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Getting Hot and Heavy With My Scene Partner

by Elle A. Wild about a month ago in fiction

Lady M isn’t such a lady after all

Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash: https://unsplash.com/@dainisgraveris

This is a work of erotic fiction intended for adults 18+.

Even before my last class of the day had ended, my hands were shaking and sweaty.

My scene partner, David and I had plans rehearse our Macbeth scene together after school, which wouldn’t have been anything to sweat over if it weren’t for the way our last scene study class had gone down…

See, our teacher had quickly decided that as Macbeth and Lady M, David and I were terrible. We didn’t “have enough passion” or bring the necessary oomph and ferocity to the classic scene.

This wasn’t really surprising. David wasn’t a very experienced actor, and I’d long been a soft-spoken good girl — not at all the strong Lady M archetype.

Our teacher’s solution to the lack of passion?

She instructed us to make out and feel each other up while running the scene. Whatever we wanted. Whatever we were feeling “in the moment.”

I know it probably sounds crazy to anyone who didn’t go to acting school, but I promise this was what she had us do.

And as a fresh eighteen-year-old with my first boyfriend (a long way back home), this was scandalizing and titillating and scary and exciting!

Now, David was nearly thirty, and he was hot. Not just kind of hot; he’d worked as a male model before all of this.

And apparently, I had to somehow act, remember Shakespearean lines, and make out with him all at once.

On our first attempt, our teacher stopped us because we weren’t “committing.”

The next time though, we went for it.

And fuck, how his tongue in my mouth and his hands grabbing my ass sent all the barely-not-a-virgin shocks of electricity through me.

I really had no idea how it went except that after the last line, our teacher said, “Finally!” and instructed us to rehearse the scene like that the next time he and I met up to practice on our own.

And that’s why my hands were still shaking when I opened the door to our reserved classroom, prepared with my instructions to passionately make out with my sexy male model scene partner.

“Hey,” David said, smiling, having arrived first.

“Hey.” I tried to act casual, but broke eye contact quickly, sure I was blushing.

I was already embarrassingly wet from thinking about it in class, and I hoped he didn’t end up somehow noticing.

I put my things by the wall and met him in the middle of the room.

“Ready?” he asked. I nodded and walked a step closer to him, an arm’s distance away, and began my lines:

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;

What hath quench’d them hath given me fire. Hark! Peace!

He closed the distance between us and put his hands on my waist as I struggled through my next few sentences:

It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman,

Which gives the stern’st good-night. He is about it:

David pulled me toward him, pressing my body up against his so that I could feel his growing erection. As I spoke my lines, he ran his lips along the side of my ear and nipped at my neck lightly with his teeth.

I think I cried out, but then to my own surprise, I reached around to grab his ass, and I tilted my face to open his mouth with mine.

Our lines were said in stops and starts in those moments when our mouths weren’t on each other’s or when they’d moved to each other’s necks or chests.

It felt like another me —like another person was running the controls inside me. And that was frightening. To see and feel myself both grabbing him and allowing him to manhandle me.

At one point, he laid me on my back on the floor and climbed on top of me.

I could feel how hard his cock was beneath his jeans as I pressed up against him. When he pinned my arms to the floor with his hands I was very nearly ready for him to have his way with me.

But as it so happened, the scene was technically over. We lay there for a moment, pressed up against each other and looking into each other’s eyes.

Fuck, I wanted him.

Fuck.

And so, good girl that I was, I rolled out from under him, managing to stand up on shaky legs.

“I completely forgot,” I said, rushing over to my things. “I agreed to work early today.”

That was a total lie, but I absolutely could not be in that room with him for another second.

“Okay… Do you want to rehearse tomorrow instead?” David asked.

“Sure!”

I tossed on my backpack and ran out the door without looking back at him.

I spent the whole night at work (including the time I spent waiting in the staff room for my shift to start) replaying it all in my head, getting tingly and wet every time.

It probably goes without saying that I was not a great employee that night.

I was also a less than attentive student at school that next day. I tried as much as possible to keep my distance from David and avoid eye contact. Luckily, I had no other scenes with him and was generally able to sit on the other side of the room.

I’ll admit, however, to watching him more intensely as he ran his other scenes, my eyes stopping on his lips and then drifting to the bulge in his pants.

The crazy thing was how much more intensity there was in all my own scene-work that day. It was as though the anticipation of working with David again that evening flowed into every other actor-actor interaction.

When the time finally came to head back to that classroom to meet him, I was a tangle of nerves and arousal.

Remembering how he’d been on top of me the day before, I had to admit to myself how close I’d been to losing control.

If he had tried…

I pushed the thought away and pulled myself together as I entered the classroom, and this time, I was there first. That was good — it gave me time to breathe.

I was a professional, I told myself.

But when David walked into the room a couple of minutes later, his mere presence made me feel a little dizzy. I could smell his cologne — a scent that had quickly become entwined in my brain with feelings of desire.

“Hey, great work today,” he said as he set his things down.

“Thanks, you too.”

I was definitely blushing. But I need to clarify — I did not have a crush on him. I just really, really wanted to fuck him.

But I wasn’t going to.

Because I was a professional, I had a boyfriend back home, and I was in control of myself.

“So what do you think — let’s do the scene once with the…exercise. And then maybe do it once straight after that?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, betraying nothing.

So we began the scene as we had the day before, stood just a few feet from each other.

I started my lines and watched him walk slowly toward me, and in turn, I began to walk slowly backward, “in the moment,” not taking my eyes from his.

Then I stopped, held my ground.

David grabbed me by the waist and began to kiss me roughly, using his hips and legs to get me walking backwards under his control.

I felt my back meet one of the classroom walls.

My husband!

He slipped his hand under my shirt and then under my bra to cup my breast. He continued the scene:

I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?

I gasped as he flicked my nipple, and my words came out husky.

I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.

Did not you speak?

He removed his hand.

When?

I wanted it back.

Now.

I grabbed the edge of my own shirt and pulled it off. Then I undid my bra and dropped it on the floor to stand topless in front of him.

I took his hands and placed them on my breasts, watching his eyes — the mixture of surprise and desire in them.

I unzipped his jeans and slipped my hand inside to feel him. God his cock was hard. And big.

His hands dropped from my breasts, and more quickly than I could process, he was lifting me off the ground, his hands under my thighs as I wrapped my legs around him.

He held me up against the wall, grinding against me, kissing me roughly.

I bit his bottom lip just hard enough, and he let me slip down the wall to my feet.

I started the next of my lines, turning on one foot to walk in the other direction, but he caught me by the arm and spun me into him, my back pressed up against his body.

He wrapped one arm around my chest, his fingers just touching my collarbone, then turned his head to bite the side of my neck.

I gasped, but he was already pulling me to the ground. I turned onto my knees towards him, straddling him.

I pulled off his shirt and pressed my breasts against his chest, feeling the catch in his own breathing.

But then again, we were moving as he rolled me onto my back, him leaning over me.

He took one of my nipples in his mouth as he pulled off my pants, leaving me in just my wet thong. With one hand, he caressed my mound and slid a finger into my panties, feeling my wetness.

He came close to whisper into my ear — not lines this time, “You’re a very bad girl.”

“Yes.”

He leaned away just enough, and I watched him remove his jeans and underwear, leaving the whole of his tanned body exposed.

His cock was ready for me.

“Turn over,” he said, and I did, turning my ass toward him.

His fingers moved my thong to the side, and I felt the head of his cock at the entrance to my very wet pussy.

I was a bad girl.

He plunged the fullness of his cock into me in one thrust, and I stifled a cry, wanting no one in any nearby classroom to hear.

He started to fuck me hard and fast, my ass in the air and my face against the floor of the classroom. Never had I been taken like that.

As his grunts began to increase, I knew he was getting ready to cum. And I wasn’t having that.

I slipped away and rolled over, leaning back on my hands.

“You’re going to make me cum first,” I said.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

David crawled toward me and pulled my panties the rest of the way off. He buried his face in my pussy, licking and sucking as I moaned.

When he slipped first one finger and then two inside me, I knew it was over. He fingerfucked and sucked me until I came hard and loud, his other hand pressing over my mouth in time to muffle most of it.

When finally, I stopped shaking, he removed his hand and I sighed.

“No you don’t,” he said, lifting me up and carrying me over to a nearby table. He stood me on my feet and bent me over the piece of furniture.

He slipped himself back into me, slapped my ass once, and then started fucking me again. I put an arm under my face to moan into it because the feeling of his cock in my post-orgasmic pussy was shockingly intense.

Again, he went hard and fast, fucking me into oblivion.

I don’t know how long it lasted, but eventually, he asked me urgently, “Where should I cum?”

I just had to say:

How easy is it then! Your constancy

Hath left you unattended.

In response, he fucked me harder and fast, and I felt his cock begin to twitch within me.

He groaned, thrusting into me as he came, sending every drop of cum inside my now well-used pussy.

David slowed to an eventual stop, and then collapsed on top of me, the sweat from his chest slick on my back. We breathed together.

After a couple of moments, I reached a hand back to smack his ass.

Get on your night-gown, lest occasion call us

He laughed at that and stood, looking around for his clothes.

“Great work today,” he said for the second time that evening.

“Thanks,” I smiled. “You too.”

---

You can find links to more of my erotica on my website!

fiction

Elle A. Wild

Elle A. Wild is a city girl who loves writing character-centric sexy stories that surprise even herself.

Elle writes from a perspective of female empowerment and pleasure, and if you’re not into that, well, she’s probably not for you.

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