CONFESSION — I Auditioned Her Naked

So, I gotta tell you about this thing that went down last semester. I’m still kinda reeling from it, honestly, and I just need to get it off my chest. I don’t even know if I should be admitting this on the internet, but screw it, here we are. It’s about me and this girl, Lila, from my college theater group. She auditioned for the lead in our play, nervous as hell, completely naked—well, almost—and I was there, watching, with a damn vibrator in my hand. Yeah, I know how that sounds. Stick with me, though.

It started in the kitchen of this old campus house we used for rehearsals. Not some cozy, cute kitchen either. This place was a beast of its own—dingy yellow tiles, a sink that always smelled faintly of mold, and a flickering bulb overhead that made everything feel like a damn interrogation room. The air was thick, like it was pressing down on you, humid and stale, with this weird vibe that made you wanna do something reckless just to shake it off. We’d been using the space for late-night script reads, and that night, it was just me and Lila, running lines for the big spring production.

I’m not gonna lie, I’d had a thing for Lila since freshman year. She was this quiet, artsy type, always doodling in the margins of her notebook, but when she spoke, it was like she’d thought about every word for a week. And her body—man, I can’t not mention it. She had these curves that just didn’t quit, especially up top. Her chest was the kind of full that made you do a double-take, even when she was wearing baggy hoodies to hide it. That night, though, she wasn’t hiding much. She showed up in this flimsy tank top, no bra, and I swear the kitchen light was doing me no favors, catching every outline.

Anyway, we’re sitting there at this rickety table, scripts open, and she’s fidgeting like crazy. “I’m so not ready for this audition tomorrow,” she says, twirling a pen between her fingers. “I’m gonna choke, Nat. I know it.”

“You’re not gonna choke,” I tell her, leaning back in my chair, trying to play it cool even though I’m already distracted by how her top keeps slipping off one shoulder. “You’ve got the lines down. You just need to loosen up.”

She laughs, this sharp little bark. “Loosen up? I’m wound so tight I could snap. I can’t even sleep lately.”

That’s when I smirk, because I’ve got an idea, and I’m half-joking but also half-serious. “You know what helps with nerves? Getting out of your head. Like, way out. You ever… distract yourself?” I let the word hang there, loaded as hell.

Lila raises an eyebrow, catching on quick. “Distract myself how, exactly?” Her voice has this teasing lilt now, like she’s daring me to say it.

I shrug, playing it off, but my heart’s already picking up speed. “I dunno. A little personal time. Works for me before a big presentation.”

She snorts, but her cheeks go pink. “You’re telling me to go home and… what, take care of business? That’s your big advice?”

“Nah,” I say, leaning forward now, elbows on the table, lowering my voice like we’re sharing a secret. “I’m saying maybe you need to shake things up right here. Get the jitters out before tomorrow. I’ve got something that might help, actually.” I’m grinning now, because I know I’m pushing it, but she’s not shutting me down.

Her eyes narrow, but she’s smiling too, just a little. “What, you got a magic potion in your bag or something?”

“Better,” I say, and I reach into my backpack under the table, pulling out this little black case. I pop it open, and there’s my favorite toy—a sleek, purple vibrator, small enough to be discreet but powerful as hell. I set it on the table between us, casual as if I’m offering her a pen. “This thing’s a game-changer. Never fails to clear my head.”

Lila stares at it, then at me, and for a second I think I’ve gone too far. But then she bursts out laughing, covering her mouth. “You’re insane. You just carry that around?”

“Always be prepared,” I say with a wink. “So, what do you think? Wanna give it a test run? I can coach you through it. Director’s orders.”

She’s still laughing, but there’s this spark in her eye now, like she’s actually considering it. “You’re not serious. We’re in a gross-ass kitchen, Nat. I’m not… buzzing myself right here.”

“Why not?” I challenge, keeping my tone light but firm, like I’m daring her. “No one’s around. Door’s locked. And you said you’re too tense to function. I’m just saying, I’ve seen you act. You’ve got the talent. But you gotta let go of that stage fright somehow.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, glancing at the toy, then back at me. “You’re a terrible influence, you know that?”

“Guilty,” I say, pushing the vibrator an inch closer to her across the table. “But I’m also right. Come on, Lila. Live a little. It’s just us.”

There’s this long pause, the air in the kitchen getting heavier, that damn bulb flickering like it’s egging us on. Then she reaches out, hesitates, and finally picks it up, turning it over in her hands. “Fine,” she mutters, half to herself. “But if I’m doing this, you’re not just sitting there watching like a creep. You’re in this with me.”

My stomach flips, but I play it cool, nodding. “Deal. I’m your coach, remember? Gotta make sure you’re doing it right.”

She rolls her eyes but stands up, and before I can process it, she’s tugging that tank top over her head, letting it drop to the floor. Holy hell, I was not ready for the full view. Her breasts are even more incredible bare—heavy, round, with these tight little peaks that make my mouth go dry. She catches me staring and smirks. “Eyes up, coach. You’re supposed to be helping, not drooling.”

I laugh, shaking it off, but I’m already feeling the heat creeping up my neck. “Alright, smartass. Sit back down. Let’s get you relaxed for that audition.”

She sits, still topless, holding the toy like she’s not sure what to do next. I lean in, voice dropping lower. “Turn it on. Low setting first. Just feel it out.”

She fumbles with the button, and the soft hum fills the kitchen, cutting through the quiet. She glances at me, nervous but game, and I nod. “Go on. Start slow. Right where you need it.”

Her breath catches as she presses it against herself, over her shorts at first, and I can see her shoulders tense, then loosen a bit. “Okay,” she murmurs. “This is… weird but not bad.”

“See? Told you,” I say, watching her face, the way her lips part just a little. “Now imagine you’re on stage tomorrow, owning it. No nerves, just you and the spotlight. Crank it up a notch.”

She does, twisting the dial, and a small gasp slips out. I’m trying to keep my cool, but watching her—those curves shifting as she adjusts in the chair, her chest rising and falling faster—it’s doing things to me. I scoot closer, my knee brushing hers under the table. “How’s it feeling now?”

“Better,” she admits, voice a little shaky. “But I’m still… I dunno, self-conscious. You’re just staring.”

“Want me to even the playing field?” I ask, and before she can answer, I’m peeling off my own shirt, tossing it aside. I’m not nearly as stacked as she is, but her eyes flick over me anyway, and I catch the appreciation there. “Better?”

She nods, a shy grin sneaking out. “Yeah. Okay, coach. What’s the next step?”

I’m buzzing with adrenaline now, the air between us crackling. “Lose the shorts. Get comfy. Let’s make sure you’re really ready for tomorrow.”

She hesitates, then stands again, shimmying out of her shorts and underwear in one go, leaving her completely bare. I’m trying not to gawk, but damn, she’s gorgeous—soft thighs, a little patch of dark hair, and that chest still front and center. She sits back down, vibrator in hand, and looks at me expectantly. “Your turn. Fair’s fair.”

I don’t argue. I strip down quick, kicking my jeans and everything else to the floor, and now it’s just us, naked in this grimy kitchen, the hum of the toy the only sound for a moment. I lean in, close enough to feel the heat off her skin. “Alright, Lila. Show me how you’re feeling that stage confidence now.”

She presses the toy back against herself, under the table this time, and her head tips back a little, a soft sound escaping her throat. I can’t help it—I reach out, brushing my fingers along her arm, testing the waters. She doesn’t pull away, so I slide my hand up, over her shoulder, then down, cupping one of those amazing breasts. It’s heavy in my palm, warm, and I thumb over the peak, feeling it stiffen.

“Fuck, Nat,” she breathes, her hips shifting in the chair. “That’s… distracting in a good way.”

“Good,” I say, voice rough now. “Keep going. Let me help.” I’m kneading her now, both hands on her, marveling at how soft yet firm she is, while she works the toy below. Her breathing’s getting ragged, little whimpers slipping out, and I’m losing it, the ache between my own legs getting unbearable.

“Gimme that for a sec,” I say, and she hands me the vibrator, slick and warm from her. I don’t even think—I press it against myself, just for a moment, needing some relief, and the jolt of it makes me groan. She watches, eyes wide, and then she’s leaning in, kissing me hard, her tongue pushing into my mouth like she’s been waiting for this as long as I have.

It’s messy, desperate, her hands grabbing at me while mine are still full of her. I pull back just enough to mutter, “Stand up. I wanna try something.” She does, and I nudge her back against the counter, the cold edge probably biting into her skin, but she doesn’t care. I drop to my knees, the tile hard under me, and I’m face-to-face with her, the scent of her hitting me like a drug. I drag the buzzing toy up her thigh, teasing, then press it right where she’s slickest, watching her legs tremble.

“Nat, holy shit,” she gasps, hands in my hair, pulling a little. “Don’t stop doing that.”

I don’t. I work it in slow circles, then faster, while my other hand grips her hip, keeping her steady. Her chest is heaving above me, bouncing with every sharp breath, and I can’t resist—I lean up, taking one nipple into my mouth, sucking hard while the toy does its work below. She’s loud now, not caring who might hear, and it’s driving me wild.

It doesn’t take long. Her whole body locks up, a choked cry tearing out of her as she shakes through it, clinging to me like she’ll fall otherwise. I ease off, switching the toy to low, just letting her ride out the aftershocks. When she finally catches her breath, she looks down at me, dazed but grinning. “Okay, yeah. I’m… definitely less nervous now.”

I laugh, standing up, my own body still screaming for more, but I’m not pushing it. “Told you. You’re gonna kill that audition tomorrow.”

She’s still catching her breath, leaning against the counter, all flushed and gorgeous. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Back at you,” I say, wiping my hands on a nearby dish towel like this is the most normal thing in the world. We’re both still naked, the kitchen air cooling our skin, and for a second we just stand there, grinning like idiots. But I know we can’t stay like this forever. I start pulling my clothes back on, and she does the same, a little slower, like she’s still processing.

“Guess I should head out,” she says finally, once she’s dressed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Got an early morning. Gotta be rested to crush that stage, right?”

“Right,” I say, watching her head for the door. There’s no weirdness, no drama—just this shared, crazy thing we did, and now it’s done. For now, at least. She gives me a little wave, steps out into the night, and the door clicks shut behind her. I’m left standing there in the dim kitchen, the hum of that damn bulb overhead, wondering if I just dreamed the whole thing.