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Shakespeare in love
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She sighed. The dress rehearsal was over and the actors left the stage.
She enjoyed this time. Every time a big venue took place she took some
of her valuable time and spent it in the empty theatre. She closed her
eyes, imagined what it would be the next day, how the people would come
in, would be captured by the play. She sat in one of the big chairs for
quite a time. In the meantime, even the last one of the orchestra had
packed his instrument and left. The lights were dim and the air smelled
of the actor's perfume and the fresh paint on the timber stage set.
She stood up and entered the stage. All sounds were muffled by the heavy
curtains and the overstuffed armchairs. She wore only light shoes, her
steps were quiet and resilient. The time for high heels would be
tomorrow night, but usually she tried to keep her feet relaxed and
healthy.
She'd been the only one in the room who did not wear any kind of
historic dress being an actor or white tie being musician. She wore her
favorite dress for this moment, a light summer dress with a flowery
pattern. She crossed the stage and looked into the auditorium, as always
pretty impressed by the size and the vintage splendor of the theatre.
The stage set showed scenery from Shakespeare's house, more precisely
his bedroom.
She wasn't very happy about the actors play. It was too static, too
constrained. There was no passion, no lust and no thrill of excitement.
She turned and looked out for people on the balconies and the circle.
She was along.
With a big smile she sunk on the bed, pressing her fists to her chest.
"I do not know how to undress a man...", she shouted, quoting from the
play, her voice full of desperation and suppressed emotions.
She laughed and lay on the bed backwards, watching the complicated
mechanics above her head, invisible from the auditorium and usually
hidden behind the heavy curtains. She relaxed. Being on stage was a
feeling she couldn't describe. It was a mixture of arousal, excitement
and tension. She imagined that laying in that bed, in front of a
thousand pairs of eyes, would have been pure sex. Even now she felt her
feeling ran high. Would the crowd notice if the actors would not only
play having sex, but actually bang each other? Maybe they did. Maybe she
just watched them without knowing.
No, she shook her head. There were no real feelings involved. Real
feeling would look different. But would she dare to show her real
feelings, right now, right here? Even in front of an empty theatre it
was thrilling to pull up her dress. Slowly she exposed her legs, firstly
just up to her knees, but soon she pulled it further up. A couple of
moments later her dress was up to her panties. She was stunned. Even she
did nothing more than lifting her dress she felt her juices flow and
wet her panties...
The actress, she watched not long ago, only wore skin-coloured underwear
without any patterns. From the distance, she looked naked, but without
any of the usual features like niplpes, pubic hair or a bumcrack. What
did she feel like? Did she notice her exposure at all?
The dim lights, the warm air, the unusual location put her in a
dangerous mood. She acted like being remote-controlled. Slowly she stood
up and walked over to the edge of the stage. With two fingers she
opened the straps of her dress and it slid down her body, exposing her
in her underwear. With one foot she kicked the dress down into the
orchestre pit. Seconds later her shoes and socks followed. More dancing
than walking she moved back into the stage's centre, where the huge bed
was located. It was an exciting feeling, she was trapped inbetween shame
and ecstasy. She was an actress now and played in front of a excited
audience. From the left to the right, from the back to the edge of the
stage she danced, walked, jumped, laughing and expressions of joy on her
face.
But then she stopped and hesitated. Her underwear was delicate blue and
clearly visible for everyone sitting in the audience, watching her. The
illusion of nakedness would never work with something like that. She
smiled, quickly looked around and removed her bra and her panties. In
her head she heard the people whispering elated whilst watching her
strip. Without hesitation both things found their way down into the
orchestre pit, following the rest of her clothes. She was naked,
completely exposed and she felt as free and thrilled as never before.
She danced back to the big bed in the centre of the stage, sinking into
the lavishous bedding. Again, she started quoting the plays dialogues,
her voice filling the empy room, bouncing back from the walls to give
just the right impression of the very big room she was in.
Laying on the bed she suddenly felt her arousal. Her body gasped for a
touch. She threw away the bedding and lay backwards on the mattress,
stretched her arms and legs into the corners of the bed. She imagined
being tied up to the bed rails, being unable to move and being exposed
to the audience. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and started
touching herself. She moved one of her hands to the hot and wet spot
between her legs, started rubbing and squeezing her sensitive flesh.
Right after she started touching herself, she also started to moan,
first very quiet, more a whisper. She got louder and louder until she
nearly screamed. She smiled while doing it, she remembered Meg Ryan. But
now her arousal was real. She took away her hand, suppressed the urge
to continue and ceased moaning. The echo of her arousal faded away. Had
anyone heard her screams?
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Posted on : Jun 28, 2014
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