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If you're not old enough to read this, "why are you here?? Go away..."
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..
Philharmonic Encounter
We came out of the main doors during intermission at exactly the same time, just two amongst a small crowd of smokers.
I had opened my tobacco tin lid as I brought it into my hand.
Then I reached in my pocket with my left hand and pulled out a one-skin roll, which I put to my lips.
I'd noticed him from the side of my eye amongst the crowd, his eyes darting back and forth; he was a slim, blonde with cat-green eyes.
His style was very 80's, very `Midnight Cowboy' just without the hat.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of B & H, then a cigarette, which he put to his lips.
I caught what he was doing as I put the tin lid back on.
Our eyes met as we both began frantically searching our pockets, for a lighter.
His grin was infectious, as he found his lighter first. Then I'd found mine.
Yet as he flicked the wheel on his and nothing happened. So, I'd tried mine.
It'd fired up and I'd won.
Once more, our eyes met, as he nodded; kind of an acknowledgement sort of thing.
I lit my smoke, then held kept the flame going and extended my reach a little, cupping my hand round it, shielding it.
Passing by the couple nearest to me, he stepped forward.
"Want a light?" I asked.
"Yes please," he replied, as he leant forward and cupped his hands round mine.
As he lit his cigarette, he looked up and into my eyes, his right forefinger caressing the back of my left hand.
He stood up, his hand still on mine, the cigarette in his left hand, as he inhaled.
"Nice," he said, exhaling slowly.
"Yes," I muttered aloud, thinking of how nice it was to have his finger stroke my skin.
"My names Alan," he said with a grin, as he evidently noticed my discomfort.
Fact was, I was interested.
"And, mines Toby," I told him quickly.
"What do you think of the play, Toby?" He asked.
What to say? Was he the playwright? A friend of theirs??
The truth.
"I hate it..." I answered, after my deliberation.
"Why?" He queried.
"Too much talking, not enough happening," I responded.
"Hah!" He exclaimed, "Is that a hint?"
I blushed. Couldn't help it.
And, I'd really grown accustomed to his touch: I liked it and wanted more.
"Are you on your own?" I asked, hopefully.
"Nah," he answered, "but, if you wait out here five minutes, I'll ditch my mates and go somewhere. Less talk, more action. How's that sound?"
How did it sound? It sounded marvellous.
"I'll be here," I assured him, missing him already, as he moved back into The Philarmonic, with the rest of the crowd, so as to be ready for the second half.
As it was, it looked like I might be having a private show of my own.
That sounded scary, but good.
I'd only been with three guy's before meeting him. Most of my experience was with women, and older women at that. Just sometimes, that need took over.
This was one of those times.
I lit another cigarette and began counting seconds, till finally I heard his voice.
"Hi, I'm glad you waited!" He said with a smile, running down the steps from the theatre to meet me.
"And, I'm glad you ditched your folks..." I said in turn.
He grinned, slipped his left arm round my waist.
"So, where to, loverboy?"
`Loverboy?' I began to get hard, thinking of him just saying that to me.
"I don't know," I replied, "I don't know Liverpool. I live over the water on the Wirral."
"Well, I want to get acquainted better. What about The Adelphi??" He said, with a squeeze to my waist.
The Adelphi?
At one time it had been one of the biggest and most ornate hotels in Liverpool.
In it's time.
"Sure, anything you want," I answered, a tad naively.
I say that `coz of what he said next.
"Anything?" He asked.
And, I don't know what made me answer, `yes', but I had.
"Yes, anything." Funny, for some reason, I meant it.
Well, the walk from the theatre to the hotel took about ten minutes and through the whole walk, I didn't mind the looks we got as we walked arm in arm.
Soon, hopefully, I'd be doing more than linking arms, with Alan.
As it was, I would.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
He had booked a room with a double bed, and then turned to smile at me, as he took the key. And, though I'm sure the desk clerk realised why we were there, all she had done was smile sweetly, saying, `Have a nice day.'
I didn't know about the night, but I sure intended a nice afternoon and possibly the evening, if he could spare the time, I had mused stepping into the lift with Alan.
In the lift he turned to me, then caressed my right cheek with his left hand.
As his fingers traced the length of my lower lip, I trembled,
"Are you alright?" He asked, with concern in his voice.
"I'm fine," I answered, "I .. I .."
I wanted to say, `I want you', but was scared. This was all happening so fast.
And, as if to prove the point, the lift arrived at our floor.
Once we were in our room Alan took me in his arms and we embraced. He then pressed his lips to mine and we kissed, his tongue in my mouth, left hand behind my head, right hand on my buttock, squeezing.
As we drew apart a moment, he felt my arousal, while I stood immobile my own hands at my sides.
It had been the same each time before, I'd make the play, then once alone, become theirs, to use as they chose.
Evelyn, my last lover said I was meant to be a fucktoy. She'd said that just after dressing me in a French maids outfit, with small white pinny, from Ann Summers.
And, Evelyn had known what she'd been talking about. That night I'd served her and two friends, as they drank wine and teased me; before she had taken me upstairs.
She'd had me kneel over her bed, panties round my thighs, as she'd slid into my well-lubed arsehole, a six-inch dildo, attached to the harness and rubber panties she wore.
The thing was so designed, that as she pumped her hips back and forth, the other end of the dildo rubbed itself against her blood-engorged clit.
Evelyn had so-loved fucking me.
She could last for hours, cumming again and again. At the end, I'd have sore knees and well-dilated sphincter muscles.
That was then; now, I watched Alan unzip my jacket, then allowing it to fall to the floor, he began to undo my shirt buttons.
Looking down, I saw his fingers work deftly; to reveal the lilac I wore beneath the white.
"There's something I should tell you," I said softly.
He grinned.
"No kid?" He retorted with a grin, as he ran his hands over my button hard nipples, beneath the lilac slip.
"I'm bi," I told Alan, as he unfastened my belt buckle, then unclasped my jeans.
"And..." My trousers fell to the floors and around my ankles, allowing the slip to fall to mid-thigh, my arousal tenting outward, through dark tan tights and really pretty, purple panties worn reversed, to hold me in place.
"And..." I began to say more, but his fingers were playing with my nipples again.
I just closed my eyes and sighed.
"...and play with my tits like this..." I gasped softly.
"And, I'll be good for nothing, but being your fucktoy."
I knew what I'd said. It was as good as an offer: and, boy, did I hope he'd take me up on it.