Little Theater Of Sin Ch 01

My Theater teacher never told me there would be days like this.

I grew up in a mid-sized city in the Southwest US and though I loved the Theater, I had no desire to go through all the bullshit to be a big time professional actor over in Hollywierd. Luckily, I was able to to carve out a niche for myself in my hometown and make a decent living by my incredible ability to show up and not suck. Smaller cities don't have a big pool of talent to begin with, and if you show up on time, get the job done, and smile a lot you'll get work. You'd think more people would realize that. And if you are in enough improv troupes, work at a theme park and do children's theater during the day, you can actually be a working actor even if you do live in San Whogivesafuck.

Now, the world of Theater is a lusty one. We actor types live on the edge. We lead with our feelings. We are also willing to commit to huge mistakes if it makes a good story. Some people might say we will fuck anything that lets us. That seems mean. But.... Seems? Nay, we know not seems. We will. But despite my properly Theatrical lascivious life, the most orgiastic group of genuine sexual deviants and perverts were at the seemingly innocent Morgan Morgan's Backyard Neighborhood Theater.

And that's not a misspelling. As a young actor, Byron Cockingtard changed his name to Morgan VanDeevan. When he got a regular job playing Captain Morgan for the Captain Morgan liquor company on cruise ships and fraternity parties, he milked it for all it was worth, and in this effort to accept and lean into his artistic fate, he renamed himself Morgan Morgan, and retired to open the Morgan Morgan Neighborhood Theater, which did Neil Simon at night and children's theater in the mornings. I got paid a pittance to do the kid's shows, and would help out at night occasionally. And somehow, even after working there for a year, I knew nothing about the bizarre sexually depraved world Morgan Morgan had created in his Little Theater of Sin.

I got my first glimpse of what was going on behind the scenes when I arrived early for a casting call. The front door was usually locked, but by happenstance it had been left ajar, so I strolled in to the darkened storefront theater. Down the hallway I heard some faint sounds of movement and a muffled voice. My heart started beating faster, as I realized it might be criminals robbing the place. Then my brain kicked in and told my dramatic actor imagination to calm the fuck down; who breaks into a store front community theater? Just then, I heard what could have only been a sex noise.

Do you know what I mean by that? A sex noise? A certain sound that could ONLY be produced by the physical act of lovemaking. Somewhere between a gush and a squish. I bet you do, ya nasty bastards!

So, being a pervy voyeur, I crept down the hall towards the increasingly loud sounds of something sliding in and out of something wet like a horny moth to a bright Flame of Fuck. Morgan Morgan's office door was open, and his office was lit and occupied. I was now able to hear the sounds a lot clearer.

"mmmf...mmmmff, oh lord have mercy! I just need that cock in my mouth so much...ngggfffmmmm."

"Yes, I know, I know...that's it....yessss."

What. The. Fuck?

That first voice was Helen Gregory, the theater secretary. And that second voice was Morgan Morgan himself. Helen was 49, frumpy and dressed prim and proper every day of her life. Her glasses were as big as her head, and she was the last person in the world I'd expect to hear talking as if she had a huge cock in her mouth.

"Now lick it, lick it harder. Harder." That was Morgan, and he had this tone in his voice that was weird, it wasn't commanding, bossy or dominating; it was flat and self-assured, almost to the point of sounding bored. He was simply telling her what to do, not ordering, and she was doing it.

"Yes Mr. Morgan. Like this?"

"That'll do, yes."

I had to get a peek. I crept around and found an angle that put me in the shadows, but allowed me to see into the room. Helen was in a chair, with her blouse off and her bra pulled down to expose her pillowy breasts. I blinked in surprise at the luscious quality of her 42D's, a sight I would never have expected after only seeing her in sweaters and boring blouses while seated behind her tiny desk. My eyes then panned up to the the source of the slurping, and that was Helen's wide mouth sliding up and down Morgan's thick cock. He was standing in front of her completely dressed except for his penis sticking out of his slacks. Helen was still wearing her huge glasses, and with her bottle-dyed-red permed hair style she could not have looked less like a porn star, despite her porn style treatment of Morgan's dick.

No kidding y'all, this plain-jane part-time housewife slash secretary had a tongue like an anteater! I saw why Morgan was telling her to lick it, as she had a preternaturally long tongue that needed to be seen and then honored and worshipped! The first time I saw it slide all the way out of her mouth and wrap his shaft like a fucking snake crawling up a tree I almost gasped. She could easily push five inches of her tongue outside her mouth, and there was a width to support it. It looked fake, like a prosthetic. But the more she wrapped and bathed Morgan's cock with her tongue the more I knew how real that fucker was!

"Play with your tits." Morgan told Helen, and she began to fondle her breasts, squeezing and caressing them with her Lee Press-on-Nail-encrusted fingers. Her hands thus engaged, she only had her mouth to swallow Morgan's cock, and she did! Her head began to bob up and down like a slow piston, she even turned her head a little as she did, putting a twist on his cock that must have felt...

"Oh, that feels good." Morgan said aloud, finishing my thought.

There was a popping sound as Morgan's cock left Helen's mouth. "Can you fuck me today, please?"

"No. Maybe tomorrow."

"But it's been more than two days for me. It's not fair." During all this, Helen never stopped squeezing her tits.

"Helen, I have to fuck Barbara and the twins today. All you get is my cock in your mouth."

"It doesn't work like that. You know it. Please, I can't concentrate. And I have to get all those reservations done."

"Are you blackmailing me?" Morgan asked, a laugh just behind his words.

"It's not fair. You did this to us! You need to take responsibility!" She sounded like she was scolding a student for not taking care of the class pet.

"Fine. I'll fuck you, but no cumming. Well, like you said. I made my bed and now I just have to fuck in it. Hahaha."

"You bastard." Helen said softly. "Please, please fuck me."

"Bend over the desk and flip your dress up." Morgan said, like her was telling a delivery man where to put the groceries.

I could only see part of her body as she almost sprang out of the chair and threw herself over Morgan's wide desk. She grabbed her dress and pulled it all the way up and then pulled her panties down to her ankles. She was babbling incoherently with lust.

"Please please please fuck me fuck please...." her naked white ass was waving in the air.

"Yes, yes, here you go." Said Morgan as he stepped behind her and slide his dick into her pussy.

"OH. OH. OH. Ahhhhhhhhh" Helen took three deep strokes of Morgan's dick with a shout, and she came with a long low moan. Her orgasm entered her blood stream like a serum for a disease, her whole body seemed to relax, every muscle unclenched and loosened up as Morgan started to pound her pussy hard, making the the desk rattle and shake.

"Is that the cock you need Mrs. Gregory?"

"Yessss....you know it is, you know it is, you bastard..." She sounded like she was high on weed, or painkillers. Morgan kept fucking her from behind, grabbing her meaty ass and slapping it now and then, making Helen cry out, but never in protest. Finally he gave her five or six hard deep thrusts, making Helen squirm and shake in what must of been her third orgasm, and then he pulled out of her.

"That's all I can give you, Come over her and clean me up."

Helen slid off the desk slowly, like a rag doll and slumped into the chair. Morgan took her nipples in his fingers, and pinched them while pulling upwards. Helen hissed out loud and sat up stiffly.

"I said clean my cock, Mrs. Gregory."

Helen's tongue emerged from her mouth and licked every inch of that man's cock clean, and clean again. Up and down she ran that Mouth Snake, and Morgan was gritting his teeth and struggling not to cum as she turned his dick into a barber pole. Finally he shook his head, like he was coming out of a dream and stepped back.

"That's enough. Phew. Okay. Allright now. Get dressed, and uh, finish those reservations, I guess."

"Fine." Was all Helen said in return.

Luckily, I snapped back to reality just in time to slink out through the dark hallway and out the front door without getting noticed.

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

This was not just some tawdry office romance. And he said he was going to fuck Barbara and the Twins? Barbara Shleeger was the 62 year old volunteer who helped out in the mornings and the twins had to be Terry and Mary Bennington, two 19-year-old formerly home-schooled twins who were interning for a theater degree they were pursuing at the Community college. And what was that 'you did this to us' business Helen said to him?

I had to find out what was going on!

Well, first I had to go home and jerk off because I was so damned turned on!

Then two days later, all that was going on began to make itself evident when Morgan Morgan was found dead in his bungalow apartment.

Sadly, he wasn't murdered. That would have been pretty cool. But they did discover he had been taking a strange herbal supplement that had triggered an unknown heart condition. As the police questioned all of us about Morgan's death, I got to witness all the employees of the Morgan Morgan Community Theater acting very cagey concerning the herbal supplement that killed Morgan, and I could swear I had seen bottles of the same stuff around the theater. I also realized for the first time that all of Morgan Morgan's employees and volunteers were women. It didn't seem weird at first, as the art scene in San Whogivesafuck were dominated by women, girls and ladies. But now that I knew Morgan was porking the backstage crew, the story was getting interesting.

I had to find out what was in that herbal supplement.

So I did. I was able to swipe a bunch and sneak it down to my friend on the South Side, Dr. Rosa Benivides, who runs a Botanica. She retired from a local chemical lab and now sells herbal supplements and remedies for health food nuts, Wiccans and the local indigenous cultures. God, I hate that term. She does too. What does she call them, you ask? Mom and Dad.

A day after I dropped off the stuff, she called me and asked me to come to her store. When I arrived, she shuttered the front door, put up the CLOSED sign and guided me to the back room. This was her personal lab, which was about the size of a two car garage. It was wall to wall with Mason jars of herbs and plants, and plastic beakers of chemicals and processed compounds. There were Mexican stone mortar and pestles sitting right next to electric centrifuges and digital scales. On one work table were the remains of the herbal supplement I had brought in. Rosa started right in.

"Okay, so this shit here, you got it from that Morgan Morgan person?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, so Mr. Morgan Morgan's a pendejo pendejo. He used to sneak around all the herbal stores and botanicas in town asking about stuff like this, and no one would sell it or even cop out to knowing about it. Do you know what this is?"

"Oh, I totally do. I'm just testing you because this is secretly an episode of Columbo and I'm filling up screen time with pointless story development. NO, I don't know, Rosa."

Rose looked at me for a second with her warm brown eyes. "Wow. That's a way too long cultural reference. So, this stuff right here... well you know how there is no such thing as Spanish Fly, like a drug that will make a woman want to have sex with any man?"

"..yyeeesss..."

"Pues, mentiras. We lied. There is. And that's it right there on my workbench. BUT! And this is a very big butt..." She stopped and smiled. "I've always wanted to say that. Pues, there's two things about it."

"Lemme guess, it gives you a heart attack and kills you."

"Pfft. No, the drug produced from the plant plant Cardonia Mistroika here had about, oh, 15% to do with Morgan Morgan's Death death. I like repeating like that that."

"I, I, don't, don't. stop stop it it.", I kidded back. "So, what's the rub, Doctor?"

She looked at me hard and smiled. "You sure you can handle this kind of power, amigo? I mean, there's a reason we don't talk about this kind of medicine, this kind of... well, shit, this kind of Magic. I mean, the last thing most people need in their lives is more screwing around. But if people have already taken this...have they?"

"I can't say for sure, but I have seen jars that look the same around the theater... and I have seen some things...."

Dr Rosa's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Do tell."

I told her what I saw in Morgan's office.

"Phew. Yep, that sounds like what happens, 'cept a lot more intense. I haven't personal experience with it, but I trust my sources. Paul, I think Morgan drugged the entire staff of his theater with the Mistroika Spice."

"Wha...but...look, they weren't sleeping with everyone, just Morgan. If that.. what was it called?"

"Mistroika Spice."

"If Mistroika Spice turns you on, then wouldn't they be hot to trot for every guy they saw not just Morgan?"

"Hot to trot? What are you, 60? Jesus, Paul, update your slang. And No. See, that's the thing with Mistroika Spice, the people who are hooked on it are only attracted to other people who are also have it in their system. So Morgan was the only man in a hundred miles who had that stuff in him, and after hooking his Barnful of Backstage Beauties on the Mistroika Spice extract, he would also be the only guy in a thousand miles who could possibly satisfy their physical need to have sex."

"Even David Hasselhoff?"

"Yes Paul, even David Hasselhoff."

"Whoa. That explains a lot. Damn. And what happens if they don't get their...what, fix?"

Dr Rosa took in a serious sigh. "It could be ugly. Usually there's some discomfort...nudge nudge...and then the victim's body chemistry gets back to normal. But this stuff right here, it's concentrated as hell. It's like the difference between coca leaves and cocaine. So withdrawals symptoms could be severe."

"How severe?"

"If they are all young and healthy..."

"They're not."

"Then, yeah, they might die. Or more accurately, they are likely to experience several severe health crisis' directly based from trauma caused by withdrawal symptoms. Accuracy can be vague, though."

We were both quiet for a while. I broke the reverie with a childish yell.

"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me!"

Rosa did not laugh. "No, Paul. I'm not."

"Well, what do I do now?"

Rosa looked at me hard. "So, how's your health, Paul?"

So seven days later I was in the tool room at the Morgan Morgan Theater with Mrs.Barbara Schleeger, the 62 year old head of concessions and outreach. She was sitting on the workbench, and I had unbuttoned and opened her dress to reveal her slender, well kept body. Wow, Morgan sure knew what he was doing when he seduced his MILFs and GILFs! She had a green, lacy, wire-lined open cup bra, that she said Morgan liked her to wear when they met up. The bra did make her C Cup tits look great, but her large nipples were her tits' best feature: thick and brown, dying to be sucked. Her body was almost rigid with anticipation, and she had trouble looking me in the eyes. Then, I placed my cock at the entrance of her pussy, which was wet as hell.

Mrs. Schleeger shook her head vigorously in shame. "Oh God. I'm so damp down there, at may age, it's so embarrasing..."

"Hey, it's not your fault, so shush."

"Oh, stop it, what do you know of iiiiiitt......ooooohhhhhhh..."

My cock was sliding into her as she failed to finish her sentence, and it kept on sliding. I took my sweet time filling her with my dick, loving the look on her face, as she felt not just the pleasure from my cock, but from the fact I had the Mistroika in me.

"Oh thank god, you weren't lying. You were telling the truth. I can feel it already! I was so afraid that you were....oohhhh, no more words, please just make love to me, please please please." She leaned back, relaxing against the wall, the tight bun that her grey hair was tied up didn't budge an inch I began give Mrs Schleeger a solid fuck. Her hands were on my chest and stomach, stoking my skin as I kept up a relentless attack on her pussy.

"May I... may I...may I have release....?" Mrs Schleeger gasped out between moans and cries of pleasure.

I had no idea what she was talking about. "Do you mean, an orgasm?"

She nodded. I slid my cock deep into her, deeper than I had to before and I held it there. She sat up, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide.

"Mrs Schleeger, I'm not Morgan. You can have release anytime you like."

She blinked, and then her hands found their way to my hips. She took a firm hold and then nodded once, and I started to fuck her long and slow, and then faster and faster. Her hands never left my hips, her grasping fingers and ecstatic expression seemed to make my cock even harder.

"oooooooooHHHHHH GOD!!!" Mrs Schleeger bucked her hips once, and then twice and then went limp in my arms, drained and completely sated. I held her there for a bit, my still hard cock still in her pussy.

"I like you better than Morgan." Mrs Schleeger whispered in my ear. "Here, let me show you something..." She leaned back out of my arms, and with her warm hands pulled my hips back and forth, making my cock go in and out of her pussy. Then when I was inside her, she clenched up and her pussy took a hold of my cock like it was fist!

"Whoa!" I yelped. She smiled at the intended compliment and then said with a catlike purr, "Now, Paul, keep fucking me."

As I did, her pussy took a hold of me both loose and tight, and she could go half way loose and tight again during a single stroke of my cock. I had never seen, rather I had never felt, such pussy control in my life. This grey haired half-naked GILF's pussy was stroking my cock like it was velvet fist! It felt so fantastic that I had to focus as hard as I could not to cum right away. I leaned down and took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked hard, slurping and drooling all over her tit. Her hands came up to my head, and grabbed a handful of hair, and then pulled me even closer and tighter into her chest.

"Harder. Harder." Was all she said. Focusing on her sweet tit flesh helped me hold out, but finally I came, and Mrs Schleeger sighed and moaned with even more pleasure as she came once again, matching my huge load of cum that seemed to jet out of my cock, my entire body tingling with pleasure, and every nerve in my brain and skin linked in a web of profound satisfaction.

So, I guess Dr Rosa had told me the truth.

When I confirmed I was healthy, she told me she could concoct a version of the drug that would allow me to be a partner of the all the Mistroika women, but not ruin my health. Also, with the new less potent Mistroika, the women would gradually be able to wean themselves off the drugs, though it would take time. Dr Rosa explained that it was penis to skin contact that created the necessary effect. Moreover, contact with wet tissues ( mouth, vagina, anus) increased the effect as did seminal fluid; which is why all the women were craving not just Morgan's dick, but also his cum. It literally had the cure in it.