#3006: Plovdiv, Bulgaria
Original photo: @daviduzochukwu
Penka is an actress at the Drama Theater of Plovdiv. Her roles are small, and she assumes they go unnoticed by the audience. But she is wrong. She has gained a devoted admirer—one enchanted by her talent—whose admiration soon turns into something deeper.
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Transcript
Backstage, I stood waiting for my cue, listening to the performance unfolding before me. The heavy layers of my costume clung to my skin, heat gathering beneath the fabric, but I ignored the discomfort. My focus was elsewhere. Theater was not just my job—it was my life. And when I stepped onto the stage, I had to give my best, not only to entertain but also to be noticed. An actress is nothing if she does not capture attention.
My role in this production was small, as it often was. Having worked in the theater for only a few years, I had yet to land a leading part. But I held onto hope—one day, I would be the one at the center of the stage, basking in the audience’s admiration. Until then, I had to be grateful for the opportunities I had, no matter how minor.
Finally, it was my turn. Adopting the right expression, I stepped onto the stage. As always, a surge of excitement coursed through me. There was no experience like it—becoming someone else before a crowd, inhabiting a new character while still remaining, in some way, myself. I delivered my lines with precision, confident in my performance. The audience, however, barely seemed to notice me.
Except for one person.
Seated in the front row, Bogdan watched me intently, a warm smile on his face, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. It wasn’t the first time he had done this, and each time, his gesture filled me with unexpected joy.
I first noticed him a year after I began working at the theater. At the end of every performance, when the audience members approached the stage with flowers, the bouquets were almost always given to the lead actors. I never expected to receive anything.
But then, Bogdan appeared. He walked up to me, complimented my performance, and handed me flowers. That night, I felt something I had never felt before—I had been seen.
From that day forward, he never missed a premiere. He always brought flowers.
At first, I was wary. I feared there would be expectations attached to his gestures, that he might want something in return. But I was wrong. His only intention was to make me feel special.
Our interactions were brief at first—a few words exchanged on stage, nothing more. But soon, he began waiting for me at the back entrance, walking me home after performances. Still, he never crossed any boundaries, never touched me without permission. I appreciated that.
I had started to feel something for him—an attraction that had been growing steadily. Until now, we had only shared kisses, lingering moments of tenderness. But tonight, I planned to change that.
Backstage, I could barely contain my anticipation. The performance was drawing to a close, and I was eager to leave. The final words of the play were spoken, applause erupted, and we all stepped forward for our bows. As always, Bogdan approached me, handing me another bouquet.
I smiled, knowing I would see him again soon.
After changing out of my costume, I barely acknowledged my colleagues' teasing about my love life. Let them talk. I knew my night would be far better than theirs. I let my hair down, left the flowers behind, and nearly ran to the back entrance.
As expected, Bogdan was there, waiting. He took my hand as we walked to my apartment, offering genuine compliments about my performance. I could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it filled me with warmth.
When we reached my door, I invited him in for tea, though we both knew that was never the plan.
The moment he stepped inside, I considered prolonging the pretense—continuing polite conversation, acting as though I wasn’t already imagining him in my bed. But I lacked the patience for it. Without hesitation, I led him into the living room, his confused questions fading as he realized what I truly wanted.
We sat close, the heat between us building. There was no need for words. Understanding passed between us in a shared glance, and then we were embracing, lips meeting in a slow, tentative kiss.
It started gently, the careful exploration of two people crossing an unspoken boundary. But soon, the moment overtook us. The kiss deepened, passion igniting as our hands roamed, slipping beneath fabric, discovering bare skin.
Surprisingly, it was Bogdan who took the lead. I had expected him to be shy, hesitant. But I had underestimated him.
Lowering himself to the floor in front of me, he gazed up, his eyes dark with desire. His hands slid beneath my dress, fingertips tracing my thighs until they reached the waistband of my panties. He paused, seeking permission, and I nodded, a slow smile spreading across my lips.
His fingers hooked under the delicate fabric, drawing it down my legs with deliberate care. My breath quickened, the heat between us intensifying.
Once the barrier was gone, he gently parted my legs. I gathered the fabric of my dress, lifting it to give him better access. My body ached for his touch, every nerve alight with anticipation.
Bogdan lowered his head, his breath warm against my skin. A shiver ran through me as he hesitated for a moment, teasing me with the promise of what was to come.
Then, his tongue flicked against me, slow and teasing.
A whimper escaped my lips. He was taking his time, exploring me with careful precision, but it wasn’t enough. My body trembled, desperate for more.
Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled him closer. He took the hint, his mouth working against me with more intensity. The flat of his tongue pressed against my clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing over me. My back arched, a moan spilling from my lips as I rolled my hips against his mouth.
One hand moved to my breasts, teasing my hardened nipples, amplifying the pleasure building inside me.
Bogdan sucked harder, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, driving me closer to the edge. Then, without warning, he pushed his tongue inside me.
A sharp gasp left me as pleasure overwhelmed every sense. He worked me expertly, pushing me higher, his hands gripping my thighs as though to steady me. My body tensed, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.
A strangled cry left my lips as my release tore through me, leaving me trembling and breathless.
When he finally pulled away, he looked up at me with a satisfied smile. He knew exactly what he had done to me. And he was proud of it.
His hands caressed my thighs as he asked if I felt good. There was no need to lie—he already knew the answer.
A soft laugh escaped him, his gaze filled with warmth. It was clear he liked me. Maybe even loved me.
And I knew, without a doubt, that I wanted more.
I told him to sit back and relax. He was more than happy to oblige.
Unzipping his pants, I freed his cock, already hard and eager. I stroked him slowly, watching the way his expression shifted, how his breath hitched. Smiling, I reached for a condom, rolling it onto him with practiced ease.
Straddling his hips, I pressed my slick heat against his length, teasing him just as he had teased me. His expression was almost desperate now, his need for me undeniable.
Lifting my dress over my head, I discarded it, revealing my bare breasts. His gaze darkened with desire.
Taking him in my hand, I guided him inside me, savoring the stretch as I sank down onto him. A deep moan left us both as I began to move, our bodies fitting together perfectly.
Bogdan gripped my hips, matching my rhythm, thrusting deeper with each movement. Our breaths mingled, the heat between us growing unbearable.
Faster. Harder. Closer.
The climax hit us both with undeniable force.
As I lay against him, breathless and sated, one thought filled my mind.
I wanted more.
And I wanted Bogdan to stay.