"O romeo, wherefore art thou romeo?" We were in the park watching a performance of Shakespeare's "Romeo & Juliet", the star-crossed lovers. I was there with my boyfriend, Tyler, picnicing on the grass. We sat close, surrounded, by about three-hundred fans. We were eating crab legs with white wine. The sun beat down. I beat down on Tyler's meat, slipping my hand into his baggy shorts. The baseball-hat peak protected his neck; it was hot; this play made me hot. It'd been a dream of mine to stage or at least see a gay version. After all it'd mean going back to the original where all the girls were played by youths and boys. Of course to keep it contemporary, every body would be naked. To keep the costume designer happy they could wear bits of flimsy clothes, as long as they kept their chests, bellies, butts, balls and peckers visible. The characters, with figures of athletic ballet dancers could wear masks if it was sexy. And in Romeo's and Tybalt's fight scene, instead of a sword fight, they could wrestle, in muddy pools, the winner could buttfuck the other and then strangle him. I must have squeezed too hard on Tyler's boner, so hard he yelped his annoyance. I apologised, of course. He pushed my head down into his lap, covering it with a towel, undid his fly, let me suck his floppy cock. He froze as I blew him; not wanting our neighbors to notice what we were doing. He would wince and squirm as I pumped his delicious man-meat.
To cover us further the crowd applauded the end of the scene where Juliet confesses her love. My version, Romeo would be giving a blowjob to Juliet, he wearing a turquoise shirt, open at the waist revealing a pinkwhite butt, jiggling gold ribbons, as he moved his ass back and forth. Tyler managed to cum, as the crowd rose to his feet. As I took my head from beneath the towel. I grinned broadly, and clapped loudly as if the applause was meant for me. An old lady gave me a queer stare. "Yes, ma'm that is an ice-cream mustache on my upper lip!" I thought
as I lapped up the milky goo. As the play continued, the sky grew darker and the fog began to roll in. It had gotten colder and so we'd slipped beneath the blanket we'd brought. Tyler slipped off his shorts, I slipped up his T shirt and
ran my nails down his spine, like chalk on black-board, slid down, patted his ass and slipped some cum into his ass as a lube. My dick, I parked hot-dog fashion between his buns. Tyler has this funny thing he does, he ripples his ass when I'm in this position. We watched in a mirror once. If we had it on tape we could send it to "America's Funniest Videos", if they showed that kind of stuff. He let me slide into his fuck hole ,easing on gradually. We didn't fuck, it'd have to get darker, for that. He just liked to sometimes, feel me inside him, squeezing me with his anal walls every time my penis would twitch. We'd got to the part of the play where Romeo shows up at Friar Lawrence's place. In my version I'd cast him as a catholic priest who was regularily sodomizing his choir. Maybe Romeo had been an ex-member of the choir, which explained what was going on, center-stage, in my fantasy version. The moon broke through a fog-cloud, and hid again. The time was right as I slowwly bumped and grinded, humping Tyler's ass. I moved in and out, back and forth, round and round as we lay on our sides watching the stage. I moved strongly and firmly, my hardon filling his butt. We can fuck like this for a long time, I know, 'cos we've practiced. He was loving every minute as I cuddled and stroked his pretty dick.
Again undercover of the audience's applause, I came in his ass, bucking and broncing. His asshole, a rose, I pollinated, bee-stinging him with sex. We slipped our pants back on, rolled up the blanket and mingled, exiting with the crowd after the encores. You might be shocked at our behaviour, not using condom's and stuff. But we ve both been diagnosed positive, not long to live. But remember that 'to die' in Shakespeare's day meant 'make love'. This could be our last summer, but we're going out sucking and fucking. The sadness will come betimes.
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