Max Rises to the Occasion We were in the scene design classroom, surrounded by renderings of scene designer’s past. I was new to water color renderings and just couldn’t wield the brush so it looked like anything, aside from a kid’s sketch done with finger paint. Very humiliating. I’m really an actor, but we’re required to be familiar with the technical areas, so we know how the other half lives.
Dr. Compton, Betty, was helping me out with the design for She Stoops To Conquer. And boy, she could have stooped to conquer me, I can tell you. She was the first woman PhD to teach scene design. Usually women were costumers like Fancy Jones. Jim Benson told me all about what happened. I hoped that when they fit my costume later this afternoon, we could get into a little action.
Betty and I were leaned over my floor plan for the Act II setting and she was pointing out problems to me. We’d agreed that while it wasn’t traditional, I could make a model. So I’d made the model, now it was time (shudder) to start painting the damned things.
I was bent over the drawing board, my black hair coming down over my face and Dr. Compton, Betty, standing behind me. We were both casually dressed. She in a pink sweater and worn jeans. Me in even more worn jeans and a dark green polo shirt. I was trying to.get a lemon yellow out of my water colors. The puddle kept looking like mustard.
I could smell her very close behind me. For the fitting later on, I’d worn a lemon yellow jock. She must have seen the waistband when I bent over, because she said, “The color of your shorts would be just fine? “They’re not shorts. It’s fancy underwear, a cross between a jock and a bikini.”
“How fascinating.”
“Yeah, well… let me try just a little more of… shit.” Mustard again.
“That’s mustard like you put on a hot dog not lemon, like you put in lemonade? “I know, I know. It’s just that… ”
“Let me show you? She grabbed my sable brush and squeezed my mustard out (oooh, what an image. My dick crawled a little in its pouch) and swished it through the clear water. Then with a flick and a twist she had my lemon.
“Let’s see if it matches.” She reached forward to the waist of my beltless jeans and pulled the front down. The narrow band of my shorts/jock widened or my stomach popped back. See, I have this fantasy about an older, experienced woman seducing me. You know. Girls your own age are so easy. But an older woman, one with experience, they’re the hard kind to meet and seduce.
My stomach was still fluttering. She lifted my knit shirt and painted a smiley face on my stomach. “Let it dry. It may not be quite the right shade.
I was shaking. Ole Maxamillian Chidester was fluttering faster than a leaf on an October tree. We both looked down onto my belly. She’d used my navel for the nose. If she’d made the circle bigger my nipples could have been the eyes.
She said, “It needs something.”
My dick was indecisive. After all, we were in a classroom, not the great out of doors or a bedroom. Betty ran her hand lightly over my stomach. I’ve got lots of dark hair on my head, but not much on my belly. You know, the arrow that points to satisfaction was missing. Her fingers were making my cock’s mind up about growing. It leaped to an erection, shoving up the center line of my underwear and almost poking it’s red nosed snoot over the edge. Then it did. I looked up. Betty was staring. Her tongue moved across her lips, wetting them so they more glossy than her lipstick.
“My, we do have a problem, don’t we.”
“Yes, we do. Once this thing gets up, it’s hard to make it go down.”
“Once it’s hard, I bet I can make it go down.”
She swished her brush again and dipped into the black. In a few deft strokes she’d painted a caricature of me on my dickhead. Dark hair, big nose (at least I think it’s big) and a smile that went across the crown.
“This is no fair.” I was still shuddering from the tickling point of the brush.
“Can you paint any better?”
“Maybe, if I had a surface.”
She lifted her pink sweater with one hand and unbuttoned the neck with the other. Christ. She wasn’t wearing a bra. What a beautiful sight. What gorgeous tits. My cock eye drooled it’s appreciation.
Her dark brown hair was done in a kind of bun, I suppose to avoid gettin hairs in the paint or on the renderings. stared at her tits. What a canvas. I swished my brush clean in the by now muddy water and dipped into the bright red. I painted strawberries on her tits nubs. It was her turn to shudder.
My cockhead face had dried by then. It wouldn’t take much to erase it. A wet tongue wiggling just right would do the job.
Betty said, “I don’t like that face.” She touched my dickhead. “But I do like this one.” She planted a kiss on the end of my nose, couldn’t miss it fortunately. My mouth opened and that pointy tongue of her swished like a brush across my teeth. I opened up; she began painting my tongue with intricate and sexy designs.
We turned our heads at just the right angle. I was careful not to touch her breasts. Didn’t want strawberries all over my shirt.
Boy, did she taste good. And she knew how to use her mouth and tongue to best effect.
She shoved a hand down the front of my shirt and rubbed my chest as we kissed.
My hands were massaging her ass, squeezing the soft denim and making circles. A new smell besides water colors and spit arrived on the scene. Her cunt was sizzling I could tell. Suddenly she stepped back. “Get your jeans and that lemon pouch out of the way. I want to see the full effect of my paint.”
I did a slow strip for her. I didn’t think about what would happen if some student in need of help would burst in on us and I didn’t care. My dick was about ready to burst and it was in control at the moment.
She watched. When I’m really hard my cock is like a… let’s see… bow.
Bowed backwards toward my body. It’s also like a tree trunk, with a kind of rough bark covering and lots of veins.
Betty gasped as I showed her what I had. Then she dipped into the black again and worked on my bark. Boy, I was on trigger. If she’d done something between my cock arches, I’da been a goner. I looked down. I guessed it was ok.
She made me lift my feet, stripping off my jeans and lemon yellows.
I looked up. Her sweater was gone, but the strawberries remained, the bright red tips finally drying.
She stripped for me without my asking.
She wasn’t wearing panties either and the lush fullness of her cunt patch came into view. She was all woman and hot too. She kicked her jeans away. We were both standing in nothing but our sneakers.
Betty put a finger to her chin, looking critically at my cock. I thought maybe she thought it was too ugly or something. “No, I don’t like it.”
My hard buddy began to wilt a bit.
“No, the outline’s all wrong. She knelt at my feet, brush poised. But instead of painting my cock, she opened her mouth and licked the end. I could feel the face disappearing. She opened again and placed her tongue on the “bark” she’d drawn. All the lines disappeared. She seemed to be fascinated with the veins and used her tongue point to trace the loops and whirls. Boy, she knew how to give a guy head. I watched her legs open and close in an unconscious movement and wished they were wrapped around me and my dick deep in her snatch.
My balls had stopped crawling. I was so hard they had nowhere to go. She kept sucking. I watched the strawberries jiggle on her chest.
Then she stood up handing me the brush. “Do what you want.”
I knelt and looked at my “canvas”, the cunt lips were parted a little and I could see the pink juiciness inside. I drew a black oval around the whole thing. She flinched. Then I drew rays radiating out, as if the cunt was a target or a bright sun. It was hot enough. My cheeks glowed from the radiation.
She grabbed the brush away from me, lifting me up and drew a circle around my cockhead and rays radiating from it.
“Do you think they’ll fit together?”
“I’m willing to try.” Our chests touched as I maneuvered my dick into striking position. Fucking standing up might be a little difficult, but I was willing to try. I felt a moisture across my chest as she wiggled from side to side. She was painting red hickey marks on my chest. I didn’t care. They’d wash off. Right now I wanted to fuck.
My cockhead touched the moist lips and parted them. I jammed upward and sank deep into her body. She moaned.
“Max, that’s the best work you’ve done all semester.”
My chest swelled and so did my dick. I pulled down and back until my tip was just inside her body, then up again.
She grabbed my shoulders to steady herself. I could feel the warmth and tightness of her pussy all along my cock. When I was all the way in again and wiggling around, she grabbed my head and began to kiss my eyes and eyebrows. I have eye brows like little pointed roofs. She licked along the gables to the center and down again. Then she was on my nose. That was hot.
Then we kissed, her left leg coming around my right one to draw us closer together. Our bellies mashed and my cock went way up inside her.
She swayed, her hips moving in circles and from side to side at the same time.
My cock followed since it was stuck in her. I could feel my dickhead getting harder. I closed my legs tight to wedge my dick in her and to prevent her from moving.
We ate face while I cooled down. My whole head was alive with sensation. My balls were cooling a little… the skin was a bit less tight when I began to fuck into her again.
My hands moved up and down her body from chest to hips. Then up to chest again and across. I pulled out as far as I could without loosing that wonder contact … my dickhead was just inside her lips. As I bent my head I heard her say, “Oh, yes.”
I ate strawberries. One at a time. Her nipples were as hard as unripe berries.
I sucked the paint off the left one. Then destroyed my portrait on the right.
She was moaning now, her pussy wiggling across my cock, trying to get more of me inside her. Finally I had her tits wiped clean and could begin to fuck again.
We fucked up a storm. I dug deep at the same time as I squeezed her tits between my fingers. She closed her eyes. I closed mine.
We began a movement together. And was she good. Her experience had taught her how to take a man to the edge, pause and bring him back down again.
It was like riding a roller coaster. Up to the top of the orgasmic hill, a thrilling ride down, but not quite the big one yet.
We went up and up and up and then poised at the edge. I jammed into as far as I could, scraping something. She began to whimper… little, quick ones. Her cunt pulled on my dick. We were almost… there. Then we were there.
My nuts were teetering on the edge and then they were pumping. God my stuff felt like molten lead as it shot out of the end of my dick. If she’d had a fire in her belly, I have blasted it out with a heavy cream to suffocate any flame.
She moaned and kissed my face, bit my tongue and sucked it deep in her mouth. I could feel my dick still spasming.
Then we were done. God were we done. The bell for class change rang in the hall.
We scrambled for our clothes. Good thing too. My buddy Mercutio popped his head into the door. “Hey, Romeo, Nancy’s waiting for you. I think yellow’s her favorite color.”
It was too. But she was an amateur scene painter compared to Betty. My set won the prize for most original design. It looks like they’ll use it for the show too. Who says an actor can’t learn new tricks?
