To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

Shakespeare had always entranced him. The language was so rich; the possibilities for interpretation were so deep. There was magic in the words; poetry in the telling of the tale. That so many modern stories mimicked the basic plots of Shakespeare’s plays, especially Romeo and Juliet, made perfect sense. Miss Fine getting cast as Juliet, however, defied explanation. That voice! It was just not made for the stage. Maxwell considered the dichotomy, and decided that it didn’t really matter – even today, hardly a week into the rehearsals and with Miss Fine getting her lines all wrong – she’d infused her own brand of romance into the part. And, she’d won him over; bowled him over, really.

When he uttered his lines, “Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!” he’d meant every single word.

Then, they’d kissed. It wasn’t the first time; there’d been that brief, if perhaps ill-conceived, kiss when Miss Fine had managed to be interviewed about his play, which had been in such danger of getting bad reviews from Frank Bradley. That was a kiss of gratitude; somewhat spurred by instinct. Maxwell hadn’t known what’d come over him. He wasn’t prone to those kinds of public displays of affection; nor private ones, either, come to think of it.

Today’s kiss had little to do with gratitude; and it was all about instinct. This time, he knew very well what had come over him: Fran Fine. It’d been so natural; a perfectly normal expression of the chemistry they were experiencing in acting out the romance of the star crossed lovers. There was an undeniable attraction between them; Maxwell had read scenes with CC dozens of times, even romantic ones, and they’d never even been close to kissing!

Kissing Miss Fine was simply electric. No, it was heavenly. Tender, yet brimming with passion. Maxwell hadn’t felt that kind of physical draw to someone in years. There was something so very unique about Miss Fine that intrigued him – attracted him. And now, with that kiss on his mind, he could hardly sleep for all the memories of it playing in his thoughts. Not just memories, but fantasies. What if no one had been home and they’d been alone?

What if? Maxwell wondered as he drifted to sleep, a smile on his face, and Miss Fine awaiting him in his dreams.

In his mind, Maxwell replayed their lips coming together, touching and caressing. Then, as in a dream, he suddenly saw them not on the stairs, separated by the banister, but together in his office, perhaps – the location was unclear, and it didn’t really make any difference – as long as they were alone. The moment would’ve been allowed to continue – to draw out into an impossibly long embrace and kiss. His arms wrapping around her body, bringing her close to him. Her lips, luscious and pliant beneath his searing, desirous kiss…

Fran moaned into his mouth as he lapped his tongue against hers, gaining access to the recesses of her mouth and exploring with abandon. Passion taking over his powers of higher reasoning and logic, Max framed her face with his hands in an effort to hold her closer to him – to keep her where he needed her.

She tasted divine – like chocolate and champagne, and everything else decadent and luxurious. Everything about her was lush – her hair, her lips, her tongue as it wound around his, tasting him and tempting him with its motions.

Fran molded her body to his; arching into his lean frame, she could feel his desire for her, evident in the way his quickly-engorging cock was pressing against her. Pulling him harder to her, Fran’s hands squeezed his butt cheeks, and the result was just what she’d hoped – Max ground his pelvis into hers and, from the contact, they both uttered groans of sexual tension and anticipation.

Heavy breathing filled the room; Max took advantage of her breathlessness, and kissed his way from her mouth to her jaw-line, and then to her neck, where he paused to suck and nibble at a spot just below her ear. Fran felt her legs grow weak from the sensations of sexual pleasure that spread like a warm wave from where his mouth touched her bare skin. Wrapping a leg high around his thigh, Fran pressed her mound onto his muscular leg and felt the pleasure from it – her inside passage already prepared and wet.

Making use of his hands, Max caressed her waist, spread his palms out to span the sides of her hips, and, finally, slid them upwards to meet the curve of the underside of her breasts. The firm, roundness that met his touch set his mind reeling. He’d only recently begun thinking of her in this physical, sexual context, but, touching her this way now, felt like he’d been longing for it forever.

Relishing every single nuance in the way he was handling her, Fran’s breath caught in her throat when his fingers traced the hardened tips of her nipples. She could feel the slight tremble in his hands, and the fact that he was either shaking from nerves or barely-restrained desire made her want him all the more. Leaning into his touch, she encouraged Max to grasp more firmly at her figure. And he obliged readily…

Suddenly, the obstacles of clothing and location were easily dispensed with, and Maxwell’s dream now spirited them to his bed – his large, empty bed…

His bed had been unused for anything but sleep for so long. The mattress was even new, since he’d been widowed, and Max almost chuckled at how much he was looking forward to “christening” it.

Fran’s naked form covered his own, as he lay back on the cool sheets. Her smaller frame balanced on his body, his hands holding her in place atop him. They relished the feel of skin on skin, and their legs intertwined and caressed one another in slow, rhythmic motions.

Rolling to one side, Fran explored her new lover’s body with her hands and lips – discovering sensitive spots, nipping at them, then soothing the tiny bites with suckling, soft kisses. Max lay back and allowed himself to simply relish the attention, which Fran so freely and lovingly bestowed. His libido was being driven absolutely mad; through the roof, and, eventually, to the breaking point.

Fran’s impeccably manicured nails raked over his chest and down to his groin, where she shifted her tactics to a more delicate, yet purposeful, touch. Max arched his hips into her strokes, turned his head to the side, and moaned out his pleasure.

Content to be passive for only a short time, Max turned his attentions to Fran. Sitting up and reaching down to gently grasp her hands away from him, he urged her up to kiss him.

“Oh, Mr. Sheffield!” she squealed, and Max grinned as their lips met in a crushing kiss.

Wild abandon drove Max, and he deftly flipped Fran over to lay his body over hers. Between kisses, he gasped, “Fran, you’re absolutely delightful.”

Pressing his erection into her hip, Fran wound a leg around one of his and squeezed, extracting her own electrical zing of sexual energy. Max tangled his fingers in her wildly strewn tresses while he rained kisses across her face, returning over and over again to her lips, where he nibbled and sucked, first on her top lip, then on the bottom.

Fran sighed and breathed deep, drawing out the pleasure Max was eliciting. Not content with his here-and-there kisses, Fran grasped a handful of his thick head of hair and guided his mouth to hers, and held it there. Snaking her tongue out to meet his, they dove into one another with deep, wet kisses that couldn’t be distinguished from one to the next.

Max’s hand caressed down her torso, delightfully toying and pinching at a nipple, before questing farther down to meet the tight curls of hair at the juncture of her legs. Once there, he tenderly plied her slick folds and slipped a searching finger inside her. The effect was instantaneous – Fran cried out and rocked against his palm, her inner muscles clenching around his finger.

After giving her a chance to catch her breath, but no longer able to wait a moment longer to fully have this fantastically sexy woman, Max shifted his weight to nestle between Fran’s slender legs, which she wrapped around his waist, encouraging his cock to nudge its way into her passage. Moving slowly, he, at last, was fully seated within her, and had to close his eyes to gather his wits before proceeding.

Fran rocked her hips to demand his movement and attention. Max looked into her eyes and bent to kiss her softly as he began to thrust into her, gathering speed and increasing in intensity as the moments passed. Fran drove him to the brink with her moans and mewls of pleasure, spurring him on, and filling him with such passion to pleasure her; and himself.

His thrusts grew erratic, and, in the freedom he felt with Fran, Max loudly growled his climax just as he felt her muscles gripping him hard in a second orgasm. Bodies clinging together, sweaty and spent, they basked in the hot, sticky afterglow…

Awaking with a start, Maxwell was breathing hard; the dream was vividly clear in his mind, the evidence of it was sticky at his groin, and he softly mumbled, “To sleep, perchance to dream.”

END