Broadway Lust Story

This is a one-off story, inspired by a reader following some comments on one of my previous stories (BDSM Manor 8).

It's not a BDSM story, which is why it's here. To my commenter who made this suggestion. You're welcome and enjoy.

Tess-O'Meter -- Green.

-X

Tony pulled on some old shorts and a tee. It was unseasonably hot for June.

As he turned, the only other person in the room had also finished changing and was ready to go.

"Excited?"

Tony let out a breath, "Nervous."

Wally moved forward and gave him a quick hug. He was in his late-forties and had been dancing for over forty years. He had also danced in more of these routines than any other person.

"You'll be great. Promotion to lead dancer is a big deal."

"Does it count as a promotion if you're not getting paid?" Tony joked, but then stopped and gripped Wally's arm.

"You've danced with me before Wally. Do you think I can do this?"

Wally stopped, looking at Tony seriously, "You're one of the most talented dancers I've ever worked with," he said, "I have no doubt you'll be amazing."

Tony blushed slightly, "That means a lot coming from you, Wally."

"And," Wally continued, wrapping an arm around Tony's shoulders and leading him towards the rehearsal room, "you will be delighted to hear that the air-con is broken."

"Oh great," Tony muttered as they joined the rest of the dancers working on this routine.

Tony greeted people and waved 'Hi' to others, and then stopped short as he turned and saw Ty leaning against a wall watching him across the room.

Tony's skin prickled. It was more like being touched than watched. Ty's dark eyes seemed to possess him.

Someone called him and with some relief he turned away to get some updated instructions.

-X

Three hours later the room was ripe with honest sweat, hard dancing, and intense concentration.

The windows thrown open to encourage the non-existent breeze. Where was Madame Morrible when you needed her?

Tony wiped sweat from his eyes and tried to focus as they were given new directions.

"Dylan," the choreographer, Mark, indicated one of the dancers, grouped closely around Tony. "When you run your hand down his chest, can you actually slip under and cup him? We want a really obvious touch. This isn't a cheeky routine, it's a dark and dirty one."

Tony snorted out a laugh as a look of absolute horror crossed Dylan's face, "You know I'm straight right?"

"It's okay Dylan," Ty drawled, "we won't tell your wife."

"Gee, thanks," Dylan stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Now, how can I stop her from coming to see the show?"

Then he laughed and reached for Tony, "Kinda like this?" he looked questioningly at Tony to make sure he was happy, and then began running his hand down Tony's damp T-shirt.

Tony braced, but as Dylan's hand slipped gently under his balls, he was helpless.

He giggled, as his knees buckled. Gripping the arm of another dancer who had grabbed him around the waist to stop him falling, he steadied himself and apologized.

"Sorry, sorry, thanks for the catch."

"Oh, you're not ticklish?"

Tony shrugged, "A little!"

Dylan gave Mark a 'what now?' look.

"Try it firmer," he instructed, "and Tony, I want you to thrust into his hand when he cups you. Like you don't want to but can't help yourself."

Tony nodded and Dylan ran his hand back down and then, as he was cupped firmly and confidently, Tony thrust himself forward.

This routine really was going to be filth, but at least it didn't tickle anymore.

"Do it again," Mark instructed, and watched closely as they did it again.

"Okay," he looked at them both, "are you both comfortable with that?"

Dylan shrugged, "As long as Tony's okay with it."

"Yea, it's fine with that amount of pressure," Tony confirmed.

Mark nodded, "Alright. Remember it. You're both professionals. For now Dylan, just mime the movement without making contact. You can save the actual groping for the big night."

Dylan gave a thumbs up, "Happy with that, Boss."

"Okay, let's go again, from the start," he clapped his hands together, "let's see if we can sweat another ten pounds off you all!" Mark called for the music and off they went again.

And again!

By lunchtime no one was wearing more clothing than they had to. The wet tops had been unbearable, so everyone was stripped to the waist.

Tony registered the pat on his ass. On the night it would be a slap.

In fact, Winston, who towered over Tony, had ominously told him, "You're gonna get it so good!" Before reverting to his normal self, "Only kidding sweetie, I'll take care of that cute little tush."

Tony smiled inwardly as he fell back into waiting arms. Winston made him laugh; if flirting was an Olympic sport, he would sweep the board.

Right now he had hands on his butt, his thighs. Legs, back, stomach, neck. At this point it was like being in an erotic car wash.

He felt Dylan's hand touch his chest, and imaged the mimed journey down his body, thrusting his hips forward at the appropriate moment.

Then he felt a surge of irritation.

The squeeze of his butt, and the lips trailing down his chest he could cope with, they were part of the routine.

Ty's tongue flicking over his nipple was not.

'Bastard!' he thought as he felt himself twitch in response.

Tony managed to free himself, and casting a quick dirty look at Ty, made a bid to escape.

He was quickly caught and that was pretty much game over for his character.

Everyone stood, dripping, and breathing hard as the music died away and Mark stood, scribbling in a notebook.

Then he looked up and smiled, "You are all amazing, it's looking great. Thank you, so much, now don't you people have jobs to get to?"

With happy yelling there was a mad dash for the showers. Most people did have matinees that afternoon. The few that didn't hung back to let those on a time limit go first.

-X

Less than twenty minutes later, as Tony walked out, he saw Ty ahead of him.

Irritated all over again, he grabbed Ty's arm and swung him into what turned out to be a closet sized storage space.

He slammed on the light and flinched slightly as what appeared to be a Hyena head loomed out of the darkness.

He turned and looked at Ty who was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, grinning at him.

"You need to cut that shit out," Tony demanded in a low voice.

"What?" Ty asked, trying to look innocent.

"You know what."

"I'm just teasing you, lighten up," Ty suggested.

"I'm not a fucking sex toy," Tony protested, but he could feel a tickle in his throat.

Ty just grinned and let his gaze wander down Tony's body.

Tony gave up and laughed, "Ty, I can't dance with a raging hardon!"

"So don't get a hardon."

Tony threw up his hands and made an exasperated sound.

Taking his eyes from Ty proved to be a mistake as in a sudden predatory move, Ty spun him around and against the wall.

Tony tried to protest, but Ty's tongue invaded his mouth and laid siege, even as his hand slipped into Tony's shorts and gripped him.

"Oh, Fuck!" Tony muttered into Ty's mouth as his cock got a good hard squeeze.

Then his noises were muffled as Ty started to stroke him, fast and rough.

"I'm gonna be late for work," Tony managed when Ty's mouth moved to his neck.

"Yea, me too!" Ty bit gently, "You want me to stop?"

In answer, Tony gripped Ty's hair in both hands and reclaimed his mouth, thrusting fast into Ty's hot fist.

They kissed frantically, gasping into each other's mouths, until Tony's grip went suddenly weak and he flooded over Ty's hand.

Ty smothered Tony's cry with his mouth and then slowly gentled the kisses, from hot to sweet. Calming and soothing him.

Finally, their lips unlocked.

"Okay? Are you steady?" Ty asked.

Tony swallowed and cleared his throat, bracing against the wall, "Yea, I'm good."

He stood panting and watched Ty reach into his bag and pull out his sweat soaked shirt, using it to wipe his hand.

Wincing, Tony pulled his waistband out a little, "Oh, great!"

He looked up into Ty's smug smirk.

"I thought your curtain went up at two," Tony pointed out, and took pleasure in Ty's eyes opening wide and his panicked, "Oh shit, see ya," as he grabbed his bag and fled.

Tony let out a shaky breath and then reached for his own bag, before slipping out into the corridor and heading for work.

-X

Tony crept quietly into his bedroom so as not to wake his boyfriend.

He had been to a final costume fitting and had realized that in agreeing to be a lead dancer, he had thrown his last scrap of modesty out of the window.

Having the fitting of a quick release thong checked had been a unique experience.

The grandmotherly type who had been assisting had teased him, "Don't you just blush so prettily," and he had felt his 'pretty blush' turn to hydrant red.

Smiling ruefully he eased into the bed and tried to settle.

As arms came around him, and a warm body pressed sleepily close, Tony's thoughts drifted, yet again, to the encounter with Ty.

Ty's hand gripping his cock. Ty's tongue conquering his mouth.

Hidden in a closet having one of the hottest sexual experiences of his life. There's irony for you.

He shifted guiltily and groaned softly into the pillow. Allowing it to play in his mind as he fell into sleep.

-X

Tony let out a breath as the hot water ran over his body. His debut as lead dancer was over, all done, and he wasn't sure if he was glad or sorry.

The earlier show had gone without a hitch. Considering the lack of rehearsal time, and more than slightly manic atmosphere his team's routine had gone perfectly, and the only problem anywhere had been one twisted ankle. Not one of the dancers thankfully.

However, things hadn't gone completely to plan during the late performance.

The even louder late crowd had been thoroughly enjoying their routine.

Watching Tony's uptight, slick, city lawyer being enthusiastically and robustly stripped and corrupted by the gang that he had tried and failed to get put away.

It was great until the final minute, when the young dancer, Gary, who was due to rip away his boxers, had somehow taken the away the thong as well.

The last thing standing behind him and complete exposure.

Gary, who was taking part for the first time, had frozen in shock and horror for a number of seconds, until Ty pinched his butt to get him moving.

Tony decided in a spilt second to brazen it out and did the rest of the routine wearing nothing but a smile. Much to the delight of the crazy audience, and the amusement of his team.

He didn't even want to think about how many phone's had been blinking at him, capturing everything for posterity.

By the end of the routine, a mere forty-five seconds later, at the 'big reveal'. Ty had been laughing so hard that he had slipped on his ass, and dropped the gang member's ball cap, that should have provided Tony with some modesty when the thong was whipped away.

One of the other dancers grabbed the cap and held it in place right at the end, but it was way too late, and the audience were in hysterics.

Lights down, and everyone fled the stage in various directions. A stagehand passed Tony a robe and he wriggled into it thankfully.

"Are you alright?" the question came from another dancer, Chris, who was waiting to do the next routine. He worked at Tony's current show, they usually danced together eight shows a week.

He smiled, as Chris rubbed his arm in sympathy, "I'm fine, thanks."

Then looked round at Chris' "Uh, Oh."

Tony saw one of the producers walking on stage with a handheld mic. He watched as she held up a hand to quiet down the audience.

"Am I in trouble?" Tony whispered to Chris, who just shook his head, wide eyed.

She introduced herself and literally stepped back at the outrageously loud applause, before recovering and giving them a small curtsy.

"Sorry to interrupt the show, but we just wanted to make clear that the routine you just watched was impacted by a costume malfunction, and we sincerely hope that nobody was upset or offended."

The laughter that followed this statement nearly lifted the roof off the building, and the producer grinned back at them.

Some bright spark near the front yelled, loud enough to be picked up by her mic, "Can I get his number?"

Everyone laughed again, and she spoke over them, "Well I can see we needn't have worried. Ya'll enjoy the rest of the show."

Then she left the stage to the audience clapping in time and chanting, "Strip, strip, strip, strip."

She was red faced but laughing by the time she reached the wings, and Tony.

"I'm so sorry," he began, but she grabbed him and moved him further backstage as people rushed by them for the next number.

"What are you doing? You'll get cold, go shower. It's nothing to worry about."

She walked him to the corridor, "Live theater, these things happen, now go before you catch a chill."

A little reassured, and with no choice but to obey, Tony had hit the showers.

He tried to relax as the water washed the sweat away, letting the ribbing of his fellow dancers role over him.

But then, everything went suddenly quiet, and his heart started to thump in his chest.

With a feeling of foreboding, Tony wrapped a towel around his waist and shoved his hair back.

Pushing aside the curtain, he saw their choreographer, Mark, leaning against the wall. He looked pissed.

Tony stepped out, "Sir?"

"It was my fault," Gary started, but was waved down by Mark, who pointed a threatening finger at Tony.

"You broke character," he accused.

Tony opened his mouth to speak but stopped at the huge grin that suddenly spilt Mark's face, "and it was brilliant."

He moved forward and gripped Tony's arms, "Are you okay?"

Tony nodded, his breath coming out in a rush of relief, "Yes. Yes, but I'm so sorry, I just went with my instinct."

Mark gave his arms a quick rub and then looked around at the group.

He pointed at the dancer who had fruitlessly lifted the ball cap at the last minute, "You, perfect, going with humor."

Then at Gary, "And you. Shit happens, don't worry about it."

Then back at Tony, "And your instinct was spot on. Go with the flow and just live it. Those lucky bastards got two routines for the price of one tonight, and everyone was brilliant," he indicated the whole group with the last statement.

Looking back at Tony he held out a hand, "I'll look forward to working with you next year, if you're available."

"Always," Tony managed as they shook hands, "Always available, thanks."

Mark swept out, yelling, "Now clear these showers, other people need to use them."

Tony let out a whoosh of air and covered his face. He was shaking.

He felt strong arms slip around his waist and Wally's voice in his ear.

"Let's go get you some water, you need to hydrate."

-X

Tony let himself be fussed over a little by his group.

After the show a number of people that he worked with, or had in the past, both taking part in other routines tonight, and people who had been watching, came by to check on him.

He was soon steady again.

The after-show party didn't last too long, as everyone was exhausted, and many had to work the following day.

Some people had to drive out of State to reach various tours, and one guy had a 6am flight to Vancouver, and would be back on stage the following evening as the tight-arsed Javert. Quite a change of pace.

Tony called out some final goodbyes, and then left via the stage door. Stopping when he saw the town car.

The back door was open, and lounging inside was Ty, a sexy smirk on his face and two champagne glasses in his hand.

Letting out a huff of laughter, Tony leaned on the car, looking in, "I'm exhausted. All I want is to get home to bed," he laughed as Ty's smile widened, "to SLEEP!"

"Don't be so boring, get in," Ty insisted, and giving in, Tony climbed into the car.

The car moved into the light traffic, and Ty handed him the glasses, turning around, and flourishing a flight sized bottle.

"What the hell is that?"

"Well, it sure as hell isn't Champagne," Ty admitted as he unscrewed the small bottle and poured, filling the glasses to about a third each.

Tony eyed his glass dubiously, "We'll be lucky to get two swallows out of this."

"That's okay," Ty let his eyes drift down, "there's something else I want to be swallowing soon anyway."

Tony groaned and let his head fall back.

"But first a toast," Ty said, and lifting his head Tony saw that he looked more serious now.

"What are we toasting?"

"Our anniversary," Ty moved forward, his gaze intent.

"Six years you have been a part of my life, my work, my home, but most importantly my heart."

He kissed Tony softly, "I love you."

Tony smiled, "One question."

"Okay?" Ty frowned slightly.

"Did you send Wally to check on me tonight, or was that just him?"

Ty grinned now, "I did send him because I knew you would be worried, but also he was already on his way. You know what a mother hen he is."

Tony smiled, raised his glass, and clinked it softly against Ty's, "And I love you. Now stop teasing me and follow through on that promise."

Two minutes later Tony thought to himself that the cheap wine tasted much better on Ty's lips than it did from the glass.

He pressed his lips together, preserving that taste as Ty gently eased him back against the seat.