THE PLAY'S THE THING
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
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"On top of him?" Justin asked the director dubiously. "But Laertes is all the way over there. You want me to carry the cup over to him, and drink it, and then fall on top of him, or stagger over there?"
"Justin, honey, listen to me." the director said wheedlingly. "Hamlet is a boy given to dramatic gestures. What better gesture to leave the Danish court than his lifeless body atop the friend he has had to kill in a duel of honor."
Justin, with his handsome upper-class face, light brown hair and finely molded body was the sort of guy who always got the juiciest parts in any play, assuming he had any modicum of talent. But Justin earned his right to play the lead in this production honestly, he was not only a student of Shakespeare and had arrived at the first rehearsal knowing all his lines (I hadn't!), but he had a delivery of the melodious monotone of Shakespeare that turned it from hard-to-comprehend poetry into simple dialogue. So many actors simply declaim Shakespeare, Justin was able to bring the words to life!
Me, I was less comfortable with my part, other than having a pretty face and a talent for fencing that any actor had better learn if he wants to do historical pieces, but my job was to play up to Hamlet, and I worked to make my own lines as feeling as Justin's. How can I explain the difference between me and Justin? Justin wanted to be an actor, I just wanted to be a star! I would head to Hollywood soon, Justin would probably go to Boston or New York instead. But to both of us, this play was important to our careers.
"Hamlet didn't set out to kill Laertes." Justin argued, looking at me as he said this. I was playing Laertes, the son of Old Polonius ("to thine own self be true") and brother of Ophelia.
I smiled and gave Justin a shrug. "Hey, I was out to kill you." I pointed out. Hamlet had killed Laertes' father (for good reason if you ask me) and by chasing after his sister, drove her to suicide. "I knew darned well the blade was tipped with poison, even if you didn't."
"Right." the director cut in, a small, fussy man, more at home with extravagant musicals than with Shakespeare. "So in a grand final gesture, he drinks the poison wine, walks over, and quietly expires on top of the body of dear Laertes. We bring a final spotlight on your two lifeless bodies at the end, two foes and young friends. locked together, dead for the follies of mankind."
"He wasn't a friend of Laertes." Justin pointed out, and I sort of groaned. Justin had the play in hand, but hell, why drag things out like this? "I don't think Hamlet gave a damn about Laertes."
"I think Hamlet had the hots for Laertes, myself." I put in. "I think they were secret lovers back at school, and Hamlet only chased after Ophelia in hopes of getting closer to him." Okay, nothing in the play would suggest any such thing. But I was trying to blast Justin out of this ass-crunching attitude he was in.
The other actors chuckled, which was my intent. Justin took umbrage, as I expected. "Why do you think that, Paul?" Justin asked me.
"Think of the start of the second Act." I said. "Ophelia tells her father about Hamlet bursting into her bedroom last night, he walks in wearing his bedgown, looking rather deranged, he grabs her wrist, stares at her face, sighs, lets her go, and walks out the door backwards."
"What about it?" Justin demanded.
"Why did Hamlet sigh and let go after looking Ophelia in her face?" I said. "He thought he was getting in bed with me, instead. My bedroom is probably right next door, after all."
It did the trick. Justin smiled and said malevolently, "Killing you is going to be a lot of fun, now, Laertes."
"Lay on, McDuff." I said, from the wrong play, of course.
"Okay, from your marks for the death of Hamlet. Come on, people, let's get this down, the play is tonight."
"My point, exactly." Justin muttered. I grinned and lay down in position, on my back, one leg straight and one bent, one hand on my stomach (where Hamlet had "stabbed" me), the other out akimbo on the stage. All artistic-like, naturally.
"Okay, Justin, from the place where you just drank the poisoned wine."
Justin took the cup and said his lines. . "O, I die, Horatio; the potent poison quite o'er-crowds my spirit. I cannot live to hear the news from England, But I do prophesy the election lights on Fortinbras He has my dying voice; so tell him, with the occurrents, More and less which have solicited. The rest is silence." . As he said it, he walked over to me, and as he said "The rest is silence," he dropped to his knees, and then fell over onto me.
"Whoof!" I said.
"Cut!" the director said. "What was that?"
"Every bit of breath in my body! He landed right on me!" I said.
"He's supposed to land on you." the director said. "Try it again, just from the fall. We have to get this right, people!"
So he dropped and fell and this time, it was Hamlet that let out a yelp! He landed with his crotch right on my bent knee. I could feel his balls as they collided with the knob of my legbone, he hit it dead center.
"Oh, honey, honey, are you all right?" the director fussed over his star like a mother hen.
"Oh, God, no, I'm not the fuck all right!" Justin moaned as he rolled on the ground, clutching his mauled balls inside his black tights.
"We could add that to the play." I said as I considered it from my semi-sitting position, I had raised up to enjoy Justin's agony...well, not really, but you know what I mean. A guy gets it in the balls, you want to watch! "Looks like writhing from poison to me." Both of Justin's legs were in the air, and I had a sudden, powerful image of me between those legs, humping away, and I threw a hell of an erection.
"Help me out here, Paul." Justin said to me. "Don't help me out here. Jesus!"
"Okay." I said. "Why don't you land beside me rather than on me?" I said. "You got this whole side here, just my arm out here. Land over here!"
"Let's try that." the director agreed.
"Okay, okay." Justin groused. "Jesus." He rubbed his crotch and got back over me.
"Okay, Justin, third time's the charm." the director called out. "Try it again."
"Come to papa, loverboy." I put my arms up as if I wanted him to jump into my embrace. Which I did, but not just here, if you know what I mean.
"Har. Har. Har." Justin said.
I went back into my position and Justin landed and I felt his crotch again. This time, it was right on my hand. Justin's head was on my chest, one arm over to my other side, so that he was embracing me. Jesus, was this another failed effort or what?
"Marvelous!" the director said. "Good position! Okay, play out the rest of the scene everyone! Let them get used to holding that position."
My hand had been palm down, but I turned it around and cupped his basket. "Yeah." I murmured to his ear. "Get used to holding it."
"Bastard." Justin muttered, but he didn't move away. Right through the entire entrance of Fortinbras and up until the final gunshot of salute, I had hold of Justin's crotch.
"All right, everyone." the director said when it was done. "We're ready for tonight, it's now four-thirty. Time out for dinner, everyone be back here for opening night in three hours!"
Opening night, ye Gods! I thought as I got to my feet. We should have had today day to rest up for opening night, this final dress rehearsal and the last-minute changes may be the norm for a musical, but for a drama like "Hamlet," it was nerve-wracking! The director had made a couple of dozen changes to the positions and lines and staging, and we all had to remember these things tonight, when we were all punch-drunk from fatigue as it was (witness my own antics and giggles, it wasn't unprofessionalism, it was raw, jangled nerves straining for release. All these changes...it was just begging for trouble on stage tonight, missed cues, you name it.
Well, one bright light was Justin, if I could rub his crotch and him not protest, maybe I had someone to spend the night with after we wrapped up. We could talk during dinner....
I looked around for Justin, to find him wrapped up in the director, who was taking him aside and talking to him. Then the two of them going off, the director's arm around Justin's shoulder.
Well, I thought, the old casting couch was in action again. I didn't fault Justin for hopping in bed with the director, God knows I was ready to do that myself if I had to. Instead, I gave a sort of helpless shrug and went off to take off the costume and get out of make-up. I'd have to plaster the crud all over my face again in a couple of hours, but three hours was too long to wear all this, especially outside the theatre, not to mention I had to change costumes for opening, anyhow. I hitched up with a couple of friends and we hit a Burger King a couple of blocks away. After that, we went back to the theatre and basically hung around until an hour before, then we got back into costume for the opening scene. I only had three costumes, one for when I was going to see the King and knew it (fancier), one for "everyday wear" and one for my duel with Hamlet, a loose white shirt and white tights. Hamlet wore the same thing, but in black, all of Hamlet's clothing except for the Ophelia "bedroom" sequence was black. The first scene I'm in was Act I, Scene 2, just after the sentries on the tower report seeing the ghost. One of a crowd following the King and Queen into their royal chamber.
So I was in line behind the stage in the wings, listening to the sentries babble back and forth about a ghost and my arm was grabbed and I was yanked back behind a piece of fake castle wall, and saw who it was, it was Justin and then he was kissing me, but hard!
I liked it, but hell, I had to get into position! The sentries were already looking at the ghost for the first time!
"Damn you." Justin growled at me. "Where were you earlier?"
"Out to dinner." I said. "You went with the director."
"Only for a moment, then I came back to look for you."
"Sorry." I said.
"Shit, I want you, you hot little bastard." Justin panted. "Groping me on stage, God, that was so hot!"
"Just blowing off steam." I said. "Not that I'm not ready."
"Good." Justin said. "Be ready when I am, okay?"
"Okay." I said.
Justin kissed me again, then he let me go and I went back to my place in the line, well back in the row, while Justin, as the Prince of Denmark, went up to just behind the royal couple.
I went through my scene, only a couple of lines in Act I, Scene 2, and when I left with the rest of the crowd, I peered through at Justin, playing Hamlet first to the King and Queen, Hamlet's mother and uncle/stepfather, and then to his friends who are telling him about his father's ghost. A time or two, he looked my way, me waiting to reappear in Scene 3, this time a scene with Ophelia where I dispense brotherly advice, and Polonius enters, and gives me fatherly advice. Neither of us listen to the advice, naturally (would you?) and I slip backstage again, leaving Polonius and Ophelia alone on the stage for about a minute.
And again Justin grabbed me and dragged me behind the scenery again, and this time I was ready enough to kiss him. This time, his hand groped my crotch and I groaned.
"Jesus, Justin!" I said when I got my lips free. "What are you doing? You have to be on stage in a few seconds."
"I know." Justin kissed me again, this time a hungry, sloppy kiss. I would have to touch up my make-up! And he was off, to talk with his father's ghost alongside Horatio. It takes a while, and I spent the time at the make-up mirror touching up the smear around my lips.
I knew after the talk with the ghost, there's a sizeable pause, while Polonius and the King work to figure Hamlet out. And by now, I knew what Justin had in mind, sort of. So I was waiting for him next to the scenery which was becoming our private getaway. I left just enough of myself visible to see him see me, and then I was back there, waiting to grab him.
He cupped my balls again, but I did his, too. We had about ten minutes this time, I intended to use every second of it. I fondled his now-rampant erection (I wondered if he was carrying it still onto the stage, I knew my own was going up and down obligingly well), and when he reached into my tights, I did the same to him.
I had hold of a hard, throbbing dong and I milked it hard while he worked mine, and I was groaning with my need for this guy! Shit, of all the places to be doing this, the back of a stage with a play going on, and him the lead actor, was just too damned much!
"Justin? Justin? Where are you?"
"It's the costume director." I said, realizing. Shit, we were still wearing our clothing from the first act. I had to change my shirt top and Justin had a full change to a black suit of clothes that were more rumpled and in line with his persona of a young man beginning to go, or rather act, insane.
"God, man, I can't keep this up!" Justin whimpered. "I got to do you. Next time we get, okay? Right here, you and me. Fast as we can. Okay?"
"Okay." I said, and Justin went to get into costume. I lingered behind a while for appearance's sake, I had less to do and more time to do it.
Justin made it back onto stage, book in hand, on time. He had a lot of time on stage now, all the way through the end of Act II, and Hamlet, after briefing the actors (to perform a play within a play, Shakespeare liked that kind of thing), delivers one of his more memorable lines, "The play 's the thing, wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king."
Hamlet/Justin bowed his head and the lights went down, the end of Act II. Good news for him and me, it also meant a fifteen-minute intermission. We could finally get it on.
Or so I thought. The director was also aware of the intermission, and chose that time to buttonhole Justin about some more changes to his production. I was left with a raging hard-on and no Justin! He looked my way helplessly, but the director didn't let up until the third Act was underway.
Justin raced over. "Two minutes. That's all we got, two minutes." And to my astonishment, he was tugging his tights down!
"We can't do this in two minutes!" I nearly shrieked.
"We can if you hurry." Justin panted. "Come on, you do me, and I'll get you the next break, honest! But hurry, hurry!" and he pushed me down to my knees.
God, I wanted Justin's body, but like this! But it was what I was getting, so I shoved his prod into my mouth and I sucked him like a son-of-a-bitch! Hard and fast, Justin grunting above me, I had a hot male tool ramming in and out of my mouth, Justin was giving it all he had in addition to my own motions, we were two frantic lovers trying to get him off now, get him off now, now, now!
"UH-HUH, GUH, HNNNNHHHHKKKHH!" Justin erupted into my mouth in a frenetic rapture of orgasm, as he pumped hot jizz down my throat. I sucked at him frantically, guzzling down that hot, salty seed and when he was done, panting hard, we heard from the stage the words of King Claudius, just before he says he hears Hamlet coming, . "The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it. Than is my deed to my most painted word: O heavy burden!" .
"You got to move." I hissed at Justin.
"Be waiting back here, okay?" Justin said as he hitched at his tights. "Next time we're both off-stage together."
I thought over the play. "It'll have to be fast."
"You can do it." Justin said and clapped my shoulder, then he raced out to the edge of the scenery leading onto the stage, there to stroll in and promptly deliver the play's most famous lines: . "To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?" .
The famous soliloquy, Justin delivered right after having his climax with me backstage. I marveled at how he was able to do that, I was about to pass out as it was!
I had a long wait, the entire play-with-a-play was done, where Hamlet has the actors show the Queen how the King arranged to kill her former husband and Hamlet's father, then Hamlet is there until the end of a very, very long scene.
But there's a brief period of the second scene when Hamlet is off-stage, it's practically the only time he is off-stage from that point forward. Justin raced up to me and I realized his intention (I had less than a minute!) and I yanked down my tights.
Justin practically skidded into position as he got behind the scenery. I had my cock out and his lips, solid with saliva, thumped down onto my prick.
God, how can I describe this? We had so little time here, what were we both thinking? We only had to wait until the play was over...and the after-hour party...and the fatigue of the long day set in. Then the next day there would be the reviews to pick up...Justin was right. Either we did this during the play's intervals, or we didn't do it!
Now or never! Do it now, I told my body, hurry up, I told my manhood pulsing in Justin's clutching, sucking, mauling mouth! Hurry up, do it now, do it now, now!
In the distant past, mankind must have had this sort of pressure, the need to have sex quickly, or not at all. The body does have it within itself to rush the procedure of sexual delight, the mind can indeed tell it to cut short all the build-up it normally relishes, it is willing upon proper pressure to jump right into the orgasm, and that was what my body did.
I had Justin's mouth ramming my cock down his throat, my dick tingled, pulsed, throbbed, sparked, ignited, and exploded! Thirty seconds, maximum, from the first time Justin crammed it into his mouth until I was squirting my jizz into his suckling maw.
I was still reeling from the power of it all, my last droplets still in my shaft, dripping out, and Justin was back on his feet, wiping his mouth, and said, "That was great! See you on stage!" and he raced back to his post, to walk onto the stage, the King kneeling in his prayer in contrition, him listening to it, and then to respond that he can't kill the King here in this moment, for when else would even a rogue end up going to Heaven, than if he died during his prayers?
I got to my station with time to spare and then some, for my main part in this play was comgin up, my part from here on was to be the man who swears vengeance on Hamlet for killing Polonius (who was spying on Hamlet and his mother, after all) and from there is the scene at the graveyard when Ophelia kills herself and then the battle where they fight and Hamlet kills me with my own poisoned blade and I denounce the King as the perpetrator before I die.
Just before the battle, though, there is the attempt at reconciliation between Hamlet and Laertes, the King (though having set things up to be sure Hamlet dies) makes a show, and in the process, Hamlet and Laertes are holding hands. I looked at Hamlet, at Justin, that is, and looked into his eyes as I said the line, "I do receive your offer'd love like love, and will not wrong it."
As I did that, I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed it.
Justin smiled and delivered his own lines: . "I embrace it freely, and will this brother's wager frankly play. Give us the foils. Come on." .
"Come, one for me." I returned.
And Justin said: . "I'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignorance Your skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night, Stick fiery off indeed." .
And Justin kissed my own hand in his turn before he let mine go and we commenced to the battle.
We ended up as planned, Hamlet dying on top of my dead corpse, but Justin maneuvered somewhat to end up more on top of me than before, he cushioned his fall so I didn't go "oomph!" like before, and we were practically nose to nose.
After the fall of the curtain before it rose up for the bows, Justin gave me a kiss and said, "Tonight, Paul, we'll go home and tomorrow, we'll have time to do it right."
"I thought we did it pretty well this time." I said as we parted, the sequence of the bows in a theatre are planned out, we weren't together for that bow.
I looked from my position near the edge toward Justin standing in dead center, and saw how the crowd was going crazy for him. If he could deliver a masterful performance after doing what he and I had done, his career was a hell of a lot more likely than mine to be the one that made it big.
Justin looked my way and gave me a wink and smile I had to return.
Maybe I could make it in New York. After all, Hamlet needs Laertes. Like Laertes needs Hamlet.
THE END
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