My name is Pete. I'm a bit of a techie - as you might expect from me writing stories for Web sites - but it isn't just computers, I also do the lighting for our local amateur drama group. And that is how the following encounter came about.
It was actually our kids' show for Christmas. It had a big cast, so some of them I hadn't seen before, including Julie. She was a knock out! Made up for the show she was a hag (she was playing a witch), but when the grease paint came off, she was a real looker. In her early twenties, she had shoulder-length dark hair, deep brown eyes, a slim, but not skinny body, with small, but eager breasts and a bum you just itched to grab! At that stage I didn't know about her legs - in costume she wore some revolting stripy knitted tights, and out of costume she wore jeans. Neither outfit gave an audience the chance to appreciate her lovely legs. I only saw them later.
As I said, I hadn't seen her before. It was Cath that I knew, and who I sometimes gave a lift home after shows. Her husband was also involved with back-stage work. She was fun and he was a great guy and we'd visited each other a number of times: had meals out and in, or just met up for a drink and a chat. But this story isn't about Cath, or Bill. It just happened that Cath did know Julie. So it was quite natural for Cath to ask if I could drop Julie off as well when I was giving Cath her lift.
The first stage came because I'm a bit of a piss-artist. I'm not ugly, but I find it definitely helps to give women something to laugh at, so I do the gallantry bit. You know, kissing hands, opening the car door and bowing low. All that sort of stuff. It gives them - and me - a bit of a giggle, and, believe me, getting women laughing does no harm at all. Especially if it's about something flirtatious! It doesn't actually turn them on immediately, but they do seem to drop their automatic defences. You've got started before they remember to put those up.
So, you can imagine the scene: after each performance I took Cath home, and dropped Julie off on the way. I did my thing, with the deep bows and so on and Julie vanished into her home with a smile on her face.
Anyway, the week passed and we got to the last night. I don't know if you have had anything to do with show biz, but whether you are talking amateurs or pros, it is traditional to have a party on the last night. This show was no exception. After the curtain comes down on the final bows, the actors (don't call them actresses these days) gather up their makeup, return their costumes to the wardrobe mistress and so on, while the techies dismantle their kit, stage hands strike the set and store it until the next show, and so on, and then it's down to the bar.
For the next hour, the audience - at least those who know people in the show - tell the actors how wonderful they've been, and then they go home. The folk in the company have all had a drink or two by that time, so everyone is getting relaxed, and then the party gets going. We usually have something to eat and plenty to drink, but there are often silly games as well.
I don't know if you've ever played it, but there is this game where everyone sits round in a ring. You start with a tall cardboard box and everyone in turn has to pick it up with their teeth. If you can't bend far enough to pick it up, you drop out. You aren't allowed to use your hands at all: not to pick up the box, or to keep your balance. Only feet are allowed to touch the floor. After everyone has had a go, the top of the box is cut off (so you have to bend farther) and you go round again. If there are people flexible enough, you eventually end up with the box cut down to just its base - a flat piece of card on the floor.
If you think about it - or you've played the game yourself, you'll realise that the game works on two levels (well, three if you count the obvious one of simply winning). On one level, it's a laugh watching people try to bend further than they'd normally think possible; and often fall on their fannies. On the other level, modesty just ain't where it's at; and you get a lovely view of the bodies playing the game - and the ones who last longest are the most supple and desirable.
So there we were playing this game. I'm pretty supple, so I was doing all right, and so was Julie. It was nice to be keeping in the game, but it was even better watching her bend over, legs wide apart, that gorgeous bum in the air and the panty line showing clearly through her jeans, which were stretched skin-tight as she leant over to get the box.
And her sister was just as scrumptious.
Didn't I mention Fran? No, come to think of it (or should that be cum to think of it?) I didn't. What I should have told you was that Julie's sister Fran had come over to see the show. Family solidarity and all that. Like most sisters, there was a lot of teasing, but you could tell that these two had a really good relationship. The teasing was all in good part and each one was giving as good as she got.
But back to the story: Fran was a few years younger than Julie, still at university, and, if possible, she was even more luscious. The same brown eyes and dark hair colour, but Fran's came way down her back. Gorgeous, rippling, deep brown hair that reached almost to her waist. Fran was slightly shorter than Julie, but only by an inch or so. Her waist was just as slender, but her figure was more voluptuous. I'd guess she must have taken a bra at least two sizes larger and her hips and backside were also rounder and more generous. As I said, watching those two bend and stretch for that cardboard box was something to give you dreams for a month (if you have a short memory!)
I was watching with mixed feelings though. Bill had also come to see Cath's last night - and since he'd brought the car, I expected that they'd take Julie and Fran home. Sure I was getting an eye-full during the game, but I thought that was the last time I'd see these two incredible dishes.
It didn't turn out that way though. Just after this game, Cath came across and spoke to the sisters, then asked me if I would take Julie (and Fran, of course) home. Cath and Bill were going on to some other do, so wanted to leave, but Julie and Fran were just getting into things.
Now put yourself in my position. Would you have said, "No, I want to go home right now" or would you say, "Sure, I'd love to give them a lift!"... So did I! Well, any red-blooded man would have. Come to that, from what I've seen of the gay scene, so would any red-blooded womyn!
Well, that game was over, but we stayed in more or less the same places, with me next to Julie and Fran. I don't suppose you'd believe me if I said that this was coincidence, so I won't bother. I'll admit that it was entirely deliberate that I'd sat next to juicy Julie the delectable dish.
Anyway, we spent a while just talking. That was when I discovered that Fran was still at Sunderland University, that she was actually Julie's sister, not just a friend, and so on. We spent the rest of the party as a threesome: joining in the games; talking; and drinking, though I didn't have that much since I was driving - just enough to get a gentle buzz.
Perhaps an hour or so later, things started to wind down and Fran said she was ready to go. Julie agreed and asked me if I was ready. Well, I was ready in more ways than one, but I didn't expect the second way to be more than wishful thinking.
Anyway, we went out to the car and I drove them home. Fran was saying something about being ready for a coffee and when we arrived Julie asked me if I'd like to come in for one too. Now if you think I'd say no, with all due respect, you're a moron. The show was over, so goodness only knows how long it would be before I saw Julie again, let alone Fran. The party was over too, so unless I said yes to the coffee, all I had to look forward to was solitary pleasures... and I didn't really want a sprained wrist! Yup, I wanted coffee.
