The Wicked Stage

"Well," I considered, "Mrs. Fipps the head gardener's wife had told me that Mr. Fipps was too sick to go to you and receive your orders, so I was to do it."

"Fine," mum said, "so imagine that as you make your entrance."

Mum re-draped herself on the sofa and I stood by the drinks cabinet.

"Now," mum said, and I made my entrance.

Imaging that I'd just come from Mrs. Fipps didn't seem to make much difference to my performance but the scene seemed to go well.

When we kissed we both put a lot of vitality into it and I was nearly going out of my mind wanting to fuck mum. She said dreamily, "That was wonderful Gerald...I mean Harvey. Now what happens after the blackout?"

"We leave the stage and go to the dressing room and change for the next act," I said.

Mother's bosom seemed to swell up as she said wrathfully, "Imagination, Harvey, for God's sake, imagination. If we didn't have the blackout what would happen between ladyship and Gerald.

"Oh, I see what you mean," I said, "Well, she would tell him what she wanted done in the garden and he'd..."

"Aaah," mum yelled, "What's the matter with you Harvey, have you been taking brain dead pills again? Gerald is there with a beautiful woman whose lusting for him, and he's as horny as...as hell, and all you can think of is...oh I give up."

"I think it must be my subconscious, it..."

"You haven't been reading those dirty books by Freud again, have you?" Mum said sharply."

Mum had a down on Freud because after I'd read a few of his books I'd tried to psychoanalyze her. She avidly denied that she'd ever fancied her father, but the vehemence of her denial showed that she really had fancied him, and unwisely I told her so.

A sort of paralysis seemed to have crept over her at that point and I took that to mean she agreed with me, and so I went on to explain about the boiling Id and its need to be fully expressed.

We were sitting at the kitchen table at the time and mum suddenly came back to life and hit me with a wooden spoon and said she wouldn't allow those filthy books in the house.

I was only sixteen at the time and tended to be a bit compliant, so in future I had to read the books at the library. Even that reading avenue got cut off because by then mum was working at the library and she found out what I was reading. Mum actually tried to get Freud's books banned from the library but without success.

But back to the situation and the love scene.

I could see what she was getting at and I wanted to explain that Gerald, or me, Harvey, were only a substitute for her father. When she looked at me -- or was it Gerald -- she saw her father; transference I think it's called.

Wisdom prevailed that time and I didn't say what I was thinking.

Mum said, as if talking to a dumb five year old, "Now Harvey, what I want us to do is imagine how things would have gone on between ladyship and Gerald. They are in each other's arms, they have just kissed, what do you suppose they would have done next?"

"Er...they might have kissed again," I replied.

"Yeees," mum said, "and what else?"

"Gerald might have...er...he might have put his hand on one of her breasts, guys usually go for the breasts first up."

"Very good," mum said encouragingly, "so what does ladyship do?"

"She knocks his hand away and says, 'I'm not that kind of girl.'"

"No she doesn't you moron," mum yelled, "she...she...let's do the end of the scene again and try and go on from there.

Mum said her line, "I say it shall be, kiss me Gerald, and make me yours."

We kissed and mum grabbed my hand and placed it on one of her breasts. "Well fondle it," she commanded.

I started the fondling and I have to say it felt terrific. Somehow her breasts managed to be warm and firm yet at the same time yielding.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Ladyship surrenders to Gerald's caresses," mum said in a husky sort of voice, "and she says, 'Oh Gerald, I have never born a child, never had a sweet infant suckling at my breasts, suckle me now my darling.'"

"That's a bit over the top, isn't it," I said.

"Shut up and get on with it," mum said as she opened the front of her peignoir to expose her breasts. "Now say something," she added, "you can't leave me to do all the work."

"I...er...well...er...How lovely are your ladyship's breasts, they remind me of two big Christmas puddings."

"Oh very romantic," mum snarled. "For a start my breasts aren't black and they don't look like...come to think of it you may be right. Now get on with it."

She put her hand under one of her breasts and lifted it a little to extend its ripe pink nipple towards me. I started to lick it and then getting the taste I began to suck it. It was certainly very delicious.

Ladyship started to sigh and moan rapturously, "Oh Gerald...Gerald do you truly love me?"

The improvised dialogue was beginning to sound worse that old Kipp's script, and I was starting to wonder who I was, Harvey or Gerald, but I suppose that's what they call "Getting into the part," so I went along with it.

I released the delectable morsel I had been sucking and said, "I love you truly your ladyship; you are my divinity, my goddess, my Juno, my Venus my..."

Mum or ladyship, or whoever she was interrupted the flow of my eloquence, "Then worship at my sacred place."

She threw off her peignoir and lay back on the sofa, spreading her legs wide to expose her genitals to my gaze. Her slit was long and firmly indented with lips that looked swollen and wet. She placed her fingers on the lips and parted them to reveal the inner sanctum; the holy of holies I suppose you'd call it.

The invitation was obvious and so I knelt before her and bent to kiss this inner sanctum. She smelt like the soap powder section in a super market, and tasted like cider vinegar. Mum often made me drink cider vinegar because she said it was good for me. Certainly mum's taste was good for me, it was much better than Mavis Tuttle's taste and smell.

As I licked and sucked her hallowed hollow I looked up at her and could see her face contorted with ecstasy and she began to cry out,

"Gerald...oh...oh...Harvey...ah...what are you doing to me...you're driving me mad...I'm going to...no...no...I won't, I don't want to...I wont coooo...ohwaaaa...yes...yes...don't stop, don't stop."

Her love juice started to soak the lower part of my face and when I transferred my attention to her clitoris -- which was surprisingly large -- she started to scream and sob.

I waited for her to calm down a bit before I stopped worshipping, and then she said, "Come Gerald, make sacrifice of your seed."

Puzzled I said, "What?"

"Put your sperm in me you stupid boy," she said, sounding a bit irritated.

Mavis often liked to take it in her mouth so I wasn't sure about mum's preference, so I asked, "Where do you want it?"

"In here...in here," she said agitatedly, pointing to her vagina.

I stood up to remove my shorts and underpants and mum or ladyship gasped, "What a mighty phallus you have, Gerald my darling."

That was a bit of an exaggeration because my penis was only just over six inches long when erect and about five and a half inches in circumference. I knew that because Eileen Grasby had measured it. Eileen had said it was a nice all purpose size.

I suppose mum was engaging in a bit of dramatic license when she said it was a mighty phallus.

Guided by mum's hand I entered her tunnel of love. I say "entered," but once I'd got the head of my penis in the rest of it seemed to be sucked in. Once I'd got all my length in her she started a sort of grasping releasing with her vaginal muscle.

"From now on you are mine, and I am yours," mum said. Things were getting a bit mixed up because I briefly wondered why, if mum could do what she was doing to me, why wasn't lordship worshiping her daily.

His lordship was being played by a girl called Ditty Higgs because we were a bit short of men in the Thespians. Ditty was very tall and as flat as a plank and during the course of the play it was revealed that his lordship was really gay, which was why he wasn't worshipping at ladyships altar.

Not sure if it was me or Gerald who was fucking mum or ladyship, I just got on with it. It turned out very satisfactorily on the whole, with me squirting a very commendable quantity of sperm into mum, while she squirmed and screamed, at first telling me to stop, and then telling me not to stop.

When we finished I didn't care whether it was mum or ladyship I'd fucked, all I knew was that it was the best fuck I'd ever had.

Mum said my improvisation was quite good, and that we should reinforce it by having another run through from the top, but only after she's had a shower because she was all sweaty and my cum was running out of her vagina.

I joined her in the shower, but when I tried to pin her against the shower wall for a knee trembler she pushed me away, saying, "We must reserve our emotions for the run through."

The run through went very well, and we went into the improvisation without hesitation.

When we finished we both seemed to come back to our real selves, mum and Harvey, and it must said that she thought that we had inadvertently started something that would be hard to stop, and would I like to share her bed in future.

"Only if I can be Harvey," I said.

"Oh, you'll be Harvey all right," mum replied enthusiastically. And Harvey I was from that time on, except when we rehearsed the play.

* * * * * * * *

The next time we rehearsed Mrs. Carp was delighted, saying, "I think this is going to be one of the most convincing love scenes the Thespians have ever presented."

That annoyed Teddy Bocks who thought that he was the one who played the best lover scenes, and in addition I think he fancied mum and had been as jealous as hell when I got to play opposite her.

During the following rehearsals Mrs. Carp got a bit concerned and she said, "Darlings, do you think you could tone it down a bit because it really is...er...is...rather...er...lubricious, and we don't want people writing to the local paper saying that the Thespians should be censored."

After that mum and I toned it down a bit and reserved the grand passion for our bedtime frolics. Nevertheless, at each performance when mum and I came on for our bow at the end we got a standing ovation.

We only just made it in time because soon after the performances ended mum started to show and a pregnant ladyship would have been a bit embarrassing.

Speaking of pregnancy, about four months after the play ended Mrs. Carp showed definite signs of being great with child, so mum and I must have inspired Rev. Carp despite the fact that mum wore panties and bra.

Mum often comments that if it hadn't been for the wicked stage we might never have become lovers.

You know, there's a lot to be said for the wicked stage!