The Big Performance

I closed my eyes then, imagined what it would be like to be on stage for real, in front of an audience full of people and saying “when you fucked me” over and over. My body was hot and tingling and I put my hand between my legs, running my thumb over the seam of my jeans, sending gentle pressure down to the hot and responsive spot underneath.

“When you touched me, When you fucked me, When you touched me, When you fucked me, fucked me, fucked me, fucked me.”

I was so turned on now. I loved the thought of sitting up here, stroking myself and saying dirty words with a whole theatre-full of people watching me, getting off on me getting myself off.

I pulled in my stomach and slid my fingers down inside the waistband of my jeans. I pushed the soft cotton of my panties aside and slipped my forefinger into the crease of my pussy.

I couldn’t believe how wet I was, the moisture had seeped all along my lips and wetted my finger as soon as I touched myself. I circled my finger a couple of times, then added a second finger.

I ran my fingers down between my lips, slumping down in the chair so my hips were thrust forward to give me easier access. I pictured myself naked, or in skimpy underwear sat, just like this, on stage with a busily silent auditorium.

I could hear my own breath harsh and ragged in the silence, filling the huge, empty space. My hand was working fast now, slipping and rubbing across my pussy as I panted for breath and muttered those two lines from the poem over and over.