An Acting Career Begins

My quandary was which category best represents this story -- Mature or Incest.

Alexis Tells Her Story

I grew up in an environment that the School Counsellor regularly told me was a dysfunctional family. I never knew my dad and ... well, my mom wasn't always around. I'd rather not go there, other than to say that drugs played a part in her haphazard lifestyle.

I was raised by my grandparents ... a nice enough couple but they're old. I am out of school at last ... 19 now ... my grandma is 66. She tried to raise me like a mom would, but she's two generations older than me and some of her ideas just don't cut it these days.

My grandpa still works, he's a truck driver ... long distance, hauls stuff from state to state, so for as long as I can remember, he's only ever been at home about every third night. You'd think that would upset my grandma, her husband being away as much as that. But strangely, she has managed to carve out two distinct lifestyles. At home, fussing over her husband whenever he came home every third night, ensuring dinner was on the table, sitting with him to watch TV even though he would be asleep in his recliner by 8pm, and going to bed when he did.

Then, on the two nights in between, she regularly dressed up in her finest and went out socialising. She'd tell me stories of how much she loved dancing from an early age and she would go to local clubs where there was dancing. Most nights she would leave and come home in a cab but sometimes she would be picked up at home by a man. I didn't think much of it when I was young, just assumed that must be the way things are for most couples.

But when I reached my teens and I listened to my friends talking in the schoolyard about their parents and the way things were for them at home ... well, that's when I realised that my wonderful old grandma had been, and probably still was, getting a bit on the side. I don't know if grandpa knew of grandma's lifestyle when he was away, but if he did, I never saw any sign that it bothered him.

Not having a clear father figure during my childhood, I never had a proper discussion about sex at around 11 or 12, not the way most of my girlfriends did. Oh, grandma did try once but she got all flustered. At least, she managed to explain about periods ... and just in time because I got my first one only three weeks after our discussion. I remember thinking at the time that it would have been scary if she hadn't told me what was happening to my body.

But I figure she was too embarrassed to extend her little girl talk beyond that because that would have meant explaining to me about sex and how it happened and I guess that was all a bit too much for her and her embarrassment at talking about such things. Despite her lifestyle implying that she engaged in such practices with men other than her husband.

So the task of educating me in such things fell on my girlfriends at school. They always had a story or two to relate although some seemed a bit far fetched ... maybe some may have embellished their stories to outdo one another.

I learned in Sex Ed classes how the primary purpose of sex was for procreation, as a means for married couples to have kids. Yet, all my girlfriends at school cringed at the thought that their parents, most in their forties, might still be doing it behind closed bedroom doors. Without a mother in my life, I couldn't join in on that debate. But, given grandma's lifestyle, my cringing was the thought of her still having sex at 66.

So with my grandfather seldom at home due to his crazy working week, the closest I ever came to having a father figure in my life was one of my uncles ... the closest one. That is, closest in distance, not in familiarity. Three of my uncles lived a long distance away from my grandparents house, but this one uncle - Uncle Jim - well, he lived just down the end of our street and around the corner. He wasn't a flesh and blood uncle, he was like an uncle-in-law, married to my aunt - the eldest of grandma's kids ... my mom was the youngest.

This uncle was much older than my aunt, she was 45 and he was 56. She divorced her first husband -- I was told he was a violent abusive man. They had three kids together and she married Uncle Jim 15 years ago. On those frequent nights when grandpa was away working and grandma went on her nights out, all dressed up in her finery, she'd have my aunt or uncle come around to babysit me. At first, it was always my aunt, but over the years, my uncle would turn up instead until he was coming over to look after me most of the nights that grandma was out. I'd always felt he was quite creepy although I could never quite put my finger on why he creeped me out.

Since they lived so close, we got to see a lot of them and their three sons ... stepsons to my uncle. Growing up, I got to play with the boys -- my cousins -- a lot ... they were close to my age. A couple were twins who were a few months older than me and the third was barely two years younger. I guess that hanging around with three boys made me a bit of a tomboy.

By the time I was 14, I began to rebel against having a babysitter come over to watch over me. But grandma still insisted my uncle be in the house when she wasn't.

So, you know a little about me now. I need to move on, bring you up to the present day. As I said at the start, I'm 19 now and have left school. I've been working in a local fast food place, but my real desire is to become an actress. All through my teen years, I'd go to the movies at every opportunity. I'd watch the women in each scene and I'd picture myself as that person, that actress playing out a part. I found it so exciting.

A friend told me about an amateur theatre group in town and I enthusiastically joined to pursue my dreams. I'd been attending their acting class sessions twice weekly for a few months, making them fit around my fast food shifts, when it was announced they would be holding auditions for their next play. It would be one of Tennessee Williams' raunchy plays, based in the deep south. As soon as I read the story, I was hellbent on trying out for the part of the sexy young 25-year-old temptress, who pursues an older man, hoping they wouldn't class me as too young for the role. Throughout the story, she teases and taunts, and finally seduces this older man. I found that scenario quite appealing.

I thought my audition went really well and I had hung around that evening to watch the other hopefuls attempt to beat me for the steamy role as Mary-Ann. The cast was announced at next week's class, and to my delight and excitement, I got the part I wanted. I had read the script fully by now, noting that there were quite frequent scenes where I would be expected to hug and kiss, and even lay down on a bed in a close loving embrace with the older man. There was even one scene late in the play where we would be expected to simulate sex and I wondered how the producer aimed to stick to the script yet still present a tasteful production for the audiences.

I looked around the class at the few men we had there, curious as to who would be nominated to fill that role. The producer gave it to a guy called Jeremy ... he's in his late thirties, married with a couple of kids. Quite good looking as it turned out. It was all acting of course, but I immediately began to picture kissing Jeremy in the way that the script called for? Would his wife come to see the play ... what would she think?

We began rehearsals immediately since the opening night was only six weeks away, but for the first week, we simply sat around a long table and read the script ... actually getting on stage and acting out each movement wasn't intended to begin until midway through the second week.

The full cast was six, and on the fifth night of rehearsals, five of us arrived. I looked around anxiously, wondering where my pretend love-to-be Jeremy was. The producer arrived a few minutes late and announced to us all that Jeremy had found he wasn't coping with the heavy schedule of rehearsals and his work commitments, so he had called today to say he was pulling out.

There was a combined moan of disappointment among all the cast members, most of us almost falling over each other to ask, "What will we do now?"

"No problem," said our producer, using his hands to try to calm the collective hysteria gripping the room, "I've found someone, he's not in our group, but he did a quick audition for me a couple of hours ago, and I think he's gonna nail it. He'll be here in about a half-hour, so we'll begin for now, and then I'll introduce you all to him when he gets here."

A half-hour after starting, a buzz comes from those sitting opposite me, who are facing the stage door. Obviously, our producer's new mystery man to fill the role opposite me, has entered the theatre. I'm the last to see him, having my back to the stage door. "Good, here he is now," our producer says loudly, interrupting the read-through mid sentence. "Come on over here and meet everybody, Jim."

I stand and turn in one movement and I guess my jaw drops, my mouth agape. You can imagine my shock to see that Jeremy's replacement as my love interest in the play is going to be my 56-year-old Uncle Jim. Compared to the handsome Jeremy, Uncle Jim is no oil painting ... but worse, he's nearly 20 years older. He could best be described as having rugged features, his nose permanently bent -- he used to be a boxer once -- he has a couple of chipped teeth and he never looks like he's shaved that day ... he always has what looks like a 48 hour stubble on his face and chin. What's more, his hair is prematurely thinning on top.

He has begun shaking hands with the other cast members, but then catches sight of me, "I know this little girlie, she's my niece. Come here honey, give your old Uncle Jim a big kiss."

Now, kissing is something Uncle Jim seems to want to do with me lately. Whenever he comes to grandma's house, he gives her a kiss on her cheek. But with me, especially since I've left school and have been told how I am blossoming into quite an attractive young woman, my figure filling out in all the right places, he'll go for the lips. Most times, I try to turn my head at the last moment and his chapped lips land on my soft cheek, his stubble scratchy.

Obviously now aware of my kiss aversion technique, both his hands shot up to grasp my cheeks on either side and, holding my head steady, he plants a big sloppy kiss fair and square on my lips.

"Welcome to our show," shouts our producer, beaming at his new find.

I can't hold back, turning to the producer, "But he can't act, he's never acted in anything ... and he's too old for the part."

"Oh honey, you can't know your uncle all that well. He's told me all about the varied roles he's played over the years. And actually Alexis, Jim is closer in age to play the character that Tennessee Williams created ... Jeremy was really too young but he was all I had."

My uncle rushes to endorse the producer's enthusiasm, "I guess I've kept my acting prowess a bit of a secret from the family, babe."

I think I'm in shock. I move away from the table, trying to process this strange development in my head. How has my uncle managed to con the producer that he was an accomplished actor with many successes behind him? I may only be 19, but surely, if her son-in-law had acting achievements, my grandma would have boasted about him.

My head is spinning. What about all the kissing scenes? I've been imagining what it would be like to be kissed by the handsome 37-year-old married man, and to lay with him in a bed on stage ... not to mention simulating sex with him. Considering I was in my sexual prime at 19, the prospect of such close intimacy with a competent older man has exhilarated me. Jeremy was 18 years older than me ... I had already begun fantasising about having an older lover - a fully adult man with experience.

Although he never knew it, Jeremy had already fulfilled that fantasy for me each night after rehearsals. Without warning, my fantasy has been shattered. Now I'm expected to substitute my old uncle's craggy face for the handsome Jeremy. For God's sake, Uncle Jim is almost 20 years older than the guy originally picked for the part. Yet I have to accept what the producer said about Jeremy being too young to play that role.

That night in bed, I can think of nothing else as I lay there, picturing the rehearsals moving to the next stage in a few days. Can I bring myself to kiss my uncle in the way the script calls for, in the way I would have if it was still Jeremy ... with passion? This will be the greatest test of my meagre acting skills. But even more challenging, I will need to make drastic adjustments to my nightly dreams that have pleasurably lulled me to sleep every night since the cast was announced.

This past week, each night after rehearsals, I would drift off to sleep, my head filled with visions of Jeremy ... kissing me, laying in bed with me, simulating sex with me. Under the sheet, my fingers would steal down over my naked body to my pussy where my legs would spread wide apart, my juices would flow liberally and I would play with my clit. Most nights I came big time, stifling my moans with the back of my other hand so my grandma couldn't hear me through the thin walls.

On Tuesday evening, the director announced that this had been the last read-through. "From Thursday, we will move to the main stage. Most of the props will be set up, but we won't have our first costume rehearsal for another two weeks, so you can all wear whatever you like."

My uncle suggests driving me home after rehearsals. While I would prefer to catch the bus, keeping all contact with him to a minimum, I know how ridiculous that would look to my grandparents and everyone involved in the play when my uncle lives so close to me. On the way home in the darkened car that Tuesday evening, he asks, "So Alexis, what are you going to wear Thursday night? Will you wear a dress?"

"I don't know Uncle Jim, why does that matter to you?"

"Well babe, I'm only thinking that the script calls for you to wear a dress most of the time in the play, so why not wear one at all the rehearsals ... kind of get a feel for the part."

"But the director said we won't be doing full dress rehearsals for another two weeks yet."

"Yes, I heard him, but I just thought that you should." My uncle pauses for what seems a long minute. In fact, I even wonder if the conversation might be over. Then he adds, "You've got really good legs Alexis, you should show them off more. I would say that your legs are your best feature, long and leading up to your ... err, well you know. But then I shouldn't ignore your great boobs ... you have really filled out nicely. Not to mention your killer arse ... oh, that's to die for. Alexis, you've become a real knockout, babe."

I squirm in the car seat. While it's nice to be complimented, have someone tell you that you look good, the way my 56-year-old uncle describes my physical appearance sounds almost lecherous.

Uncle Jim stops the car outside my grandparent's house and I immediately reach for the door handle. From the corner of my eye, I see his face looming up close to mine. Is he about to plant one of his sloppy kisses again? I manage to get the door open just as his lips land on my cheek. He was obviously aiming for my lips but I manage to turn my head away in time.

I dart out of the car, already thinking of how I won't be able to be as adept at avoiding his kisses when the script requires me to accept them. There was no way I was able to get myself off with my fingers in bed that night. The inspiration of Jeremy was now only a distant memory and, no matter how inventive I'd previously been in imaging Jeremy as my fingers played with my clit, I could not see the phantasm of my uncle as a sex object.

Rehearsals were only on Tuesday and Thursday nights and Saturday afternoons. On Wednesday night, I read the script through again in my bedroom. I cringed at the number of times my character was required to kiss my uncle's character and then there are a couple of times when the script states that his hands roam over my body while I am wearing only a slip and a pair of panties ... not even a bra. How can I let my uncle do that? I already assume that he will enjoy feeling me up at every performance. I even consider dropping out, as Jeremy had ... but my mindset has always been on a career in acting and this is my first big break.

As creepy as I've always believed Uncle Jim to be, at least he has never touched me inappropriately, never attempted even to kiss me until the past twelve months. It's like my eighteenth birthday brought about a change in his behaviour around me and he began to pay a lot more attention to me. Whenever he comes over to the house now, he tries to kiss me and his hands will touch me, even lingering at some spots where he touches. Not overtly sexual, but running a hand along my arm or on my back, and just occasionally daring to touch my bum.

My primary sexual education came from listening to the stories of my girlfriends at school. I didn't have a steady boyfriend until I had left school and was working at the fast food place. The supervisor on most of my shifts was Josh, a good looking guy, five years older than me at 23.

We began to date and, while we didn't rush into it, after about two months, I calmly considered my options and made the decision that Josh should be my first, and that's how our relationship evolved, progressing quite smoothly to full-on sex.

I guess I chose to trust Josh with the task of relieving me of my virginity because of his age and maturity. The boys my age didn't cut it, always fooling around ... never taking things seriously. Although Josh was only five years older, maybe my steady relationship with my supervisor was where this fantasy of being with older guys first materialised ... emerging later in my masturbatory dreams of doing it with the married guy from the acting class, Jeremy.

Anyway, while Josh was handy in introducing me to

going all the way

, our relationship didn't last all that long and I haven't found any other guy since appealing enough to want to give my body to. So, with regret, I must admit as I embark on playing Mary-Ann in this hot and steamy play, I have not had a man's dick inside me in ten months and, having been initiated by Josh into what I thought was good hot sex, I do miss it.

However, I am dreading Thursday night's rehearsal, unsure if I could go through with kissing my uncle in the way the script calls for. I came straight from work, wearing the fast food establishment's uniform of dark blue slacks and a blue and white striped top. I could see the look of disappointment on my uncle's face that I was not wearing a dress -- as he requested -- when I walked in.

The director warns us it could be a late night because he wants to run through the whole play from start to finish and there will obviously be many stoppages as he directs us where to stand in our first, full rehearsal. Having worked all day, I am really tired as I slump in a chair in the wings, waiting to make my first appearance on stage.

My first scene has a lot of dialogue, and fortunately the character that my uncle plays, hasn't yet come across Mary Ann. The director seems happy that I know all my lines and I deliver them almost fluff-free after some of the others stumbled and bumbled along. I retire to my comfortable chair only to find my uncle sitting there. It is an odd sized chair, too wide for one, but cramped for two. Uncle Jim suggests I squeeze in.

"How are you feeling Alexis? Excited at actually rehearsing our scenes together? I can tell you I am."

'I bet he is,'

I thought.