsibility imbuing him with the knowledge that his actions could irrevocably dampen her enthusiastic attitude to lovemaking, if he was too forceful or too focussed on his own needs instead of hers.

The physical sensations she was triggering in his nervous system interrupted his mental conflict as she licked him from base to tip and back to his tightening scrotum. Once she began to slide him inside her small mouth the hormonal rush dominated everything.

He watched as Andi took his pulsating shaft between her lips, moving further down with every bob of her head. She would settle in a moment, when his head sat like a golf ball against her uvula. Her eyes flickered for an instant and then she moved her face closer to his body.

Paul recalled the only time that Elaine had ever taken him so deep in her mouth. She had laid on her back across the bed and hung her head off the edge, offering him a straight passage into her throat, but she still struggled to take all his length and thickness with her thirty years of sexual experience. Here was young and inexperienced Andrea, with her hands on his arse and her nose buried in the soft fur that covered his abdomen, showing no discomfort whatsoever.

He felt the rising pressure and the sense of inner tension. Not having released his passion for over a week, and with the frustrated erection of the previous night only adding to his stored sperm, he knew that Andi was in for an absolute geyser once he spurted. He hoped she would instinctively swallow his fluid quickly enough to keep from choking.

His peripheral vision saw the kitchen door swing open.

”Mike said you two had finally worked out your misunderstandings,” Polly stated, apparently quite nonplussed at the sight of Andi forcing his mighty shaft deep inside her small mouth.

”I just popped in to let you know everyone else has gone. We'll be off too, then.” Her movement failed to follow her stated intent as she stood watching the large man towering over the small woman, but utterly in her power. She imagined the sight of Paul's large, tumescent organ wedged firmly inside Andi's tight vagina and saw a picture of him tearing her insides apart.

Shaking her head to clear the disturbing vision, she backed out and closed the door.

Andi hadn't missed a beat and Paul felt the final growth in his turgid manhood and the spasming which heralded his release. He fought the urge to clamp his hands behind her head and to drive himself right down into her belly. He knew she would be unable to breathe, swallow or gasp if he did, so he pulled back an inch or two and let his semen rush up inside his prick to explode into her mouth.

….four, five.... He noticed her cheeks bulging and she seemed to be struggling to swallow each surge of fluid. The sixth pulse was smaller, but finally enough to overwhelm her. His phallus was still firm in her mouth, but the seal wasn't perfect anymore and he smiled as the last of his ejaculation oozed from her lips and dribbled down her chin.

She slowly eased back along his deflating rod, trying to clean every wriggling tadpole from its surface with her agile tongue and soft lips.

When his bulbous head popped out of her grasp, he bent to lift her until her feet dangled above the floor. He kissed her passionately, tasting his own spiced saltiness in her mouth. Gently placing her back on the floor, he said his first words since Mike had thrown his clothes into the room.

“You're incredible.”

He kissed her briefly once again and then stepped to the side to retrieve his underwear. Dressing quickly, almost falling because he was looking at Andi instead of his trousers, he took her hand and led her out into the deserted Green Room.

The necessary functions to secure the building were over in moments and they almost ran round the corner to her flat. Inside, as the door closed behind them, she pulled her top over her head and pouted coquettishly over her shoulder as she led him up the stairs.

He was barely inside the room when Andi jumped up into his embrace. How the fuck had her jeans disappeared? She had shucked them in what seemed like a single second, but there they were, crumpled on the floor. She wrapped her arms round his neck and her legs around his waist, trying as she often did to be absorbed inside him - to become a single entity.

Paul had his own technique for attaining that end and he walked, unbalanced, towards the bed. He managed to keep control enough to lay her back, rather than dropping her, and he hooked a finger of each hand into the waistband of her knickers, easing them over her svelte hips and down her shapely legs, whipping them off with a final flourish and dropping them onto the discarded jeans.

He quickly released his own trousers and unbuttoned his shirt, forcing them off his body. Finally he shimmied his briefs down to his ankles and flicked them away.

Placing one hand behind a shoulder, he gently rolled her enough to reach her bra clasp and snapped his fingers in the old, practised movement that he had learned as a teenager so long ago.

Laying her back, he moved forward and bent over her to kiss her lips. Holding that for a moment, he then changed his attention to her neck. Small, delicate, barely sensed: his kisses trailed from neck to shoulder, to breast.

While his mouth paid attention to one, his hand found the other and his thumb began fluttering gentle tiny circles around her nipple and areola. His tongue flickered against her hardening nipple and his other hand slid across her flat stomach and entered the patch of fur below.

A quick stretch further confirmed his expectations, the heat he felt contrasted sharply with the dampness of the fluid on his fingertip.

Returning his attention to her breasts, he contorted to keep his thumb circling while his lips moved to the firm curve under her bosom. Sprinkling kisses there, he slid further down. His anticipation began to revive his flaccid 3” stump. It again performed its magic transformation from todger to titan.

He reached the spot he had desired ever since he first saw her in one of her too-short Ts. He lingered: kissing, licking, sucking and carefully nibbling her taut tummy. Only the growing cramp in the wrist and thumb of his ever circling hand stayed his continued enjoyment of that abdominal paradise. He lifted himself back to kiss her lips and his re-energised cock rested against her hand.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

As soon as she felt the hot flesh on her fingers she wrapped them round his again-growing organ, once more amazed at how the thing changed from pretty sausage to steel rod. He felt so good in her hand, maybe as good as his kisses and fingers on her hungry body.

She moved the soft skin up and down his inner girder feeling it stiffen and swell, surely the greatest compliment she could receive. Was there any praise more sincere than a man's erection?

Her masturbation of him was steady, confident now that she had sucked on that very organ and knew she could please him. She wanted Paul to desire her attentions, to crave having her suck, fuck or wank his wonderful Big Bear who had become her new friend, her toy, her delight. She hoped Paul wouldn't feel that he was secondary in her affections after his gorgeous cock, but right now she couldn't get enough of it.

As he delighted her body and made her skin tingle with pleasure and nipples ache with desire, she pictured herself drinking more of his semen every night before bed, every morning with breakfast, in his office before every Theatre night, and before he locked up. She had found her elixir, and intended to sample the well as often as she could.

That first taste of his sperm jetting into her mouth had been transforming, like a baptism into a new world and a new life. It was a strange taste, distinctive, with an unexpected texture and heady aroma. She was already addicted. The geyser that was his erection had just kept on erupting, faster than she could swallow, but she would happily have taken more, letting the overflow dribble down her chin and decorate her clothes. Andi knew she would be proud to wear Paul's cum, marked as his, not caring who saw her spattered with his life juice.

The rush back to her flat had been a blur, and she couldn't get her clothes off quickly enough. Paul had to finish undressing her, which he did so sexily she wanted to wear even more clothing next time just for the pleasure of having him strip her naked. His hands on her body, peeling off her underwear, snapping her bra hooks open; he was a great lover. And that was before doing anything to her.

He was patient, gentle, firm, demanding, masterful, teasing, pleasing. Everything she thought a lover should be. Surely no boy her own age could satisfy her like this? She had wanted Paul, and now she knew why. She wanted to tell everyone at the Players that he was an amazing lover, a sex-god. But she also didn't want to embarass him and would have to exercise at least a little self-control.

But not now. Now she could let herself go, enjoy his virtuosity, and she found her voice. Little mewls and cries at first, growing into gasps and moans and grunts, uninhibited, unashamed, crying into his kisses as she kissed back with all the frustrated passion of time lost.

"Oh Paul, PAUL!" she cried, knowing she was ready, was soaked, was gasping.

Her voice was loud, demanding, begging, not caring who might hear.

"Fuck me, Paul, please fuck me .. I need you inside me .. there's no barrier .. ram that enormous cock up me, I can take it .. I need it .. I NEED YOU TO FUCK ME .. PLEASE!"

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

His tongue circled hers as it had earlier circled her nipple and he rested on his elbows and knees to stop his weight bearing uncomfortably on her body. Paul felt her grip him and he grew yet harder as she slowly pumped her small hand along his length. There was no hurry to her movements, even when he made small diversions to kiss her neck, her ears, her nose and her scapulæ.

He ran his hands gently down her flanks onto her outer thighs and then circled back to the sides of her breasts and repeated the movement, skin barely touching skin. He reached through the slim gap between them and cupped her wet folds. He ran his fingers up to tease her clitoris. Andi became more vocal every time her mouth wasn't covered by his and returned his kisses eagerly when it was.

Even as his passion rose once more, his concern for her wellbeing held him back from completely releasing his inhibitions. He still feared hurting her, recalling those words she had spoken directly to his cock before she washed it.

”My first.”

He knew she was wet, she was sodden and so were the bedclothes underneath her. Would that be enough? Not only was he going to force his quart into a pint pot, he was going to do it with a quart sized rigid bar and tear her delicate flesh as he mercilessly thrust it in.

Should he let her ride him and control the pain by adjusting the depth of her squats or was it better for him to watch her eyes for any sign of distress as she received his engorged organ? Was there any way of loving her gently when gentleness wouldn't achieve what they both desired?

No, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her. Deliberately causing her pain, making her cry. Only the change of her vocalisation from squeaks and moans into a forcefully delivered demand prevented him from ruining everything by ending their embrace there and then.

"Oh Paul, PAUL! Fuck me, Paul, please fuck me. I need you inside me, there's no barrier, ram that enormous cock up me, I can take it, I need it. I NEED YOU TO FUCK ME, PLEASE!"

Again, it was two words in Andi's monologue that caught his attention: ”no barrier” - words which directly contradicted the implication she had made about her virginity. Was she still pure? Could he listen to the sobbing which would be the inevitable consequence of making either choice if it was the wrong one? Was he her first man but not the first object inside her?

If it was anything that swayed Paul's decision as he tried to reconcile his confusion, it was the tone of her voice. Her pleading, begging, desperate voice. ”FUCK ME, PLEASE!"

Mind made up, he lifted from her, quickly but gently rolled her over and splayed her legs apart as she came to rest on her tummy. He put his thumb into his mouth for a moment and then his big broad hand slid into the gap between her thighs and the pad at the base of his fingers rested on her clitoral hood.

If he was going to enter her then there could be no such thing as 'too wet'.

His saliva coated thumb pressed firmly against the small opening and the fluid she had already secreted eased its passage as it popped past her outer defences. There was no space inside her with only his digit inserted, how the hell was his meaty cock going to replace it? Paul knew he couldn't stop now and he bent his hand to move the tip of his thumb an inch deeper. Reaching what he hoped was the correct place, he began an upside-down beckoning motion against the wall of her sheath whilst rubbing the four knuckles buried at the top of his palm against her sensitive button.

Paul knew that he'd got the positioning right when she began to squeal and her head and limbs thrashed vigorously from side to side. There was no squirt, but his hand was drenched as she released even more juice to coat her pussy with natural lubricant. Quickly, before it ran out or dried up, he withdrew his hand, flipped Andi onto her back and moved across the bed. Scooping his arm below her legs, he lifted them and let each one fall onto the crook of one of his elbows.

Moving himself back towards her torso on his knees, he slid his hands up to the sides of her shoulders. The backs of her legs bent over his arms and were forced outwards as he rose up and her body bent double, slightly lifting her bum from the bed. He was fully hard now and his firm bell rested where his thumb had been moments before.

Looking deep into her beautiful brown eyes, he leaned forward slowly but firmly and the thick head of his slightly curved manhood penetrated her body for the first time. He was as gentle as he could possibly be, but he was implacable. In tiny fractions of an inch he pressed his hips towards hers, driving that hot, thick, rigid cock deeper and deeper into the reluctantly yielding opening which led upwards towards her womb.

He sensed more friction as his shaft was about half way inside her, so he stopped the slow inwards pressure and, not much faster than he had entered, pulled back until he felt the constriction of her entrance against the underside of his bell. Judging the movement as best he could, he briskly slid forward again by the same amount and slowly withdrew. Quickly in and slowly out, whilst he saw Andi's eyes dance and she incoherently moaned her love for him.

A couple of minutes in that rhythm and then he began to put a little weight behind his hips on the inward strokes. Each successive one plunged him deeper inside her delightful young body until he was rocking his hips right up against the stretched curve of her bum. He was using his whole length now, from bulb to root, driving himself to the utmost in long and steady thrusts. Every time that he pushed his long cock to the end of its journey he felt a lump faintly brush the very tip of his head. He knew then that he was completely possessing every last inch of his lover's secret tunnel.

Her mouth had taken the pent up urgency from his balls and he was happy to fuck in this position all night, but he knew that eventually her muscles would cramp in their unnatural contortions. He was enjoying slamming himself to her very limits, though. Fuck, she looked beautiful with that glow on her face - even beatific perhaps. He kept his hips rocking for about ten minutes, then pulled back the extra inch on a withdrawal stroke and popped back out of her.

Still as hard as iron, he bent to her ear and whispered, “Kneel up.”

 

[AndreaSubbie]

“Kneel up.”

She had almost panicked as he had pulled out, not ready to stop fucking, needing so much more.

Paul's mouth and fingers had played her like a virtuoso with his violin, then she had been in the air, lifted effortlessly by his strong hands and set down on her tummy, and his hand had started doing amazing things to her from behind, driving her wild, something incredible deep inside her body, making her quiver and gush.

Then just as suddenly she had been on her back, his arms under her knees, until at last, after all the misunderstandings and wasted time, he was inside her.

Paul was inside her. He had finally penetrated her. After all her waiting, all her begging.

He was inside her, just, getting deeper, her insides demanding more of him, wanting to be filled, stretching to acccept the monster invading her body. But then he was out, and in, and out, and in, getting a pattern going, giving her what she craved .. could this be even better than sucking on his huge erection? Did she want her previous programme replaced with a thorough Big Bear fuck every morning, meal time, and night?

Just as she had been getting used to the feel of him, to having another person buried deep within her body, he had stopped.

Oh no! Panic had hit her eyes as he pulled out! She wasn't ready to stop! She needed so much more!

“Kneel up.”

She smiled a secret smile and squeezed his neck. There was more. Plenty more!

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Paul released Andi's legs and walked backwards on his knees until he felt the edge of the bed. Standing up only inches away from it, he watched as she eagerly scrambled to position herself as he had requested and he gently eased her feet to shoulder width apart, placing them so they just overhung the mattress. Resting his knob on her outer lips, he placed one hand between her shoulder blades to guide them downwards and the other on the side of a hip. As her face touched the cotton, he thrust his hips forward in one irresistible surge and buried his entire length back inside. Pausing for a moment as she gasped loudly, he lazily started a slow and gentle in and out motion with his hips and buttocks.

He lightly guided her pelvis until she matched his rhythm, swaying her pussy backwards as he filled her and forward again as he withdrew. Their opposing motions kept them balanced and when he knew she was moving as enthusiastically as he, Paul began to increase the amount of power supplied by his muscles. Without changing the pace of his thrusting, he slammed his belly again and again into her arse, his shaft pounding deep into her very heart and his balls swinging forward at the end of each stroke to slap against her clitoris.

Satisfied that Andi would keep the steady pace, he leaned forward over the small of her back and reached round to cup her small, pert globes in his hands. Once more, his thumbs began to circle her nipples. Randomly, one or the other digit would flick sharply across the protruding nubbins. After long minutes playing with her firm breasts, his right hand moved again to flutter across her taut tummy dipping briefly into her perfectly shaped belly button.

Neither of them had noticed that it was nearly midnight. Time had no meaning and the thirty minutes they had spent in each other's embrace could have been thirty seconds or thirty hours.

Paul moved his hands back to her hips and began to move faster and press harder into her soft body.