Putting on a Show - Sex Stories

Putting on a Show

Pete squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away, then opened them again. The letter was still in his hands. Words jumped off the typewritten page: Demand. 14 days. Final. With a slight tremor, he folded the page and slipped it back into the envelope, then slipped the envelope into a pile on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the thick, bound sheaf of paper and ran his finger over the title. 'Summer Heat'. He folded it open on page two and looked at the column of neatly typed words on the page, scanning the characters' names.

Beth, his sister, had convinced him to get reacquainted with the world of amateur dramatics. He hadn't set foot on a stage in 30 years, and the idea of doing so filled him with dread. He understood his sister's concern, though. Appreciated it. She was worried about him. And the theatre made her feel useful, fulfilled, so why wouldn't it be the same for him. Perhaps she was right. This play, though... it was either trash or genius. It landed somewhere between Samuel Beckett and 50 shades. A surreal sex romp, the director had called it. Thankfully, his job was to be understudy and help out behind the scenes. A gentle reintroduction to the thespian life.

Beth was one of the leads in this strange concoction. It was a play in two parts. The first, borrowing heavily from Beckett, had the cast playing jack-in-boxes, performing their lines with only their heads visible from converted tea chests dotted about the stage. The second, more ...

... troubling act, had Beth and the lead actor writhing in bed performing fake sex while the cast wandered around the set, apparently oblivious. It wasn't his cup of Joe, but hey, he didn't have to do much.

Beth's opposite number was Ken Jackson. A large man in his sixties, both their senior by a good decade. How Beth could simulate anything with him but disgust was beyond Pete. That really was acting, he thought. The fact that they'd both be scantily clad only made matters worse. Pete had had a glimpse of the fat, hairy man pawing at his sister during one of the rehearsals and was pretty sure he seen the old man's tighty-whities tent out during it. Beth seemed happy, though, so he'd just go along with it.

Beth's husband was away a fair bit on business. Her kids had grown and flown the nest. This was her only outlet, and he wouldn't resent her that. This got him thinking about his own wife, Kay. She'd passed a year before and he was having a hard time holding his life together. His eyes flicked to the stack of demand letter again and he sighed.

In reality, he was enjoying the time with his sister. Over the years, they'd drifted apart. When Kay died, Bath had appeared at his door out of the blue and had been stuck to him like glue since, maternal and worried for him. Pete and Kay hadn't been able to have kids, so Beth really was his only anchor in the world.

Opening night was rapidly approaching, and the demand on their time was increasing exponentially. Pete sat close to ...