Moonglow by Moonlight

Moonglow by Moonlight

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Tags

sex, etc

Summary

Other Authors Back in the day, I was part of a little clique of writers on this site. We would write for and about each other. That probably still happens too. I had some lovely stuff written about me: I was invariably given abs like Arnold and a penis of impossible dimensions. It didn’t help that I had persuaded everyone that I was tall, dark and Scottish (whereas I am actually short, fair and Home-Counties). It was all wonderfully flattering. And flattery is the name of the game. The women in these stories are my fantasy of how I perceived my writer friends. As it turned out, one portrayal was remarkably accurate – but I’m not saying which one! If you are still here, you know who you are. You are all beautiful, sexy ladies. The first story may have had a different title when I put it up here originally. The working title I gave it was ‘Writers’ Forum’, so that is how it appears today. As a story, it’s a kind of dual narrative thing – otherwise, it’s just filth! Sex, sex and more sex. I had fun with it, but it’s not much of a story. The second tale, ‘Moonglow by Moonlight’ is a bit more complex and interesting. As a theatre buff, I consider myself fortunate to have made the acquaintance of many theatre people down the years. The background for this story is based on a tale from an actor friend who toured the States with and English company; he assured me, that these ‘meet the cast’ things he did were a very good way of hooking up with American housewives! The third tale, ‘Reconciliation’, was a real challenge. I wrote this knowing nothing about the author beyond her work. She told me I had portrayed her very well. I think it’s a good story, you be the judge. ‘One Night in Lagos’ was written as a birthday present for a friend on this site. I’m glad to say that the writer really enjoyed it. It’s a bit of froth – silly, sexy fun. Enjoy. I’m sorry if your story isn’t here – I know I wrote others – but these are all I have left.

Tags

sex, etc

Summary

Other Authors
Back in the day, I was part of a little clique of writers on this site. We would write for and about each other. That probably still happens too.
I had some lovely stuff written about me: I was invariably given abs like Arnold and a penis of impossible dimensions. It didn’t help that I had persuaded everyone that I was tall, dark and Scottish (whereas I am actually short, fair and Home-Counties). It was all wonderfully flattering.
And flattery is the name of the game. The women in these stories are my fantasy of how I perceived my writer friends. As it turned out, one portrayal was remarkably accurate – but I’m not saying which one!
If you are still here, you know who you are.
You are all beautiful, sexy ladies.
The first story may have had a different title when I put it up here originally. The working title I gave it was ‘Writers’ Forum’, so that is how it appears today. As a story, it’s a kind of dual narrative thing – otherwise, it’s just filth! Sex, sex and more sex. I had fun with it, but it’s not much of a story.

The second tale, ‘Moonglow by Moonlight’ is a bit more complex and interesting. As a theatre buff, I consider myself fortunate to have made the acquaintance of many theatre people down the years. The background for this story is based on a tale from an actor friend who toured the States with and English company; he assured me, that these ‘meet the cast’ things he did were a very good way of hooking up with American housewives!

The third tale, ‘Reconciliation’, was a real challenge. I wrote this knowing nothing about the author beyond her work. She told me I had portrayed her very well. I think it’s a good story, you be the judge.

‘One Night in Lagos’ was written as a birthday present for a friend on this site. I’m glad to say that the writer really enjoyed it. It’s a bit of froth – silly, sexy fun. Enjoy.

I’m sorry if your story isn’t here – I know I wrote others – but these are all I have left.

Content

Submitted: July 31, 2020

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: July 31, 2020

A A A

A A A


Moonglow tried not to laugh out loud when she noticed that Franco’s balls were slapping against her forehead. She clung on tightly around his waist and sucked like crazy on his pulsating penis, locking her legs firmly behind his head. She felt Franco’s tongue-tip start to tickle her clitoris and tried to lift her twat closer to his face by pushing her thighs on his shoulders. Franco obviously got the message and began to lift her, one hand on her shoulder, the other arm wrapped around her trim waist, to get his tongue further into her sopping wet cunny. Moonglow squirmed at the sensation of hair as her sensitive nipples rasped against his hairy belly and his beard bristled against her clit as his mouth reached to suck on her cunt-lips.

Her excitement was building all the time, partly through Franco’s ministrations to her minge, partly from the secrecy of this strange and blissful liaison, but mostly it was the thought of someone from the neighbourhood suddenly arriving on the scene. What would they see? What would they think of her? She was a respectable young mom in these parts and here she was in a clearing in the woods of a public park, bathed in moonlight, naked and performing a standing sixty-nine with some stranger from that out-of-town acting troupe!

Oh boy! How had it come to this? That’s a story.

 

She had known Francisco Fraser for years, of course. They had had a flirty funny relationship via a writers’ website. Erotica. Naughty stories. It was all fun and many of the writers flirted and played games with each other. But it was safe, because they were at all corners of the globe. You never met one of them. Not usually. But then the tickets arrived.

Tickets for a production of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’, to be played in the park by a theatre company that was touring from England! Moonglow was most impressed. She had great memories of seeing Shakespeare in Central Park when she lived in New York City and here were four front row tickets for a show in her local park here in the ‘burbs. She was astonished at the cover price. Wow. And these were freebies for her and the family? Someone up there loves her!

Her husband was not convinced, however. “Who sent them? “ He asked, “Why us? No, honey, I think it’s some kind of scam. We’ll turn up to the show next Friday and they’ll ask us to pay for them. Four hundred and eighty bucks? To see a bunch of English guys prancing around the park? I don’t think so. And besides, you were going to have a girls’ night out next Friday – remember? I agreed to take the boys to the ball game. I’m sure they’d prefer baseball to Shakespeare.”

Moonglow didn’t quite agree with this, but she had to admit that her boys would be expecting their game that night. Maybe she could persuade the girls to hit the park for some Shakespeare. But that didn’t solve the mystery of where the tickets came from.

The e-mail arrived the next day. ‘Did you get the tickets? FF x’. Francisco sent the tickets? Why? Surely he was over in England. But then she recalled that the posts had been few and far between for a while. That usually happened when Franco was really busy. Was he in the show? Franco was always cagey about his work, Jeez, that man was cagey about everything. All this time and she didn’t even know what he looked like.

She checked the theatre company on the web, there was a cast list, but no Francisco Fraser. However, there was a Fraser Francis, playing a character called Starveling/Moonshine…there was also a picture.

The picture showed a beefy 40-something, with dark hair and a goatee beard. That had to be Franco, it looked so much like the profile picture he used on the site, but there was no busty brunette with hairy armpits standing behind him in this shot!

Moonglow found out something else from the website – there was a ‘meet the cast’ event on at the theatre on Wednesday afternoon. It was usually only old folks that went to those things, but she could make it as long as she could get away in time to pick the boys up from school.

 

When Wednesday came, she was oddly nervous. She got her man off to work and her boys to school as usual, but then she found herself feeling jittery, nervy, but also a little bit excited. She decided she would go to the event at the theatre, maybe she could have a bit of fun with old Franco…

She thought carefully about what to wear – at first it was going to be high heels, stockings and a tiny dress. But then she realised that in a room full of crumbly oldsters, she’d stick out like a sore thumb, and every one of those randy actors would be eyeing her, drooling like hungry dogs! (Hmmm, nice, but not really what I want today.) So she dressed down: plain cotton blouse, knee-length skirt, sensible shoes and she wouldn’t put her contacts in, she’d wear her eyeglasses. She had decided to go bra-less, she often did in the summer, but she paused over whether to go commando. No, she resolved, this was a bit of theatre, so she’d stay in character and choose a plain pink pair of cotton panties.

The studio in the theatre had been set out café style, with chairs and tables for the audience and a row of seats for the actors. As she had expected, she was the youngest person there by about twenty-five years. She picked a seat on the end table at the front.

There was a smattering of polite applause as the actors trouped in, as luck would have it, the chair right in front of her was occupied by a big tall man with short black hair and a little grey beard. This had to be Franco. She regarded him through her glasses. Not bad, she thought. Let’s have some fun.

The talk started with a lacklustre introduction followed by fairly obvious questions. When Franco talked she noticed that his voice was quick and light. That surprised her. He spoke with an obvious Scots accent, quite different from the others who were there. Hmmmm. His guttural vowel sounds and rolled rs gave her a tiny little thrill. Nice. Soon a lot of questioning focussed on the two leads, who had been in some English soap or movie Moonglow had never heard of. This was her moment.

She stared at the big man across form her. When he caught her eye, she shifted her glasses down her nose and gave him a flash of her dark, dark eyes, then she poked out her tongue tip and slowly and deliberately licked her lips. The man’s blue eyes widened and he returned her stare. Got him!

Glancing round quickly to make sure the attention was elsewhere, Moonglow moved her hand over her small round breast. As Franco stared at her, she traced her nipple with her finger, so that the shape of the hard little bud was visible through the thin material. Franco gulped and looked at his fellows, she guessed he was checking that this show was for his benefit. Actually, baby, it’s for me too.

When she popped one, then two buttons on her blouse, Franco‘s jaw dropped. Oh this was such fun! Again after a quick check, she began to push her blouse open, teasingly slow, until she was sure he could see her little pink rosebud, which she flicked lasciviously with her thumb. Franco shifted in his seat. How tight are those pants, mister? That dick of yours should be getting hard if I’m any judge. Moonglow realised without surprise she was becoming rather wet.

“What do you think, Fraser?” came a voice.

“Wh…what?” Franco almost jumped out of his seat, Moonglow quickly covered herself. “Sorry…. miles away…ahem…. must have a drink.” And he swigged from the water bottle he was holding. “I do apologise, could you repeat the question, please?”

Moonglow almost laughed out loud as she thought of his dry mouth compared to her wet cunt! The attention quickly changed to another cast member and once again she was playing to an audience of one.

She shifted her seat back so that her lower body was shielded from the rest of the audience by the table. Then, making sure she had Franco’s attention, she quietly hiked her skirt over her knees and up her tanned brown thighs. His grip on the water bottle was tightening, she noticed. She also noticed the coolness of the air on her inner thighs when she spread her knees apart.

Despite the arctic blast of the air-con, Franco was sweating now. Good. Let’s up the ante. She furtively placed her hand over the clearly visible (to Franco anyway) pink material of her panties. Moonglow was delighted to notice that his hard-on was now obvious and he was folding his arms on his lap to try and hide it from the oldies.

She stuck her thumb in the waistband of her knickers and pulled down, giving Franco an eyeful of curly brown pubic hair which she let her thumb stroke languidly. The man’s bright blue eyes were now popping out of his head. She replaced the waistband, and let her fingers stroke her mound before moving them between her legs to her soaking gusset. She could feel herself beginning to build as she wondered if Franco could see the shape of her twalia in the wet cotton.

A question to the actress sitting beside Franco shocked her out of her reverie. But, peeking round, she could see no eyes on her. Good. Time for the finale. As soon as he was looking at her again, she hooked her index finger into the leg of her panties and pulled the material across to expose her pink, wet pussy, hedged by damp tangled curls.

Slowly and sensuously, she pushed her middle finger deep into her shiny hole.  Then, just as carefully, she pulled it out again, delighted that a clear thread of sticky thick puss-juice trailed after her finger, which she wiped on her hairy outer lips. She pulled her skirt down and placed that finger in her mouth, sucking it whorishly. Franco whimpered audibly.

  “I’m sorry, Fraser, did you have something to add there?” came the voice of the host.

“I do beg your pardon”, Franco said, blushing hotly, “but I seem to have come over a little faint. Perhaps I need to go for a wee lie down.”

“Well we’re almost done here today, all that’s left for me to say is thank you to our guests from the English Northern Stage (polite applause), and thank you for coming along, we hope you’ll see the show this week.”

After the actors had trailed out of the studio, Moonglow made to leave, she’d have to be quick to get to school. There was a tug at her sleeve and she looked down to see the smiling face of a sweet old lady in a wheelchair. The lady gave Moonglow a charming grin and said with a wink, “You worked him well today, missy, I hope that after all that he’s a real good fuck!”

Moonglow laughed as she ran to her station wagon. Fuck? Franco? No way. That shit only happened in stories.

After she’d picked up the boys and got them started on their homework she logged into the site. ‘That hot soccer mom with glasses today was YOU.’ She read from her wall,

‘You almost killed me in there. Very funny and absolutely filthy. The hallmarks of Moonglow. Brilliant. Looking forward to meeting you and yr family Friday. Please stick around after the show. I will be discrete. I promise. FFx’.

She replied immediately. ‘Family other arrangements. Sorry. I’m bringing girlfriends. Is that okay.’

He came straight back. ‘GIRLFRIENDS! Rock and Roll! Just kidding. I know that thing today was just a bit of a giggle. I won’t say a word. You can show me off as your Scotch Uncle or something. Lol.’

Sweet. Funny guy. Nice guy. Still-a-little-hot-but-quite-OLD guy. Yeah she would show him off and he would flirt, probably with all of them. Yeah, it would be a blast! And maybe…nah, stories.

 

There’s people that don’t believe in magic, but it’s real. Not the shazam, witchy, Harry Potter-ish stuff. That’s just in stories. But there is a magic when everything just fits perfectly – sounds, music, colour, atmosphere, and that magic carries you away to a different place, takes away the day to day stuff, moves your soul out of your body. That’s the magic of theatre.

And on that night Moonglow was completely carried away by the magic of theatre. She visualised the darkness of the wood, and the smallness of the fairies. She felt the anger of the Fairy King and Queen and the passion of the young lovers. For the first time in her life, she really did believe the donkey-headed man thing. She heard Shakespeare talk to her, her - Moonglow, down the centuries. Every time an actor said the word ‘moon’, and that’s a hell of a lot in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ she felt it as a physical sensation. Especially tonight with the full moon high in the summer sky above the park. And Franco, in his tiny part, was sensational.

It might have been part of the magic of the night, but everything he said was funny. And it wasn’t just her that laughed, the audience was with him all the way. He played against his size and was delicate and birdlike in his movements, warbly and Scottish in his voice. But the best bit was near the end, when the guys do the funny dance. Moonglow was no expert, but she was sure it took an expert dancer to fall and trip with such wonderful timing as Franco did. For a big guy he was light on his feet. She cried with laughter everytime he fell on his ass and the other actors made a big show of picking him up and getting him back in the dance.

You could hear a pin drop in Puck’s last speech and when the company came on for their bow, the place exploded in applause and cheers.

The audience poured out of the arena in an excited heaving mass. Moonglow and her friends made their way to the bar in the pavilion.

“Is this where the actors from the show drink?” she asked a barkeep.

“Yeah,” came the reply, “and how!”

She told her friend Helen to get them in and excused herself. She didn’t need the bathroom, but she wanted a moment alone with Franco to tell him how much she had loved the show. No, really loved it. She felt that it would be hard to really express her thoughts when her friends were there. Who was kidding? She was buzzing with excitement over the show. The magic was working her. It was like the rock concerts she’d seen as a kid. She was turned on! She waited outside, staring at the moon as it threw a silvery sheen over the dark trees.

Franco was there with her in no time. He gave her a warm friendly hug, kissed her cheek and said, “Hey, you know what? You really do glow in the moon light!” He was positively bouncing with energy. “Okay, beautiful, let’s a have drink and see what comes up, eh?”

“Whoa, Franco! “ Moonglow pushed him into the shadows, “Give me a minute, please.”

“What I’ve got to give you will take more than a minute!” he chaffed cheekily, and he danced behind her, leaned down and planted another kiss on the top of her head.

“What is it with you?” Moonglow laughed, but she was slightly puzzled by the change from before, “When I saw you on Wednesday you were a lot more laid back.”

“Until you started!” he laughed.

A horrible thought almost brought her down. “Please,” she asked, eyeing him earnestly, “just tell me. Are you on something?”

Franco’s laughter rang through the night. He picked Moonglow up off the ground and kissed her cheek again. “I’m on adrenalin, baby! I’m on a show high – best feeling in the world!”

“Put me down, dope.” Moonglow giggled, “Best feeling? Better than sex?”

“Oh yeah, ….except maybe post-show sex…” it was an unspoken invitation.

Moonglow, who was now caught up in his passionate vibe, felt a pang of pure lust. Story time, she thought.

“I know a place we can put that to the test…”

They ran, giggling like teenagers, through the woods to a little clearing she knew. This was no time for messing about, they shed their clothes in seconds and stood facing each other, naked in the moonlight. Wondering who’d make the first move.

It was Franco, he picked her off the ground and held her tight against him, kissing her mouth with a hungry ferocity. Moonglow wrapped her legs around his broad waist, and let her hips slip until she felt her cunny, wet with the excitement of the evening, just touch Franco’s bulging cock end.

She took great pleasure in watching his expressions change as she lowered more of herself onto his straining tool. His eyes widened as her sopping twat squelched over his bell, he gave a huge gasp as her hot lips slid onto his shaft and when she started to move and grind, his broad face was filled with animal lust. He gripped her hips and, leaning back for balance, began to thrust at her lustily.

Moonglow tried not to whoop in delight – this was like riding a swing with a cock in you! This guy must have some strong legs. She spread her thighs as wide as they could go to get around Franco’s wide hips as he pulled her onto his hungry cock, swinging and thrusting and grunting like a rutting bull.

Her mound was catching and pulling on the bottom of Franco’s belly, her clitty was exposed and rubbing against him, she could feel the electric thrill of her orgasm begin. Oh yes. But then he stopped.

“Nononono,” she whimpered, still writhing and bucking on him, “don’t stop, I’m sooooo close.”

Franco held her firm and giggling cheekily said, “Wednesday, soccer mom. Let’s see who can tease now.”

“You fucker,” she almost shrieked, “let me go, put me down.”

Franco was laughing now.

“Lassie, you’ll get it. Patience.”  He lifted her easily off his cock, which made an audible plop, and pushed her up by her ass, so her little tits were in his face. He bit gently on a hard pink nipple which sent a bolt of electricity straight to her core. “You’re so light I bet we could do a Fraser Special.”

“Anything you like, fuck-man,” she growled at him, “Just get me off!”

The next instant she was upside down. Franco was holding her shoulder in one strong hand, while his other arm was tight around her waist, just under her hips. She put her thighs on his shoulder and her arms round Franco’s thick mid-section to stop herself falling on the ground head first.

“For fucks sake, Franco,” Moonglow panted. She was afraid to open her eyes. She could feel her hair hanging down from head, it was so weird. Then she felt Franco’s teeth begin to pull at her pubic curls and his tongue slide towards her slit. Opening her eyes she saw Franco’s sticky cock in her face and she realised what a Fraser Special was. She opened her mouth and latched on to the bobbing todger, sucking like a calf at the cow-teat.

Moonglow tried not to laugh out loud when she noticed that Franco’s balls were slapping against her forehead. She clung on tightly around his waist and sucked like crazy on his pulsating penis, locking her legs firmly behind his head. She felt Franco’s tongue-tip start to tickle her clitoris and tried to lift her twat closer to his face by pushing her thighs on his shoulders. Franco obviously got the message and began to lift her to get his tongue further into her sopping wet cunny. Moonglow squirmed at the sensation of hair as her sensitive nipples rasped against his hairy belly and his beard bristled against her clit as his mouth reached to suck on her cunt-lips.

This was too much! The rocking of their bodies, the moonlight, and the chance of being caught all added to things Franco was doing with his marvellous mouth. He nibbled her fanny-flaps with his teeth, then he licked at her hot hole, making the most obscenely wet and squelchy noises. But it was when he sucked her clitoris nearly out of its little pink sheath that she felt herself orgasm convulsively. She groaned, gurgling on man-meat and gushed upwards into Franco’s cunt-thirsty mouth. Obviously invigorated by her sudden burst of puss-juice, Franco ejaculated copiously onto the roof of her mouth.

Moonglow was coughing and spluttering on the spunk as it shot into unexpected places. Franco put her down, and patted her back. Fuck! Was she breathing his sperm? But when she looked at his worried face and realised his grey goatee was shining in the moonlight with her cunny juices she began to giggle.

They were both helpless with laughter as they struggled into their clothes in the dark and they walked hand in hand back to the bar in the pavilion.

“What took you so long?” Helen asked mockingly, “You must have pissed a river!”

“Almost,” Moonglow said without embarrassment, “Girls, this is Franco.”

“Oh Mr Francis,” said Amanda, “You were wonderful, but you must be thirsty after that show. Can I get you something to wet your lips?”

Before Franco could reply, Moonglow answered, “I’ve seen to that already. But I need a glass of wine. I think there’s something stuck in my throat.”

 


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