Undressed in Stages

At last I had the time to return to my great love ... amateur theatre.

Well, it wasn't all that amateur. The theatre group to which I belonged ran as a highly professional operation, making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. It just didn't pay the actors. It was considered a privilege to be accepted for a role in their productions. I had appeared in a few during my university years – the usual My Fair Lady's and stuff, plus the odd experimental pieces. Always as a support actor, never the main role, something I kind of wanted to change sometimes.

But then came my years of hard work when after graduating, I decided that, rather than be a wage slave for a big law firm, I would set up my own practice. Crazy really, but it you make these decisions in life and I never regretted this one, even when I was working six and seven days a week.

I'm a driven little daisy when I want to be.

But now, four years on, my legal firm was up and running beautifully, so much I had an offer from a larger firm to join them as a partner. Not a wage slave, but fully fledged in the boardroom. Not bad for a girl of 27. Not bad for a girl in the very blokie world of the law.

Anyway, now my nights would be my own again, and my weekends. Such things as relationships would be possible. And SEX. That was the other great love besides amateur theatre that had suffered over the past few years.

Amazing how both would be remedied in the one fell swoop.

Treading The Boards, the theatre group, were getting ready for their annual unabashed bums on seats productions just as my life was freeing up. They mix these with experimental and avant garde theatre, the former bankrolling the latter.

There was going to be a big blousy murder mystery, high camp, big drawing room finish as the detective slowly eliminates all except the villain.

It was Agatha Christie with a lot of comedy, I was told when I rang up to inquire about it.

"Any parts for a woman my age?"

The answer was very encouraging. There was a prudish young woman, and a flashy lap dancer who both end up at the proverbial big mansion.

I rolled up for the rehearsals, full of expectation but not really caring which role I got. Although the lap dancer, I must say, sparked some response I hadn't expected. I thought about what the role might entail in terms of costumes and so on. Or might not entail and I suddenly felt a rush of excitement of being on stage with not a lot on.

"Too long without sex girlie," I thought.

Anyway, auditions for the prude came first.

There were about 10 other women and we were all given a copy of the script.

I did my bit in front of the director and two other theatre board heavies.

The fact I knew them as mates didn't make it any easier for either of us.

But I respected their ability to make the right decision.

They then said there would be a break for 10 minutes, and they would do the auditions for Luscious Lilly, the Lap Dancer.

As I sipped on a glass of champagne in the corner, going over the script, I overheard the director say he thought another girl would be good for the prude, but wondered if I might be the right one for Lilly.

"We all knows she's got the body for it," he said to one of the theatre heavies. "And given the costumes and that scene with the policeman that's important.

"But she's a lawyer, can't imagine her having the oom pa pa to pull off the sexy bits."

Well that was it. A challenge.

I went to the loo, put on fresh lipstick, messed up my hair a bit.

Having a further good look at myself in the mirror, I thought about what else I could do to make Little Miss Lawyer into Little Luscious Lilly.

I undid a couple of buttons on my blouse. Naaah, that's no good. So I took the blouse off ... then my bra.

When I put the blouse back on I did just one button up and tied the bottom in a not. I pulled it as tight as I could so nipple showed through. I was either going to make the biggest fool of myself or ...

I desperately wanted to be, and again I got that frisson as the thought of doing something reckless, a bit naughty in front of an audience.

I went back out and quietly joined the other women. I got a few strange looks, but there you go.

My turn came to read and it was part Marilyn Monroe, part cat as I slinked about, rather than just sitting in the chair and reading.

At one stage I leant over the table and gave the panel a good view of what wasn't tucked inside my shirt, saying very quietly bet you've never seen a lawyer do that before!

I got the part!

A fortnight later rehearsals started. I knew some of the cast and a few of the crew.

But there was a new guy on the lights. His name was Adam. He was from inter-state, an actor, but had arrived too late for rehearsals, so offered to help with the technical stuff. There are always vacancies backstage.

I guess he was about 29 or 30. I noted, as you do, he didn't wear a wedding ring, well not to rehearsals.

I didn't see a lot of Adam at first but as the rehearsals got out of the living room stage and into the theatre more often, we'd bump into each other.

Then after one rehearsal four or five of us ended up at the pub. We started chatting and he commented on how well I was going.

"You like Luscious Lill, do you," I asked?

"It's a fun part and you do it well," he replied.

"Yeah, well I'm not really like her you know, it's quite a real character change for me from little miss mousie lawyer, " I said.

"You're a lawyer," he said. "I would never have guessed it. I am an accountant and you know what they say about us, we use our personalities for birth control."

I laughed. I had heard it said about lawyers too.

"I'm working for a new firm in town," Adam continued. "I was keen to get out of my old job.

"Things had fallen apart a bit ... "

I sensed it was not appropriate to go too far into his private life at this stage.

So the subject was changed ... part small talk, part in-depth stuff about acting.

He hadn't seen the play in toto and wanted to know more about it. I told him about the scene where I was supposed to seduce the policeman, slowly taking off my top as the lights fade.

He laughed. Well you be relying heavily on me then won't you to get the timing right on the lights.

"Oh heck, I hadn't thought of that," I said. "I just considered it would happen, but if the lights didn't work or something, what would I do?"

Again rather than feeling troubled about the possibility of being left severely undressed in front of an audience, I felt excited by it.

"Oh well, I guess the people in the front row will get more then they bargained for," I said dismissively trying not to give up any hints of what I was really feeling, a deep desire for it to really happen.

Rehearsals rolled on, as they do. Adam and I spent a lot of time in each other's company.

He had opened up a bit about his past life. He had found his long-term girlfriend in bed with one of the senior partners from his last firm.

He had tried forgiveness, staying with her and working for him, but it all just disintegrated and he resigned

Slowly, as we got to know each other better, the deep sadness in his eyes softened. He had a divine laugh and when he did laugh, his eyes lit up.

It became my ambition to make him laugh as often as possible. I knew exactly what I was doing and where it was leading.

And it did, the night before the technical rehearsal, we ended up back at my flat. I fucked his brains out.

Sorry there is no other way to put it. It had been a long time. I'd forgotten how good it felt to have another person's skin rubbing warmly against mine, to hear the hum of a man getting head, to feel him go inside me. As soon as he came the first time, I took him in my mouth again. We bonked like this all night ... my orgasm, his orgasm, then a head job.

Eventually, we stopped for breath. In the pale post coital half light I saw a happy smile on his face.

"Boy," he said, "I haven't had sex like that for a long time.

"Why thank you kind sir," I said, dropping into my Luscious Lil voice.

We cuddled and talked.

Then he said: "I think I'm going to get all jealous now watching you undressing on stage in front of all those other people."

"Do you want to know something," I said. "I actually ... "

I stopped.

"What," he said?

"Well," I stumbled, "I don't know how to say it, but, well if the lights didn't work and I had to, you know, go a bit further ... well I don't know, it's something that, ummm, it would kind of excite me a bit."

"A bit of an exhibitionist side to the staid lawyer, eh," he quizzed?

"Leave it," I said and grabbed his cock and begun sucking again. He did. He had other things on his mind.

Opening night was a hoot ... lots of laughs and with all the usual freebies, a good house.

There were a few wolf whistles when I reached for my top and the lights faded.

One seemed to come from the control room. It did.

As I climbed all over Adam back at his place after the first night party, drunk with wine and lust, he admitted as much.

"I want you to feel that at least one member of the audience appreciated what was on show," he said.

It made me feel very good that more than one liked what they saw.

The season rolled on nicely. Good reviews meant good houses. There were plenty of laughs and plenty more wolf whistles. I waited for them each night and counted them.

Adam denied he was among them.

"Don't need to," he said. "You've obviously got plenty of admirers, probably a few of them in raincoats in the front row."

I slapped him gently across the face, but then wondered, were they people coming to see me undressing on stage?

Was I having that affect on people?

On the second last night, I grabbed Kevin, the box office manager, and asked him if we had any regulars in the audience, people who had been to more than one performance, or were they newcomers each night?

I pretended I was interested in whether the good houses were a genuine sign that the play was going down well around town.

"Oh year, plenty of good support, the feedback is always positive and people tell us they had the lpay recommended to them when they get their tickets," he said.

"But ... "

He stopped and looked down.

"But what," I said.

"Well, there have been a few discussions about the scene where you take your top off," said Kevin. "I overheard a couple of blokes saying one night they had seen a bit more than the first night, so I guess they might be coming along for just that scene."

"How old," I asked, hoping they weren't in their 90's and in rain coats.

"Oh about your age," said Kevin.

"Thanks," I said, hoping that nothing had been given away to Kevin. I got a thrill from the thought of it. People were buying tickets to see me.

After the performance that night, I again went back to Adam's. We climbed all over each other in bed.

In post coital conversation, I told him what Kevin had said.

"And," he said?

"Well, it makes a girl look feel good, especially a girl who, until you, was pretty well out of circulation for the past few years.

"It's kinda nice to know you've still got it."

Adam laughed. "You certainly have," he said, "well certainly from where I am looking."

"Good enough to share," I said.

"Yes, but not too much," he replied.

We both knew what we were talking about.

Final night was a full house. The laughs came early and loud and the cast was revelling in the positive feedback.

Gags were delivered with an extra punch ... or held back to get the audience right in.

I slinked on and off stage a few times and really tarted up the part, hips wobbling, a couple of bends forward to the audience to reveal a bit more cleavage than usual.

I knew where we were going, and so did Adam sitting somewhere up in the dark at the back of the theatre.

I wondered which of the blokes I could see in the first few rows were back for a second or third time.

I concentrated on my lines but always there was this frisson about what was coming next.

Interval seemed to last forever. I fussed about my costume. When no one was looking, I put a soft make up on my breasts to even out the tan.

I was almost shaking with the excitement, could I really do it when the time came. Would the time came, after all, Adam and I hadn't said any actual words, didn't have a concrete plan, it was just ... well just.

Maybe I was getting myself excited over nothing. Maybe I would work myself up for something that wouldn't happen, the lights would just go dim and I would never know if I could have gone through with it.

Aside from the young blokes back for a second or third time, I tried not to think about who else was in the audience ... but couldn't help it. Who would be there, who would see me ... the tension was exhilarating and dulling at the same time.

"One minute," cried the stage manager.

We huddled at the edge of the stage. The play continued, the laughs still coming.

The lights then dimmed and when they came up I was in the police station, being questioned by a detective.

The plot had him quite taken by my charms, but trying very hard to conduct a forceful interview.

He would blaze away, but then lose his train of thought as I lounged back in the chair, or lent forward.

In the heat of his questioning, he demanded I make a clean breast of everything. The audience roared.

"Well if you insist officer," I said, "I've noticed you've been trying to get me to do that since we got here."

Normally on that line, I would turn my back on the audience, reach for the bottom of my top and begin to lift it and the lights would out.

This time, I faced the audience. There was no hint of the dimming light.

I grabbed the bottom of my top, took a deep breath.

Still no dimming light.

The actor playing the detective blinked for a minute as he too was thrown by the lack of darkness.

The scene would be ruined if we just walked off.

So there was nothing else for it, a fact I had known for at least 24 hours now. My arms came up and so did the top.

I felt my breasts being uncovered.

I heard the gasps from the audience.

I lifted the top off my head and gazed into the astonished faces in the audience and then turned to the detective and ad-libbed: "Clean enough for you?"

The lights went down and the cheers went up.

I went backstage to a host of astonished and grinning cast members all saying "I don't remember rehearsing that!"

"What went wrong with the lights," another asked.

"Just stay focussed on the rest of the play," I answered, unfazed, tingling inside though at what I just done.

I bet the director who wondered if I was up to the part of the tart was feeling a tingle or two, as well, as he watched the final scenes from his appointed chair in the audience.

From there he could gauge what was happening on stage, and also the audience's response. That would be worth hearing about, too, later. But first let's get this job done.

When the play did end, I got the hugest ovation of the night, then the whole cast took the final bow.

"Ummm, nice ad-libbing up there," said the director. "I wondered how you were going to get out it, what happened with the lights, you should have heard the reaction in the audience, it went down pretty well, you showed a lot of character ... "

He was burbling.

"I think I showed a bit more then that. Don't worry about the lights, I will deal with Adam myself," I said.

"Did the audience like it?"

"Like it," said the director, "they loved it, you don't often see them ... sorry, that ... in amateur theatre."

"That's very nice to hear," I said modestly.

As I spoke, Adam appeared in the dressing rooms.

"I need to speak with you," I said, "alone!"

At that we slipped out of the theatre, through the crowd at the front sipping champagne, into his car and to his house.

I fucked him senseless.