“What’s in a name? That which we call ‘Dr Jonathan Marshall’ by any other name would smell as sweet.” Dr Marshall’s hunky, hunky man smell was as sweet as a clear day after rain.
The heat from the limelight was never so strong as it was in a Dr Marshall class. Supporting the arts had never been easier, and I found myself turning up for class religiously, just so I could sit and marvel at your ability to flawlessly deliver your material on theatre history with such intensity. The passionate tension in the room at every class was a strong as the build-up in a melodramatic period drama, and I found myself almost bursting at the seams. My bosom heaving at the very sight of you, I had to try and regulate my breathing just so that we could endure the two hour lesson.
As I tried to focus on my work, I couldn’t help but imagine myself as Juliet and you as my Romeo. Some days my urges were so strong, I wanted nothing more than to strip off all my clothes and offer up an artistic interpretive dance, just for your benefit. Like star-crossed lovers, our world was the stage, and the theatre, a vessel in which our love could blossom (and all that jazz). I often daydream about what you do behind the scenes, after hours. Perhaps you put on your dancing shoes whilst wearing a pair of ballet tights where the bulge leaves little to the imagination. Perhaps you sit at home and think of me, as I often do you. My ultimate fantasy involves you taking me roughly on the Broadway stage. If this isn’t possible, then I will happily settle for The Civic theatre in Auckland. Your artistic passion really gets my creativity flowing and I find myself wanting to demonstrate this in a way that would not be considered classroom-appropriate.
If you don’t have any interest in my talent as a thespian, or as a woman, then simply tell me, and I will exit stage left – no questions asked. If however, you do feel that special something for me, then lead me to your dressing room where we can perform intimate costume changes and exchange romantic lines from Byron himself. Above all else, you should know that I long for nothing more than to be your leading lady. Perhaps if your wife or girlfriend does not approve, then I could just stand in as her understudy, performing when she is not available.
Dr Marshall, “Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May … but thy eternal sex appeal shall not fade.”
— Theatrical Temptress
LILF | Issue 9
