Pooner Diaries: An Evening at the Theatre

[Birdboy 10482]

Nothing too deep for today's tale- just a bit of sexy fun. Enjoy.

 

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I've been a patron of the arts almost as far back as I can remember. Be it performing or visual arts, there are few art forms I don't appreciate. But I realized that my entry into this hobby a few years ago brought artistic appreciation and art patronage to a new and different level.

 

 

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I'm greeted by my thespian for this evening. She is truly a creature of the stage, with bold makeup, a mastery of the grand, sweeping gesture, and a flair for the dramatic. She leads me to the stage. It's a little smaller than the other stages that I usually frequent. It's only king-sized, in fact. And instead of my customary sixth-row center seat at other venues, my seat is even more up close and personal in this intimate theatre. This evening's program features performance art, with audience participation more than strongly encouraged. Nay, absolutely necessary. I leave the tribute on the night table, and get undressed for the theatre. Off with the tails, black tie, and spats, and I take my place in the wings.

 

The curtains open on the canopied four-poster. The house lights go down, and the stage candles are lit. The music swells, and the performance begins.

 

Act I

 

She is already kneeling on the bed. Enter our intrepid theatre patron.

 

Ours is a forbidden tryst. We are from separate and warring tribes. The disagreement is nothing so trivial as the one between between the Capulets and Montagues. Nay, she is from the vast and spawling PERF tribe. And I hail from the tiny but friendly TURB clan. It was our mutual attraction and interest that brought us together this evening, in spite of our differences.

 

She is before me, her womanly charms threatening to overflow her tight black corset. I see her treasures straining for release, and I reach hither forth to free them from their imprisonment.

 

"What light over yonder window breaks. 'Tis the east, and your girls are the rising suns.", I say with a grin. We both burst into laughter. I fondle her treasures for a moment, kissing and licking them tenderly.

 

She leaned forward with a smile. "Birdie, my Birdie. Wherefore art thou, my Birdie?" She reached into my boxers, and withdrew little Birdie from his confinement.

 

I reach forward to kiss her, and she gently maneuvered me down to the bed. I lay back, and she straddled my face, bending down to take me in her mouth. I open my eyes, seeing her stretch off far into the distance before of me. I close my eyes and swirl my tongue, inhaling her subtle but rich scent. I soon bring her to her climax, her body stiffening and shuddering, singing an aria of freedom and release.

 

She redoubled her efforts. Finally, I could not hold on any longer to her onslaught. I sing my own baritone cry of delight. I barely survive la petite mort, and this act is officially a tragedy.

 

 

Intermission

 

She offers me a bottle of water, and we have a light and witty repartee, providing much needed comic relief. After a few minutes, her eyes twinkle at me, and I smile back. We begin the second act.

 

 

Act II

 

The curtain rises.

 

"I have a surprise for you this time, Birdie. Something new." She reached under the bed, and I heard a tinkling of chains as she revealed a set of restraints attached to the bedposts. She slipped the cuffs over my wrists, first one, then the other, as I lay back on the bed.

 

I am Prometheus bound. I have stolen her fire, moments ago. And she, the bird of prey, was hovering overhead, admiring her handiwork. Waiting for the right moment to descend and consume my essence.

 

She swoops to conquer. Descending in front of my lap, taking me in her mouth with one quick and deep stroke, gripping me with the back of her throat. I greet the rush of sensation with a gasp. Just so she gets the point across, she lifts and does it again. And again. She sets up a fast rhythm that is hard to withstand, her nose and chin tapping me forcefully. The sensation is powerful, intense. I hold off as long as I can, tears welling up in my eyes.

 

She pulled herself up, and straddled my hips. She braced herself against one of the bedposts, as we start to thrust in unison. The canopy over us shakes, and I fear that we will bring the house down. But with a devilish grin, she grips me tighter. My body, already tensed, pulls against the restraints. With a very few extra strokes, she brings me to an ohhhh.. ohhh... yes. A ohh.. so.. very.. satisfying denouement, and..

 

The curtain falls. She takes a final bow, kissing me as I lay back in raptured bliss. I consider a curtain call, but I am drained, in all senses of the word.

 

Exeunt. My appointed time is over. It's time for me to exit the stage, and go off into the good night. It's off to the showers for me.