Page 2 of Opening Night in the Dressing Room

“Why are you telling me this now?”

He shrugs. “Maybe Puck’s right about opening night of this show, because… I can’t hold it in anymore. I’ve been near the edge of my control all night. You’re so efficient and demanding. Creative, too. Seeing how you solved that problem with the hickey and put those actors in their place. Fuck, it was sexy.” He comes closer and this time I feel it. His long length pressing along the base of my spine. His veryhardlength.

“I want you, Adriana. Have for a long time.”

Still a little incredulous, I spin to face him and put my hands on my hips. “If that’s true, then fuck me right here in the dressing room with the door open.”

We both know if the stage manager catches us having sex in here, he’ll fire us before the show’s even over. He’s done it once before.

Luc doesn’t hesitate at all. “Okay.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. I can get another job, but I might never have another chance with you.”

I shake my head, not believing what I’m hearing. “You might be ready to get another job for a fling, but I’m not.”

He crowds me against the vanity. “I don’t want this to be a fling, love.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Pretty words, pretty boy.”

There’s no way a guy like him, in his prime, wants an actual relationship with a woman almost a decade older than him.

He grasps my hips and lifts me onto the vanity table, hands immediately running up my sides under my shirt, until his thumbs are skimming the under wire of my push-up bra—because you don’t get to be almost forty without having saggy tits. No matter who tells you otherwise.

“Nope.” I push him back and hop off. He looks like a wounded puppy. “Don’t give me that face.” I can’t believe I’m going to do this. “I just mean not here.”

Taking his hand, I lead him to the back corner of the room where the racks of costumes are lined up in rows. I can’t exactly lock the door to the dressing room. The actors and actresses might need to get in, but these are the costumes we’re not using this show, or the ones that are already done for the night.

It’s darker back here, the lights only on in the main part of the room.

If we’re doing this, I’m taking control. I won’t be laughed at later when he says it was all a joke. I won’t fall into a trap. This is just to take care of the incessant itch I’ve had all night. I’m gonna be the one using him. Not the other way around.

As I walk, I pull off my black shirt. He trails behind like the obedient little puppy he wants me to believe he is. Next, I wiggleout of my black pants. He groans from behind me, and when I look over my shoulder, I catch him checking out my ass. He’s practically drooling. I’ve never felt more powerful in my life.

Maybe he does want this. Doesn’t mean I’m letting down my guard, though.

By the time I reach the end of the row, I’m in only my bra and panties and he’s only in a tight pair of Sponge Bob boxer briefs. I want to laugh at his choice of underwear, but my mouth is suddenly dry when he hooks his thumbs in them and reveals what’s underneath. Nothing childish about that.

He’s hard as a rock and leaking so much pre-cum it drips off him. There might be some benefits to being with a younger man.

I lean against the wall and take him in. Totally naked, framed by racks of brightly colored costumes on either side of him, he looks like a perfect little mannequin. I have the sudden urge to dress him up, which is quickly replaced by the urge to wrap myself around him and make him wearmelike a dress.

Still a few feet away, he sinks to his knees and crawls forward until his lips reach my feet. He kisses the top of my right foot, the ankle, then his lips light a path up my leg and body until he’s standing, kissing my neck and fisting my hair.

I feel my control slipping away from me, and I desperately need to keep hold of it.

“Hands on the rack,” I rasp.

He smirks. “You want to tell me what to do? Is that how you like to play?”

“Oh, fuck, yes.”

He tickles my ear with his breath. “Call me a good boy, and I'll do whatever you want.”

“Be a good boy, and I’ll call you one.”

He grins at my smart ass remark and turns to do as I say. His hands fist the bar that’s chin level for him and he steps back to wiggle his ass, intuitively knowing exactly what I want.

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