as told by Bob King I guess I’m a character actor, kind of based on the Stalislavski method. As Friar Laurence in Romeo and Juliet, I wanted to be a wise old monk, advising the teenagers, plotting with them to fulfill their longing for each other. I didn’t necessarily want them to go to bed, at least not openly, but their love was a type of surrogate sex, because he was a monk and all. Though from what I’ve read of the period, they sometimes broke their vows. I look awfully young.
I’d have to have a tonsure, the kind of hairdo where you’re, bald in the middle of your head. Because of that, I had to cut my hair short so that the bald pate would fit over my hair. I looked like something out of the 40’s. All I needed was a Studebaker.
That’s why I’d been visiting Mr. Almundson. While he wasn’t a friar, he was old. And he had a goregeous granddaughter Sarah who often visited him while we worked on my walk and voice.
Costumes had finally finished my robes. The best way to look like you belong in a costume is to wear it until you feel comfortable. I’d been wearing a graduation gown, but it didn’t have the weight of the heavy monks cloth that Dr. Koenig’s students had used in the final costume.
Sarah kissed her grandfather lightly and said, “Now, you have a good nap. I’ll see that Bob sets out ok. You want some coffee, Friar?”
That was our running joke. She kept threatening to seduce me and make give up my vow of chastity. I wasn’t exactly a virgin, but I’d been chaste for a lone time now, except for my hand. I wonder if that counted? I can see the old Friar getting off in imagining Romeo and Juliet in her bed on the balcony.
“Sure, I’ll have some coffee.” We had a couple of steps to go up from the sun porch. Winter was more than threatening. Sarah had apparently been out running because she was wearing a stunning outfit of white fleece with a V-neck and a shirt under that. The cuffs, waistline and neck had a double black line around them. I liked Sarah. She could joke with me and make me feel comfortable. Too bad in a few weeks the play would be over.
Sarah had that kind of questioning face. Even in repose the eyebrows arched up in a perpetual question. I wish I knew the answer. I watched her hips sway as we went up the stairs. I grabbed my long skit as I’d seen it done in a medieval drawing and lifted it just the right amount. I practiced not looking down at my feet because were a lot of steps on the set. Designers like to use levels and directors too.
Sarah grabbed my arm as we came into the kitchen. “You’ve made grandpa very happy… made him feel wanted. Thank you. she kissed me on the cheek. I turned my face and our lips met. Brushed actually. Then she broke away to find Mr.
Coffee and pour for us both.
“Don’t you get cold under that thing? Did the monks wear long johns or what You must freeze your jewels.”
“I have my jeans in my backpack. I’ll put them on when I walk back to campus.”
“So what are you wearing underneath?”
Sarah came towards me, grabbed my rope belt and pulled me towards her. She kissed my lips fully then, her tongue poking against mine. The steaming coffee on the table caught my eye. I guess it gave me ideas.
I broke away. “Hey, careful. Grandpa will hear.”
“Nope, he drops off to sleep like a rock. And you haven’t answered my question.”
Her hands were on my rope belt, the thumbs down and pressing forward. Her left thumb touched my cock which was already responding to the situation.
“Just my Jockeys.”
“You don’t look like you have hairy legs. I mean from what I can see down the front there.” She pushed a hand down my neck and touched my pecs. That really. made the blood shoot into my dick then. I have a kind of a thick one. Thick fingers too. Sarah played with first one nipple than the other, while her thumb just touched my cock.
“Look… we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not. You a virgin or something.”
“Nothing so drastic.”
“You don’t like me?” She let go of my rope belt and stepped back while she pulled the fleece top off. The knit shirt underneath was tight, unlike the sweats. Her fits stuck up and out. The way the jiggled I bet she wasn’t wearing a bra. I licked my lips and started to move toward the table and the coffee.
Not that I wasn’t stimulated enough already.
She blocked my way. “I felt your chest, time for you to feel mine.”
Wow, was she aggressive. And I guess, with a shy guy like me, you need somebody who takes charge. She took charge of my hand and pressed it against her right. tit. It was so nice and firm. I stroked it for a few seconds and then went looking for the nipple. I found it and circled a couple of times.
“No fair. I touched you and you’re only giving me a second hand grope.” She tossed her dark brown hair in irritation.
“I can fix that.” I found the hem of her shirt and pulled it up. Such creamy white skin… without a blemish. I had the shirt up to where I could see her fits; No bra like I guessed. She helped me pull the shirt over her head. She stood there, like a wood nymph at her bath, chest bare, the rosy nipples glowing in the afternoon sun.
“You like these?” She lifted them up as if they were offerings of some kind. I leaned forward and lightly kissed first one nipple then the other. She shivered.
“Cold?”
“No… hot. My pussy’s running already. Let’s do something down and dirty.”
“I’m only a poor innocent Friar.”
“Poor? Maybe. Innocent? I hope not. But I’ll play the game.” She untied the rope, letting it fall to the floor on my thongs.
Then she hunted for the way in.
“Concealed zipper in the back.”
“Good, I get to see your buns then.”
I turned. She unzipped. The whole dark brown costume fell to the floor. My “buns” as she called them were tight in my Jockeys. She ran her hands over them, squeezing lightly. My dick was doing a dance in the front.
Then Sarah grabbed me by the hips and knelt on the floor, turning me to the right. I rotated until my crotch was practically in her face. I looked down. My shorts were really poked out by then with my thick meat which was trying to escape, but the leg bands and the fly wouldn’t open. So it pushed out in a thick lump, the head obvious to the left of the fly opening.
“Nice.” She leaned forward and kissed my tip through the cloth. Her fingers were in the edge of the waistband, ready to pull them down. I stepped back and one of her glued on finger nails snapped off..
“Shit,” she said in a very un-lady like way and chewed on the end broken end.
“Sorry.” I touched her hair.
“Why did you stop me?”
“I’m ahead of you. You’ve still got your running pants on.”
“Is that all?” She pouted, chewing on her nail. Then she stood and pushed her sweats down. She was wearing black panties under them, but I could see patches of light skin through their sheerness… and the shadow of her bush.
She kicked off her high-tops and we both stood there, nearly naked taking each other in. She was a gorgeous gal. The kiss on my cock tip had started my balls a boiling.
We both stepped forward to get a feel of the other… our hands passed. Hers found my nuts right away. With gentle pressure she massaged them.
I found her mound, flattened my palm against it, my middle finger pushing what I hoped would be her hole and my thumb searching for that little nub girls have.
We played with each other for a little bit, then stepped closer, so that our chests met. Her fits flattened against my body. I could feel the nipples poking my rib cage since she was a little shorter than me.
We both got the idea at the same time. She moved her hands up to my waistband and I moved mine into a similar position. Our eyes were looking down, for the first sight on the other’s sex.
She gasped when my cock came into view. As I said, it’s kind of fat. The head especially. If it were a mushroom, you’d stuff it and eat it for supper. I hope she’d feel the same.
When I pushed her panties out of the way, it was my turn to gasp. She had the most luscious looking muff. Not so thick that you couldn’t see anything and not so thin you thought she was a little girl. I could see the slit and a hint of pink where it had parted a little bit.
“Wow, what a mushroom. Got a lot of mushroom sauce in it?”
“I’ve been a monk for six weeks.”
“Can I nibble it?”
I lifted my cock up, the big mushroom pointing toward her lips. Once again she was on her knees, her mouth open. This time she kissed the head but not through my shorts. Her lips folded around the tip and began a toothless munch on my whole crown and the soft part under it. Sarah’s tongue whirled and so did my head she gave good head. I put my hands on my butt and leaned forward to get the best effect.
Once she’d had enough of tasting the top, she came off and began to lick down toward my nuts. The fur on them began to tingle in anticipation of her tongue.
Sara’s palm came under my left ball and lifted it as her mouth closed around it. My eyes went blank for a second. All I could do was feel those warm lips massaging my sex egg. Then she went for the other one. I was breathing kind of heavily then.
Without saying a word, she stood, pushed on my crew cut. I sank into the worshiping position now. Her box was right in front of my face. I touched my nose to the top of the slit and drew a slow line down the opening, smelling her need as I went lower and lower. My hands were going up and down her smooth legs to her crotch. When I reached bottom for about the third time, I poked my tongue out and tilted my head up. Sarah was playing with her fits, massaging them and touching the nipples with her fingers. I saw her stomach muscles flex too. My tongue touched that secret, hooded spot at the top and wedged in.
She must have been on hair trigger, because the first touch sent her body into spasms. I poked and licked around the little most nub and felt it tremble and shudder at the same time.
“Wow, I’ve never cum off that quick before, Friar.”
I looked up, my face smeared with her juices. “You up for a fuck?”
“You look like you’re up.” She pulled me up by my arms… our bodies touched again, my cock crushing against her belly. My balls brushed the bottom of her pussy.
I backed her up until we were against the edge of the table. She reached behind and moved the coffee cups to the side and bent back over the table until she was kind of sitting on it… legs on the floor, pussy spread and her back on the table.
I steadied myself while I lifted her legs slightly to get a better angle. Her ass came up so I could see into the moist folds of her pussy.
I put her legs over my shoulders and edged forward, holding my dripping cock to make contact. Oooh. Did that ever feel good as her pussy folded around my head flare.
“Don’t push yet. Let me get used to it.”
I obliged. Then she wiggled her hips as a pushed forward. My dick went into her inch by inch allowing me to feel the cunt walls closing around me. What heaven.
Then we began the actual fucking. We’d been teasing each other for so long that I had to build up things so I could get off. She helped a lot too, by tightening her cunt muscles around my dick. They caught against my cock rim and prevented me from dropping out.
Back and forth we went. I could smell the coffee faintly, but her pussy odor and my sweat was ever more powerful.
She went, “Ahhh… ahhhh… ahhh,” with each stroke. I tightened my belly and really dug in then. The fire was growing at my tip… faster and faster. Her back must have been wet because if squeaked on the table. Her hair had fallen off the edge and was flopping from side to side. I looked at her face… it was pure angel.
Tighter and faster.
The explosion began in my nuts, traveled like a explosion up my tube and shooting out the end, spraying the walls of her cunt with my juices. Shot after thick shot rocketed up into her. She began to tremble too so I knew she was getting off again. One last jam forward. I stayed still, feeling the pressure of her legs on my shoulders. That was it.
I pulled out, found my shorts and wiped myself clean. She zipped my robe up. I watched her climb back into her clothes.
We were still talking when Mr. Crocket came down from his nap.
“Nice to see you two together. Did you have a good time while I napped?”
“Just fine, Grandpa.”
“I better get going. I have a 4 o’clock.”