Play Dirty (11 page)

If this worked, maybe it wouldn’t be goodbye. Maybe it would be the kindling to something small and beautiful. Kismet brought him to her classroom. She couldn’t pass that up. So she took a deep breath and read through her lines.

He took me by the wrist and held me hard;

Then goes he to the length of all his arm;

And, with his other hand thus o’er his brow,

He falls to such perusal of my face

As he would draw it. Long stay’d he so;

At last, a little shaking of mine arm

And thrice his head thus waving up and down,

He raised a sigh so piteous and profound

As it did seem to shatter all his bulk

And end his being: that done, he lets me go:

And, with his head over his shoulder turn’d,

He seem’d to find his way without his eyes;

For out o’ doors he went without their helps,

And, to the last, bended their light on me.

Matthew was her Hamlet, she his Ophelia.

Shakespeare wrote some of the most sensual poetry ever written. He knew the lust of a man and a woman entwined through passion. This monologue was written four hundred years ago for them, for her sweet Matthew and their love in the middle of New York City. Ophelia’s words needed to be a part of her, the memories of Hamlet in the dark to be her memories of Matthew in the lamplight.

Lynn was immediately flooded with the smells of the subway, the vanilla-scented candles in his apartment, the heady atmosphere of the theater mixed with Matthew’s cologne. She could feel the softness of his sheets and the roughness of his hands against her bare skin. His fingertips trailing a whisper-soft path down her stomach. Muscles bulging under her touch. Passionate kisses growing desperate. His cock growing beneath her hand.

He took me by the wrist and held me hard;

Pressing her against the bricked walls, lavishing his tongue against her lips, her neck, claiming the inside of her mouth. Bending her over the rooftop railing. Her hands grasping for his belt buckle.

Then goes he to the length of all his arm;

He pushed her away, but she knew he didn’t want to resist. Lynn knew he was craving her as much as she craved him, wanted to taste the forbidden fruit of their lust and drink from it like a man dying of thirst at a fountain of cool water.

And, with his other hand thus o’er his brow,

He falls to such perusal of my face

As he would draw it.

Enclosed in the dark and tiny space of the Escape Room, threatening to pleasure her in front of the entire room, all those eyes and watchful cameras. Exposing her pink fruit to the world as he licked her into oblivion. Feeling his hardness wrapped in denim, pleading and begging for her to set him free.

His lips against her collarbone. Withdrawing her sensitive breasts in the public eye on the subway, stealing her breath. The warmth of his mouth on her nipples, pulling gasps from her lips. Owning the hard wanting tumbling from her wetness. His engorged cock pressing through the thin fabric of her summer dress, teasing her with carnal promise.

Throwing her over his shoulder and pinning her under his strong shoulders in the dark, quiet spaces of his room. The smoothness of his cock under her hungry tongue. The knot of passion welling within her.

As he would draw it. Long stay’d he so;

Lynn found herself panting, fingers dragging across her chest. She unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her firm breasts nestled in lace. He had looked so voracious when she revealed herself to him for the first time. His thrumming need shot through her fiercely, and the simple memory of it replicated the feelings almost tenfold.

If she stood before him like this, bare and exposed, tucked in lace and smelling of sex, would his face have the same desire carved into the handsome cheeks? Would his eyes devour her with the same covetous want, or would he be even more desperate?

A single hand unclasped her bra and sent her breasts bouncing free. She ran her hands over her erect nipples and moaned, rolling her head from side to side.

At last, a little shaking of mine arm

And thrice his head thus waving up and down...

Each flick of her fingers mimicked the motion of his tongue as he had tasted her for the first time. She slid to the floor before her mirror and hiked up her skirt, revealing the wet pinkness beneath. Heat welled through her. Matthew worshipped her cunt the way a sinner worships the cross. She slipped a finger across the outside her of lips and pressed herself into the wall.

Her touch wasn’t as powerful as his, but she needed only close her eyes, and she was back on those sheets, legs spread-eagle, feeling his lips trail up and down her thighs, teasing her center with all the dedication of a man obsessed. She grazed across herself again and let a small moan leave her lips.

The pleasure was delicious. She slipped another finger deeper through her folds and cried out a little louder. Her fingers became soaked with a rush of want for her Hamlet, her Romeo, her teacher. She returned to her breasts, pressing her cheek against the cool wall. Remembering.

He raised a sigh so piteous and profound

As it did seem to shatter all his bulk

And end his being:...

The pain of withholding had been obvious as he had tried to pleasure her endlessly without allowing himself the gift of release. His expression had been almost childlike in the dim light as she took his entire length in her mouth. His cock was huge, the likes of which she’d never imagined a man could be blessed with. She remembered it being better than she could have hoped, just as powerful and delicious as the rest of him.

Lynn would suck his cock all night if he would let her. She wanted to pleasure him endlessly, relishing the taste and smoothness of him in her mouth. She was told giving head would be an unpleasant experience, but she craved it as much as she craved his head between her legs, his curls teasing her thighs. There was immense power in delivering such ecstasy to someone, especially someone as sexy, mature, and experienced as Matthew.

Watching him become slowly unwound between her lips had her rocking her hips against the carpeted floor, moaning as she pleasured herself while sucking him to euphoria. Lynn opened her eyes to watch her pussy grind against the carpet in her room.

That night, he had thrust his pulsing cock into her mouth, forcing her to drink every drop of his orgasm. She drank greedily, loving his taste, and licked every drop from his sensitive head while fucking him with her eyes. He looked like he was going to come again just from watching her, his mouth curved into an
O
, his body tense and shaking under her.

The same knot grew within her as the rough carpet parted her lips and abused her clit. She cried out as loud as her body allowed, shoving herself against the wall for support, and slipped two fingers between her lips, stroking her clit to frenzy.

Lynn couldn’t let herself go, not yet, not when Ophelia still had more and the wave of memories from that night cascaded over her. She moaned through her next line, barely able to speak the words.

...that done, he lets me go:

And, with his head over his shoulder turn’d,

Matthew had caressed her body with kisses, licks, and nibbles. His teeth against her thigh stole her breath. Tiny bites against her nipples undid her. Warm lips along her exposed skin melted her against him.

Her stokes became more desperate. Behind her lids, Matthew’s face appeared again, hair disheveled and perfect, his eyes peeling back the protective layers of her skin, forcing her to stop playing a role and be the real Lynn, moving with him in euphoria.

As she recited her lines, each finger plunged into her center was a phantom of his cock, owning her, withdrawing the girl deep within.

He seem’d to find his way without his eyes;

For out o’ doors he went without their helps,

He had pulled the secrets from her body with each thrust, her fire waiting for his spark. Her body on a wire as they converged as one, panting between the sheets, nails digging into skin and backs arching into one another.

In her room, Lynn was on her knees, riding herself and gasping his name. The ghost of every kiss, every grunt, every press of his hands against her hot skin, pushed her closer to the edge.

Her body could no longer hold back, waiting to give her nectar to her Romeo, her Hamlet, her love. She was completely undone, sold in quivering pieces to Matthew, as her body bucked and shivered under the cresting waves pummeling against her. She let out a scream of pain and pleasure, feeling vulnerable and exposed, as the orgasm overtook her.

She collapsed on the floor and stared at herself in the mirror, hair a mess, clothes pushed and pulled back as she fucked herself through Ophelia’s testimony. She tried her voice for the final line, Ophelia’s confession of her own undoing, and had to pause. Pleasure tripped through her body and claimed her. He claimed her. Her feelings, raw and unashamed, took over, and she whispered the last words, her promise to him.

And, to the last, bended their light on me.

The thrill of being so naughty, stroking herself while thinking of her lover, her sex god, her
teacher
, and letting herself go as loudly as her body demanded, was intoxicating. Maybe she should arrange a private audition. If she had him alone, rubbing herself while reading him the poetry of their trade, how could he resist her?

PART TWO

“Did you see it? Did you see it?” Dana shook Lynn’s arm. “Please tell me you saw it!”

Lynn sorted through her locker with the collected calm of a serial killer, cold and deliberate. Binders organized, books exchanged, hair smoothed in the magnetic mirror taking up the bulk of her locker door. She reapplied a layer of pink sparkly lip-gloss and cleaned up a few mascara smudges around her eyes.

“No.”

Dana gaped. “How was that not the first freaking thing you did this morning? He said he’d put it out first thing!”

Lynn continued fussing with her make-up instead of giving Dana an answer.

“What the hell, Viggiani? How are you so unaffected right now? What if Aria got the lead? What if he was so pissed, he made you Chorus Member Number 87? What if you got lead and so did Franklin Undersmith? These are real concerns here. Franklin got his teeth bleached this summer and it looks fucking gross. He’s one step closer to becoming a plastic Ken doll, and not the cute one, but that weird one with the plastic hair.”

Lynn snorted in laughter. “God, that’s so true. Then again, do I look Barbie enough? We may be able to swing it as a pair.”

“Aria does. Tell me she didn’t get implants this summer. TELL ME.”

“I told you. Nose job.”

“There’s no way those melons are natural. She was flatter than my hair in the winter not six months ago.”

“Why are you checking out Aria’s tits, anyway?”

Dana grabbed her small breasts and jiggled them around. “Jealousy’s a bitch. I’m woman enough to admit it. Also, I hate her. And you do, too, so you should be joining me in this Aria slamfest. After you explain why the fuck you haven’t looked at the cast list yet. What is going on in that little brunette head of yours?”

Lynn slammed her locker shut and sighed heavily. It felt melodramatic and fitting. Wasn’t that her entire life—one large melodrama after another? If she wasn’t a ghost in her own home or grounded for ridiculous drug allegations, she was fucking her teacher and failing an Advanced Algebra class, because who really cares about integers, anyway? Her dad was a freaking doctor and he never worried about solving for x.

“Look, if this is about your audition…”

“Of course it is!” Lynn dropped her voice and fidgeted with her purse as they bumped along the crowded hallways. “He’s barely looked at me since the audition Monday. I mean, I get that he doesn’t want to exactly become chummy after everything that happened, but don’t ignore me for fuck’s sake. He literally won’t even look at me. I had a question about the assigned reading two days ago and he never looked up from the computer. I freaked him out or something.”

“Your audition was incredible, don’t get me wrong, and you kicked Aria’s ass, that’s for damn sure. But, it was very… um… racy. Maybe you got him all hot and bothered and he was too embarrassed to look at you because of it.”

Dana ducked around a group of designated dude bros who were hurling a football across the inner courtyard. She waved to Oliver, cheeks pink. Lynn felt the familiar tug of jealousy that cropped up every time Oliver came around. Dana was so happy to be with him, and had the ability to share it with the whole school. They held hands and stole kisses by the shiny water fountains and left disgustingly cute notes in each other’s lockers.

Dana was over the moon. Lynn, in a purely selfish act, was in misery. Her heart was anchored to the scruffy older man who could get her expelled and likely buried alive the second her parents found out. He would be fired and never work again, thus never speak to her again and leave her in perpetual, horny misery.

Despite all the danger, all the things she knew so well, her thoughts were totally dominated by him.

Under the cover of darkness and silken sheets, Lynn couldn’t keep her hands off herself, remembering the heat of his breath against her bare skin and the hungry way he devoured her. She found herself fantasizing about straddling him against the bricked wall of the rooftop gardens, surrounded by hazy stars and the bright lights of Broadway, feeling his hardness pressed against her while trying to keep himself respectful. Twice this week, she’d had to excuse herself to the restroom to fuck her swollen cunt to a panting, silent orgasm in the handicapped stall.

Matthew dominated her entire being. She wanted to feel his scruff against her inner thigh and his biceps ripple as they walked along Time Square while he bestowed more professional wisdom between their stolen kisses.

She thought her audition would call to him. Every night she had rehearsed, Ophelia’s words in her mouth brought her to her knees. Lynn barely held it together on stage, but ended her monologue to huge applause, visible disdain from Aria, and nothing but silence from Matthew.