Backstage in the dark

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This is one of those inexplicable encounters that I took part in, without quite knowing why. Fortunately, though, not a frequent event. Although it developed over several days, I’ve tried to keep it short, but with as much detail that I can remember. To this day, I have no idea why I felt compelled to respond in the way that I did, no longer a virgin, but still a naïve 19 year old, perhaps it was part of my sexual discovery and development.

Speaking from my experience, there is nothing so carnal as a recent virgin, and I was eager and hungry to explore the experiences whenever they presented themselves. I’d had some sex at university, enjoyable, but not wildly excessive. I thought I was experienced and knowledgeable, however I was, and still am, very curious to try new things. So, I’m unable to explain my reaction, but I did what I did, and that’s pretty much all I can say about it.

Home for the Easter holidays, I was in my second year at university, and I had with been helping my mother at the local hall, preparing props for the local amateur dramatic society, who were putting on a show for the late summer season.

Deciding to wear comfortable clothes, I had on a dark brown corduroy skirt, a cream ‘V’ necked pullover, cream nylon slip, and plan white cotton panties. I wore tan tights, as they were much more comfortable to move around in, when I was bending and stretching over the baskets. As I was not in any formal environment, I didn’t put my hair up, but brushed it through, until it was straight, long, golden blonde, heavy and with a good healthy shine, and it fell across my shoulders and down my back almost to my waist.

My task was to go backstage and find items for the play in the prop’s baskets. I had a list to work with, and needed to find the actual items, or things that could be adapted in the event that the original bits couldn’t be found.

I walked up the steps at the side of the stage, and then across to the opposite side before entering through the heavy curtain. There were several men working in the orchestra pit, and I noticed it went quiet as I passed by in front and above them, there were a number of sighs, and sharply drawn breaths, I could almost imagine the click of their eyeballs as they looked up. Glancing down at the upturned faces, I smiled innocently at them, giving a little wave with my fingers.

As I was sorting through the props, I thought I heard a noise behind me. Turning, I looked into the shadows of the stage sets, but I couldn’t see anyone. I quietly called out.

“Hello, is there someone there?”

There wasn’t any answer, so after pausing for a minute, I returned to sorting through the basket of props. I heard footsteps coming across the stage towards where I was working, and my mum stuck her head around the corner. I wondered if the men in the pit had looked up her skirt as well when she came up onto the stage, after all she is stunningly attractive women, and I noted, dressed for the part.

“Are you finished yet? It’s time we went home.”

“Yes, for the moment, but I still have quite a bit to go through.”

“You can do that tomorrow, come on, let’s go.”

I looked behind me, again, sensing that there was somebody there, but again, I couldn’t see anyone. As we left the hall and walked across the carpark to my car, mum looked at me quizzically and asked.

“Is everything all right Miche? You look a bit uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s fine, there was just a moment there before you came that I thought I was being watched.”

“It’s a creepy old place, especially backstage, it has a bit of an atmosphere, mainly because of all the scenery and stage work, it can excite the imagination sometimes.”

The following afternoon, wearing similar clothes, apart from the skirt which was blue wool, we returned to the hall, and I climbed the steps onto the stage, enjoying the attention and becoming aware that the numbers of men there had increased a bit. Walking back to the small area behind the scenery with my list I began my search. Again, I thought I heard movement behind me in between some of the big pieces of backdrops. This time, I went to look, but although I was apprehensive, I steeled myself and went back deep into the shadows.

Finding nobody, I turned to go back to my work area, relaxing, but still with the feeling that I wasn’t alone. Suddenly my shoulders were gripped, and I was pushed forward in between the big canvas frames. A hand clasped the back of my neck and forced my head forwards. I tensed, with a mild feeling of fear rising in my stomach. A man’s voice whispered close to my ear.

“Be quiet, and everything will be alright.”

The hand gripped my neck hard, numbing me, but silencing me, I was too shocked to say anything. The man pushed himself up against me and placed his hands on my waist. Moving his fingers up under my pullover, he stroked the skin on my flanks, sensuously moving his palms to the crests of my hips, then over the round flesh of my belly. His hands moved up the front of my body, until they reached my breasts, he paused and seemed surprised Bahçelievler escort at how small they were, taking a sharp intake of breath as his fingers flipped my cotton bra up, and he closed his fingertips on them.

“How old are you girl?”

His voice, quiet, but gruff with a deep timbre.

“Nearly 20.”

“When is your birthday?”

“July.”

Hmm, old enough now then, but you still feel very small to me.”

“I am, it runs in the family.”

“Oh, I see. Yes, I saw your mother isn’t very big there either, but she’s got more than you have. In either case it’s not what I expect for girls with Scandinavian heritage.”

“Do you know us then, and how old are you anyway?”

“Oh, I know you, don’t worry about that, and I’m nearly 50, now shut up, stop chattering, let me concentrate.”

He continued to massage what passes for my breasts, pressing himself hard against the tense muscles of my behind, sighing as he felt my breasts harden under his touch, as he placed his index and middle fingers around each of my increasingly erect and extending nipples, he pushed his face into my hair, drawing long breaths as he smelled me, all talcum powder and shampoo.

“You’ve got really small tits girl, small but firm.”

“I’m sorry, it’s all I have.”

I don’t quite understand why I apologised, as he was feeling my body without any real agreement from me, though without any resistance either. In a strange way, it was exciting, perhaps because of the unexpectedness of the attention. Or maybe it was the forbidden nature of what he was doing to me, after all, I was only 19, and still lacking in knowledge as to the appetites of men, but having an abundance of those raging hormones that made me sexually curious. He ran his hands down my tummy, feeling the tense muscles there, as he pressed his hips hard into me. My buttocks spread, and I felt how hard he was as the cheeks of my bottom parted in response to the pressure he placed on me there. His lips so close to my ear, he whispered softly.

“I’ll be seeing you again tomorrow, girl.”

Then in a swift movement, he pulled away from me, and was gone back into the shadows, leaving me stunned by the suddenness of it all. I’ll never understand why I didn’t scream, or try to hit him, but I didn’t, I just acquiesced and let him feel me under my pullover.

Feeling confused, I couldn’t think to do anything other than occupy myself sorting through the baskets. I reached under my pullover and pulled my bra back over my breasts, seating them comfortably in the cups. After about ten minutes, mum came up onto the stage, and stepped into the store area next to me.

“Time to go Miche, have you got much left to go through?”

“I’m about halfway through these baskets, and I’ve found quite a few things on the list.”

“That sounds good, the wardrobe director will be pleased, she’s anxious to put on a good show.”

“I just need a bit more time, I’m sure I can find most of what she wants.”

“What you can’t find, will have to be sourced elsewhere, or made to order. We’ll be here a little later tomorrow, I’ve got to run an antenatal clinic after lunch for a few expectant mums, but it means we can stay later, and you’ll have more time to go through things.”

My instinct was to tell her what had happened, but again, and I don’t understand why, I said nothing, though feeling curious and a little excited about what might happen the next afternoon. As we drove home, mum looked at me, with a slightly concerned expression on her face.

“Are you alright Miche, you’re very quiet?”

“Yes mum, I’m fine, I’m just thinking about my coursework and how much there is to finish before I go back to uni.”

“You’ll get it done in time, and with ease, our part in the preparation of the play will be over in plenty of time before you go back.”

The following afternoon arrived, and we went to the hall, where once again I excited the growing congregation of men, most of whom were older and more mature. Following the usual sighs and looks from the men in front of the stage, I went back into the storage area to carry on with my search. Feeling a little nervous, yet with a hollow thrill inside me, I anticipated the approaching experience. Without consciously thinking about it, that morning I had dressed a little more expensively than I had on my first two days. Wearing good quality bikini brief style white cotton panties, matching bra, lace trimmed nylon slip, good quality 10 denier energising sheer opaline coloured tights, again with a white ‘V’ neck top, and a heavier navy pleated skirt.

There was a low vaulting horse at the back of the area, close to the back wall, I took one of the baskets to it, and as it was quite low, I used the top as a sorting table for the small items. I suppose nearly half an hour passed, before I heard movement behind me as he came close to where I was standing. I tried to turn around to see him, but he moved quickly behind me. He pushed me over until my tummy was firmly against the top of the equipment. His forearm on my back, he forced Balgat escort me down and forwards onto the leather padding of the vaulting horse, my bottom pushed back, and I felt his stiffness as he pushed his crotch into my buttocks.

Lifting my skirt hem, he whispered to himself, almost inaudibly.

“Mmm, at last, lovely, it looks just lovely. So smooth, such a round curvy shape, lovely, lovely.”

He made me so anxious that I froze, he stopped and stared through the seat of my tights at my cotton knickers, his hand went down to my thighs, and before I knew what was happening, he was running them over my bottom, his breathing, fast and excited, he pushed my thighs wide apart, leaving me conscious that even though I had on tights and knickers, I was quite exposed. Feeling the warmth and slight trembling in his hands, as they slipped up my skirt from behind, I tensed, wondering what was coming next.

“It’s alright girl, just relax and enjoy it, I’m not going to hurt you.”

He had a soft gentle touch as he slowly, almost inexorably stroked the inside of my thigh, and his fingers cupped my peach through the soft gusset of my panties. Pressing his palm firmly over my nylon and cotton clad vulva, his middle finger stroking upwards towards my clitoris as it strained like a small protruding button against the double cotton of the crotch of my knickers. Slowly, and deliberately he pushed his fingertips past my stiff little bean, his hand passing between my legs, covering my genitalia. He gripped my mount of Venus, massaging it gently while rubbing his thumb over my perineum. I was surprised that despite the outrageousness of the situation, I enjoyed the sensual feeling as he squeezed and caressed my most feminine of parts.

I couldn’t help myself, and softly moaned as the sensations, seemingly unwanted, but reluctantly enjoyable.

“Oooohh, ooooh, oh!”

“Like that don’t you girly? You want more don’t you?”

“No, no, I’m not sure, but I don’t think you should be doing this to me, perhaps we should stop, or at least slow down.”

It didn’t convince him, I didn’t even convince myself, there was no fear in my voice, if anything there was a noticeable tone of excitement.

“Come on Michelle, you love it, you really want this and more, I know you do, you’ve wanted this for a long time.”

I was surprised that he used my name, but then he’d already indicated that he knew both my mother and I, so I shouldn’t have been. Admittedly, what he was doing demonstrated that he had a good knowledge of a girl’s body, and from his sighs and soft moans, he was enjoying doing it to me. He brushed my hair to one side and briefly kissed my cheek, his brow covered in sweat. His lips and tongue moved down the side of my neck, to my shoulder. I tried to turn and catch sight of him, but he laughed, and firmly pushed me forward onto the leather again.

“Not yet girl, not yet, soon, but not yet.”

All I saw, was a brief glimpse of his forehead and his left eye. His skin was fair, with a faint blush of pink, his eyes, light blue. I saw that he had light brown hair, greying slightly.

He gave a long deep sigh, and I heard the rasping sound of his fingers against the nylon of my upper tights as he stroked the thicker webbing there. Enjoying the feeling of them stretching against my skin as he stroked his hands down and away from my gusset and over the inside of my legs, down to my inner knees. Clearly, he relished the feel of the strong muscles at the back of my thighs, he spent some considerable time, caressing them, massaging as he was pressing his thumbs inside my thighs, and his fingers around the taut outside of my muscles, he began running his hands up and down from behind my knees, up to my bottom and back, sighing all the time. His breath, warm, but fresh, I felt myself beginning to tingle in excitement.

Holding me against the wooden side of the vaulting horse, he bent down and pressed his face under my hems, between my buttocks and into my crotch, taking deep breaths, savouring the aroma of warm cotton, nylon, soap, and my natural feminine scent. He kissed the inside top of my thighs, through the tightly fitting fabric, gently biting the soft yielding flesh there. As he drew back, he moaned deeply as the hem of my slip, fell over his upturned face, light, and soft, tickling and stimulating his skin as he pulled away.

He leaned forwards over me again, and whispered into my ear, sounding intense and full of desire.

“Stay still now, that’s enough for today, I’ll be seeing you again tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be here, I’ve almost finished what I’m doing.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it for you.”

“I don’t understand what you think you’re going to do to me.”

“You know, don’t try to deny it, I’m going to do what you want me to do, and from your reactions, I know you can hardly wait. Just be sure you wear white knickers again, white, only white, and tights. Understand? Got it?”

I nodded in agreement, but wondered why, I thought he would have enjoyed black with stockings Batıkent escort and suspenders, but no, it seemed that white was what he wanted.

With that, he was gone, moving quickly out of sight, once more before I could see who he was.

I stood still for few moments, bewildered by what he’d said, but stunned by the realisation that he’d been right. I rearranged my clothes, making sure they dropped neatly down over my body. Reluctantly I carried on with my task, after about another half hour, I finished the list, and collected the items into a tote box, ready for the head of wardrobe and props to inspect. Leaving with mum, I drove us both home, she chatted away, she’d been making good progress assisting with the script and run throughs.

“How are you doing with your searches?”

“I finished the list just before I came to find you, I handed the tote box over to the props organiser.”

“That’s good, if we start around the same time tomorrow, we can stay later, I’m sure they’ll find something else you can help them with.”

Arriving home, after we had some tea, and toast, I went to my room, and undressed slowly, down to my bra, tights and knickers. Standing in front of my bedroom mirror, I looked at my body, petite, lithe, smoothly shaped, my limbs flowed in beautiful curves, combining with the shape of my chest and bottom. I turned on my toes, moving my hips from side to side, admiring the swell my mound as it blended into the cleft of my pubis, admiring round plumpness of my bottom, the strong tensile shape of my thighs and calves. I have strong shapely legs, I run and walk a lot, as well as taking several sessions a week in the gym, keeping myself at a good level of fitness.

Turning and bending forwards, I looked back at my behind in the full-length mirror and saw what he’d seen. A firm rounded pair of buttock cheeks, the white cotton panties covered by the light coloured tights, the seam of the upper body, the weaving slightly darker than the legs, and running down between the centre of my bum. The stitching separating into the gusset going over either side of my peach, accentuating the ripeness of me there. I closed my eyes as I slowly moved my hands up to cover my breasts, feeling the small but tight neatness of them, and the exquisite tingle as my fingers flicked over my springy nipples. My thoughts recalled how it felt backstage when the man had fondled them. Although it had surprised me, despite my being completely unprepared, I’d actually quite liked it.

I arched my back as my fingers went down to the plump pad of flesh over my symphysis pubis, framed in the front of my panties, as I tried to recreate the sensation he had given me earlier that evening, as his hands had probed and explored my groin, searching for my sensitive secret places. I immersed myself in the memories of his hands, firm but gentle as he’d stroked my legs through my tights, and the gentle but highly charged eroticism as he buried his face in my underwear, absorbing the mixture of scents there. It was wrong, very wrong, but my god it was incredible, and I’d loved every moment of it. Strangely, I was no longer nervous about his approaches to me, and found myself quite looking forward to the next afternoon.

The following morning, after my parents had left for work, I got up, showered and went through my morning routine, applying only a light spray of anti-perspirant, before I went to the kitchen, wearing a towelling bathrobe and took a light, high energy breakfast. On returning to my room, I began to get dressed ready for the afternoons work at the hall, as soon as mum came home from the surgery.

My mind turned to whether I’d actually encounter the man again, and thoughtfully I dressed in preparedness for him. I applied a light body moisturiser, and remembering what he’d asked, selected a pair of expensive white cotton panties, they were by Hanro’s from the Moments collection. Good quality midi briefs, heavy but soft mercerized cotton, plain at the front with a soft double gusset and finished with a stunning French lace trim, the entire rear panel was lace, they were snug on my hips and over my bottom, with just that little bit of a more luxurious feel. Putting on the matching soft cup (32A) bra from the the set, I sprinkled a little baby talc in the cups, before fastening the strap behind my shoulders, and admired the effect in my mirror.

Satisfied with my appearance, I took out the tights from my ‘specials’ drawer that I thought would best suit the style I wanted to display. I had recently bought several pairs at a department store in the city, and they were still in the packet. They felt soft and sensuous in my fingers, as I took them out of the wrapper. By Oroblu, they were shock up elastane shaped tights, I chose the flesh-coloured ones, which had the extra luxury of a soft cotton lined gusset.

Rolling them into a convenient bundle, and putting my toes into the feet, I rolled them up my legs, stretching them on, and feeling the light stretchy material form itself onto the skin of my legs. Pulling the waist up over my bum, I wiggled my knees to make sure the filmy material fitted over my thighs, and they seated into my groin and fitting tightly over my hips. Looking over my shoulders I turned my hips from side to side again, checking that the fit was good, no wrinkles, or lumps in the material.

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