Playing the Part

1. All characters are 18+

2. No characters resemble real people

3. Enjoy the Fiction

--

CHAPTER 2

--

"You asked her out? Are you not listening to me?" Eric's voice blared at me through my phone.

"What's wrong with that?"

He huffed. "I told you not to get attached. She'll just move back to the city after the show is over."

"I'm not getting attached," I lied. "I just asked her out to dinner. That's all."

"You're lying," Eric said, correctly guessing my intentions. "You're falling for her. I know you."

I slung my head low, though he couldn't see it. "Yes, but how could I not? She's smart, and talented, and pretty, and... amazing."

Eric cut me off. "Not to mention she looks like your ex-wife."

I scowled. "Really? You're bringing up Kelly? Now?"

"Think about it," he explained. "Both blondes. Both about the same height. And Kelly was in those plays with you in school."

"All of that is true, but that's only three things, and none of that matters," I insisted.

"I'm just saying."

"Well, don't say it anymore. I don't want to talk about Kelly. Especially not now." This conversation was starting to put me in a foul mood.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's okay."

"You got me tickets, right?"

"Yes. As promised, front row, opening night."

"YAASSS."

--

For the first two nights of rehearsal, Tuesday and Wednesday, we'd only covered Act 1 of the show. Tonight, Thursday, we would work on Act 2.

I feel at this point I should describe the basic plot of the show. In Act 1, wealthy heiress Eloise and normal guy Kenneth meet, and are attracted to each other, but because of miscommunications through their friend groups, they end up irritated with each other. Eloise is also harassed by her father, who's not a fan of her brash behavior, and her attraction to a man under her station. It's not until Act 2 that they reconcile, sing a duet, and kiss. Eloise's father realizes Kenneth isn't such a bad guy after all. Then they all live happily ever after, of course. Typical romantic drivel, combined with songs and humor.

So tonight, I was preparing for my first chance to kiss Serena. But it wasn't meant to be. She never showed. Chuck announced that she was ill. So I did my rehearsing with Betsy instead. As usual, she sang and danced well on her own, and complained about my dancing. When we sang the duet, she grumbled that I was out of tune. I'm pretty sure it was her, not me.

Then came the kiss scene. I wasn't thrilled about kissing Betsy, and I thought she'd feel the same. I was surprised when it looked like she was kinda into it. It felt weird and wrong to me. I'd known Betsy for so long, it was like kissing your cousin. You know, a really bitchy cousin that you didn't like, but your moms made you hang out with anyway. Thankfully, Chuck only made us practice that scene once.

I texted Serena during a break. 'Hey, heard you weren't feeling well. Will you be okay for tomorrow?"

She texted right back. 'Definitely, looking forward to it.' It was followed by a smile-face emoji.

I was relieved. As I worked with Betsy after that, I was comforted with the fact that Serena would soon return to the stage.

--

Friday night, I picked up Serena at her rental house. She was waiting on her front porch as I drove up, and when she stood, I saw her outfit. She was wearing a black dress, adorned with a red sash across the top. The hem met the middle of her kneecaps. Her blonde hair had been curled for the occasion.

I felt chivalrous, and hopped out of the car to open her door for her. "My lady," I said, giving a small bow.

She giggled and gave me a small curtsy in return. "Good sir," she said, then got into my car.

As we drove, she confessed to me, "I wasn't actually sick yesterday. I was just taking a personal day."

I nodded. "That's okay. Anything going on?"

"No," she said, then changed her answer. "Yes. My manager was calling me and bugging me."

"Ah. I don't have a manager, so I can't really relate."

"Frank has been pushing me to get into another show in the city, as soon as possible." She sighed. "He's driven, that's for sure."

"Driven by money? I can't imagine he's happy you're doing community theater for free."

"It's not just the money. He also benefits every time I do a big show. It's a feather in his cap. He didn't understand me doing this show at all. I told him if he didn't understand my reasons, then to treat it like I'm on vacation."

"Sure, summer vacation, less responsibility."

"Exactly," she said. "I won't have to do 8 shows a week. I can relax a little. And I can do a show that I want to, rather than the latest big craze."

I let that sink in for a minute. It made sense to me. Then I thought to ask, "How many shows have you been in, anyway?"

"Too many to count," she answered, then thought about it. "Probably 20? One every season."

"Every season? When was the last time you took a break?"

"Never. I never get breaks. It's always show after show since I was 18."

It was a sobering thought. "Well then, you deserve some time away." We pulled up to the restaurant. "Let's start with a nice dinner."

--

We ate at Bensons' Steakhouse, the only good steak restaurant in our small town. Lots of people I knew were there. Serena was new to them, so she stuck out like a sore thumb. People weren't staring, thankfully, but they were watching. Our waitress was Katie Benson, the teenage daughter of the restaurant's owners. The Bensons were friends of my parents, so I'd probably known Katie all her life. Like I said, small town.

"Hi Pat," she said. "Who's your friend?"

"Hi Katie, this is Serena."

"Nice to meet you, Serena," said Katie. "What can I get for you?"

"Martini, extra olives, please," Serena replied.

"I'll have the same," I added. "And water, please."

"Okay, be right back." Katie hurried off towards the bar.

Serena watched her go. "She wasn't wearing a name tag, but you knew her name. You know everyone in here, don't you?"

"Most of them," I said.

We had a good meal and a couple drinks each. As we ate, Serena would point at a person in the restaurant, and ask if I knew them, which I usually did. A former classmate from school. A woman who taught piano lessons to several kids in town. A man who lived a few blocks away. If people came close to the table, they said "Hi Pat", nodded to Serena, and moved on.

"I've been calling you Patrick. Does everyone call you Pat?"

I smiled. "I like it when you call me Patrick. It's like how Eloise always says Kenneth, not Ken."

"Well then, Patrick it is," she smiled back. "Still, must be nice to know everyone in town."

"Sometimes," I answered. "Sometimes it's a bit much. Everyone knows your business, or knows stories about you. When something big happens, it's a big scandal, and people tend to not forget it." I paused, then asked, "Does that happen to you? I bet since you're famous, lots of people know things about you."

She looked pensive, then shrugged. "I try to stay pretty private most of the time. But sometimes people do know more about me than I would prefer." I could tell neither of us wanted to really share, so I didn't push.

--

After dinner, I took Serena home, and walked her to the door. "Here we are," she said.

"Yup." I noticed she wasn't moving to open her door, and I took the hint. I leaned in and kissed her. She kissed me back. Her lips were soft, and still tasted of our martinis.

When we finally broke the kiss, I looked at her. "I was looking forward to doing that yesterday," I pointed out.

"Yeah," she said. "But I liked it better here."

"Yeah." I pulled her closer, and kissed her again, a longer, more lingering kiss. I knew I'd only known this girl for about a week, and we'd only been on one date, but I couldn't help picture in my head a long-term relationship with Serena.

When we ended the kiss, we looked into each others' eyes. She was the first to speak. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow." I repeated.

She smiled. "Um, okay. Goodnight, Patrick," she said, entering her house.

I smiled back. "Goodnight Serena."

--

The next few weeks followed a similar pattern, except Serena and I had now started texting during the days. I worked in an insurance office. I was good at being a mediator when people disagreed, and getting people to compromise. Even so, things were often boring until something big happened. Which was rare in Pendleton. I welcomed the quips and memes Serena sent me, and she was enjoying mine.

Then we'd have rehearsals in the evenings. I finally got to kiss her on stage that Tuesday. I didn't have to pretend to enjoy it, and neither did she. At one point, I saw Betsy Taylor scowling from offstage. I enjoyed that too.

We had another night off from rehearsals the following Friday, so I invited Serena to my house for dinner. She agreed on the condition that she'd bring dessert. Since it was summer and the weather was nice, I decided to take advantage of the grill. I marinated some chicken, and chopped up some veggies and seasoned them. The veggies would grill fine in a pouch of aluminum foil.

Serena arrived around 6:30, wearing a cute red top and tight denim capri pants, carrying a bottle of wine and a pie covered in plastic wrap. "Hi," I said, holding the front door open for her. "Did you make your own pie?"

"Yes, I did. I have other talents, you know," she smiled. "It's cherry."

"Sounds delicious." I led her to the patio in the back, where she watched me grill the chicken and vegetables. She helped me plate the food, and we ate at the small patio table, enjoying the sunset.

Before dessert, she went in the house to powder her nose, and I grabbed two small pie plates from the cupboard. I noticed she was taking a while to return, so I poked my head around the corner, spotting her looking at the photos I'd hung in the hall.

She was staring at one picture in particular. "Who's this?" she asked.

I went to stand next to her. The picture was of my college baseball team, right after we'd won the district championship. On the left side of the picture, a 20-year old me was grinning with my arm around a blonde girl. I gulped. I didn't want to answer, but I couldn't not tell her. "Kelly."

"Girlfriend?"

"Then, yes. Now, ex-wife."

She turned to look at me. "You were married."

"Yes, I was," I responded. "Not very long."

She nodded. "I looked at all these pictures, and saw family and friends, but only this one with you and a girl."

I motioned to the other pictures. "There were some more of her. But I took them down. But I couldn't replace this one. We won the trophy, it was a special moment."

Thankfully, she took my hand and led me back to the kitchen. She served up the pie, which was fantastic. But as we ate, I saw her thinking about it. "Now I'm putting it together," she finally said. "At the restaurant last week, people knew you, and seemed happy to see me with you. I think they were happy to see you dating again. You probably didn't date after your divorce, did you?"

I shook my head. "No. Not a lot of options here in town, anyway."

"She doesn't live here anymore, does she?" The way she asked, it wasn't checking about a threat to our budding relationship. It was more a curiosity about our tiny cloistered town.

"No. She moved away. I don't know where. I haven't seen here in years," I said, then chewed another bite of pie.

"I'm guessing, and correct me if I'm wrong, that people here kinda frown on divorce, if she left town."

I shook my head, "Divorce isn't that bad. It was the infidelity people took offense to."

"She cheated on you?" Serena gasped, dropping her fork.

"She left town because people kept talking behind her back about it. She was suddenly notorious for being a cheating wife. It's like I said the other night, people don't forget scandalous stories like that."

Serena put her hand on my arm. "I'm sorry," was all she said.

"You'd have found out anyway on your own," I told her. "Better that I tell the story than some busybody on Main Street."

We sat in silence, finishing our pie. "I'm glad you told me," Serena finally said, "about her. It's important. I'm glad I know." She smiled at me.

I tried to smile back. She kept smiling, so it broke my gloom and I was able to really smile. "There it is," she told me. "I like your smile." Then she did something I didn't expect. She got up from her chair, crossed the short distance to mine, and sat in my lap, her legs dangling on my left side. "Patrick, I can't believe anyone would cheat on you. You have been nothing but the perfect gentleman to me these past few weeks."

I wasn't sure what to say. "Thanks..." I started, but she grabbed my face and kissed me, shutting me up. I kissed her for as long as I could, but having not been prepared for it, I had to stop first to get a breath. "Wow. You're an amazing kisser," was all I could say.

She kissed me again. I felt the passion and heat of her body so close to mine. It's not a shock that I was starting to get aroused. This time, when she broke this kiss, it was her turn to speak. "I think you're liking this," she said with a knowing grin.

"I like you," was all I could say in response. We looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and knew where this was going.

She stood up, and took my hand. She led me from the kitchen towards the stairs. "Where's your bedroom?" she asked.

I took her up the stairs and to the right to my master bedroom. Once there, I pulled her into my arms. She pressed her body into mine as we tasted each other's mouths. Her hands were sliding up my shirt, feeling the skin of my back, as I moved my kisses from her mouth to her neck. My hands drifted downwards and grabbed her petite behind through her pants, pressing her pelvis into mine.

She lifted my shirt from me and her nimble hands started working on the front of my pants. It only took her a second to get me unzipped and was yanking my shorts and boxers downwards. My erection sprang up, and she gave an 'oh!' of surprise. Without waiting, I stripped her top from her. Her breasts, B or C cup, were on display in a semi-see-thru white bra.

I wanted to remove the rest of her clothes, to see all of her, but she had other ideas. She dropped to her knees, taking my dick in her hands, and gave it a small kiss on the head. It felt good. I knew the last time someone had done that for me was with my ex-wife. She started taking me into her mouth, and I shuddered. I brushed back her hair, and told her, "It's been a long time."

She nodded, understanding that I might not have the endurance, but she didn't stop. Her hands moved up and down my shaft while her mouth and tongue worked wonders on my head. It was magical, but it only lasted a couple of minutes. "Serena, I'm close," I stuttered out. She didn't let up; in fact, she went faster until I grunted and released into her mouth.

She lapped up every drop I gave, then quickly swallowed and smiled up at me. "How was that?" she asked.

I was dizzy. "Oh my god, that was... you're... fantastic."

She quickly stood up, skipped to the bathroom, and I heard the water run for a bit, and a quick gargling sound. When she came back, she attacked me with her kisses again, her mouth still wet from the tap. "Didn't think you'd like tasting your own stuff," she told me.

I nodded. "I appreciate it, but I think it's time I tasted yours," I said. I scooped her up, and laid her on my bed. She unbuttoned her capri pants, and I yanked them off, which took some considerable effort since they were pretty form-fitting to begin with. Finally, I chucked them behind me, and gazed at the wondrous beauty of Serena, in her matching white bra and panties, gazing up at me.

I crawled on the bed above her, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before moving south to her collarbone. I kissed her all over her upper chest. I spotted that her bra was a front-close model, so I snapped it open and continued my tasting down her left breast and took her nipple into my mouth, prompting a 'mmm' noise. I cupped both breasts in my hands - perfect handfuls, I noticed - and alternated sucking on both nipples. In between, I made my cheeks and lips brush the skin of her cleavage in between, which gave her goosebumps.

After paying proper attention there, I kissed her perfect navel, and grabbed the sides of her panties, easing them down her thighs. She helped me get them down to her ankles, and she sat up for just a moment to discard her opened bra as well, so I could now see her complete nudity. I noted as I took in the image, that while she was very in-charge and confident in normal situations, here she looked almost vulnerable, but she was trusting in me.

I spread her legs and found her flower, clean shaven, already wet with her juices. I wanted to dive right in, but instead I placed gentle kisses and nibbles above it, then to the side, and around it, until she pleaded with me, "Patrick, please!" That was the cue I was looking for, and I finally tasted her. She gasped at the first contact, then again as I continued to lick up and down her slit, and again when I bumped her clit with my nose. Every few licks, I was receiving an "Oh Patrick", and I took that as a cue to speed up slightly. It made me giggle, when after about eleven "Oh Patrick"'s in, she switched to "Oh, Patr-Oh OH OH OHHHH" as she came.

I only gave her a second to recover before asking, "Want me to rinse my mouth as well?"

She laughed and shook her head. "No, just fuck me, Patrick, fuck me."

I was ready to do that anyway, as my dick had recovered from its slumber during Serena's climax. I spread her legs wider and rubbed my member on her pussy, getting it lubricated first. "Put it in me," she asked.

"Are you on birth control?" I asked, glad I remembered before penetrating her.

"What?" She seemed a little stunned by the question at first, but then quickly answered, "No, so don't cum in me, but I need you in me now!"

I nodded, and pushed my way in. She was tight, but her juices were flowing enough that it provided enough lubrication. I watched her face the whole time, and though her eyes got wide, she was nodding, indicating she was okay and wanted more. I got all the way inside, and pulled out halfway, to start a slow rhythm. "Yes, Patrick, fuck me," she squealed, as I worked in and out of her warmth.

I couldn't help but think about the last time this bed had seen sex. It wasn't nearly as good as this. Those last few times with Kelly, it was like I was auditioning for a harsh judge. I'd find out later that she was comparing me to her new man. But I also recalled the first few times with Kelly, and it felt like this. Carefree and loving and tender.

I pushed thoughts of Kelly out of my mind, instead choosing to focus on Serena beneath me. She was moaning and it felt to me like she was getting close, so I asked. "Yes, just a bit more, more, yes, YES!" She squealed loudly, shaking under my body. I slowed down, and kept a very slow rhythm until she recovered enough to focus on me again. "Are you close too?"

"Yes," I hissed, picking up the pace again. It only took me another minute at a faster rate to drive me over the edge. "Coming," I said.

"Come on my chest," she told me. I pulled out and stroked myself once, twice, then gave a loud grunt as I unloaded, squirt after squirt, all over her breasts and stomach. I looked down on her, taking in the sight, and she giggled at me. "I think we've made a mess," she said.

"I think you're right," I told her. I took her hand and helped her up from the bed. "Let's get you cleaned up," I said, bringing her into the bathroom.

We showered, cleaning up, and I miraculously was able to go again. I have to give the credit to being next to a naked, smoking hot blonde, who kept playing with my dick until it was hard again. Our mouths seemed forever connected by our kisses. I was able to lift her in my arms, press her back against the tile, and fuck her again, pulling out to spray my seed at the drain. All in all, probably the most and greatest sex I'd ever had in one night.