The Show Must Go On... or Not

I took a deep breath in. The theater always had a certain smell: wood and paint and paper. But, in the wings, it was different: you could smell the fabric of the curtains and the musk of unkept instruments from the orchestra below, and the emptiness on stage coupled with the energy from the audience was something almost tangible. It brought me back to my theater days when I used to act instead of writing. Albeit, I was in elementary school back then, and only comfortable enough to audition for anything because my step brother ran the elementary acting program back then.

It took the urging of my good friend María, our resident costume designer for this little excuse of a community college, to convince me to actually try out for a role again, and a huge letdown when I only landed the position of understudy. Understudies are never really used, and essentially meant that they still wanted me in the program, but didn't actually have a role that they wanted me to act out. But, thanks to a bad bug making its rounds through the campus, one of our leads, Chet, was unable to perform and it was time for me to fill his shoes.

"Full house out there." I turned around. María.

"What are you doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'what are you doing here?' I'm in costume design. It's my job to be here."

"Yeah, but-" My job is all in the writing. I guess I'd never really been backstage all the much during actual performances and the later rehearsals. It was odd to see her in action instead of watching how the costumes were shaping up somewhere more quiet and laid back while we caught up.

She looked so out of place- in a single snug black outfit with a roll of safety pins at her hip among everyone else's colored gowns and poofy sleeves.

"What, you don't want me here?"

"No, no, it's not that, I'm just..."

"Nervous?" she finished, face softening.

"No. No, of course not."

She gave me a knowing look that told me she clearly didn't buy it. "Anyway, I just came to check your costume. Your costume falling off is one thing you won't have to be nervous about, thankfully."

She circled around me, studying my clothes and checking the tie on my baker's apron. "Chet was a bit bigger than you, but since all of this ties and doesn't have to be sewn to size, I think you're good... for this scene. For the next one, race up to the dressing room so that we can make some last second adjustments."

She stepped back to study her handiwork. "Alright, Sam. You're good to go. Good luck."

"Ahem." I cleared my throat noisily and she turned back.

"Ah, right. Sorry. Break a leg."

And, before I had the chance to respond, places were being called, the curtain was rising, and my attention was being drawn elsewhere.

And it was everything I remembered it to be when I was little- both completely exhilarating and harmonious at the same time. There's something to be said about playing the part of a character whose life is much more exciting than anything you could ever dream of in front of hundreds of critical onlookers. But, it feels right, like you're taking some of that fantasy from that script and not just bringing it to life, but living it yourself. It's... fun, for lack of a better word.

But, just as quickly as my scene began, I found myself back in the wings, having completed my part in the scene.

A younger student I didn't recognize grabbed my arm. "María is waiting for you. She said to hurry," the girl whispered. I had to contain a chuckle. María can be snarky, sure, but I'll never know what she's done to some of these newer students to scare them the way she has. One way or another, it was best not to keep her waiting.

The school was never great to begin with, but was going uphill quickly. Unfortunately, that 'uphill' was not focused on the arts. As the backstage was so small you could barely even call it backstage, the rooms makeup, dress, and half of the production's props was upstairs above the theater, with curtains sliding on tracks in two corners for changing (though most people didn't bother with the curtains) and lit mirrors mounted on the opposite end for makeup.

"Hey!" She smiled as I walked in. "How'd it go?"

I couldn't help the drunken grin that slipped onto my face and was met with a too-hard but well-natured jab to the ribs.

"See? I told you you'd love it, but for years, you just wouldn't listen."

I winced and rubbed my side. "Uh... you're welcome?"

"Anyway, here you are." She handed me several folded pieces of fabric: the costume for the next scene. Each piece was astoundingly thin, save for a leather jacket. I guess that's another place the school decided they could cut the budget.

"Erm. I guess you can step behind one of the curtains to change. Just... let me know when it's okay to look."

"Yeah, sure."

Behind the curtain, I slid off my baker's apron, shirt, and pants, and stepped into the new set of clothes. The clothing pooled around my ankles and waist and covered my wrists. I had to grab the waistband of the pants to keep them from falling down completely. Shit. I knew Chet was a big guy, but he wasn't that much bigger, was he? There was no way anyone, not even María, would be able to fix this in time.

"Ummm, María?"

She poked her head in slowly and peeked one eye open. "That didn't sound like a good 'Ummm María'"

I motioned down to my oversized outfit as best I could without letting anything slip over my shoulders or waist.

She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Okay. Okay, we can work with this."

"We can? How?"

María moved behind me and took a fistful of the shirt's fabric, which she pinned in a giant role.

"With a ton of safety pins."

"Won't people see that?"

"Not if we pin the inside of the leather jacket, and use it to cover up your shirt."

And slowly, María worked her magic. The chest grew tighter, the sleeves came up to my wrist, and the length came to the hem of my pants in record time.

"We've gotta take care of these pants now. We don't want them falling down on stage," she laughed.

"No, we don't."

And she went back to work. I jumped as she slipped a finger down underneath the waistband. "Gotta pin on the inside so that people don't see," she said. I merely nodded, but felt a worrying rush of blood drop down between my legs, and a twitch.

No. No, no, no. Why then?

I closed my eyes and breathed out, willing my penis to stay calm before it got too hard.

On the next pin, María was working on a section right in front of my hip bone and accidentally reached down into my boxers instead of just the costume pants. She felt around for the pin, fingers only a few inches from the base of my dick. It swelled with anticipation, and somewhere in my head, a not-so-smart part of my brain indulged in a brief fantasy of her reaching down just a bit more and stroking up the underside. It's only when I sucked in air through my teeth that she realized that her hand is down my boxers and not the costume pants, and abruptly pulled her hand away with a quick 'sorry' and joke about the pressure of working under a time crunch.

My dick had all but jumped to attention, not fully hard, but clearly visible through the thin fabric of the pants. I stared at the ceiling, trying to think of any way possible to smoothly exit out of the situation without María noticing. My mind blanked on me.

Amazingly, María hadn't noticed yet. Her head was a few inches above my penis, eyes solely glued to the hem of the pants that she was working on, and nowhere below. As she moved to the very front of the pants, every exhale she made I could feel on my dick, like warm shocks prompting it to enlarge and harden more. The pants didn't hold it down at all. It wasn't until it sat high and actually poked her in the chin that she noticed.

At first, she tried swatting whatever was on her chin away, but as soon as her hand came into contact with my dick, she looked down and stared, eyes widening. For once, she had no clever comeback. Not even enough wit to make fun of me. I cringed and squeezed my eyes shut so hard that it was painful.

María stared like a deer caught in the headlights for another second longer before just deciding to ignore it and to keep pinning. Part of me felt relieved that she knew and that I was no longer waiting for her to realize what was going on, while a larger part wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"Well, we're done." María stood to examine the pinning, still not deciding to address the elephant in the room. "Most of the audience shouldn't be able to see the safety pins."

Silence.

"You can't go out on stage like that," she finally said. She was right. Those pants hid nothing, not that any pants could hide this. It looked like I stuck a water bottle in them.

"Uh... yeah."

Forget going out on stage, I couldn't even leave the room.

María stepped forward to readjust a safety pin, and slowly moved a hand down to cup the underside of my penis through the fabric of the pants.

I bit the inside of my cheek. "You're not helping."

She looked up at me, one eyebrow raised. "Yes, I am."

"No, you're really not."

Without meeting my eyes, she slowly reached below the hem of my pants, then the hem of my boxers. I gasped. Oh. Oh. That's how she was helping.

"May I?" she asked, fingertips so close that I could feel the heat of them on my dick. I nodded wordlessly. My mind reeled and I just stared down at her hand with my mouth agape. For years I'd been made fun of for seeming 'gay.' All I could think of then was that the joke was on them now. She slipped her hand lower and closed it around my shaft. A shock went up my spine and I breathed out slowly, unevenly, as she began to pump her hand up and down.

God, why did it feel so much better when it's someone else's hand?

Still, I was so tense. It was just a thin curtain in here separating us from anyone retrieving props outside. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall, trying to relax and take in the feel of her smooth hands gliding up and down my shaft, one reaching down over the waistband and pumping, while the other reached up through the pants leg, switching between teasing the head and playing with my balls.

She stopped for a moment and removed her hands to pull down the pants below my knees. My dick bounced out, the head glistening with pre cum.

"Trying to get a better view?" She didn't say anything, and instead leaned in and licked, long and hard, from the base all the way up to the tip, where she swirled her tongue until my legs began to shudder.

"Mph." I didn't know what had gotten into her. We'd spent years as totally platonic friends, best friends even. I'd normally never want to do anything to jeopardize that friendship, but I was well beyond the point of caring. She sucked gently on the head and I clenched my jaw. It didn't even matter how tense I was anymore. I felt the beginnings of an orgasm spark whether that was an appropriate place or not.

María took as much of it as she could into her mouth, licking and sucking, and twisted her hand around the base. She then started to swirl her tongue and probe the tip every time she came up. My breathing grew ragged and she picked up the pace. I opened my eyes to look down at her and was met with her dazzling wide eyes peering up at me at she sucked me off.

The sight alone elicited a muted groan and she stopped to hold a finger to her lips, a string of drool connecting her lips to the tip of my cock. More precum beaded up on the tip, but it was back in her mouth and she was going full speed ahead again before it had the chance to drip onto the floor.

After just another minute, my legs started shaking and my breathing grew even raspier. I knew how important it was to remain quiet, but there was nothing that could be done.

"María," I breathed. "María, I'm close."

I hadn't been sure if she wanted me to pull out to cum, but she only increased the pace, bobbing up and down on me impossibly fast while locking her huge eyes with my own.

I bit the inside of my cheek, hard, as I felt myself approaching the point of no return.

"Stop," I said suddenly, hoping that she was a good a listener, because if she continued on for even another second, I'd have blown.

She stopped as soon as I said the words, looking up at me with an arched eyebrow, confused. My dick throbbed, painfully looking for its denied orgasm.

"What's wrong?"

"I was about to cum," I panted.

María only laughed in response. "That's the whole point."

"I don't want to finish yet."

"Why not?"

I merely glanced up and down her lithe body in response.

She looked up at the clock. "We don't have time."

"Is that a no, then?"

She bit her lip, looking from the clock back to me. And then, without another word, started stripping. She peeled off her leggings while I undid her blouse, full round breasts spilling out into my hands. I massaged them gently and leaned down to take one into my mouth. She gasped and despite berating me for my volume just moments before, was put in exactly the same position.

I kissed down from her breasts, over her stomach, and hovered above the waistband to her thong. She was wet enough that the even the fabric was saturated in places and the inside of her thighs shone in the light.

She closed her eyes and her breath quivered in anticipation, and in one fluid motion, I moved the thin strip of fabric aside and buried my head between her legs, licking at and sucking her clit as best I could in our cramped surroundings. Her knees buckled and she reached up to grab the curtain rod that kept us separated from the rest of room for balance. My heart froze for a moment in fear that maybe someone exceptionally quiet was still in the room, but the curtain rod held and I went back to eating her out, this time with my hands placed firmly on her hips, supporting her up against the wall.

"Sam?" Her speech was breathy and hard to understand.

"Yeah?" I asked, pulling away.

She reached over and pulled the tunic off over my head, and then pulled my hips to hers, placing my penis up against her entrance. I lifted her up so that her knees were wrapped around my hips and slowly pressed inside of her.

The feeling was indescribable, hot and lush and squeezing around my member like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. And as I kept pressing slowly inwards, it only got more and more intense. I eventually bottomed out, balls deep, and had to take a moment to compose myself. It felt like if I even did so much as twitch, I might cum right then and there.

Finally, I rocked my hips, earning a slight whimper of a moan from María, and began slowly fucking her up against the wall, a plump round ass cheek in each hand.

She threw her head back, mouth open, though no sound came out. I picked up the pace, thrusting forward with more momentum, and she seemed to melt into the wall. I wasn't even sure if I should be trusted to hold her up as my own mind was foggy and hands were clumsy, clouded by the pressure building far too quickly between my legs.

I breathed and slowed back down, but María was having none of that and began rocking her hips against mine.

While I'm no marathoner in bed, I'd had a track record of some pretty impressive times in the past. This wasn't going to be one of those times, though. The rocking motion of her hips alone nearly pushed me over the edge.

"If you keep that up, I'm going to cum in no time," I warned her through clenched teeth.

"I know." She was looking at me with barely open, hazy looking eyes, hardly able to focus in the throes of bliss. "Me, too."

And, with that, she somehow began thrusting her hips against mine even faster, pussy clamping down as she approached orgasm.

Fuck it, I decided, and, biting my cheek, thrust back against her full force and full speed, jackhammering her against the wall, her breasts bouncing from the force of it all. I breathed in and out slowly, trying to keep my head on straight, but no force on earth could stop the tide of pleasure building, or distract me from the feeling of her pussy as I pumped in and out of her, soft ridges all but torturing me as they teased the sensitive underside of my dick. I felt the point of no return approaching quickly and as much as I wanted María to cum on my dick, I needed to cum so badly it was painful. My body wasn't giving me any choice in the matter, and my penis began to swell.

"Fuck. I'm about to cum," I warned María.

The words hadn't even fully left my lips fully when her body spasmed and she leaned forward to moan into my chest while her pussy clamped around my dick.

And that finally did me in. I exploded forth, eyes rolling back, every spasm of her vagina squeezing out a new forceful rope of cum. My balls clenched and the orgasm continued to wash over me like a tidal wave until there was nothing left and the two of us were left trying to catch our breath. My dick and her vagina were left throbbing and spasming in small aftershocks of our orgasms, and cum leaked out of her and dripped down onto her ass.

María gasped. "Whoa."

"Whoa is right."

There was a long pause before she said: "I guess we should get cleaned up now, huh?"

"I guess so."

I slid out of her and handed her a spare scrap of cloth to clean up with. She looked up at the clock. "Oh, Sam! You'd better get going before they send someone to hunt you down. You should have been down there by now!" Sure enough, I heard the faint stomping of feet from the stairwell outside- probably someone sent to retrieve me after I'd held up the production.

"Err, I don't know if that's the best idea." I shift awkwardly from foot to foot and motion down towards my groin.

I'm still rock hard.