BLUE MOVIE, part four

“I’m glad you’re here,” Roscemi said, wringing his hands together. “I mean, I knew you’d show. I’d seen what you do back there in the theatre. I thought to myself, that’s the girl for us. But you know, you can’t stop worrying. There’s a lot riding, we got people here. So you know, I’m glad you showed.”

She’d met Christian at a diner just up the street, wearing an overcoat and yet feeling very exposed. They’d walked up to the club together.

At first, she’d thought there was a mistake. The exterior lights were off. A sign on the door read ‘Closed for Water Main Break.’ But a gentleman had escorted them to the side door.

Inside it was business as usual, people went back and forth. They stood in the lounge while Roscemi scurried out to meet them dressed in a tuxedo. The place was cleaner than she expected. Nicer than she expected, with an old fashioned opulence. She understood now what Chris had meant when he said ‘Vegas Chic.’ It was all red leather and velvet and shiny black enamel, the sort of place you might imagine Dean Martin or Sammy Davis Junior passing through.

It reminded her a little of her movie theatre. Less seedy and run down, better repair, better kept, but the two places shared something of an aesthetic, perhaps even the same designer. She found herself smiling slightly.

“We’re going to have a full house tonight,” Roscemi muttered. Over his shoulder in the main lounge, she could see the tables were already filling up, white tablecloths everywhere contrasting with the muted red decor. She could see little beads of sweat on the man’s forehead. He was nervous.

Faith marveled that she wasn’t nervous. She felt she should be, but she wasn’t. Rather, she felt expectant.

“This is Chris,” she said. “Christian.”

Roscemi shook his hand, Faith watched to see if he picked up on the resemblance, but he didn’t. Was it just her?

“Your boyfriend?” Roscemi asked.

“He’s just my friend,” she clarified.

Roscemi nodded. “I get that. You want me to put him close to the stage, where you can see? We’re full but...”

The idea made her a little uncomfortable. It was odd, she was going to be watched by strangers, but the idea that she’d be watched by someone who knew her, someone that she could see watching, felt weird.

“It’s not necessary,” she said. “He can sit further back.”

The club owner shrugged indifferently.

“I’ll take you around the room, show you the stage, then we can put you in the green room until showtime. Tom’s already there.”

He lead them past tables, pausing occasionally to chat with some of the guests. Once or twice he introduced them, and she smiled and said something polite, not wanting to focus on them.

The lounge was series of levels descending to the main floor, where a small stage was erected. On it, luminous in stage lights, was a mattress, and just behind the mattress a love seat, both covered with cream coloured sheets.

“White sheets are too blinding,” Roscemi said. “But I guarantee you, everything is fresh and laundered. Clean and classy.”

For the first time, staring at the stage, Faith felt butterflies in her stomach, a nervous trepidation. It came home to her that she was going to be up there, naked, on her back, a complete stranger thrusting into her. The lights would be in her eyes, she wouldn’t see them, but she’d know they were there.

What the hell was she doing? It felt like her previous nonchalance, her calm acceptance was some sort of dreamlike state, that she hadn’t really grasped that this was real.

Faith found herself blushing, her face and skin running hot. For a moment, she wanted to simply turn around and walk out.

Instead, they went to the green room where Chuck awaited them. He was taller than she expected, but slender. His hair was somewhere in that indeterminate space between brown and blonde, fine as corn silk. He sported a mustache, the hairs too fine for any sense of presence.

He looked, ordinary, just another face you’d see on the street, dripping with average, not good, not bad, not even bland. A person you’d pass by with no particular impression, forgetting the minute you saw them.

Maybe he had a big cock? Should she ask? Would that be rude? Could she see it?

They shook hands, and she was conscious of the awkwardness of the gesture, vividly aware of what they’d be doing later.

Roscemi pulled a vial from his suit. “You’ll be up in forty,” he announced. “I gotta get back, things don’t run themselves. Before I go, you want some blow? Good stuff.”

Surprised, but not really surprised, Faith shook her head. Perhaps because of her refusal, Chris and Chuck declined.

“Awkward to snort alone,” Roscemi said, but he did it anyway, as they watched. It was the first time Faith had seen anyone do cocaine. She’d seen it on television and movies, but this was the first live demonstration. She felt that perhaps she’d lived a sheltered life.

“Oh,” he said finishing up, “you probably want a stage name. Unless you go up on your real name, but that’s not a good idea. Everyone has a stage name.”

“Hope,” she said. It just popped into her mind. She thought for another second. “Hope Springs.”

Roscemi grinned.

“Hope Springs... eternal? I like that.”

“And he’s Slater.”

No one got it.

&&&

The stage lights shone in Faith’s eyes. Sitting next to her co-star, Chuck, on the couch on the stage she was acutely aware of the lights, she could barely see the audience, they were little more than shadows and shapes, a soft murmur of whispered voices.

The lights were too bright. They weren’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t that they hurt her eyes. They exposed her, this wasn’t like the theatre where she could be a goddess in shadow. She was on display all her ordinariness and drabness illuminated for everyone to see. She could feel Chuck sitting beside her, see him from the corner of her eye.

The music started, and as they had worked it out, they were supposed to start making out. Then would come undressing, then oral sex, naked fondling and finally coitus. It had been pretty simple in the dressing room.

Chuck leaned in to kiss her. Involuntarily, she turned her face away, rejecting him. One hand tapped his thigh. That was the signal to wait.

Faith was blushing, she found herself looking up, out, everywhere but at her companion. This had definitely been a mistake.

He tried to kiss her again, and again, she turned her face away nervously, tapping his thigh.

She just didn’t want to kiss him. His face was too bland. His mustache too silky, the hairs too fine, like a caterpillar. She just wasn’t attracted. The thought of his lips against hers, his mouth, it seemed awful. There was an intimacy there that she just didn’t feel.

Her face was hot, she didn’t want to leave the stage, but didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want to sit there and do nothing, that felt excruciating, but she didn’t want to kiss him. If only they could just go straight to the sex, but she felt frozen, unable to see the way. She had to do something.

She thought back to the theatre, where sometimes, she would touch men without ever acknowledging their existence.

Experimentally, she looked away from him, up towards the ceiling of the theatre, affecting to study with great interest as her gaze wandered. She whistled tunelessly.

Then, without any of the rest of her acknowledging it in any way, her right hand crept onto Chuck’s thigh, stroking it.

Chuck put his hand on Faith’s thigh. She froze. With exaggerated motions, she looked directly down at the hand on her thigh glaring at it.

“Let me go with this,” she whispered.

Then her head darted up, staring at him. Outraged, she lifted her free hand to her heart, and then raised it as if to slap him, making an angry “Oh!!!” sound.

Chuck cowered and pointed at her hand. Faith gasped and jerked it away, as if his thigh was suddenly a hot stove top. She waved it, shaking it at the end of her wrist, as if to get cooties off. Then she primly pressed her knees together, folding her arms, and turning her body slightly away from him.

There was a titter through the audience, a chuckle here and there. Something inside Faith leaped up, they were laughing for her, it made her feel this odd lightness, an elation. She wanted to play to it.

She resumed her seat next to Chuck, sitting primly, knees forward. She glared at Chuck, admonishing with a finger. He shrugged. But as their eyes met, his sparkled a little, he nodded ever so slightly. Her lips quirked in a smile as they exchanged unspoken communication. He would follow her lead.

It was all she could do not to grin. But she maintained a stern expression, as once again, her arm, completely unbidden crept its way onto Chuck’s thigh. Chuck didn’t try to touch her or kiss her, he just looked down at her hand, working its way up his thigh, and then her, pointedly ignoring him, and gave an exaggerated shrug.

Her hand found his crotch. It leaped into the air like a trout, and then dived down. Chuck was at best only half hard, and it was in his loose fitting trousers, so there was nothing too exciting to find, but the audience couldn’t see that.

Instead, Faith allowed an expression of absolute astonishment crawl over her features. She looked down at Chuck’s crotch in surprise, her free hand leaped to her mouth, closing over it in horror. Appalled, she pressed her hands to her bosom, pressing her knees together, turning her body away from it... but unable to look away.

Whatever was in Chuck’s pants, her body language said, it was fascinating. Apparently despite herself, Faith clearly couldn’t help her curiosity. She needed to investigate further. First one, then both hands made their way into Chuck’s cock. She began to stare, her expression a mixture of curiosity, disgust and... excitement.

Her face turned a little from the audience, she winked at Chuck. He gave the slightest nod ‘go ahead.’

Faith’s apparent fascination grew, she played with his pants, displaying childlike glee. Almost accidentally, she found his zipper and opened it, giving the audience an exaggerated gasp of surprise. Chuck was becoming genuinely hard. Faith played with the zipper for a moment, zipping it up and zipping it down, grinning broadly, almost laughing with glee.

Then her brow furrowed, as if a new thought had occurred to her. The audience saw a mischievous, even sneaky look come over her features, and she reached inside the unzipped fly.

Again, a titter of mild laughter. Faith ran through a series of expressions, intensity, confusion, curiosity, amazement as she felt around in there. Finally, her hand closed on Chuck’s cock, and she allowed herself to frown, as if trying to figure out what it was she was holding. Puzzled she reached in with both hands, arms moving back and forth, as if trying to work out the shape. She squinted looking thoughtful, tongue clenched between her teeth, clearly fascinated and devoted to unraveling the mystery she’d found. She leaned over Chuck, over his crotch, almost hypnotized, her head beginning to descend.

Chuck tried to kiss her once again. She pushed his face away, unwilling to be distracted.

Although Faith couldn’t see it, Chuck gave the audience a suffering ‘what the hell!’ look, threw up his hands, and laid back, leaving Faith to the object of her admiration.

Faith lowered her face almost to it, hands digging in.

Quickly, she looked directly at the audience, eyes and mouth wide in an exaggerated pantomime of shock. She bent forward and down, digging so that her nose almost touched his cock. Then she looked out at the audience with a huge grin, like a little girl unwrapping a present and discovering a live unicorn under the Christmas tree. She pulled Chuck’s erect cock out of his trousers holding it up straight, obediently, Chuck lifted up his hips, to enhance the expression.

Faith grinned wildly at the audience, pointing at it with over the top gestures.

There was a ripple of applause, with a smattering of cheers and laughs.

Faith turned back to it, dropping her mouth over it, taking the head between her lips.

What now, she asked herself. She wasn’t undressed, he wasn’t undressed. Where were they going to go with this? Sucking his cock with him simply laying there wasn’t very exciting for the audience, she needed to do something else.

Letting it drop from her lips, she crawled up Chuck, until she was facing him. He lifted his head to look at her.

“I want to suck your cock on my knees, with you standing,” she whispered.

He nodded and tried to get up. “Sounds good.”

Faith pushed him back. It wasn’t good enough, they needed more. “Okay, but we’ll keep doing it right. I’m crazy for your cock, but not for you. So when you stand, you don’t want to let me have it. You want me to kiss you. Then you wrap your arms around me, loose, and I duck out, and then I go down.”

His eyes were luminous. “Got it,” he whispered.

Chuck stood up, his erection rampant as his trousers slid down his thighs. On the loveseat, Faith made pawing motions, like a kitten, as he took it out of her reach. He stood proudly, pants half off, butt exposed, arms folded.

Faith climbed off the loveseat headed towards his erection. Chuck turned his back. She pressed up behind him, reaching around. He grabbed her wrists and put her hands on his upper chest. The minute he released, she laddered hand over hand rapidly down towards his cock. But he caught her just before she reached it, and laddered her back up. Faith gave the audience a frustrated expression.

Then she smiled at Chuck coquettishly, even though his back was turned, the audience could still see.

“Kiss me,” she said loudly.

“About time,” Chuck replied loudly. He turned and took her loosely in his arms.

Faith gave him a little peck on the cheek, and then dropped out from inside his arms, falling to her knees, grinning broadly, his erection in her hands.

A round of applause.

Faith’s grin widened, she pointed at it, milking the moment.

“Suck it!” a male voice yelled from the audience.

Faith looked confused. She pointed again at the erection in her hand. This?

“Yes,” voice came again, “suck it!”

Faith looked even more confused. She pointed at herself. Me?

“Yes! You!”

Faith looked disgusted, and shook her head. No!

“Do it!”

Faith got an inspiration, she grinned enthusiastically, pointed at the place in the audience the voice had come from, with the stage lights she couldn’t see anyone clearly, then she pointed at Chuck’s cock.

The audience roared. Faith went red, not with embarrassment, but elation. She was doing it, they were responding to her. Chuck’s body was shaking. She glanced up and could see he was struggling not to laugh. It added to her warmth, they were in it together.

“I’ll suck it!” a female voice called from somewhere else.

Faith looked in that direction, nodding rapidly, pointing at that area and at Chuck’s cock with delighted enthusiasm.

“Maybe later,” the voice called.

Faith nodded and shrugged. She turned to eye Chuck’s cock critically, stroking her chin, tilting her head this way and that as she examined it.

Then she opened her mouth and dived on it, taking half of his length into her mouth, her hand wrapping around the base so it looked like she took it all. She’d never done that in her life and her gag reflex kicked in immediately, but she slid her lips back off almost as rapidly, and gave no sigh. She turned her face to the audience giving them her proudest smile.

A strong round of applause. Faith was elated. She felt excited, full of energy, she wanted to dance. It was this easy, she thought. They loved it, they loved her. All she had to do was practically nothing, and they loved it. They laughed and cheered for her. Why hadn’t she ever done this before? Why had she hesitated and debated. This was great! This was a better feeling than any of her lovers.

She put up a stern expression, holding up her palm. The audience quieted down.

They do whatever I want, she exulted.

She nodded soberly at them, turning to the erection, looking it over thoughtfully, her face a mask of concentration.

Holding Chuck’s erection, she ran her lips and tongue along the shaft, keeping it clearly visible.

Out of nowhere, she remembered the two gay men and watching her first live blow job, and how distressingly dull it had been. She’d watched so much technique up on the big screen, so many ways lips and tongue and mouth could be used, in gargantuan close up. Of course, real blow jobs were meant to be felt and not watched. The stuff in the movies was performance.

She was in front of an audience, and she’d watched all this technique, she could do it all. The idea of it excited her. She was wet, her nipples were hard, but more than that, she was just excited. She glanced at the audience and licked the head like an ice cream cone, pulling back the foreskin and swirling her tongue around it.

Faith used everything she’d ever learned, reproduced everything she’d ever seen, she licked his balls, suddenly looking guiltily at the audience as if caught, popping a testicle out of her mouth and returning to the shaft. She teased and licked, sucked, suckled. Along the way, they got his pants off completely. Once she deep throated him all the way down, holding it there for a count of ten, unsure of how she managed that. When she tried again a moment later, she gagged right away. All the while, she’d constantly look to the audience, putting on different expressions, licking her lips again and again, and mixing it with every technique she could think of.

“You’ve got to stop,” he whispered.

That was the second time, he’d said it just before, but she hadn’t listened.

“What?” she whispered. She moved her head forward, opening her mouth wide so that his cockhead was just between her lips, but not touching. She battered at the urethra with the tip of her tongue.

“I’m going to come,” he whispered urgently.

“Right now?” she whispered back. She turned to the audience and licked her lips broadly. “You can’t, it’s too soon.”

“I know!” he hissed. “But you’re going to make me. We have to stop and do something else, or I’m going to blow.”

Faith knew with absolutely certainty, that she didn’t want to leave the stage. She nodded. Pretending a moment of distraction, she cupped her ear, and then gazed searchingly at the audience, as if someone had said something, the cock temporarily forgotten.

When she turned back, Chuck’s hand was covering his erection. Angrily, she batted it away, from her place on her knees, she looked way up, giving him a fierce look. She shook her finger warningly. Don’t do that again!

Then she jerked her thumb towards her. Mine! She reached for Chuck’s erection, but he stepped back.

Chuck pulled off his shirt. Faith, on her knees, reaching for his erection, glanced up, looked back down, and did a blatant double take. Slowly, she got up off her knees, stepping towards him, obviously fascinated by the exposure of his hairy, manly chest. She approached, hypnotized as Chuck puffed out his chest, obviously preparing to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately.

Faith put his shorts on his head, covering it like hood, and passionately began licking his chest hair and nipples.

Head covered, Chuck’s shoulders slumped in dejection. He pushed Faith away. She stepped forward. He held up his hand.

“Get naked!” he ordered.

Faith made a show of looking confused.

“You’re already naked!”

“What about you?”

She shrugged.

“I’m fine,” and tried to advance.

“Take off your top,” he ordered.

Faith rolled her eyes and pulled a ‘gee mom, do I have to?’ expression. She pulled her blouse off, glancing down at her bra, and did a double take.

What’s this! She looked out at the audience, jaw dropped, eyes wide, and then looked down at her cleavage, as if she’d noticed it for the first time in her life.

Immediately, she began struggling futilely with her bra, pulling and twisting at it, hopping around. She squirmed up towards Chuck, twisting against him.

“It won’t come off, help me get it off! Get it off!” Faith was growing frantic, as if her bra, formerly unnoticed, had become a python choking the life out of her.

Wrapped in Chuck’s arms, she kept twisting around, so that he couldn’t unclasp it easily. Finally, it pulled off, and her breasts were free! Once again, she stepped forward, wide eyed, jaw dropped, utterly fascinated, as if she’d just discovered her breasts.

Tentatively she reached round in broad gestures touched her nipples with the tips of two fingers, and flung her hands away wildly, with an ecstatic surprised inspection. She cupped her breasts, rubbing them sensuously, proudly showing them to the audience.

Chuck approached, reaching for them. Suddenly possessive, she held them away from him, shaking her head. She looked back out at the audience, grinned and pushed them out. Chuck took another step.

Faith giggled and ran off the stage, thrusting her bared breasts, almost as if she was inviting the nearby tables to cop a feel. The audience was roaring with applause and laughter. Faith had half a mind to do it, she wanted to thrust her breasts into the hands of complete strangers, feel their fingers, their palms, enjoy their surprise and pleasure.

But some part of her shied away, she wasn’t sure what the rules were or how strict they were. She didn’t want to get arrested for felony bosom thrusting with intent to nipple. She’d overstepped, she thought, it would be better to get back to the stage.

She scampered up, and halted as she approached Chuck. Clearly uninterested in him, she shifted from foot to foot, swinging her shoulders, and pulling another ‘Gee Mom, do I haaaave to?’ expression, as Chuck reached for one of her breasts.

The minute Chuck’s hand curled around one of her breasts, Faith’s expression shifted. She gasped, offering the audience a wide eyed look of surprise, and then a growing catlike pleasure as his hand moved, she rolled her eyes and smiled like a Cheshire cat, pushing her breast into his hand. Abruptly, she grabbed his other hand, pushing it onto her other breast. She squirmed ecstatically, pushing back into Chuck standing behind her, as he kissed her cheek.

The two of them played like this, rubbing up against each other, Faith squirming with ecstasy, as if she’d never been felt up before, and it was the greatest sensation she’d ever experienced. Their hands were all over each other, and she all but purred.

Chuck unzipped her skirt and slid down her panties as she stepped out of it.

Now as naked as he was, she stepped forward, hands on hips, and thrust her pelvis boldly. An expression of confusion came over her. Faith looked down, and reacted as if startled by an absence. Eyes wide with fake panic, she looked at the audience, and then quickly cast glances at the floor, as if something might have fallen off.

Faith started to scurry about, when Chuck put his hand between her legs. Faith went rigid with astonishment and surprise, a look of orgasmic pleasure stealing all over her, she went physically wobbly, her knees shaking.

Eyes lighting up with the apparent dawn of comprehension, Faith’s mouth opened wide. She looked out at the audience, pointing to Chuck’s erection, then between her legs with her other hand, and smiled slyly.

Faith turned to the audience, wide eyed, and gave an elaborate shrug, spreading her arms, hands open, as if to say innocently: Well how about that! Who knew!

They climbed onto the loveseat together, side by side on it, kissing passionately, their tongues sliding against each other, lips pressing.

God, she hated that mustache! She hated it passionately! It was like kissing a caterpillar. She throttled back the impulse to tell him so right away, it would hurt his feelings. But surely, she couldn’t be the only one.

“That was wild,” he whispered, as the kiss broke. “That was a lot of fun. But it’s my turn, all right. I’m going to fuck your brains out. Understand? I’m in charge!”

She grinned wildly. It was perfect, he was perfect, as long as he wasn’t actually kissing her. He was right out of a porno, back at the theatre. Even his dialogue was perfect. For a second, it all blurred, and she felt like she was back at the theatre, except that it was her up on the big screen, she was the star, and it was wonderful.

“Yes,” she told him loudly, so everyone could hear, “fuck me! Fuck my brains out! You’re in charge! Fuck me with that big hard cock!”

They were on their sides. Conscious of the audience, she lifted her outer leg, pulling it up and bending the knee, grabbing her ankle so that her pussy was fully visible, completely on display. She could feel the motion parting her vaginal lips. She felt a delicious surge of wetness. They could see her, she was completely on display.

Awkwardly, Chuck lifted and twisted, getting into position, thrusting his cock up into her pussy in glorious full view of everyone, it was perfect. As much as Faith loved it for what it showed the audience, neither she nor Chuck could maintain that position for very long, nor could Chuck thrust deep.

They folded up, climbing over each other on the love seat. Chuck got his feet on the floor between the seat and the mattress, and pulled Faith until she was on her back. She looked up at him, realizing the audience couldn’t see her with him in the way. She splayed her legs wide, as if doing the splits, moaning loudly so they could hear her. Chuck grabbed her ankles as he thrust into her.

“This isn’t working,” Faith told Chuck, thinking of the audience. With his hands grabbing her ankles, she couldn’t even wrap her legs around him or do anything. As far as they knew, she was making shadow puppets out of sight.

“Yeah,” he grunted, “it’s too low. I can’t fucking get deep.”

“Sit down,” whispered between loud moans, “I’ll get on top. Then we’ll move to the mattress.”

“Okay,” he said. He shifted, releasing one ankle, pushing her over on her side and plopping himself on the loveseat. Where was the style, she wondered. It was like he was just moving sacks of potatoes.

Still, Faith climbed on top of him and sank down, moaning in genuine ecstasy at how good he felt inside her. Faith was soaking dripping wet, she felt an overwhelming sense of arousal, accompanying and rolled into the general excitement of performing, the thrill of being watched.

He was too far up, she thought. It would be better, so much better, if his butt was closer to the edge of the love seat, the audience would see it better, she could roll through a full arc of motion. She bit back the suggestion, and rode him, thrusting up and down on him, enjoying the clenching of her thighs as she rose and fell, feeling the delirious rush of him lunging up inside her.

As she rode him, he grabbed her breasts, thrusting his face between them, biting and pinching her nipples. She arched backwards, offering her breasts, making sure he didn’t try to kiss her.

It felt good, but sort of wasted. The audience couldn’t see him doing it, couldn’t see his hands, or her breasts. They saw nothing but her twisting back, glistening sweat dripping off, and heaving ass and maybe his cock shaft between her legs

Grabbing his wrists, Faith leaned back on him, arching so far she could toss her head back and see the club upside down, her glistening sweat and saliva slick breasts catching the light, rising into view. Look at me, she thought. Watch me, she thought, her arousal coursing through her with every beat of her heart, as if her blood had been replaced with some fluid of divine ecstasy. She was made for this, she thought.

Chuck heaved, and for a second, her stomach fluttered in vertiginous motion. With the strength of his thighs, he’d lifted up off the love seat, lifting her into the air, her ass cradled in his hips, his cock deep in her, holding each other by their wrists. For a moment, she felt herself suspended in the air, and that sense of being in the theatre, but being up on the screen instead of the audience was overwhelming.

Faith just had time to be sure she’d actually seen this position on screen, had watched someone do it. Then the bottom fell out, she fell, back, Chuck’s cock slipping out of her, and there was an instant of free fall before she hit the mattress and bounced, the surprise making her laugh.

Chuck was on top of her. Mounting between her legs, he kissed her passionately, and then raised his head. “Get ready for round two, baby!” he whispered. “I’m going to fuck you, bowlegged.”

Why was he whispering?

“Yes,” Faith cried out loudly, “fuck me hard with your big cock. Oh god, I need it, I want it. I’m hungry for you.”

Disappointingly, he didn’t reply. Instead, he thrust into her, and she lifted her legs up, spreading to give him access, pulling her knees back, to get him deep and wrapping her legs around him because it looked good. She wiped her upper lip with one hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and reached out with both arms, running her hands over his shoulders and chest.

On top, bracing himself above her, thrusting into her with a steady powerful rhythm, she watched the sweat roll off him. The sex was good, it was very good, his cock was hard and thick, with just enough bend in it so that you could feel it move.

Chuck was a potent lover, thrusting relentlessly, his body lean and muscular. He had an awareness of her, of her body’s responses and responsiveness, and adjusted to it, slipping into her own rhythms and driving them to greater and greater intensity. It took her breath away, she’d never had that from her brief history of regular lovers, men who knew their cocks but not her body. It enhanced her pleasure immensely, and they writhed together, their bodies synchronizing in pleasure as she reached her first orgasm.

With her on her back, with him in control, he seemed in his element, prepared to fuck her forever.

But there was something missing. Where was the audience, Faith wondered? He seemed oblivious to them.

To Faith, it felt like she knew exact where the audience was, where they were sitting, how many, who they were. Even if they were in the dark beyond the studio lights, she still held that sense, that sense of being watched, of knowing she was watched, loving being watched. When she fucked, she knew what they were seeing, how they were seeing, she wanted them to see, they were part of her pleasure.

But Chuck didn’t play to them, he seemed blind to them. When he moved, he didn’t feel like he was moving for them, or that he was aware of how they saw or what they watched. When he fucked her, he was in her, aware of her, almost in communion with her body, but unaware of them.

It felt incomplete, Faith was not just aware of the audience, she wanted them, hungered for them. Wanted to be watched, needed their attention, their affirmation for her further pleasure. She wanted the excitement and ecstasy of fucking, but also to be seen, to have their excitement.

On her back, as Chuck pounded her, she had an epiphany. As he slacked off, she rolled over on top of him, riding him once again, this time facing the audience. She rode him like a pony, sliding up and down, consciously fondling her breasts, running her fingers through her hair, vividly aware of the shine of sweat on her skin, the way her body looked and moved in stage lights. Chuck’s cock moved up inside her, she reached down pulling his hands onto her breasts.

Faith looked out into the darkness seeing indistinct shapes at their tables, here and there a lit cigarette. She could see the contours of the club, people standing at the back. At the nearer tables, the suggestions of clothes and colors. No one moved, no one breathed, they were all watching her, hanging on her every gasp and moan, enthralled by the beauty of her fucking. They were hers, to laugh when she wanted, to gasp when she spread, to seduce and hypnotize. She gave them her passion, her arousal, her secrets. They took everything, and gave her fulfillment.

She remembered Plato’s people in the cave, watching life as shadows. Faith felt like she’d emerged into the sun, into life. She wondered how she’d never done this before, her existence felt like shadows, marking time before she finally found... this.

Chuck’s powerful thrusting picked up speed, she could feel the awareness of his orgasm building through their shared communion. His head lifted to her ear.

“Change position,” he grunted, “or I’m going to come.”

Faith nodded, understanding. This was his thing, when he approached orgasm, he’d change position, to interrupt his flow. It was comforting, at least he wasn’t a machine to pound her into oblivion.

She slipped off him, returning to the love seat, kneeling sideways on it with one foot on the floor. He joined her there, focused on her, while she looked out, aware of the audience and how much they loved this position, how much was on display, and that excited her wildly, taking her to her second orgasm.

They changed position, she took him in her mouth, showing off technique, positioning him to best effect. His lack of awareness of being watched allowed her to guide him, to shape him and present him. All he wanted to do was to fuck, which she loved, but her greater awareness made him her puppet.

She straddled him as he briefly licked her pussy, showing the limits of his ability as a lover, but she didn’t mind. She went to hands and knees on the mattress, vividly aware of how her breasts swayed, looking out into the darkness, arching her back to make her ass stand out. When he entered her from behind, she cried out in raw uninhibited pleasure, feeling his hands on her hips, feeling him fill her, looking out into the darkness and loving the fact that they were seeing her like this. She didn’t know which was the greater pleasure, the audience in front, or the man and his cock behind, and she didn’t care, they both worshiped her, there was no difference, no boundary, she felt glorious.

In the end, they were drenched with sweat, buzzing with sex. She could tell Chuck was tiring, that he was passing to that place of orgasm denied too many times. Faith guided him onto his back feet to the audience, straddling him and lowering her pubic mound until it hovered over his face “I’m going to make you come, all right?” she leaned back, to say. He nodded.

She preferred this position, fully on display, the cock rising up beneath her. The soles of his feet presented badly, with barely a thought she guided his knees up until his feet were flat. His thighs framed his erection like pink pillars. Faith loomed above, her breasts swaying magnificently.

He wasn’t touching her pussy, she wasn’t being stimulated in any way, but straddling him like this, Faith’s arousal was undimmed. She was so wet, that she thought she might drip on him, that her lips would open to his touch. Her skin tingled, her heart raced. They were racing towards the finish, and she felt utterly in control and absolutely reckless. She had the feeling of elation she’d experienced when she’d made them laugh, when she’d torn applause from them. This was a performance, and she was bringing them all to the climax.

Faith descended, taking his cock in her mouth as far as she dared, working up saliva. When she lifted from it, threads of spit connected her lips to his erection. She looked out into the audience and then down, deliberately spitting on his erection again and again moving her hand up and down until it glistened and shone.

Staring out into the audience, her grinning, smiling, her expression alive with excitement, she glanced down at the cock, rapidly masturbating it, and then back out again. It was silent out there, she could feel them, everyone on the knife’s edge, heart pounding, hardly daring to breath. All eyes were on her, all attention focused on her, as her fingers played with the wet cock, as Chuck moaned and his hips flexed, as she took it in her mouth.

Faith was the first to feel his orgasm, she felt the sudden rigidity in her hand, a pulse of heat in the body under her. She felt a sympathetic response, her own body heating up, her sense of arousal and excitement. Dropping her head she took him into her mouth, closing tight, scraping lightly with her teeth to take him past the point of no return. In return, he bucked hard, his whole body seeming to levitate as she straddled him, she wobbled off balance. Chuck’s gasps, turned to loud grunts, and then a bear-like roar. Faith braced herself one palm on his knee to steady him, and grabbed his cockhead firmly, stroking furiously.

Chuck ejaculated flinging white spurts into the air. Faith was briefly astonished at how high his ejaculate flew, how much of it there was. Under her fingers, she could feel his penis pulse hot and rigid, the channel at the underside pulsing uncontrollably.

Then it was over, Chuck collapsed under her going limp. His cock still in her hand, continuing to pump semen in slowing pulses, the fluid running all over her fingers.

Theatrically, Faith released his cock, it fell, slowly deflating, and smeared his semen across her breasts. She opened her mouth wide, sticking out her tongue, and licked her fingers, grinning out into the darkness.

Faith had not had an orgasm, although it felt like it had come weirdly close. But now she felt the deep primordial satisfaction that comes with the most powerful ones, except that those left her drained, and this one left her almost sizzling with excitement. She felt alive, electrical, almost vibrating.

“It’s like,” she thought, “I’ve spent my whole life asleep, and I just woke up.”

How could she ever go back to sleep again?

They were still watching, still waiting on her, the mistress of ceremonies, the main attraction, the star. She stood up from Chuck, stepping forward, naked and not caring, loving being naked and sweaty in front of them. Faith, stood proudly, put a hand over her stomach, her other hand out, and bowed deeply.

That was the signal. Suddenly, everyone could breathe again, could move and think again, the spell broke. Someone started clapping wildly, and then everyone was, and there were hoots and cheers. Faith found herself grinning, she couldn’t stop. She waved and bowed again.

Chuck climbed to his feet, visibly drained, she took him by the hand and they bowed together. They were all applauding her and she loved it. Someone came up and handed them robes. She shrugged into hers, flashed the audience one last time, giving a little wiggle dance.

The lights came on, and one of the staff led them from the stage to the back.

Roscemi was ecstatic. Faith smiled, but only half listened.

“That was fucking amazing,” he was saying. “I’ve never seen anything like that. Fucking brilliant. You got to come back again. We’ll make it a thing, a regular thing....”

“I really enjoyed working with you,” Chuck was saying.

“Likewise,” Faith replied. It just didn’t seem like the time to complain about the mustache.

“You threw me,” he said, “that stuff you did early on. But it worked. Where did you learn to suck a cock like that...?”

She said polite things, tuning him out. The massive surge of energy had passed through her, she felt tired. She was glad for the warmth of the soft robe, she almost felt chilled. Where was her Slater?

There he was, hanging back. She reached out to him, nodding, and he came. Faith wanted him close by. There was something reassuring about him, he was a rock, quiet, unassuming and eternal.

“Listen,” Roscemi said, “his cigar smoke was in her face. I know you want to relax. But I’ve got some guests, they really want to meet. It’s not sex or propositioning, they just want to meet you.”

Faith thought about it and shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Some other time, but not tonight. I just want to get away someplace quiet.”

She squeezed the Slater’s wrist to make sure that he understood she didn’t want to get away from him, that she wanted him close by, so they could be quiet together. She didn’t want to fuck him and hoped that wouldn’t disappoint him. Her sexual energy had dropped to zero. Faith just wanted him close by.

“Maybe get something to eat,” she said. “Some quiet little place.”

Roscemi beamed. “We’ll bring a table into the green room, table cloth, candle, the whole nine yards. You and your boyfriend. It’ll be romantic, like Lady and the Tramp. We’ll have the chef do something special.”

Faith laughed gently. Lady and the Tramp? Would they push a meatball around with their noses? She thought about correcting him, the Slater wasn’t her boyfriend. She didn’t even know his last name. It occurred to her that she should ask. She just wanted him close.

“Thank you so much, Gus,” she said. “I’d love it, I really would. But this is just... huge. My first night. I loved it. But now I need to go somewhere and you know... just come down.”

He nodded.

“I get that.” He shrugged. “Another time.”

Impulsively, she kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you for respecting me,” she said, which seemed inane and ridiculous, but in that moment, it was sincere. For a second, he almost seemed to blush like a little boy, smiling.

Someone thrust clothes into her arms. At first she didn’t recognize them, but then it clicked. They were what she’d been wearing on stage. She decided to leave them behind. She’d brought a change in the green room, something casual and comfortable.

“Are you okay,” the Slater asked.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Some coffee, a hot meal, that’s all I need. Just... you know, some quiet out of the way place, no one around. I think I need some quiet.”

“Like that place we went to?” he asked.

“Perfect.”

&&&

Christian leaned over her, resting his chin on her shoulder for a moment, and nuzzled her neck in that way that never failed to send shivers up and down her spine over the last forty years. Faith laid her hands off the keyboard, and waited while he read the screen in front of him.

“You know,” he told her. “I don’t actually look like Christian Slater. I’ve never seen the resemblance. No one else sees the resemblance. It’s just you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, cupping her breasts through her top, she clasped his hands, pushing them onto her, feeling her nipples harden.

“I see it,” she said. “I’ve always seen it. You know, I don’t think I would have let you touch me, otherwise, that first time. But the resemblance was there, and it made you seem weirdly familiar, and that was... reassuring.”

“I’ve put away the swing,” he said. “And all the awards are covered. We’re safe for the grandkids.”

“I don’t see why we have to cover them,” Faith said. “It’s not like they’re going to be climbing around in the bedroom. They probably won’t even go in there.”

“You know how Claire is,” Christian said. “She’s just protective.”

“We raised a prude.”

“Protective,”

“We were protective too, when she was their age. You remember.”

“I remember we didn’t have to hide the swing.”

“No, we just told her it was for insomnia. She’s never forgiven that once she realized,” but Christian smiled.

“Donny’s not a prude,” Faith said. “He didn’t mind the swing.”

“Just the same, I think he’d prefer his kids don’t play on it,” Christian said. “It’s grandma and grandpa’s special toy.”

“Is everything set up,” she said. “The turkey, the fixings. The cookies.”

He nodded, his chin nuzzling her shoulder.

“There’s always something, but yeah, we’re good.”

Christian took one last look at the words on the screen.

“You know,” he said, “I loved you. I loved you right from the first moment you walked in there. The bravest, most amazing woman I had ever seen. From the very first sight, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But you settled for a hand job.” she teased.

“It worked out. As it turned out, I settled for the rest of my life,” he kissed her neck.

“It was different for me, I guess I was on a journey, finding a path,” she said thoughtfully.

“Any regrets?” he asked.

“Not a single damned one,” Faith said.

“What a wild strange trip,” Christian said. “I wouldn’t give up a second of it.”

“Me neither. But that love at first sight... it didn’t feel like that. For me, it wasn’t right away, but you were there, and somewhere along the way, I just realized that I wanted you in my life forever, that you were the best part of me, and I never wanted to let you go.”

“I’ll take that,” he drawled, just like Christian Slater.

“You see!” she accused.

“What?”

“You’re fucking with me,” Faith laughed.

“I’m not!” he protested.

They snuggled together.

“Grandkids,” Christian whispered.

Faith smiled.

“Right,” she said, “let’s go.”

She saved her files and closed down her computer as he waited. When she rose, he took her in his arms.

“About that journey,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Something just occurred to me. About that Journey, the first step...”

Faith turned in her seat, they’d been together the so long they could practically read each other’s minds. She put her hand on his cheek.

“That first step was you,” she said, and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The End