As usual, this story is pure fiction, I have no theatrical experience.
The usual copyright eules apply and all comments are welcomed
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
The curtain dropped to thunderous applause, as usual. My mother and father gave their excellent performance of Romeo and Juliet and the audience loved it, although even they knew that their days of playing the teenage lovers were fast running out. The theatre club my father grandly named "The Olivier Players" had another hit on their hands.
This was what passed for live entertainment in a small town. My parents had formed an amateur dramatic club which, with a great deal of hard work, put on 4 shows per year, a straight drama, often Shakespeare each Spring, A musical revue in mid-summer, a Musical in late Autumn then straight into rehearsals for the Christmas pantomime. Each show would be a sell-out (partly because each member had to sell a certain number of tickets or they didn't get a part in the production) but the pantomime was always the hit of the year.
I usually had a part in each production, but was happy to work back stage, I had talent enough to play second or third lead but never had the star quality my parents had hoped for. My mother, particularly groomed me from my youth, having my teeth fixed, making me exercise to develop my body, sending me to singing lessons, dancing lessons, elocution lessons and now at twenty three I looked like the type of matinee idol who went out of fashion twenty years ago.
With the end of the week's run we had to throw ourselves into preparing for the true highlight of the year. Each Spring a company of professional actors came and presented a recent hit play. It was almost embarrassing to compare the production put before us to our own meagre efforts, although my father never failed to criticise something about it.
This year, however, was different. We were to have a brand new play presented as part of a pre-West End run; the preparations were intense, not least the arranging of accommodation for the cast and crew. This time, because the play was still in production, the producer himself would be staying for the two week run and my mother decided that nothing else would do but he should stay with us, free of charge, for the duration of his stay.
It was necessary that we have the small community theatre cleared by Sunday evening because the theatre company expected to start setting up on Monday morning; this was no problem because my father volunteered me to do most of the work. I spent Sunday packing costumes, removing props and generally tidying back stage so I was less than pleased to get home tired, hungry and dirty to find that Mr Steven Price, West End producer had arrived and been given my bedroom. My parents, at the last minute, had decided that they couldn't possibly put such a distinguished guest in the spare room, so it was my lot to spend the next two weeks in the small attic room with a single bed and no TV, video or PC. This was typical of my parents, throughout my life they had treated me as an afterthought, decisions were made then they considered how the decisions would effect me: whether it was summer holidays or casting of plays, I was the last to know. This time, though, I felt they had gone too far and I told them so, in a voice loud enough for Mr Steven Bloody Price to hear me as he used up the hot water in the bathroom. This, of course gave them the opportunity to launch into their "You ungrateful boy, you don't know half of what we sacrificed for you" speech. The truth is, I know only too well, I've been told often enough. Their glorious acting career was ruined when I was conceived, although from what I can gather, their career consisted of infrequent tours interspersed with long lay-offs. My mother was convinced, however, that if she had had one more year she would have been discovered and become famous. Similarly, my father would have gone on to be recognised for the great actor and director that he is instead of having to give it all up and sell insurance to put bread in the mouth of the most ungrateful boy he had ever met. I went to my attic room before they started, I only end up arguing. One time I had the cheek to prompt my mother when she missed part of her tirade.
About 30 minutes later as I lay on the lumpy little cot reading, my door was knocked gently. I knew it certainly wasn't either of my parents, the idea of knocking or giving privacy was alien to both of them so I guessed it was Mr Smart-Arse producer. I called "Come in", and the door opened and so did my mouth. I had assumed that we would be having some old man with us for two weeks but there stood a man, the type that wet dreams are made of. He looked about 35 (he was 41), 6'2" tall with light red hair that sort of fell across his face.
"I believe I have you to thank for giving me such a comfortable room", he said in a voice that came from below his ankles. I just stammered a "You're welcome, think nothing of it" while blushing furiously at the thought he had heard my outburst. He held out his hand and said "I'm Steve, it's good to meet you". "David" I said, unable to think of any other words as he gripped my hand and shook it. "See you at supper", he said and left.
He had asked that instead of having dinner with us, that my mother just prepare a supper for him that he could eat whenever he returned from the theatre; my mother decided immediately that we would all have supper and wait until whenever he returned before any of us ate.
Of course the supper was a three course effort served in the dining room with the best china. By the time we had finished I was much more comfortable in Steve's presence, even annoying my parents by calling him 'Steve' while they still struggled with 'Mr Price'.
When we finished eating, Steve asked me if I would take him out and show him the town and maybe have a drink or two. My parents immediately offered to come along but Steve very charmingly told them that he preferred to save that pleasure for another evening when he would insist on taking them out for a meal to thank them for their wonderful hospitality. It was done in such a suave manner it probably took them several months to realise they had been rejected.
Since Steve was wearing a pair of faded jeans (that hugged his arse like liquid latex) and a sweater I decided to wear the same. "Hold on, Steve", I said, "I just have to go wash and change, I need to go into your room, I'm afraid". I went to the bathroom and stripped off and had a quick shower with the tepid water (somehow I didn't mind as much now) then pulled on my bathrobe and went to my (Steve's) bedroom only to find him sitting there. I muttered about getting dressed but he just kept sitting reading. I slipped on a pair of boxer-shorts under my bathrobe before removing it, then climbed into my jeans and sweat shirt, but I was sure that Steve was watching me out of the corner of his eye.
We went around the few streets in the centre of town before going into the only decent bar and having a couple of pints together. I had an ulterior motive for choosing that bar, I knew the barman, Ian, the only other gay guy in town that I knew and I wanted him to see my 'date'. As we supped our second pint, Dave commented that the barman kept watching us, I just said he was always curious with strangers, but Steve took my breath away when he said "Oh, thank goodness, I thought he was your boyfriend and was jealous". When I stopped spluttering I insisted that Ian and I were "Just mates" but I think I protested too much, Steve said "Ok, don't get angry, I didn't mean any offence, you are gay, aren't you?" I calmed down a bit and pleaded with him, "Look, Steve, I am gay, and my parents know I'm gay but we just don't talk about it. If you say anything they will think I've been hitting on you and there will be hell to pay". He assured me that he was the soul of discretion and I asked him how he knew I was gay and he laughed. "I've been among actors since I was seventeen, I can usually tell". As we talked on about previous plays he had done, I suddenly thought of the "It takes one to know one" theory so I asked him if he was gay. He told me he dabbled from time to time, he was 80% straight but if he had to be labelled he was probably bisexual, good enough for me.
On the way home I tried to figure out a way to get him interested enough to want to go to bed with me; I needn't have wasted my time. As soon as we got inside the house he grabbed my arse and kneaded it through my jeans before gripping my shoulder and turning me into his face, then he gave me a long lingering passionate kiss. We went into the lounge and fell onto the sofa where we continued eating each other's face. Finally he stopped for breath and said, "will we be safer here or in your attic"?
"No way", I replied, "We will use your bedroom. By now my parents will be sound asleep, mother takes 2 sleeping pills every night and father has several large whiskies, I think it's the only way they can bear to sleep together". Steve grabbed my arm and led me to the bedroom where he undressed me roughly, then he gathered me into his arms and laid me on the bed. He stripped naked, showing a perfectly shaped masculine body, good pecs with a more than ample covering of hair, a narrowing waist then great thighs and a strong firm arse. He kissed my lips then worked himself around my body with his mouth, licking my armpits, nipping my nipples with his teeth before following the fine black line of hair that led from my chest to my pubes. He licked around my gear, taking my balls individually into his mouth and rolling them with his tongue before wrapping his lips over my cock and sliding down it until it was lodged in his throat. It was an amazing feeling, I had never been deed-throated before, in fact although I had read of it I didn't believe anyone could actually do it, but he did. He withdrew slowly then gorged himself again until I had to pull him off. I then set off on my own voyage of discovery, taking a complete tour of his beautiful masculine body. By the time I reached his cock it was straining against the veins that defined it. At my estimate of 6" it was an inch shorter than mine but it more than compensated in girth, or to put it another way, 'It was fucking massive'. My experiences had been limited, I knew I would have my work cut out taking that thing inside me: but then, surprise, surprise, my butch god 80% straight guy lifted his legs and showed me his hole. Unlike his 80%-20% split, I know I'm a perfect 50-50 top or bottom, it really doesn't matter to me, I had just assumed that this he-man would do the riding and I would be his mount for the journey.
I gripped him behind his knees and started licking at the puckered recess that was his arsehole, getting it good and wet before I stuck my tongue into it. I felt it open slightly before closing again around my tongue. I worked at it for several minutes, alternating between tongue and fingers until I could slide two fingers into him with ease, then I moved up and showed my raging cock to his pulsing hole. I pushed the head in quite easily so I just kept going until I was entrenched and held it there, God: it felt good. When I had calmed slightly I started slowly to fuck him. I was taking it at my own pace but Steve was pushing himself back against me. I was chewing on one of his nipples and pulling on his cock as I piled into him making him moan and squirm, heightening my own pleasure. Finally he gripped my chin and pulled my face to his and kissed me and I felt his cock swell and spurt between our stomachs so I immediately climaxed and filled his arse with my juice.
As he lowered his legs my cock slipped out of him and we lay cuddling for about 30 minutes before he had to excuse himself and go to the bathroom.
I took my cue and picked up my clothes and went to my little room to sleep the sleep of the sexually satisfied.
In the morning I got up and helped my mother prepare breakfast. When Steve came down we sat and ate then he rushed off the theatre. That night we went and saw the play, a really good strong piece of work and came home, waited for Steve then ate supper before Steve pleaded tiredness and went to bed. About 15 minutes after that my parents retired leaving me to lock up and settle into my little bed. Thirty minutes later my door opened and Steve was there in his dressing gown. "Do you think it's safe yet"? he asked. I was out of bed like a shot and chasing him to his room. We fell onto the bed and set about each other like stoats ending up in a 69. Again he took my cock into his throat so I struggled to get as much of him into my mouth. I was in heaven as Steve slid up and down me and I slurped on him when he slipped one finger into me. I returned the favour and we sucked and fingered each other to ecstasy.
The following day, I received a phone call at work at about 10.30 in the morning from my mother telling me that I had to come home immediately. Thinking that something had happened my father I rushed home to find my mother in a state of elation. The guy playing second lead had fallen in the street late the night before and was now in hospital with his leg in plaster; mother had convinced Steve that rather than cancel the production for at least 2 days while he found a replacement and rehearsed him, he should at least let me read for him, since I was in the right age group, I was an experienced actor (in her eyes) and I held a current Equity card. I was in a blazing temper, firstly because she had dragged me out of my work to do a rehearsal and secondly because she was asking me to put myself in a situation that I would never choose to put myself.
Finally, for the sake of Steve I agreed to do it, after I had phoned my boss, explained the situation and asking him for some time off. Since he was a friend of my parents and a stalwart of the acting club he agreed, probably thinking it would guarantee him a better part in the next production. I went down to the theatre where Steve was waiting. He took me to one side and explained that he was desperate not to close the play, but he would rather do that than put on a second rate performance.
In other words I could expect no favours which suited me.
As I started my reading, my father arrived (my mother had called him) and sat in. I was into my second line when my father stopped me and started giving me direction. Steve bit his lip but when it happened for the third time he had to step in and ask my father to either sit quietly or leave the theatre: my father was livid, as he saw it some upstart was telling him how to treat His son in His theatre. He stamped out of the auditorium slamming the main doors behind him.
I read several passages before Steve decided I was up to the job then he started running me through the play with several other actors working with me. I have always been a quick learner but there was no way I could learn a large part in about 6 hours, I had to be content with learning my prompts and trying to grasp the bare bones of my part. There would be a prompt at the side of the stage and each of the other actors assured me that they would help me with my lines. At about 4.30 Steve took me to a local barber and had my hair cut in a short modern style then we went to my house.
My father's temper was only slightly mollified by the fact that his son had a major part in a professional play. Mother was in seventh heaven, immediately picking out an outfit suitable to wear to her son's premiere. Steve gave them complementary tickets for that night then announced that in view of events he felt it better that he book into the hotel for the rest of his stay. My mother looked at my father with pure hatred for bringing such shame on her home. No doubt word would spread about what had happened and their character would be ruined; drama was always her forte. Obviously I was disappointed to at Steve's decision to leave but for a very different reason. I had no time to think of that, however, I was soon being rushed back to the theatre. Fortunately it was a modern play so we were able to sort out some of my own clothes suitable for the part, at least we didn't have to worry about costume fittings.
I would love to say that I was a roaring success, but I stumbled and stuttered through most of it. This didn't stop the audience giving a standing ovation to their local star. Afterwards my family came backstage to warm themselves on any reflected glory that came their way, but I was tired and exhausted. Mother invited Steve to at least come home and have supper but he begged off saying we still had a great deal of work to do, that he was taking me for a working supper at the hotel then he would rehearse me more for the next night's performance.
Well, it was only half a lie, he did give me loads of notes and tips about my performance during the meal but immediately afterwards he took me to his room. This time it was me pulling at Steve's clothes, I think I was on some major rush as the enormity of the evening started to dawn on me. Instead of waiting to see what was offered to me I pushed Steve onto the bed and hauled at his hips to get him in the doggie position. I wet my cock and plunged into him before he could prepare himself. I didn't even pause, I started fucking him like a stallion in heat until I felt myself near a climax, making me redouble my efforts until I shot my load into his arse.
Again we relaxed together but this time as we kissed and touched, Steve whispered to me, "Stay the night".
I snuggled my back into him as he caressed my nipples with one hand and held my cock with the other. I put one hand back and fondled his semi-hard weapon as he kissed and nibbled my ear, a sure way to get me exited. When his cock was once again rigid I manoeuvred it towards my hole and pushed back. Steve immediately stopped me , telling me that he didn't want to hurt me. I persisted so finally he went to his toilet bag and brought some lubricant. Firstly he kissed my ring, gently relaxing me then he smoothed some lotion around it before inserting one finger. I pushed back against him so he quickly inserted a second digit. He kept working me until he could easily insert three of his large fingers then he brought his cock to me. I concentrated, pushed back and the head finally went in. I had never felt so sore in my life but I was determined to succeed so I kept telling myself that others had done more so I just had to be patient. It took about 10 minutes for him to get himself embedded in me while I just gasped and bit my pillow, determined not to make any noise that would discourage him. Finally I felt his thick pubic hair brush against my buttocks and I relaxed slightly.
Steve was the most patient of lovers as he worked my arse slowly, rubbing more lube on himself as he withdrew until he felt his entry getting easier then he began to fuck me properly. The feeling was intense, I had never experienced so profound a feeling of sexual pleasure, I was afraid to even touch my cock as he slipped in and out of me. I suppose the anticipation had excited him as well because his efforts quickly culminated in an amazing orgasm which brought me to my own pinnacle of pleasure.
The week continued and each evening my performance on stage improved until, by the Saturday, I was word perfect and handling my performance like the professional I now was. No doubt my nightly "Rehearsals" with Steve were helping too. Everyone in the cast knew what was going on , and I think my parents had probably worked it out too.
Only one cast member made a nasty remark about me sleeping my way into the part, the rest seemed to accept that I found myself in this situation by pure chance and had more than earned any praise that I might receive.
On the Tuesday of the second week, Steve called a cast meeting. He announced that the chap who I replaced had had further tests and his injury would take longer to heal than expected, and because of this I would be continuing in the part for the rest of the tour. He had asked me on Monday night if I would be able to accept the job and I had jumped at it. He stressed to me and to the cast that his decision was based solely on my acting ability, but he also told me something else of equal importance, that while he loved having sex with me, he didn't love me. The relationship could continue until one of us wanted it to stop, and when that happened it would not effect my staying with the cast. Since I was of the same opinion, enjoying the sex but nothing more, I was quite happy with that.
On the following morning I went to see my boss and explained what had happened and that I would be away for eight weeks. Since he couldn't offer that much time off I had to hand in my resignation which he accepted, waiving my need to work any notice, and a promise to do his best to re-employ me if the need arose.
I then told my parents what had happened: they started to discuss what I should do, but I told them that I needed no advice, I had already made my decision.
For the rest of the tour I was working hard trying to polish my performance and learn more of the craft of acting. After about 6 weeks my relationship with Steve was starting to cool off, we didn't see as much of each other, and I soon noticed he had started to pay a lot of attention to a young woman who had joined the costume department. I wasn't exactly heart broken, I could now pay more attention to one of the scene shifters who arrived every Sunday to dismantle our sets, move them to the next town and re-erect them. He had been giving me a lot of come-on and I wasn't discouraging him. He was about 40, he had a bit of a beer gut and oozed masculinity, so I finally agreed to go 'for a quick drink' with him and ended up in bed with him.
Finally the news the cast were waiting for arrived, the play was going into the West End. Steve took me to one side and told me that the backers had been in the previous night and had agreed after watching the play that I should take the role into London, it was more than I had dreamt of happening.
Opening night was a huge success, we didn't have any great party but there was drink and food provided on stage after the final curtain for the cast and crew and a few friends (I didn't tell my parents about it) and that is where I met Jake. I recognised his face from TV, he had been in a soap for some time but had left and continued to work on other programmes, making a name for himself as an accomplished film and TV actor. He singled me out to praise my performance and he asked me how I was settling in. I told him that I was too busy with the play and with trying to find somewhere decent and cheap to live that I hadn't had time to think of anything else. Immediately he offered the use of a small room in his house until I got settled.
I moved in on the following weekend and within a short time we sort of hit it off. His work meant him leaving early in the morning so I would get up about 11 and clean the house for him before setting off for the theatre. One night he invited me to a party he was going to and I suppose we both had too much to drink, because we woke up together in his bed. Neither of us were too embarrassed so it was no great surprise a few nights later that when I came home and we had a few glasses of wine we ended up in bed together again, this time remembering what we were doing. It became our habit to sleep together gradually learning each other's tastes and strong points until we were happier with each other than with anyone else. We both love to fuck and we both love to be fucked, so we just keep on fucking.
The play ran for 10 months, after which I was out of work, but luckily I have never been 'resting' for very long at any one time, usually stepping more or less from one job to another. I have never really broken into TV except for some advert work but I have never been broke.
My parents are SO proud of me, it has raised their profile in Amateur Dramatics circles, and of course they argue about which one of them I inherited my talent from; I am happy just to work and go home to my beloved Jake.