Opening Night on the Balcony

A noise like a thud draws my attention to the sound booth. A hand on the glass. Bouncing breasts being groped from behind. Is that Heather and Van? No way!

Well, I guess it kind of makes sense. They're both kind of awkwardly weird in their own way. Good for them.

"As long as you finish before intermission ends," I whisper, even though they can't hear me. "Get your freak on, little weirdos."

I'm already in place for act two, which for me means I'm in the house, up in the balcony. I sing the first song from here while surveying the commoners below. It's one of my favorite songs in the show and I love the director's choice to put me up here. I love seeing the audience's confusion as they look for me when the song starts and then the excitement when they find me high above them.

The door to the balcony swings open, and a man steps in. "Oh, sorry, one of the actors told me—wow. You're… incredible. That first song. Just wow!" He blows a breath through his dark, plump lips. "I've never heard a voice like yours."

The door swings closed behind him, forgotten. He's got that star-struck look on his face that feeds something in my soul and makes me preen. "Why, thank you."

I love interacting with fans almost as much as I love being on the stage. Attractive men drooling over my talent is a highlight of my life. And this man is very, very attractive.

He's the perfect height for kissing without straining my neck. The start of a beard speckles his chin and cheeks. Not so long it'll impede a kiss, but just long enough to give his jaw some extra definition and create a delicious scratch along my thighs. His shoulders are broad and stretch the button-up shirt he's wearing, which is, of course, rolled at his forearms in that way that's more attractive than it should be.

"I wish I had a pen or something to get your autograph."

"I always carry one on me for just such an occasion." I pull my favorite pen from where I stashed it between my breasts and his eyes go wide, then hooded. This man will be eating out of my hands—or some other part of me—in five minutes tops.

"I don't have anything for you to sign." He looks around, searching for something he won't find in the empty box seats.

"You have lots of things I can sign." I step into him and trail my nails down his chest. His Adam's apple bobs. An underrated attraction, if you ask me.

"But first," I drag the lidded pen along his collarbone, "do you have a girlfriend, boyfriend, wife, any sort of significant other?"

"Um, no."

I circle him like a fashion designer evaluating a model. "Would you like a memory that will stick with you longer than a signature?"

He swallows again and nods slowly, his gaze tracking my movements. He really is beautiful. That backside. Those shoulders. That narrow tapered waist. I bet he has a lovely Adonis belt.

"Do you solicit all your fans?" He asks, a cheeky smile gracing his lips as he finally shakes off his initial star-struck stupor.

"Surprisingly, no. I love the attention of a fan, but I typically like to keep my affairs more… private." I back towards the door, keeping my eyes on him while I lock it. "But I've had a terrible lady-boner since I first stepped on stage tonight. My co-star, Puck, says it's a curse of this show. It makes people inexplicably horny on opening night. I didn't believe him, but," I shrug, "here we are."

Licking my lips, I uncap my pen. "Drop your pants, starry eyes."

Without hesitation, he undoes his belt, unzips, and lets his pants fall to his ankles, uncovering his grey boxer briefs and a surprisingly massive bulge for his stature. Delightful.

"First things first." I kneel in front of him and scrawl my signature across his right thigh, intentionally brushing my hand across his hard package.

His head rolls to look at the ceiling, and he groans. "You're really gonna let me fuck you, right here, during intermission, in your costume?"

His dark eyes drop back down to me and the ample cleavage this costume is putting on display from my kneeling position below him.

"Actually, intermission is almost over."

Proving my point, the lights flash, signaling the audience to return to their seats. His face falls, but mine lights in a wide grin.

"I have a different proposition for you." I drag my hands up his thighs, looking up at him from my knees. "Eat me out during my solo, make me come before the last note, and then I'll let you fuck me. I have fifteen minutes between this song and my next one." I look him up and down. "That should be plenty of time for a man in his prime, like yourself." Lightly dragging my teeth up his cloth covered length, I add, "What do you say?"

"Can you really get off while performing? Won't it mess up your song?"

With a smile, I stand and pat his face. "Oh, honey. I'm a professional. And I've always wanted to come on a high note."

I wink at him and strut to the half-wall at the front of the balcony, feeling his eyes on me as I hit my mark. The lights dim. The music starts. My skirts lift from behind, and he lightly slaps my inner thigh to get me to spread my legs wider. The spot light hits me, and I sing right on cue while his breath warms my thigh, deliciously sensual.

Leaning over the balcony, I give him better access at the same time as I present myself to the audience and draw their attention.

I've sung this song a hundred times, so I immediately fall into the flow of it. It's natural, like breathing. But I've never done anything like this before. This will be one for the books.

I expect him to dive right in, eager to make me come so that he can fuck me afterwards, but he takes his time. This is a man who knows what he's doing.

His hands slide up and down my legs in time with the music. Lips brush the backs of my thighs before slowly dragging my panties down my legs. Then he brings his lips to the round curve of my ass and sucks hard enough to give me a hickey. My breath hitches just a little as his fingers gently glide between my legs, but I don't miss a note.

He lightly slaps my legs, signally me to spread wider, and I obey. He crawls between them to position himself in front of me. As he does, his short hair brushes across my pussy. He's going to have my slick arousal in his hair the rest of the night. The thought is as erotic as it is dirty.

Once he's kneeling in front of me, I straighten up, staying as close to the ledge as I can with him pressed between me and it. He grips my hips hard and tilts them so he can reach his prize. His flattened tongue slides up my center just as I hit the chorus. Thank goodness it's the easiest part of the song to sing because his pace and pressure are just right. I want to moan with pleasure, but can't, so I throw all of it into the song.

He groans, the sound lost to the music, and I only know because I feel the vibrations against my clit.

The gaze of the audience makes me shiver with delight as he laps my soft center. Why have I never done this before?

When I reach the bridge, his fingers slip inside me. He continues to lick with steady strokes. He's not rough or hurried. Despite the fast tempo of the music, he's patient, drawing pleasure out of me with each firm but gentle touch.

My climax builds along with the crescendo, a harmony of sensation and sound. I always feel emotional when I hit the high note of a song like this. Even without the sexual attention I'm currently getting, this moment in the music makes my skin tingle, my body tighten, my chest swell with pride and elation, but tonight it's so much more. When I reach my vibrato, he presses firmly on just the right spot inside me, wraps his lips around my clit, and sucks like he can't get enough.

I fall apart, gasping as the song ends, barely hitting the last note. The audience erupts in wild applause. Multiple patrons stand to their feet even though the show isn't over. I've never had that happen mid-show before. I don't break character, but I smile out at the crowd before the lights go out on me and rise on the stage where Puck gives the audience a cheeky grin.

The man beneath my skirts, whose name I haven't and don't intend to ask for, places a soft kiss on my pussy. I tremble, gripping the half-wall for support. After a few slow breaths, I step back, giving him space while I switch off my mic. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles deviously as he stands up.

But then his face falls. "Shit, I don't have a condom."

Stepping back into the shadows, I reach into my bodice and pull one out. "Like I said, a lady is always prepared."

"I thought you said you don't do this often."

"Doesn't mean I'm not prepared for it. I've always had a healthy appetite and you never know when the opportunity might arise."

He leans against the wall opposite from me and stares with hungry eyes like he wants to memorize the sight of me. My mystery man with the talented tongue.

When I crook a finger summoning him, he pounces, grabs me by the wrist, pulls me towards him, and spins me so my back is to his front. My stammering fan is definitely feeling more comfortable now that he's had his head between my legs.

"You're stunning." He kisses along my neck up to my ear, one hand spread across my belly and the other twisting through my hair. "So talented. So beautiful. A voice like an angel and a pussy that tastes like heaven."

"Keep it up and I'm going to want to ask your name."

"It's Samuel." He licks the shell of my ear and softly blows on it. "And I could sing your praises all night, my star." His hands move to my breasts and he roughly tugs my corset down just enough for them to pop out. With his chin resting on my shoulder, he takes in the sight of my full flesh cupped in his grasp. "I've never seen such perfect breasts. Look how well they fill my hands. And these nipples," he plucks them with his fingers, "so perfectly pink and puckered. I'd give a fortune to suck them."

"Then do it, starry eyes."

I spin and rest my arms on his shoulders. He wastes no time, bending so he can suck my right nipple while his fingers titillate the left with little pinches and pulls that have me moaning so loud he covers my mouth with his palm.

"Do I need to gag that pretty mouth so you don't go singing when you're not supposed to?" He inhales sharply and his eyes roll back like he's remembering something glorious. "God, you can sing. When you hit that high note," he shakes his head, "my whole body felt like it was going to explode. You were squeezing my finger so hard I could feel it in my cock."

"Who needs the gag now?" I tease, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

He chuckles as he works open the laces at the front of my corset. "I can be quiet, but I don't think that's what you want."

Once he's loosened the tight binding, he pulls it and my undershirt up over my head. This would be faster if I kept the costume on, but I love the way he's undressing me, so I'm not about to stop him.

My skirts go next, leaving me completely bare in the dark shadows of the theater box.

Chest exposed, he licks a line between my breasts, all the way up my neck to my bottom lip, which he softly bites. "I think you like me telling you how incredible you are. You get off on it, don't you?"

I nod, admitting he has my number.

"Good, because I don't think I could stop if I tried. You're a goddamn masterpiece." His mouth covers the skin of my neck and he sucks hard, this time giving me a hickey everyone will see, like he's autographing my skin, claiming it as his own, and I don't give a damn as long as his hands keep skating over my body and his hard cock keeps rubbing against me.

I wrap my leg around his waist and line myself up with the bulge in his boxer briefs—his pants are still crumpled on the floor where I first took them off. A tilt of my hips, and I moan loudly just as the music stops. Shit.

He grins. Loosens his tie, balls it up, and shoves it in my mouth. I spit it out as I push his dress shirt off his shoulders. "I have a better idea."

Lowering myself to my knees, I wrap my fingers around his waistband and drag his boxers down his legs, freeing his cock.

I know my way around a cock and have seen plenty of them, but this one… I couldn't have picked a better man to fuck. He's thick and veiny and gloriously hard. He's got a light dusting of hair that only makes his hard length more prominent.

I eagerly touch the tip, twirling my finger through the pre-cum that's gathered there. I look up at him as I bring my finger to my mouth and suck.

"Fuck," he curses, head falling back against the wall, before instantly looking down at me again.

I lick his cock, and his hand slams back into the wall.

"Fuck, your tongue feels so good."

"You should know, I haven't sucked a man off in a decade. Not since high school. I don't get on my knees for just anyone." I flip my hair over my shoulder, trying to hide the insecurity I feel. "I might not be very good at it."

"Superstar, there is no way you won't be spectacular. This mouth of yours," he tugs my upper lip, "it's perfect for my cock. Now, open up and let me prove it to you."

A second later, I'm deep throating him, opening wide the same way I do when I sing, breathing through my nose so I won't gag.

"Oh fuck. Fuck, superstar. You look so damn good with my cock in your pretty mouth. I wish you could see yourself. I didn't think anything could beat seeing you perform on that stage, but you on your knees spreading those lips for me, and me alone… Fuck, this is better. Your mouth is heaven." He strokes my cheek. "No one's ever taken me so deep." His fingers thread my hair. "You're incredible. Just like I knew you would be. Such a good girl, swallowing my cock like a pro."

He moans, and I pick his tie up off the floor and toss it at him. He laughs, but shoves the whole damn thing in his mouth. His praise doesn't stop though, he just communicates it differently, in eager nods of his head, clenching of his fists, thrusting his hips. Pulling my hair. In the twitching of his cock against my tongue.

Just before I think he's gonna come, he pushes me back, drops to his knees in front of me, pulls the tie out of his mouth, and tugs me in for a heavy kiss. We've both had our mouths all over each other, but this is the first time we've kissed and it feels like a promise neither of us wants to speak aloud.

Kneeling pelvis to pelvis, he adjusts his cock between my legs, grips my ass, and guides me to rub myself along his shaft, coating him in my arousal. The movement gives my clit the friction it craves, and I pant my echo of his praise. "You feel so good."

He grins, grabs the tie, wet with his saliva, and shoves it in my mouth. "Be a good girl and keep that pretty little mouth of yours full while I fuck you."

He sits back on his heels and reaches for the condom on the floor next to his pants. While he's searching for it, I decide to do something I hadn't planned. By the time he turns to me again, it's done, waiting for him to find later.

Still on my knees, I run my hands up my body, savoring the sensual feeling of my touch. His eyes never leave mine as he rips open the condom wrapper and rolls it slowly down his shaft.

"You're so damn gorgeous, superstar. I can't believe I get to see you like this." He lifts off his heels and raises one leg to the side of my body, knee bent and foot on the floor, so he looks like a prince purposing. He slots my body against his and wraps one of my thighs over his lifted leg.

Then he meets my gaze. "You ready?"

With the tie balled up in my mouth, I can't speak, so I reach between my legs, grab his cock, and guide him to my entrance.

He tilts his hips at the same time as I tilt mine, driving him inside me as if slotting a key into a lock.

I claw at his back, using him for balance and purchase. Positioned on our knees, we teeter, both needing to focus on balancing so we don't fall as he plunges into me. He's forced to make small movements, grinding more than thrusting, never leaving the places where I want him for long. I'm already panting and throbbing and so damn close. I can feel the heat of release building at the base of my spine.

Gripping my hips, he leans his upper body back so he can see me as I ride his cock towards my climax. His gaze stays on my face despite the erotic view of our bodies pressed together and my breasts bouncing heavily with each small thrust.

"So beautiful. So gorgeous." He whispers over and over like a worshiper at church, singing the chorus. "So damn beautiful. Unforgettably gorgeous."

I come in a crescendo that swells across my body and slams into him with a force I can see in his tense muscles and expression of ecstasy.

"You're choking my cock, superstar. Choking it so damn tight," he grits out, grabbing my throat like he wants to show me what my pussy is doing to his cock. He tightens his grip just enough to make my breath turn shallow, then he's throwing back his head and exploding inside me. I feel every kick and twitch and throb of his cock, and it sends me into a second, even stronger, orgasm.

After we're both spent, he lowers us to the floor on our sides and kisses me softly. For the first time, I'm aware of what's happening on the stage. Shit, I'll have to run if I'm going to make the costume change.

"I have to go." I stand up, scrambling into my skirt. He joins me on his feet, not bothering to hide the disappointment on his face, and helps me pull my shirt and corset over my head.

"Can I see you again?" He's an adorable, lovesick puppy. Even more star-struck than before.

"Maybe." I smirk. "If you find yourself in need of another autograph."

I kiss both his cheeks, then run out of the room.

What he doesn't realize is that I wrote my phone number on his boxers when he reached for the condom.

Hopefully, my number one fan will realize he has a number one fan of his own and call me. Because I definitely want to ride that beautiful cock again.