Latest Forum Posts:


The joy of the job

What a pity they are so pressed for time, a pleasant work distraction
The weights clinked into their cradle as he added more to the bar, this scenery was HEAVY damnit and the little lady running the get-in was making him sweat for his time. At first on paper, it had looked like just a few fly bars hung with scenery backdrops and a bunch of lights. Now, 6 hours in to the get-in, he and the other men (and women) were busting themselves to complete the set up and rig, Ryder was left cursing his own optimism.

At least there was eye candy. The tour manager had curves in all the right places, even if she did shoot her mouth off. She was tall, her untidy auburn hair framed her pale face and amber eyes. As the sweat ran off Ryder's arms it occurred to him that she was not only watching him, she was deriving pleasure. Some torturous pleasure, Ryder continued hauling heavy weight s to add to the fly bars, noticing the way she smiled into his eyes and licked her lips. What could possibly be going through her mind? They had hours yet of work ahead of them before they could call it a night, and the show opened in 3 days.

Stacey liked working backstage, maybe once-upon-a-time she had aspirations to becoming an actress, but not now. Ten years of working behind the scenes and there was still no other thrill like it. Today they were putting her show into a regional theatre. Her show. She loved it, finally the company had trusted her enough, after stage managing for a few years, and operating lighting and sound. They had given her the contract. This was the big one. A year long regional tour and she savoured the idea that it was her baby, her responsibility to get it right, do it well and keep the actors and the crew happy.

She hadn't expected to have such great venue crew, like the boys that were working on the get-in with them today. Especially him, turning up late, after she had already complained to the venue manager that they were down a crew member (or two, but there was no point pushing the issue). He came swaggering in, coffee in one hand, untied laces and a dark blue singlet. It was autumn outside and they would be lucky to get 15 degrees, hardly singlet weather. Not that she would get a chance to see the sky today, she mused.

As much as she loved working in the theatre sometimes she wondered what it would be like the have a weekend when other people had a weekend, be able to go to daytime events and think of the crowds around her as fellow revellers, rather than audience members and people in her care to be arranged and accounted for. If she was a weaker person, the possibilities of what could go wrong would keep her up at night, staring at the ceiling and worrying about the odds. (It was only that her tour bag held mountains and mountains of paperwork in the unlikely event that.... which made her think in such a way).

Then, this morning a man she had never met before had barreled into her life, coffee in one hand, his reserved, expressionless face marked by regrowth and topped with unkempt sandy hair (not to mention a shirt that wasn't keeping anyone cool, least of all her) and changed the way she was thinking. The blue material stretched at his chest and the singlet showed his bare, thick set, muscled arms. Stacey wondered if anyone else thought the heating was turned up to high. She wondered what those easy-on-the-eye appendages would look like either side of her as he pinned her down.

He didn't so much start work - he eased the work load considerably, the fit up and unpack began to happen a great deal faster. Now, two hours later they were hanging pieces of the set from bars in the fly tower. She was glad Ryder had turned up and started to help them. It made all the difference, he was after all MASSIVE and handy. Hot and handy, Stacey thought, grinning to herself. What more could you want in a man? Now, as she finished rigging the front truss she allowed herself to peak over at the fly tower.

As he laboured, Ryder's forearms were slick with sweat, his neatly packaged upper body bulging in all the right places as he positioned the heavy tools. Stacey knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to send the others on smoko and wrap those big arms around her, pull her to him and make him kiss her. She wanted to taste him, learn the feel of him, more than she had wanted anything in recent memory. She shifted uncomfortably in her steel-capped boots. Not today Sunshine, she told herself, smiling. Today there was a get-in to run.

She unpacked the last of the smaller items from the truck and carried the coat hangers and first aid kit to the lunch room. She had a costume-fitting lined up for early the next morning and some of the new items would have to be hung on the racks for the actors. She knew they would probably already have a first aid kit in the venue but it was wiser to bring one along.

She carried the plastic box down the corridor, he was coming the other way. His frame seemed to fill up the space as he walked towards her. Closer still and she could almost feel his heat. As they passed one another, he reached out, much to her surprise and brushed his arm across her mid drift. He disappeared up the steps backstage without turning and Stacey was left wondering if she had really felt his hands. He hadn't said anything and she waited, unsure of her next move. Then, with a spring in her step and a genuine smile on her lips she kept going. Oh, so what? She wasn't going to marry the guy and he was fit, hot and why not let him take advantage of the short time they had together?

Less than half an hour later she knocked most of the crew off for a lunch break- the boys in the fly tower were weighting the last bar and would be the last crew to finish up. Perfect, she thought to herself. May be he would join her for lunch? These days, at the rented accommodation she didn't bother to make her own food, her meal breaks her only chance to get out of the theatre and appreciate their surrounds. Perhaps for lunch, Ryder could show her where to get a sandwich. Where to get a sandwich? When Stacey allowed herself to look at him, the last thing she wanted was food. Hell, she thought he was delectable and could imagine all sorts of things. They took their break not fifteen minutes later. As the men dispersed she saw him check his pockets for money and seized her chance.

Ryder heaved a huge sigh of relief after the four men finished their task. He put his 2-way radio back in its charger and made his way down off the fly floor. The tour manager stood on the stage, hands on hips with a concentrated look on her face. The way she stood, as though ready to tap her foot at their tardiness, her long pale arms arched at her sides – it did funny things to him. He longed to displace her composure, to make her bleary eyed and uncertain. He hadn't felt this way about a woman for a few years now. Ryder couldn't pin point why he was so drawn to her, but he was. He couldn't believe his luck as the other men went about grabbing their packed lunches and making their way out of the venue. She stood in front of him on stage, her arms were no longer both hugging her hips, one swung gracefully at her side. She gave him a lopsided grin that tugged at something deep inside him.

"Wanna come to lunch?" Stacey offered as he closed the distance between them.

"Ah, I don't really feel hungry I was going to do some coding in the smoko room."

"Sounds so tempting," Stacey shot back with sarcasm weighing down her words.

Without another word she followed him to the small room, but there were five other people eating and Ryder held his computer under one arm, reluctant to start it up and lose his chance to chat with her. The others didn't get up, Stacey made a quick appraisal of the situation and beckoned to him.

“I'm going to get a sandwich, you can do what you like.”

And he did. As they made for the street Stacey wondered at how to make conversation with this man, when her tongue tied and she felt her stomach doing flip-flops just being near him. They were almost out onto the curb, Stacey allowing herself to imagine what kind of a sandwich she could fit into the short meal break, when he stopped.

“It's lunch time.”

“So it is,” she agreed dryly, wanting nothing more than to eat.

“There won't be anyone in the loading dock.”

“Won't there?” her response was innocent but she felt a tremor run through her body.

“What would you want with down there?”

Ryder grinned. He didn't say anything but she followed him, as they picked up the pace and wove back towards the back of the building, Stacey marvelling at his rear view. A few paces ahead of her, Ryder's broad back sent her mind racing, he was tall, with great legs and a tight arse. They rounded a corner and he stopped abruptly, tearing her from her musings.

“Did you want a sandwich?”

“Are you serious?” Stacey closed the distance between them and felt her heart accelerate.

“I want to know what you want,” she added huskily, so close to him they were almost touching, the air was electric.

Ryder didn't say anything, he swept an arm easily around her waist and drew her in even closer, until he could feel the weight of her breasts on his broad chest, Stacey was sure he could feel her pulse racing. Her eyes widened in surprise. A fraction of a second had Stacey wondering at the craziness of the situation, the alluring adrenaline kick at finally being near him, where she had wanted to be. A fraction of a second passed, before his soft, full lips captured hers and she breathed in the smell of him, allowing herself to close her eyes. His chest was a wall and he smelt of smoke and pure maleness. Nothing else in the world mattered all of a sudden, except the prospect of his hands under her shirt. Stacey wanted to be alone with him. She knew it was impossible. They had a lighting plot after dinner (and in was only lunch time!). At once the day seemed unbearably long. Suddenly he erased all thoughts of 'later' and 'alone'. His hands shot up under her oversized work shirt to caress her soft, fine, flesh. One traveled further and found the swell of her breast. Ryder brushed the underside of her breast with the knuckles of his hand hesitantly, lightly, sending shock waves through her. Stacey wrapped her arms about his neck. She leaned in, pulling him closer. Her breathing unsteady, she wanted to open her eyes again, reassure herself he was real.

The insistent pressure of his lips increased and she traced her tongue into the heat of his mouth. Ryder shifted his weight and brought them out of the spell. Stacey reluctantly pushed him clear of her, looking up into green eyes now almost black with desire. A slow grin spread across her features as she contemplated the rest of their 'lunch'.

“Shall we go to the loading dock?” Stacey breathed uneasily, moving to plant a light kiss on his irreistable lips.

“Sure. You go first,” Ryder offered hoarsely.

Stacey took the opportunity to grab one of his big hands in hers and they made their way towards the back of the building, passing no one. Ryder walked confidently over to stacked roadcases. He pulled her close.

“You've got to be joking,” she said softly against his lips. But he wasn't. He swept her into desirous moments as their mouths met, pursuading her with an insistent passion she was at a a loss to draw away from. Her tembling hands found his chest and traced their way to his muscled shoulders, the heat between their bodies threatening to engulf her. She ran her hands down his carved arms and sighed, despite herself. Ryder took the noise as encouragement and bent his head to plant little kisses on her burning neck, her collarbone, his left hand sought out her nipple under her shirt and she arched at his touch, their bodies tantalisingly close but separated by annoying amounts of clothes.

Like a true theatre mech, when he released her this time, it was to check if the brakes were on the roadcase behind her. They were hidden from view now, surrounded by equipment. She grinned and he hoisted her up, firmly grasping her waist and gently easing her into sitting position atop the case. Stacey happily removed his singlet then, mischief shining in her eyes. She let it fall to the floor, threading her hands around his neck, pulling him close, insisting on being kissed. Ryder obliged and Stacey parted her thighs around his hips so he could come closer. She was rewarded with the evidence of his erection, firm and large against the warm flesh of her inner thigh, through her jeans.

Ryder smoothed her hair in his hands, ran an over-sized palm down the length of her much smaller arm and wondered at the urgency within him. Ryder had never felt it before. Never a man to question his own motives, aware that the time between them was brief- he drew away from kissing her, feasting his eyes on her face. In a way, he knew he was searching her expression for approval. Everything was happening so fast. Her honey-brown eyes were half closed in lust, her cheeks stained with colour. He had disrupted the even keal of her controlled emotions and he liked that. Still looking at her eyes he unbuttoned her jeans and drew her towards the edge of her seat in order to allow himself access. His adept fingers slid their way past the small sprig of hairs and he eased a finger into her softness. Stacey let him, watching him, crazy with need. As his fingers began to work their magic she made a sound. Ryder kissed her lips once more and increased the pressure. With his hand he explored her wet centre until she squirmed beneath him and was fumbling with the zip of his jeans.

Stacey unsheathed him, his jeans slid to the floor. For a moment she stopped and took at the size of his cock. Stacey licked her lips and hopped down from her vantage point, deliberately manuoevering Ryder so she had room to wriggle out of her own jeans. He eyed the unexpected blue lace of her underwear (there was so much about each other they still didn't know) before she tucked that too, into the folds of her discarded jeans. Stacey stopped herself from smiling a self satisfied grin at the sight of him, dishevelled, nearly naked, with his pants about his ankles, his manhood at attention as he waited silently for her next move. She leaned up and kissed him with an urgency and a warmth that he answered easily. Once more, he placed her on the roadcase. This time when she parted her thighs to pull him into her, there was nothing to stop their flesh from contacting. The kiss deepened and he made a satisfying noise in the back of his throat.

Stacey wrapped her fingers around his silken length, taking matters into her own hands, guiding his path. At first she placed his substantial head at her opening and skirmed as they continued to kiss, enjoying Ryder's roaming hands on her taut breasts, the beat of her own blood in her ears. She was breathing unevenly now, wanting nothing more than Ryder to fill her, she wasn't sure how much more she could take. As she squirmed he stopped kissing her lips. Ryder steadied himself. He kissed her neck and gently closed the distance between them. At her intake of breath he abruptly halted, noting how the desire in her eyes had turned her pupils almost black. She wriggled, impaled upon his cock and reading her response as encouragement, he drove himself home.

She sighed, Stacey almost giggled and he withdrew a fraction, a questioning edge to his stormy, intense expression. Ryder fought himself for control, wanting to prelong the moment. He stroked and filled her and she arched against him, laying her body along the roadcase, willing herself to be as quiet as possible lest someone disrupt them now.

“Please,” she begged softly, “that feels so good. Don't you stop.”

Pleasure shot through her body and she wanted more, her hands grasped at his buttocks, a silent plea for him to pick up the pace. He did.

Every stroke that drove into her hot wetness brought Stacey closer to expiring from the pleasure of it. She pushed her torso up onto her elbows and watched Ryder. He took the opportunity to slide capable hands under her buttocks, bringing their hips into exquisite connection, Then he looked right into her eyes, his green ones meeting her brown gaze; and stroked. Stacey titled her head back and gave in to the sensation. He stroked again. She felt his weight shift above her until the weight of his body pressed against hers, their unsteady breath mingling. She kissed the stubble on his chin, the corners of his mouth and he struggled to remain in control. Ryder broke the moment by becoming very still

“Do...n't stooo,” Stacey tried to say.

“If I don't, it will all be over,” he said thickly

She shook her head vigorously, in place of words, the feeling in her body too great to allow for speech.

“Its ok,” she got out.

And with her words of encouragement he picked up the pace and took them both to orgasm, Stacey could feel hers building to its exquisite climax but before the waves of euphoria broke within her she could feel him growing in size, impossibly large, filling her beyond her best expectations. Then he too came, pressing his swollen lips to hers and plundering her mouth in the same furious passion with which he now plundered her body. Stacey fought not to cry out. She whimpered and wriggled, finally allowing herself to go limp beneath him. Ryder could feel himself almost crush her as he recovered from his release. They were both breathing hard.

Ryder kissed her lips, her cheek, her hair and pushed himself up by his elbows, his weakened knees adjusting to take his weight once more. Once he was shakily standing he buttoned his pants, a little sheepishly. Stacey watched him through her lashes. Unable to resist the urge, he scooped her up and drew her to him, planting a kiss.

“I've been wanting to do that all day.”

“Mmm me too,” she murmured.

“We have to go back.”

“You first,” she volunteered cheekily. “I'll need a moment to unbow these legs, before I stand”

“You didn't like it?” Ryder asked her softly, he was so close to her ear it made the hairs on her neck respond and she shivered.

“Don't start that again.” She tried to push his great frame clear of her but she failed to budge him.

“Is that the end of it then?” he asked, just as softly.

“Oh I don't think so,” Stacey volunteered, she swept an appreciative glance over him and stood to button her jeans.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

To link to this sex story from your site - please use the following code:

<a href="">The joy of the job</a>

Comments (3)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.