Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: Michigan
|Introduction: on a ladder|
"All Wrung Out"
The York Theater was generally quiet at night, unless there was a play going on,
of course. It was a good time to work, and Marcy preferred to get as much of
her work done then as she could.
As technical director of the large theater, there was always plenty of work for
her to do. Tonight she was hanging new house lights in preparation for Free
Food and Frontal Nudity, which would be opening the following weekend. Marcy
was looking forward to sitting down and actually watching the show. She'd been
too busy running around in rehearsals to pay much attention, but it promised to
be a lot of fun.
Right now, she couldn't think about that, though. Right now, she wanted to get
the last of her lights hung so that she could get off the large A-frame ladder,
down to the waiting arms of her honey. Her boyfriend had been waiting patiently
for her to finish this job so they could go home and get naked. She'd been so
busy this last week that they hadn't had sex in five days, and Matthew was
getting grouchy about it.
"I'm getting a little bored, Marcy." His voice floated up to her. It was a
sweet, velvety voice to match the heavy velvet curtains that hid the two of them
behind the stage. Her thighs clenched at the sound of it, and she worked
faster. Marcy had been getting grouchy about the lack of sex, too. Her body
was not happy with her.
"Almost done, Matthew. Be down in two minutes." She shifted the penlight she
held in her mouth to better see one last tricky catch. Marcy was so high that
she was entirely shrouded in darkness. Matthew was far below.
"I'll be waiting." There was a sensuous promise in those words, and Marcy raced
through the last steps. Then she tucked the penlight away and began climbing
down the long ladder. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty steps, and then a voice came
from right below her feet: "Freeze, sweetie!"
Marcy twisted around to look at the lower steps and found that Matthew had
interlaced his body partly into the ladder. He grinned up at her. "Careful,
now," he teased.
His sweet butt rested on a step, and he leaned back against two more, his arms
woven through the sides of the ladder, hands holding on. She could either jump
down now or climb over him, inevitably sliding her body against his. Marcy
started to carefully climb down, wishing only that he'd taken his clothes off
first--they were alone in the theater, after all.
She could smell his musky scent as she slid against him, and feel his hardness
pressing against his pants. Marcy lingered there, her feet on the floor now,
her pelvis pressed against his. He grinned, saying, "Now, if only you'd wear a
skirt to work like I suggested..."
"Not practical," Marcy replied, "as you know."
She leaned back, looking at him, and pulled some black tie-line from her pocket,
the kind she'd been using to secure the cables of the lights. "Hold still."
She began tying his hands and arms and legs to the ladder.
Matthew didn't resist, but he looked a bit confused. "Now, honey, if you tie me
here, I can't do all the nice things I was going to do to your body. I was
going to lick my way from your toes to your tongue. I was going to suck you
until you were dripping. And then I was going to make love to you until you
screamed." His voice was soft, persuasive, but Marcy only smiled as she
finished tying him up.
"I'm not going to stop you from doing any of that." Then she started taking off
First she slowly unlaced her workboots and pulled them off, then her socks. She
unbuckled her heavy belt and laid it down gently. The paint-stained overalls
came off next. Then the tight work shirt, under which there was never a bra.
Now her lovely figure stood in only a tiny pair of black cotton panties; she
pulled those off, too. Matthew strained against the restraints when he saw her
there, naked in the low lights. "Honey..."
She didn't respond, except by stepping closer and unbuttoning his shirt. She
pulled it open to either side, so that it was hanging off his bound arms and his
chest was bare. "Yum," Marcy said quietly, as she ran her hands down his chest.
Then she unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, and pushed them down just enough
to free his thick member. He never wore underwear when he came to see her.
"I'm not stopping you at all," Marcy purred. She began climbing the ladder
again, pausing for a deep kiss before she continued upward, sliding her naked
body against his hardness and bare skin. She stopped when her feet were at the
level of his head. "You said you wanted to lick my toes? Start licking, boy.
I'll move down when I'm satisfied."
"Marcy..." It was a brief moan of anguish, and then Matthew started licking,
with more care and energy than he'd ever licked her toes before. Marcy shivered
and clung to the hard wood of the ladder, trembling as he sucked first one toe,
then another into his mouth. An ex-lover had once told her that having a toe
properly sucked was the closest a woman could get to knowing what a blowjob
really felt like. She didn't know how true that was, but she was certainly
enjoying it. When Matthew had done all ten toes and the insteps of her feet
(almost causing her to lose her balance with the ticklishness), he started in on
her little toe again. Marcy took pity on him and slid down a step.
Now he could reach her calves and knees. Matthew licked thoroughly, over every
inch he could reach in his bound position, and it wasn't long before her sex was
throbbing. She slid down another step. Now the prize was in reach! Matthew
almost dove straight for it, but some wisdom made him reconsider and he licked
her thighs instead, breathed on her womanhood, licked right above it, licked for
several minutes until Marcy finally whispered, "Please..."
His tongue found its object, and Marcy shuddered on the ladder as the waves of
pleasure ran through her. Only a few strokes and she was cumming, clinging hard
to the ladder and crushing his head between her damp thighs. Matthew didn't seem
to mind, and her moans of pleasure were swallowed up by the thick curtains.
Then lower still. Now her breasts were in reach, and Matthew traveled between
them, licking and sucking and nibbling on the hard nipples that jutted out so
Her pelvis rocked against his lower chest, wetting it with the liquid that
flowed so freely now. His hands clenched on the wood of the ladder, as if he
would dig into it if he could. It was only when her feet slid to the last rung
and her dripping sex settled over his manhood and her lips met his that his
hands let go of their grip for a moment.
"Is this a good idea?" Matthew managed to ask, as she lifted her legs and wrapped
them around his. Marcy wrapped her arms around him, too, and began moving
against him, loving the thrust of him inside her, the warm, hard fullness of it.
"Just don't rock sideways," she said, and then she was kissing him again,
stopping further questions and forcing Matthew to give himself up to her
He found that if he braced his legs against the wood he could thrust fairly
effectively, and so they made love in the dimness, her sweaty wet body writhing
against his, and the ladder gently moving backwards until it was stopped by a
tall wall. Matthew moved in and out of Marcy steadily until he felt her muscles
clenching around him once more and, as her head tilted back, a long scream rose
out of her. It was only then that he let himself go, slamming wildly into her
until he came as well, in great shudders of pleasure.
Afterwards, she hung exhausted on him for a time, then slowly started undoing
the ropes. "Ready to go home?" Marcy asked.
"Oh no," Matthew replied, as he untangled himself from the ladder. He turned her
so that she lay against the wooden frame. Matthew gently hooked her arms through
the ladder and began tying her down to it. "Now it's your turn."
Marcy shook her head. "I don't know, Matthew. I'm not sure I'm up to it."
"Just trust me, sweetheart." And then he started kissing her as the
stage...faded to black.
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