one until she cried out, and then did the same to the other. She began to grind harder against him and whispered out all the very naughty things she wanted to do with his cock.
All the things she wanted him to do to her pussy.
He held her to him with an arm possessively around her shoulders. “Does this mean you’ll put on a tiny little skirt and a slutty shirt and bend over for me, so I can see the pink of your pussy staring at me? Will you let me lick you while you take a test?”
Her breathing quickened. “If I flunk my test, will you spank me?”
Matthew groaned louder. “Do you want me to spank you?”
Lynn started to fall victim to a building orgasm. Her breathing intensified and she could only nod her head. She pushed herself up and settled her pussy on his hardness to ride him. Matthew licked his thumb and rubbed her clit while she played with her breasts.
“You can do whatever you what to me, Matthew. Whatever you want.”
“That’s a dangerous request. You don’t know the things I’m capable of.”
“Anything. Everything.”
Her features were illuminated by the lamplight, make her look like a phantom or a dream, but the feel of her wetness so was real. There was no dreaming, this creature was really riding him, squeezing him with her tight walls and following the rhythm of his hips.
“Anything for my Juliet.”
He grabbed her hips and thrust upwards, fast and fierce, and watched her cry out in building ecstasy. Would she really stay with him every night? Could he really have his Juliet as often as he wanted, insatiably and greedily fucking from sun up to sun down? They could audition together and then fuck in closets while waiting for callbacks.
One night, he was going to take her back to that rooftop garden and gift her with so many orgasms, the building owners would have to call the police.
It stopped being sex. This wasn’t just body parts moving together. This was making love; this was creating something harmonious and beautiful, uniting two souls between the sheets. If their sex was music, it would be a symphony. If it was art, it would be a Monet. If it were theater, they would be Shakespeare.
To say it out loud would be impossible. To claim it would be insanity. But with the light surrounding her, the pure ecstasy on her face, and the heavenly noises coming from her lips as he buried himself in her, fusing them together, he finally understood. After years of study, he finally, absolutely got it.
For the first time, he understood how Romeo fell in love after just one night.
Seven
“ G ood luck ! Remember, show no fear. They eat it for breakfast around here.”
“Thanks.” Matthew gave a two-fingered salute to his old professor. “I’ll be sure to emerge victorious.”
“You’ll do wonderfully, Matthew. You’ve always had the gumption and the talent. Teaching it to young, budding minds is almost as fun as having sex on stage. Almost.” Professor Heston wheezed out a laugh and ambled out of the door as the bell rang. “Let’s do lunch after this period, okay?”
“Your treat.” Matthew pointed to him.
“Young man, you’ll learn none of us have money. It’s the plight of growing young minds. Call it a business meeting and I’ll write it off to the department.” He waved again from the hall. “Can I get you anything before the firing squad arrives? Bourbon? A tourniquet?”
“Buzz off, old man. I’m going to wow the minds of tomorrow with my sage advice and mature wisdom.”
“I’ll tell Lottie to send in the body bags.” With a wink, the old man disappeared into the theater room next door.
Matthew took one final look at the emptied classroom and rubbed his neck. His first class went by okay, but it was a Theater I class and everyone treated it like the blow-off course it was. Then, he had two periods of in-service. Fourth period felt like his first real class period, where everyone was actually awake and would be listening to him speak. Probably.
Really,
Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain