Putting on a Show - Sex Stories

Putting on a Show

... Melissa, the writer and director, as she watched the rehearsal from the stalls. Pete had a growing thing for her. She was in her mid-thirties, a voluptuous redhead whose touchy-feely theatrical ways could be easily misinterpreted by an old fellah like him. But he enjoyed them nonetheless.

The morning before opening night arrived and Pete woke to fifteen text messages and his phone blaring. Beth.

"Hey, sport. How you doing?'

"Ok, sis. Where's the fire?"

"Hmmm. Funny you should say that. And you a fireman."

"I'm not a fireman, Beth. I'm sound engineer. An out of work one at that"

"I meant it metaphorically."

"Oh, right. How so?"

"It's Ken."

"What's Ken? Is he ok?"

"I thinks so. But he's out."

"Out, what?"

"He had a doctor's appointment yesterday. Just routine. They plugged him up to an ecg and now he's gowned up and waiting for someone to stick a stent in his heart."

"But the play?"

"Exactly. Hence, fireman Pete."

"No. No. No." Pet said, his heart suddenly identifying with Ken's.

"Oh, come on. Melissa's counting on you. We're all counting on you."

"Melissa can swing." Pete snapped.

"She'd be very grateful if you saved the day. Very."

Pete sighed and felt his cock twitch. Melissa had been a major player in his fantasy life of late and little Pete, he knew, had already agreed.

Beth asked him to drop everything and meet her at the theatre at 2. They'd run through the play again and make sure Pete was ok with the lines ...

... and blocking.

"Christ, I'm either in a box with you or in a bed with you. Not too much to work out, is there? As for dialogue, it's mostly grunts and groans."

"See. You're halfway there already."

The theatre was dark when Pete arrived, he'd seen Beth's car outside so correctly guessed she'd be in the dressing rooms backstage waiting for him. Pete knocked on the door of her room, and Beth cheerily called out "Enter."

Pete opened the door and felt his mouth drop open and water.

Beth, his 50-odd year-old sister was facing him, all smiles, wearing a skimpy white t-shirt and men's tighty-whities. Now, Beth wasn't bad looking, but her love handles had spread into quite a belly, and her once pert breasts had doubled in size and drooped so her massive, dark brown areolas could be seen through the white material just above her belly button. Her hips were wider than they once were and had rolls of fat on them. Her thighs were tree trunks and the flesh between them squashed together in the opposite of a thigh gap. He was also disconcerted to find he found it hard to drag his eyes away from the dark patch being pressed tightly against the front of her underwear by her abdominal fat. And were there tufts of pubic hair sticking out the sides of the crotch? Oh my, his sister was a knock-out, albeit a 50-something, plus-sized knock-out.

Pete had never thought of his sister as anything but a sister, so he was non plussed by the tightening in his own underwear.

"Sis!" He ...