Date: Fri, 1 Jul 2005 01:10:26 +0100
From: Story Teller <storymeister@gmail.com>
Subject: New Story, All's Well That Ends Well, Gay/ Beginnings

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.