All The World’s a Stage – Act 01

Babes

Reading notes:

1. This is the first chapter of another collaboration between my new sissy friend Simon(e) and myself. It is a re-hash of an original story outlined by my late friend and Simon(e)’s ex-Owner, Nicola.

2. All participants are well over the age of eighteen, and all activities described are undertaken consensually.

3. All authors value feedback. Please consider leaving a comment when you’ve read this.

Margaret Morgan was sulking. And when Margaret sulked, the whole company got to hear of it. She had been in this state ever since the younger, prettier Morwenna Rees had been cast as Laurey in the autumn production of Oklahoma! Margaret had a point, because Morwenna couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag, but she did have a lovely pair of tits, which she wasn’t shy about rubbing up against the director at any given moment.

So here we were, four months after the casting call, all ready to begin the full dress rehearsal. My name is Drew, and for the past eight months, I’ve been the Stage Manager and Technical Director of the Grand Theatre here in Pont Aber, in the south Wales valleys.

This is my first job as SM. I’m only twenty five, although I have three years’ experience of working in the theatre, ever since I completed my Theatre Studies degree. I’m used to working with professional actors and touring companies, so this gig, put on in their home town by the P.A.A.D.S. (Port Aber Amateur Dramatic Society) was a first for me. It was to prove a very significant occasion in my life. If you’re interested, settle down comfortably, and I’ll explain why.

We got underway ten minutes late, which wasn’t a good start. The first act, according to the notes I’d been given by the director, was timed to last for thirty eight minutes. An hour after we’d started, we still hadn’t reached the end of act one, and that was due to a combination of Margaret hamming it up dreadfully and Morwenna’s inability to remember more than a couple of lines at a time.

Eventually, we staggered towards the interval, and the harassed and frustrated director yelled up from the orchestra pit that there would be a fifteen minute break, and could he possibly see Morwenna in the props room straight away, please?

I took the opportunity to go and have a pee. There are two toilets backstage in the Grand, one on either side of the stage, and tradition has it that the women use the prompt side and the men the opposite prompt side. Thus it was that I had to cross the stage to get to the appropriate toilet.

When I got there, one of the two urinals was already in use. I stood at the spare one, unzipped and began to pee. The man standing next to me turned his head and smiled.

“Hi,” he said in a friendly voice. “you must be Drew. We haven’t met. I’m Keith. How are you enjoying your first P.A.A.D.S. production?”

“It’s certainly very different to some of the shows I’ve been involved with,” I replied diplomatically. I finished my pee and shook the drippers off the end of my cock. As I started to put it back in my trousers, I was aware that Keith was staring at me. He saw that I’d noticed the direction in which he was looking, and he blushed.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “I’m not well blessed in the trouser snake department. It’s force of habit. I always check out the competition!”

I grinned. “And what am I competing for?” I asked cheekily. “I’m single and available. What about you?”

“Oh, very happily married, thank you,” replied Keith. “My wife is in this production too. She’s playing Aunt Eller.”

I smiled sympathetically at him. Aunt Eller was being played by Margaret.

It wasn’t my job to criticise the cast, so I moved to the wash basins, swilled my hands and turned back to face Keith.

“Nice to have met you,” I said. “Sorry to dash, but I have to help the stage crew dress the stage for the opening of act two.”

I returned to the stage, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Keith had been trying too hard to impress on me how wonderful the state of his marriage was. It brought to mind the famous line from Hamlet:

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

It was none of my business anyway, so I put it out of my mind and got on with changing the set and dressing the stage ready for the beginning of act two.

The dress rehearsal continued, but this time, much more smoothly and without the constant stopping for prompts to actors who had dried. I don’t know what the director had said to Morwenna at the interval, but whatever it was, it worked. She was far less stiff in the second act, and even Margaret seemed to have got over her sulk, and so the curtain came down only two minutes late. Only one incident seemed out of place during the second act. Because of a lack of numbers in the female chorus, Margaret was doubling up as a chorus member during the bigger numbers. She had one quick change during act two, which took place in the wings, and which Trisha, a female member of the stage crew, was responsible for. When Margaret dashed into dikimevi escort the wings, already tugging off her gingham blouse, Trisha was nowhere to be seen. So I dressed Margaret, enjoying the sight of her small but perfectly formed tits and what looked like her shaved cunt that was almost, but not quite visible through her sheer white knickers. As she dashed back onto the stage as Aunt Eller, Trisha re-appeared, looking flustered.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “one of the male chorus told me there was someone trying to get in at the stage door, but when I went to check, there was no-one there. Did you change Margaret alright?”

I confirmed that everything had gone smoothly, hoping that Trisha wouldn’t notice the bulge in my trousers in the dimmed light in the wings, and the rehearsal continued without any more unscripted events.

Whilst the stage crew and I set about re-setting the stage for tomorrow night’s opening performance, the director gathered all the cast into the auditorium, sat them down and gave them a congratulatory pep talk before inviting everyone to join him in the bar for “one drink, and one drink only! We have a show to put on tomorrow, remember!”

Our stage crew at the Grand was made up of about ten or twelve men and women, all of whom performed their duties on a voluntary basis. They were self-taught, and were amongst the best crew I ever worked with. I was the only one who got paid, but most of the companies that played the Grand were so grateful to have such a dedicated and competent stage crew, that they usually put a couple of hundred quid over the bar for them. The P.A.D.D.S. were no exception and we all trooped into the bar, having set everything for the opening night.

Tradition had it that I bought the crew the first round of drinks, and that they all then used the money put behind the bar for them. Tradition also laid down that they all only had one “free” pint each a night during the week, reserving the majority of the float for the after show party on the Saturday night.

I got my round in and brought the drinks back to the table where the stage crew had settled themselves. The rest of the cast and some of the orchestra were in small groups throughout the bar.

The fly crew finished their beer quickly. It was hot work hauling heavy canvas backcloths up and down, and they needed to replace some fluid. But true to form, after only one pint, they called it a night and our group began to break up.

Most of the cast and all of the orchestra began to drift off too, so I took my drink over to the table where the director was seated with a couple of actors. I wanted to make sure that he was happy with the way the dress rehearsal had gone.

He thanked me for all the hard work earlier, and assured me that the stage crew had done a great job. I offered to buy him a pint, but he shook his head and said that he wanted an early night. We shook hands, and he went left to the exit, I went right to the bar.

As I approached the bar, Keith came alongside me.

“What can I get you?” he asked affably, and I shook my head.

“Let me get you a pint,” I suggested.

“Oh no, thanks,” he replied. “Margaret sent me up here to get you a drink to say ‘thank you’ for helping her do that quick change earlier on.”

He grinned a little self-consciously, I thought, and then he added,

“And anyway, I’m not allowed to drink pints!”

I allowed him to buy me a pint and I accompanied him back to his table, where Margaret sat, waiting for the large gin and tonic which her husband brought for her. He also had a very lurid looking plastic bottle of some sort of juice, with a straw jutting out of the top, which he proceeded to sip delicately.

Margaret beamed up at me, and patted the padded bench seat she was sitting on.

“Come and sit here, Drew,” she purred, and when I looked at Keith, she gave a snort and pointed at a chair opposite her.

“You sit there!” she said sharply, “and drink your juice. Drew and I have things to discuss!”

For the life of me, I couldn’t think what we had to talk about, but Margaret was a good looking woman, with a fit, hard body, so I sat down next to her and sipped my pint.

“Thanks for helping me with my quick change,” she said. “You’re a perfect gentleman! I hope that you weren’t embarrassed when I flashed my tits at you when my blouse came off!”

I felt myself starting to blush, and I was also conscious of my cock beginning to stir as well. I hoped Margaret wouldn’t notice either effect, and I looked at Keith to see what he thought.

“Don’t worry about him,” laughed Margaret, placing her hand on my thigh, dangerously close to the tip of my cock. She sipped her drink.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Margaret asked with a mischievous smile. She began scratching my thigh gently with an elegant index finger nail.

“No,” I admitted, adding “my tastes run to the exotic, and I’m not sure that many women share my interests.”

“Drew, you have no idea dikmen escort where my interests lie,” replied Margaret. “Let me put it this way. Keith knows what type of men I like. He happened to mention that you are particularly well endowed, and judging by that lovely looking bulge in your trousers, he wasn’t wrong.”

I looked at Keith, who had moved subtly, so that he blocked the view from the bar to our table.

“Are you comfortable with this?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded, and I inhaled deeply as Margaret’s wandering fingers finally reached my cock and began to rub it gently through my jeans.

“I think it’s getting late,” she purred seductively. “Time for bed, wouldn’t you say?”

She swallowed the rest of her drink, and I did the same.

“Leave that, and go and get the car,” she instructed Keith in a low voice. “Drew is coming home with us!”

Less than five minutes later, I was in the back seat of their car with Margaret. Keith was driving. She continued to rub my cock, but a lot less surreptitiously, now that we were safe from being watched.

I was really enjoying the attention of Margaret’s skilful hand, but I managed to ask what the hell was going on. Margaret chuckled and, in reply, she said,

“I think you’d better explain to Drew what’s happening here, don’t you, Keith the cuckold.”

“Margaret enjoys the good things in life,” Keith began in the sort of conversational tone which seemed to indicate that he’d been made to give this explanation frequently in the past. He continued,

“We have what is called a Female Led Marriage. Margaret gets to make all the decisions, and I obey her. Margaret loves sex, but, as I told you earlier, I’m not very well equipped. When I saw your cock in the toilet earlier on, I told Margaret and she took it from there.”

I looked at the woman who was currently sliding her tiny hand into my trousers through the zip which she had just slid down. She grinned.

“I sent Keith to tell Trisha that someone was trying to get into the stage door,” she confessed, ” and I made sure you were the only stage crew available to help me change.”

“Www! What do we have here?” she asked rhetorically as she freed my cock from the confines of my jeans. “Oh my god!” she continued, peeling back my foreskin to reveal my smooth, purple cock helmet “it’s fucking massive Keith! There’ll be very little point in you asking for sloppy seconds tonight, cucky! This monster’s going to stretch me wider than I’ve ever been stretched before!”

At this point, and at the risk of sounding boastful, I should mention that when fully hard, my cock is ten inches long and about two and a half inches in circumference. And, thanks to Margaret’s skilful fingers, I was fully hard.

We pulled into the driveway of Margaret and Keith’s detached house. It stood in its own grounds in the most affluent district of the town. Keith switched off the engine and jumped smartly out from behind the wheel to open the rear door for Margaret and me.

Margaret smiled. “Don’t bother putting that beauty away,” she said, “there’s no-one at home, and we’re not overlooked by anyone here. Nobody is going to see you walking into the house with your cock out!”

Once inside, Margaret came into my arms and kissed me. She tasted wonderful – both sweet and musky, and I sucked greedily on her tongue. She moaned gently into my mouth, and I relaxed my suction and allowed her to withdraw her tongue. She broke off the kiss, and looked at me with a delighted smile on her face.

“You certainly know how to kiss,” she complimented me. “I thought my tongue was being ripped out of my mouth! Are you always so demanding?”

“You don’t know the half of it yet, lady ” I replied. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that you want fucking tonight. Well I’ll fuck you. I’ll make you cum like you’ve never cum before. But we do things on my terms, or not at all. Do I make myself clear?”

(Maybe I should have mentioned before this point in the story that I am not shy about my own abilities, and I also have a very dominant streak in my make-up. I like to be in charge, and if I don’t get my own way, things can turn very nasty very quickly. Which is why, in all my sexual experiences, I always lay out my terms before anything starts, so that what follows is consensual and enjoyable for all parties concerned.)

Margaret blinked uncertainly. She looked at Keith who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She licked her lips, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and replied,

“Of course you do, my dear. I like my lovers to take charge. I’ll do everything you require of me, so long as I get to feel that beautiful cock between my legs!”

I smiled approvingly, and reached out to fondle one of her tits. She made no move to stop me, and I felt her nipple harden against the palm of my hand. I gripped it between my thumb and index finger and squeezed.

She drew in her breath sharply, and then let out a low moan.

“Oh yes!” she whispered, elmadağ escort “squeeze them harder please. That feels so good.”

Standing in the hallway was not the ideal place to be, I decided. Pulling Margaret towards me by her nipples, I scooped her up into my arms. She weighed next to nothing, and she put her arms around my neck and smiled shyly at me.

“I like it rough,” she confessed. “I don’t mind if you spank me before you fuck me!”

I looked at her in amazement. How the hell had she known that I liked to spank my partners almost as much as I liked to fuck them? Then I recalled our conversation in the bar at the theatre, when I’d mentioned my exotic tastes. I reasoned that she’d taken a chance on us both liking the same thing and thus far, her gamble looked as if it was going to pay off.

“Let’s go into the living room,” she suggested. “It’s through there.”

She indicated the door with a nod of her head, and I turned and carried her towards it. Keith was there before me, and he opened it and stood aside as I carried his wife in.

It was a large room, tastefully decorated, and I walked over to a pair of leather settees, set at right angles to one another. Gently I put Margaret down on one of them, and I sat facing her on the other one.

“How is this going to work?” I asked. “I know you need fucking. Are we doing it here? Is your husband going to watch? You should know I don’t have any condoms, and even if I did, I’d not wear one. I fuck bareback, or not at all.”

Margaret sat upright and reached across and took my hand.

“We can do it wherever you want,” she smiled. “I want my cuckold to watch, if that’s ok with you? I’ve had a few lovers in the past, and he’s been allowed to watch me in the hope that when he gets to do sloppy seconds, he might be able to satisfy me. And as for condoms, I want to feel your cum in me, so I wouldn’t want you to wear one anyway!”

“What you want doesn’t matter a damn to me,” I replied. “You thought you were going to seduce me? Forget it! I take what I want, when I want it. If you don’t like it, I’ll walk out of here now!”

“Oh, but I do like it!” Margaret answered shyly. “You can have me anyway you want. I’m your fuck toy, your cock slut. I want…”

She grinned.

“You’re in charge,” she corrected herself. “My wants don’t count.”

I turned to look at Keith, who was standing a few feet away, watching our exchange and rubbing his cock through his trousers.

“Come here, Keith,” I said in a tone of voice that demanded instant obedience. He stood between us, and I told him to undress and put his clothes neatly on the settee next to me. He obeyed and was soon naked.

He had a light covering of black hair on his chest, and the beginnings of a middle aged paunch. He hadn’t exaggerated about his lack of size when he’d mentioned it back in the toilet in the Grand. He was semi hard at the moment, and it barely stuck out beyond his belly. I sneered at him, and he blushed.

“Is it any wonder that I choose to play around?” Margaret giggled. “Look at it! It’s like a piece of wet string!”

I looked at Keith with disdain. “When did you last cum?” I asked.

“I had a wank this morning Sir,” he replied. “Margaret wanted seeing to and when I put my cock in her, she complained that I wasn’t even touching the sides. So I went down on her and gave her a good licking. She said I could go and have a wank in the bathroom.”

Margaret giggled. “He can’t satisfy me at all,” she confessed, “and I do need filling and stretching regularly. Please Drew, will you fuck me now?”

“Not while you’re still clothed,” I replied. “I’ll consider it when you’re naked.”

She stood up and walked over to Keith turned her back on him and said,

“Unzip me, cucky. I’m about to have a real cock in me!”

Keith unzipped her dress and slid it down. Margaret stepped out of it and winked at me.

“Now my bra,” she said, and Keith unclipped her bra and lifted it free. Her small tits stood proudly for my inspection, and I liked what I saw. I nodded at her and she wiggled her panty-clad arse against Keith’s rapidly hardening cock.

“You heard what Drew said,” she murmured. “I don’t get fucked till I’m naked. Take my panties down.”

Keith hooked his thumbs into opposite sides of the waistband of Margaret’s panties and slid them down to reveal a neatly trimmed landing strip just above a slick looking cunt. She stepped out if them, opened her legs and slid a finger into herself.

“Hmm! A bit dry ” she reported. “Any ideas how you can get my juices flowing, lover?”

I ignored her question and beckoned her over to me. She did as she was bidden, and I patted my lap.

“Sit!” I instructed, and Margaret did as she was told, wrapping one arm around my neck, and pulling my head down towards her tit, in an unspoken invitation to suckle. I resisted, choosing instead to kiss her.

My tongue invaded her mouth, and was instantly greeted by Margaret’s tongue. We kissed for a few seconds, and then I broke off the kiss and looked at her.

“I thought I told you that I only do things on my terms?” I said softly. “I’ll get down to eating your tits when I’m ready to do so. There are a few things that need to be said and done before I decide if I’m going to fuck you or not.”

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