Busy or Tired

Basically, you can take your pick of excuses.  Here are the two I'm trying out on myself.

1. "I've been really busy and just haven't had the time for anything."
2. "I've just been so tired after I finish what I have to do that I don't have the energy.

In truth, a bit of column A, a bit of column B.  I have been pretty busy, but not so busy that I have no time, but the times when I'm not busy, I'm really not up for anything.  Hence, the filler and the lack of anything resembling anything interesting.

But I'm going to be interesting today, because I've got a story to tell.  As you know, Kate is in the play I'm currently working on, which means that I get to see her a lot, just not the way I want to.  I think we all know the way I want to see her.  The last play I did that she was in, I got to see her that way, and was it enjoyable.

Even though we don't have any time during the show, none at all really, I have plenty of time to sit there and think thoughts, which is kind of annoying because I know I can't do anything.  So I sit and I think and I think and I sit and I hope that maybe we can work it out so that we can meet up afterward, but that never seems to happen.  At least, until Thursday.

Thursday, her car breaks down.  We were getting out late anyway, and we're the only people there, and she heads to her car after giving me a surreptitious peck on the cheek and a grope of the ass, which needless to say was keying me up for the trip home, let me tell you.  Tease.  I head to my car too, wondering if I should just find a dark spot and quickly relieve the tension in my nethers, and I'm just about to drive off when she comes running over waving her arms yelling, "Stop, stop, please!"

I won't deny that, for a moment, my brain hit full romantic-movie mode and I felt like the soldier going off to war on the train with his girl running after him.  But that was a moment of weakness.  During which I wet my panties a little bit, but still, a moment.  I don't really want Kate to be running after me anyway.  She's nice, but Sveta's much more the casting choice I'd make for my girl back home.  Plus, I'm not going off to war even if they drag me.  Kicking and screaming isn't even beginning to cover what I'll do.

Sidetrack aside, Kate's car had broken down.  I know fuck all about cars, but we both went over and peered at the engine, then she tried to start it and couldn't, then she pulled out her phone to call Roger.  I stopped her and said, "I'll give you a ride home."  No, I did not emphasize any of the words more than others.  Not at all.  I might have thought one of them really hard, but I didn't say it.

"You're such a doll," she said to me, and then she kissed me, and if we weren't going to get naked in the parking lot right then and there, a suitable alternative had to be found and quickly, because I was keyed up about as high as I go without exploding.  My sex drive is decidedly not dead, it was just resting, or perhaps I wasn't feeding it properly.

I considered the car for a moment and rejected it.  Why fuck in the car when there's a perfectly good empty theater building to which you have the keys?  Why indeed.  "Come on, I'll take you home in a bit," I said.  I didn't have to suggest anything; she was right there with me.

We made it through the door, and honestly if the entire cast and crew had been there we wouldn't have tried to hide anything.  We were kissing fiercely at this point and her hands were up my shirt on my breasts and mine were around behind her cupping her ass and things just proceeded from there.  Right inside the door is not a good place, but somehow we managed to stay clothed until we were on a couch, then she practically ripped my pants off, panties along with, and dove into my snatch like a starving woman at a banquet.

"I've been wanting this for days," she said when she came up for air for a moment.  "Roger's usually asleep when I get home."

I commiserated while hinting that I was so close it wasn't funny, and eventually she got back down there and finished me off.  I won't lie, it wasn't the greatest orgasm by a long stretch, but I still screamed.  All the tension of the evening just flowed out of me.  I couldn't very well say that I was usually stuck giving myself a hand because Dad was asleep, but we were two women in need for roughly the same reason.

She rolled off the couch onto the floor and pulled off her shorts and panties in the same rush she'd pulled off my bottoms, then spread her legs, her tight pink pussy calling to me like tight pink pussies do.  I am unabashedly in love with the female form, and in the flesh it's so much better than on the screen.  Porn may be losing its excitement recently, but pussies aren't, and I started lapping at hers like a dog, then worked three fingers into her, one by one, which had her grunting like she was trying to pass a watermelon.  She's good at rough, frenzied fucking.  Tender, not so much.

Her cunt tasted of sweat and baby powder, which for some reason was really arousing, and by the time I brought her off, I needed another, so I got up before she could and squatted over her face.  It's not something I do all that often, but in this case I could look down at her face pressed up between my legs, her eyes darting up to look into mine every so often.  It felt... a little powerful I guess, but that wasn't it.  It just felt intense.  When she reached up and pressed a finger into my ass for the first time, that just added to the sensation.  Thank God I finished quickly, because squatting like that wasn't the most comfortable thing.

I moved over to sit beside her, her face glistening, a smile on her lips.  "We really should get going," she said after a moment.  She was right.  We gathered up panties and pants and shorts, reassembled ourselves as best we could, then she got her stuff from her car and I gave her a ride to her house.  She invited me in, although everyone else was asleep, and I went along with her wishes because I was kind of tired and being tired makes me suggestible.  I turned down her offer of a drink, but didn't turn down her offer to fuck on her couch.  That's actually just the way the offer was phrased too: "You wanna fuck on the couch some more?"

She tiptoed into her bedroom (at my insistence, despite her saying that Roger would be happy to wake up for me) and got her toys, and we spent another, slightly less hectic period of time bringing each other to orgasm a few more times.  After the first two, she definitely got better than she gave, but that was okay.  "I'm really glad this happened," she said.  "I could have just sat down on the ground and cried after the day I had."

"Me too."  Actually, it was somewhat muffled, but that's what I meant to say.

And then I refused an offer of a couch to sleep on, with the vague promises of morning sex to follow, and drove home, bra and panties in pocket.  We had hoped to be able to get together again over the weekend, but that didn't work out for various reasons.  Still, it was fun fucking in the theater again.  I missed it a little.  I wish it had been with someone else in a certain way, but in another way, I'm perfectly happy with it the way it was.