Acting 101 Ch. 07-08: Double-Header

I've published these two chapters together as a double-header. Enjoy.

Please remember, as with all my stories, should you be looking for 'Realism', just move on. I aim for 'Ridiculously Plausible'.

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After two months of Tony and Kimmie begging us to join their improv team, Steff and I had finally relented, and Friday was to be our first time giving it a try. The whole evening's competition ended up being kind of anti-climactic though, to be honest. Steff and I did not embarrass ourselves, nor did we particularly shine. We got some laughs. We had some fun. I got chance to see up close how good Tony and Kimmie had become. The show was done.

The biggest problem was that afterwards, instead of my heading off with Steff to make the beast with two backs, the two of us were kind of obligated to hang out and celebrate our debut with Tony and Kimmie. Turns out that, while Steff and I were underwhelmed by our performances, Tony, and especially Kimmie, were totally stoked. The four of us had not won that night's competition, but we had come in second.

We left the theater and hit a nearby sports bar. Upon claiming a table, we made Tony go buy the beers, because whiny beggars get to pay for the booze. Kimmie immediately grabbed both of us and practically shrieked, "You guys rocked it! We four are going to rule this winter."

"Half our jokes went over like lead balloons," grumped Steff, echoing my own sentiments.

"Duh," Kimmie waved Steff off dismissively. "It's improv. Half the jokes never land. It's about how well the other half land. Y'all did make half the bits you tried work, and that is without the four of us practicing together at all. Once we do..." Just because improv is genuinely made up right on the spot, that doesn't mean that good teams don't practice a whole tool kit of characters and stock bits that can be plugged in make sure that all members of the troop are used to where things are likely to go. Steff and I had been a little glum when we realized that we had not only signed up for twice monthly performances, but also for weekly 'workouts'. We should have known. We had known, really. But it gave us both an excuse to bitch, so we were going to take full advantage. It would mean more beers on Tony's tab....

Tony returned with the first of said beers. A short while later, he returned with more beers. And so the evening went on. At one point, when the ladies went to the restroom together, as ladies do, Tony leaned over to me, poked me in the side, and said, "Look, dude. I know you keep saying that you and Steff are not a couple, but that is seriously low-hanging fruit." I just smiled quietly but quellingly at him. If he only knew. But Tony was on a roll, and would not shut up. "I can't understand how you aren't seeing how she looks at you all the time. She is hungry, dude. And come on, during that one bit tonight, she flat-out grabbed your ass and held on, on stage, in front of God and everyone!"

"Was God in the audience?" I asked with mock excitement. "Where was he? I didn't see him!"

Tony just shook his head. "You. Are. Missing. Out."

The only way that I was missing out was that it was getting late, Steff and I were both getting a little tipsy, and Tony and Kimmie seemed in no hurry to call it a night. The longer I was here yakking with Tony, the longer it would be until I could get Steff into bed.

When the girls returned, Tony went off on a new tangent about his improv ideas and projects. I rolled my eyes and leaned back, nursing my beer lest Tony offer to get me another. I shot an impatient and apologetic look at Steff, but she just smiled back.

Before Tony could really get going, Kimmie leaned over next to him in the booth and snuggled up. She butted in on his enthusiastic monologue with an idea or two of her own. Now, Tony is a fun guy, but he is usually unstoppable during one of his good-natured rants, even by his girlfriend. But suddenly, he just let the matter drop. I shot a look at Steff and she looked back at Kimmie.

Upon examination, I could not see Kimmie's hands under the table, but I developed a pretty good idea of where they were. My suspicions were confirmed when Tony suddenly said, "Well, I think we ought to go." With that, he rose, tugging Kimmie along behind. She laughed as she quite willingly let herself be pulled along.

"See you guys after Christmas!" she called back as they bolted.

"Did she...?" I wondered.

"Oh yeah," laughed Steff. "We planned it all out in the bathroom. I told her that she was never getting to bed and getting laid if she didn't, um, take matters into her own hands."

"Ah," I sighed, "my devious wench!" We clinked bottles and toasted her success.

And I yawned. Hard.

And so did Steff.

"Look," she said, sort of seriously. "Maybe I should just Uber home. We are both beat, and you would have to drive all the way back down this way tonight if you dropped me off."

I didn't like this idea at all. "I could just sleep over," I suggested with a hopeful leer. Honestly, I had expected to sleep over. I had every other date we'd been on.

Steff graced my lips with a deep, delicious, promising kiss. "Not tonight. I have three friends who I haven't told about you showing up at eight am tomorrow so we can drive up to Helen and do some Christmas shopping. If you sleep over, I guarantee that they will find me with your dick still in my mouth, and that might make the day awkward." We both laughed.

It was funny. And she was right. Late as it was, my driving all that way and back tonight would probably not be safe. But I have to admit, I was a little miffed by the way she was putting a shopping trip to faux-Switzerland over boning me. And I was a lot miffed about missing out on the boning....

"Shit," muttered Steff. "I could use some post-show sex, too."

Inspiration flashed.

"Ah well," I yawned, "what can we do?" I stood and took her hand, as if to lead her out toward the front. But as she slid out of the booth, I led her toward the back of the restaurant instead.

"Hey, where are you... and I haven't even called the Uber yet," Steff said, confused. She tried to open her purse with her free hand.

But I had us moving fairly quickly through the now thinning crowd and she couldn't get the phone out. We reached the back hall, and I swiftly checked that no one was waiting back there. Without a word, I opened one of the bathroom doors, led her in, and locked the door behind us.

Each bathroom at that place was what I call a "one-holer", meaning the whole room was meant for one user at a time....

Light dawned on Steff's face. "I am not fucking you in the John!" she declared.

I just put my arms on her waist and chuckled, "Your words say no, but your eyes says, 'make me an offer.'" Steff did look around hesitantly, and I slid my hands from her hips around and down to caress her tight little ass, which I had been staring at or thinking about much of the night.

Through our clothes, Steff could feel my raging hard-on pressing against her belly. She pressed back and said, "Well, your dick sure seems on board."

Unwilling to let her better judgement make a comeback, I bent and kissed her fiercely. I grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling it free of her jeans skirts' waistband with one hand. That let me slide the other up under her shirt and caress a breast that rested in a barely there lace bra. Steff just moaned a little and murmured, "Fuckit."

The room was dimly lit, with faux wood flooring and walls decorated with Falcons, Braves, and Hawks posters. The red and black toilet was on the back wall, and there was an unnecessarily large vanity with a huge mirror. Besides being pretty spacious, the restroom was actually remarkably clean for this time of night. I tried not to think about what that meant. It was a near certainty that someone had done something exceptionally foul in here recently, and the staff had had to come in and do an extra cleaning instead of waiting until closing.

Steff's bra was a front closure number, and I let the hook slip free. I pushed her shirt up above her tits and grabbed them gently but hungrily, burying my face between them. Every square inch of Steff's skin was smooth and tight as a drum over her softly athletic curves and valleys, and nowhere was that truer than on her crazily pert boobs. Their dark, oblong aureole wrinkled slightly, tugged hard by her straining, erect nipples.

My hands cupped her delicious handfuls as my lips devoured them.

Then I chuckled.

"What?" she demanded.

"You don't need a bra you know," I scolded her, not for the first time. "These beauties are God damned supernatural. Next time we perform, if you and Kimmie go all Jennifer Aniston and let your pokies fly, I bet it would be worth at least an extra ten points from that pervy judge--the old one."

"Don't you have eyes?" asked Steff, looking down at me as my finger and thumb tugged and teased on one petite little nipple while I gently bit on the matching nubbin of joy. "Kimmie needs a bra... or three. The way she likes to jump around on stage, those beasts would be flying everywhere."

"Great," I said, around the mouthful of breast that I refused to relinquish, "make that twenty five extra points." I looked up in time to see Steff roll her eyes at my commentary, then roll them backing her head as my tongue and teeth brought a loud, happy sigh to her lips.

Having given in, Steff now seemed more than just a little bit on board for this new adventure. Her hands roughly tugged my jeans open and she made short work of extracting my hungry cock through the fly of its increasingly uncomfortable prison. Keeping my face pressed firmly to her chest, I slid my hands down and under her skirt. She wasn't wearing much in the way of underwear down there, but it was more than I wanted to tolerate. She rocked her hips from side to side to help me get them down off her backside and I tugged them to her ankles. I relinquished my lips' hold on her boobs and kissed her again.

The two of us stood there, in the middle of the large bathroom floor, kissing our brains out, with my cock in Steff's hand, and two of my fingers slowly burying themselves in her pussy.

I probably would have liked to just stay like that and enjoy ourselves for a while under other circumstances, but hey, we were in a public bathroom in a still fully occupied bar....

I pushed Steff backward toward the vanity. I lifted her up easily to sit on its edge, and crouched down. I pushed up the hem of her skirt in front and leaned in to start licking her. She was already wet and slightly open from my finger's recent probing and my tongue slid past her smoothly shaven labia and into her delicious depths. It sent shivers through my own body, and brought a deep, soft moan to her lips. I went to work in earnest, but she pushed my head away from her crotch.

"Don't," she gasped, "Don't try to make me come like that. You know how loud I get."

I wanted to dive back in in spite of her protests, but she was right. Steff was a screamer, and if I really sent her over the edge, we would have management banging on the door in no time.

I was little confused on how to proceed.

"Of for Christ's sake!" gasped Steff, tugging me upright. "Just fuck me already. That way you can kiss me hard and I can scream as much as I want to, just into your mouth."

Let's see. Hottest girl at my college wants me to stick my cock in her twat and my tongue in her mouth so that when she comes violently, my lips can muffle her screams... Yeah, I could get behind that plan of action. As I stood, Steff grabbed my cock and guided it toward her pussy. She placed the head against her slit and I leaned forward, sliding my way in to fill her depths.

We both gasped at the electric naughtiness of the whole exercise. Well, that and at the sheer amazing feeling of Tab A fitting so perfectly into Slot B.

I grasped a delectable, resilient breast in my hand, massaging it gently but urgently. My other hand grabbed the back of her head so I could crush our faces together, my tongue exploring her lips, ready to plug her mouth at a moment's notice.

I shuddered as I began to drive myself in and out of Steff's pussy in long, hard, urgent strokes. She grabbed my ass and pulled me deeper into her with each thrust. Neither of us sought to prolong the experience. We both were taken by a simple, happy urge to couple with each other, seeking the fiery, swift, fulfilling high of orgasm. I slammed into her and she egged me on. "Yes," she gasped, a little louder than was probably wise. "Just fuck me!" I released her tit and my fingertips instead sought out her clitoris, stroking it swiftly in time with my dick's rhythm.

Steff squirmed atop the vanity and I felt her body coil in preparation of the coming release. I jacked into her faster and faster, and clamped my mouth over hers. Her back straightened suddenly, and I felt her whole body shudder. She did indeed scream, but my mouth held firm over hers when it began and the noise was manageable. But between her silken tightness around my cock and the always amazing feeling of making this incredible hardbody lose control, I came too. I lost all rhythm to my thrusts and groaned mightily as I unleashed a torrent of jizz inside her. My insides roiled with waves of explosive ecstasy as I felt myself drain violently inside her depths.

But she was not done coming yet, and I lost my lips' hold on her mouth. Instead, as I groaned loudly myself, Steff's shriek burst forth. I clapped my lips back over hers almost immediately... but it had been loud. Really loud. And so fucking sexy I'd have come again if I'd had anything left.

We both swiftly regained control over ourselves, except for our laughter, which had pretty high volume all by itself.

I stumbled back a step, slipping free of her silken confines. We stared at each other and laughed again, more quietly this time.

"That was fucking intense," I said in wonder.

"That was intense fucking," Steff chuckled in reply. She hopped to her feet and began returning her clothes to some semblance of order. I barely had anything out of place beyond my dick hanging out, so I was ready well before her.

"It's pretty quiet out there," I said softly. "Let's make a break for it before you call the Uber."

Steff nodded, pulling her shirt down into place. I softly unlocked the door and we slipped stealthily out.

Only to be met with applause from about eight people standing in the hall outside the restrooms.

For my part, I blushed fire engine red. Steff was a fucking champ and just ostentatiously licked her fingers, threw back her shoulders, and strode off toward the bar, head held high, looking utterly unconcerned (but totally amazing). I slunk after her, keeping my own head low, my embarrassment warring with titanic smugness. One guy in the hall did tear his eyes off Steff's receding, incredible ass, leaned over to me and murmured, "Jesus. Well fucking done, dude."

I waited with Steff until her Uber showed up, and since it was a Friday night, that took a while. It was still warm out, so we stood companionably together outside while the icon of Marcel's Red Prius crawled toward us on Steff's phone.

When we first got out there, we traded a quick but fierce kiss of thanks for what we had just shared, but we swiftly transitioned back from passion to the simple comity of buddies.

"So, you are with your parents over Christmas break," recapped Steff. "When are you back?"

"I doubt I'll be back until late the night before classes start again," I replied. "Maybe the day before. My dad's mother is coming up from Fort Lauderdale to visit after New Year's, so I want to stick around and see her for at least a couple of days."

Steff and I had already exchanged our gifts earlier that evening, before the show. I had gotten her a cool set of sunglasses, which she had loved, and she had bought me Aaron Sorkin's Masterclass on screenwriting. I planned to absorb a lot of it over the break during downtimes.

"I'll be sure to text you at the most inopportune times," Steff told me as her ride was arriving.

"And I'll text you whenever I come up with a joke that will annoy you," I replied, nudging her in the side with my elbow. We traded good-natured shoves, but then her driver pulled up. A quick kiss later, and Steff was in the back seat, and waving goodbye.

"Merry Christmas!" she called from the open window.

I yawned had as she went out of sight and I reflected that it really was a good thing I had not tried to drive her home. I may not have been terribly tipsy, but an emotionally draining first performance, a couple of beers, and some awesome sex with an embarrassing denouement had me happily wrung out.

I headed home, eager to hit the hay. After all, I needed my sleep.

Tomorrow, Meredith and I were going dancing again....

I reflected that I was a long way from getting used to shaving around my junk. Had I not been so forcefully convinced of the benefits of the procedure, I'd have let it slide. But I had been convinced, so...

I somehow accomplished the task without castrating myself. Aside from that little adventure, the only other way my preparations changed from the first evening I went dancing with Meredith was in my shoes. I was not wearing those fancy-ass new shoes again. I had no intention of having sore feet cut short the evening this time. Instead, I spent a good long time polishing my trusty old hoofers. They were perfectly broken in, and I'd danced in them plenty. With enough care, they still looked more than presentable.

When I got to Meredith's house, Steff answered the door. I took my usual pause to corral my brain upon first seeing her. She was wearing a comfortable clubbing outfit of a fairly longish leather skirt, a tight t-shirt, and an unbuttoned vest. "Hey Scott! Meredith is almost ready. Come on in," she chirped merrily. As I stepped through the front door, Steff went on, "I'd hang out until she is ready, but I gotta fly. A couple of buddies and I are driving up to Athens for a holiday party. Gotta go!" And with that, she headed for her car, leaving me standing non-plussed in the middle of their great room.

I have to admit, the way these two women seemed perfectly fine with my dating both of them had me eternally off-balance. Making it worse, I suspected they both knew and enjoyed that fact. But I had to admit that I was finding it increasingly... what? Unsatisfying? No. It was six kinds of satisfying and more. But it was just God damned weird. And I kind of felt that I was partying on the edge of an abyss.

I did a quick inventory of my feelings for Steff. Was I wandering down that path of going from Friends With Benefits, to emotional attachment? We had each promised to tell the other if we were, so this was an internal check I did occasionally.

I wasn't jealous, not of her going to a party without me, nor otherwise. I seriously doubted that she'd hook up with some hot dude while there, but more to the point, I found I wouldn't begrudge her if she did. Of course, I had no standing to be jealous. After all, I was standing here waiting for a hot date with Meredith, her freaking step-mother. I knew that when jealousy rears its ugly but sometimes meaningful head, it knows no logic. Fortunately, I didn't feel even hypothetically jealous.

I wasn't feeling clingy, either. I did not feel a need to show her off to my parents. Hell, we were still denying to most people that we were dating. And honestly, I felt no hazy romantic need to grow old with Steff. Check, check, and check. All was good. If I did get all crazed and start to fall in love with my best friend, I'd tell her right away, but that was not happening. And I had to be honest, it puzzled me a little. Maybe a lot.

Meredith then came out of her bedroom, and my introspective pall lifted instantly. She was, as always, a complete knockout. Her dress that evening was a dark emerald green cocktail number. It showed a bit less cleavage than her little black dress from two weeks earlier, but while the hem was longer as well, it showed off a lot more leg, due to the high slit over the left thigh. This was a dancer's dress.