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Thursday, 12 June 2014

Free Read: Lipstick

Lipstick

It's
almost six thirty before Christian reaches his own dressing room. He's whiled
away an hour between performances, drinking coffee and talking to a couple
other members of the cast. Now it's time to go back to work.

This
is one of Christian's favourite parts of the whole experience. The hour before
he steps out under the lights, as he transforms himself into his latest
character. Of course, there is a very good reason why Christian loves it so
much, but he's not here yet.

Christian
changes into his figure-hugging scarlet costume for the start of the show. It's
an energetic role and Christian goes to the gym every day to keep fit. He
wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he's in amazing shape and the costume
really accentuates his long legs and narrow waist. There's another reason he
likes it so much. With the high-heeled shoes, he's a little taller than his
boyfriend. Yeah, he likes that reason plenty.

Wearing
a blue bathrobe over his costume, he sits in his dressing room, patiently
applying the make-up needed under the strong lights of the theatre. Christian's
become an expert at applying the layers of foundation and powder, covering his
pale skin and freckles until he can see the mask of his character over his
face. It's the part of the long process that will end with Zaza stepping out on
stage, Christian Ellis left far behind at the dressing room door.

Fumbling
around on the table, he finds the lip liner, carefully outlining his full lips,
and then starts to brush the crimson lipstick over his bottom lip. He doesn't
notice he's not alone until there's a hand at his back and another one turning
his face to plant a kiss on his painted mouth. Christian hums contentedly into
the kiss, provoking an answering murmur.

"You
taste horrible," his boyfriend says against Christian's mouth, but it
doesn't stop him going back for another kiss, his tongue licking at the painted
lips to sweep into Christian's welcoming mouth.

Christian
chuckles and pulls Tyler in for another kiss. "So do you, now," he
points out smugly and moves so that Tyler is trapped between his legs,
wriggling slightly to press his hardening cock against one of Tyler's thighs.
Tyler obliges by pushing against him, letting Christian relieve some of the
pressure.

Large
hands sneak under Christian's bathrobe to grasp his thighs. Christian can feel
the warmth of Tyler's hands bleeding through the fishnet tights to his shaved
legs. Tyler really likes Christian's
smooth, shaved legs. Christian found it difficult to walk for a week after the
first time Tyler saw Christian in stockings and high heels. He's been fucked
against every surface in their apartment since then in those heels. Christian
just loves the fact Tyler can manhandle him.

Tyler's
hands slide around Christian's ass and pull him up against the large chest.
Christian sinks against his boyfriend, wanting to burrow his face in Tyler's
neck but he's just done his face and he doesn't want to smear it against Tyler
before the performance. Afterwards is another matter.

"You're
so fucking hot," Tyler growls roughly against his ear. "Do we have
time for me to show you just how hot?"

Christian
pulls back, smiling at the red lipstick stained across Tyler's lips and chin.
So much for not smearing his make-up.

"I
have a show to do," he chides gently. "I have to be able to do things
on stage -- like dance, or even walk. I think they're going to notice if I can't
walk straight."

He
runs a thumb across the crimson stain but only succeeds in spreading it
farther. Tyler bites down on his thumb and then sucks it in. Christian holds
his breath as he looks at Tyler's stained mouth around his digit, sucking in a
parody of fucking. Christian moans loudly and his hips buck into Tyler's; he
feels rather than hears the answering moan around his thumb. His other hand
tugs on Tyler's brown hair pulling him off with an obscene pop. His boyfriend's
mouth is still smeared in red -- his not-so-secret obsession with Christian's
mouth clearly displayed for the world to see.

"Suck
my cock! We have time for that," Christian demands imperiously, pushing
Tyler back so he can get his robe open. Tyler smirks at Christian's impatience
but allows himself to be moved so that Christian can tear open his bath robe,
revealing the scarlet showgirl's dress, trimmed with matching feathers.

Tyler
raises one eyebrow as he's faced with Christian's drag costume. "Can I get
near your cock? That dress is worse than a fucking chastity belt. Where do I
start?" He always complains, but Christian knows just how much Tyler loves
watching him strip out of his dress.

Christian
stands up and shimmies out of the costume, leaving him standing in high heels
and fishnet tights. He looks down at Tyler who is still kneeing at his feet and
it's his turn to smirk. Oh yeah, it never fails. Tyler's leaning back now,
staring up at Christian's half naked body with something like awe, his huge
muscled thighs parted wide and a definite tent in the front of his pants.
Christian lifts one high heel-clad foot and presses gently on the bulge, biting
his bottom lip as Tyler sucks in his breath.

"Yes?"
Christian asks, falsely innocent -- or not. He resists the temptation to bat
his eyelashes. Christian finds himself pinned against the table, the edge
digging into his ass as Tyler presses his face into Christian's groin. The
make-up scatters behind them, a tube of foundation rolling off the table to
land under the chair, but neither of them pay any attention.

Tyler
raises his head and Christian's mouth goes dry. Fuck! Tyler's got that look in
his eye which can only spell trouble for Christian. The last time Tyler'd worn
that expression... Christian shivered. He'd felt it for a week. The raw ache in
his ass every time he moved and the instant hard-on every single time he’d
thought about Tyler’s aggression.

"Tyler..."
Now it's his turn to issue a warning. He cannot go on stage freshly fucked by
Tyler, no matter how much they're both desperate for it.

"I'm
gonna blow you now," Tyler announces as if Christian hasn't spoken. He
runs his hands up from the shoes with their killer heels to Christian's ass.
"And then you're gonna reapply that lipstick and blow me so I can see
those slutty, red lips around my cock."

"Watch
me," Tyler mutters and he yanks down the tights and the tight briefs.
Christian's cock springs free and almost slaps Tyler in the face. Christian
would laugh, but Tyler doesn't give him time as he sinks over Christian's cock
and swallows it whole. Maybe he should think of a mocking remark, but he is getting a blowjob. The blood isn't
rushing upstairs at this point.

"Damn,
you're so fucking good at this." Christian states the obvious as he leans
back against the table, resisting the urge to buck up into Tyler's mouth only
by sheer force of will.

Tyler
pulls off and gives him a quizzical look. "You're still talking in whole
sentences? I must be doing something wrong." He takes Christian's dick in
his hand and slips his mouth over the head, his tongue probing the slit, making
Christian groan even louder. Tyler stops again and grins, ignoring Christian's
glare. "That's more like it. You're sounding like a man getting blown
now."

"Stop
again and I'll..." Christian doesn't complete his empty threat because
Tyler tries a new and very dirty trick, shouldering in to spread Christian's
thighs and sucking at his balls. The bastard knows just how much Christian
loves him doing that and even with the tights around his legs Tyler's really
going for it. Christian is left gasping, white-knuckled against the table.

His
boyfriend plays him like a fine musical instrument, knowing just how to draw out
the bitten back sounds of a man who is trying so hard not to alert the whole
building that he is being fucked by an expert. Christian keens as Tyler licks
up the shaft of his dick, only just managing to hold back the howl as Tyler's
tongue presses against the nerves just under the head. If they were at home,
Tyler would be encouraging him to 'Let it go, baby,' but here Tyler just smirks
around Christian's cock at his restraint, and dives in for another attack.

Christian's
flushed as red as his lipstick, the muscles in his thighs trembling as he
watches Tyler suck in the head of his dick and then pause, deliberately looking
up to make sure Christian is watching. It's one of Tyler's quirks. He has to
know Christian is fine with what Tyler is doing, so he stops every now and then
to check and the bastard just won't move until Christian gives him the okay. Of
course, the fact it drives Christian mad is something that Tyler enjoys far too
much.

Nerve-ends
screaming with the anticipation of release, Christian meets Tyler's eyes,
half-obscured by messy hair. He nods just once and holds on for the ride.
Tyler doesn't waste any time, screwing down over the head and down the shaft,
his tongue fluttering against the top of Christian's cock. He pulls back and
goes down again, over and over, swallowing Christian until Tyler's nose is
buried against his clipped pubes.

Christian
is beyond speech, beyond thinking about anything except the sweet desire to
empty his balls down Tyler's throat. He's got his hands clenched in Tyler's
hair, his mouth making half-formed guttural sounds and any second now he's
gonna be... there... Christian's back arches painfully, driving him deeper into
Tyler's mouth and he's coming hard enough his ears are ringing. Jesus fuck!

He
can feel Tyler's throat working around him, trying to not to choke against the
sudden rush of come in his mouth. Christian tries to pull back, to give Tyler a
chance to swallow and catch his breath, but his boyfriend refuses to budge,
keeping him in place with his long fingers digging into Christian's hips. Tyler
milks him through his orgasm, only letting him go when the sensation on his
nerves is too much and Christian hisses.

Tyler
lets Christian's softening cock slip out of his mouth with a last kiss. He sits
back on his haunches and looks up at Christian, deliberately licking his lips.
Christian may have had his words sucked out of his cock, but his dick still
twitches and Tyler gives a smug chuckle. He shifts restlessly and Christian can
see he's still hard under the restraint of his zip.

"Your
turn?" Christian asks, and rubs the sole of his foot over Tyler's erection
again.

"My
turn," Tyler moans softly, "but I'm going to dress you first."

"Why
am I not surprised?" Christian asks drily as he wipes himself with a damp
wash cloth. Tyler may be all alpha male but that dress... it brings out a whole
new animal. Christian has a feeling he's gonna be taking it home when the run
has ended. Tyler grins at Christian's long suffering sigh. For all Christian's
complaints, they both know he loves the way his costume reduces his boyfriend
to a quivering heap of testosterone. They're both very predictable.

Being
dressed by Tyler is an exercise in torture. He's all hands and kisses, nibbles
on pulse points, biting and claiming, yet always careful not to leave marks
where they could be visible and have to be covered up with make-up. Tyler tucks
him away in his briefs and then smooths the tights up Christian's legs.
Tyler's hands work the thin mesh up his calves and thighs.

Christian
runs his hand over his calf. "I should have got them waxed," he grumbles.

"We'll
do that soon." Tyler's hands are still way too busy with Christian's ass
to be absolutely necessary.

He
is dressed again in the red dress with the matching feathers, his first outfit
in the show, when the call comes. "Fifteen minutes, Christian."

They
look at each other. Christian starts to drop to his knees -- carefully, he
doesn't want to put a hole in the tights, or worse, get baggy knees. He
shudders at the thought of high kicks with the hosiery flapping around his
calves.

"Wait!"
Tyler hisses and leans back to the table. He returns with a tube and tilts
Christian's face so that he can recoat Christian's lips in scarlet. Tyler's
tongue licks along his own mouth as he reapplies the lipstick. Christian can
smell his breath: mint, spunk, and something sweet sending a direct signal to
Christian's cock.

Christian
is unbuckling Tyler's belt and dragging his jeans down. Tyler's boxers are damp
in the front and Christian wants to suck on the cotton to taste him but lipstick
is a bitch to get out. He contents himself with pulling them down and wrapping
his lips around Tyler's thick cock, humming contentedly as the bittersweet
taste of pre-come sweeps across his tongue.

He
hasn't got time to tease as much as they'd both like. He likes it best when
they're lying together in their bed and he can take an hour to bring Tyler to
climax. Despite the time restraint, he takes a minute to look up at his man.
Tyler is resting against the table, his eyes heavy lidded as he stares down at
the sight of Christian, red-painted mouth around the head of his dick.

"Please,
Chris," Tyler's voice is oddly soft and pleading and one of his hands
comes out to stroke Christian's face, his thumb running over the bulge of his
cock in Christian's cheek.

Christian
sinks a little lower. He can't deep throat like Tyler can but he knows how to
bring his boyfriend off, his mouth leaving lipstick streaks down the shaft as
he licks, his tongue following the thick vein and then flicking over the head.
His hands start up their own rhythm at the base of Tyler's cock, one of them
cupping and squeezing his balls. Unlike everyday life, Tyler is normally
quieter than Christian in bed, but today he is crying out as Christian's mouth,
tongue and hands drive him closer and closer to climax.

Conscious
now of others overhearing them, Christian puts one hand up to Tyler's mouth.
Two crimson polished nails are sucked desperately into Tyler's mouth. Christian
pauses what he's doing to look up at Tyler, but his other hand doesn't stop
pumping Tyler's cock.

"Get
'em good and wet, baby," he says huskily. Dark brown eyes grow wide as
Tyler realizes what Christian intends to do and he sucks at them eagerly,
whimpering all the time.

Christian
is running out of time and he knows it, but Tyler is almost there, his head
flung back as he tries to hold off. Christian needs Tyler's cock back in his
mouth, wants to feel it pulse and spurt as he can't hold back any longer.
Christian slides his finger back and pushes in gently against the ring of
muscle. He presses in, feeling the resistance give way.

Tyler
shouts out and Christian winces a little for the people in the adjoining rooms,
but then it doesn't matter anymore as Tyler's hips buck once, twice and
Christian's mouth is filled with come. He swallows quickly to avoid it running
down his face and ruining his make-up. Next time, Christian promises himself,
Tyler is going to stripe his face and then lick it all off.

Regretfully,
Christian lets Tyler's cock slip out of his mouth to lie flaccid against one
thigh. He kisses it gently, leaving behind another imprint of lipstick. Tyler
is all but collapsed against the table. Getting to his feet, Christian kisses
him, tongue seeking to share their taste. As he goes to pull away, Tyler's hand
slides around the back of Christian's neck, drawing him in to make the kiss
deeper.

"Five
minutes, Christian. Tyler, you put him down now." The resigned voice from
the other side of the door is amused more than anything.

Tyler
laughs into Christian's mouth and kisses him again. There's always time for one
more kiss.

Christian
cleans his teeth and sits down before the table. As he reaches for the
foundation, there's a momentary panic until they find it on the floor under the
chair. He reaches for the sponge to redo his face; no matter how careful he is,
blowjobs always smudge. Tyler stays his hand.

"Let
me," he murmurs and Christian nods, tilting his head back so that Tyler
can restore his face to that of a painted drag queen. He closes his eyes
against the slow strokes of the sponge and the slight tickle of the make-up
brush. Tyler is good at this, better than Christian in fact. Within a couple of
minutes, Christian's face is restored. Tyler helps him on with the wig and
hairpiece, making sure they are secure and kneels to slip the high-heeled shoes
back on Christian's feet. They both check that the tights have survived the
encounter with the floor, Tyler using it as a convenient excuse to grope
Christian's legs again.

Now
he is ready to leave Christian Ellis behind. Standing up, Christian waits while
Tyler slides a clip into one errant curl and then they leave the dressing room
together, hand in hand. As Christian waits for his cue, Tyler slips away to his
regular seat by the stage. Christian knows that at the end of the performance
Tyler will be waiting in his dressing room to undress him, kissing every inch
of skin as it is exposed. It's the way it always is; this director is always there
for his star.