Anything Goes - Theatrical Capers

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I needn't have worried unduly over the noise of the door as it was Brian looking for me. "The meeting has broken for lunch so I thought I would pop over and see how you were getting along with everything" said Brian, "Fine" I replied, "I am lucky that such an old theatre is as modern as it is with all of the sound, lighting & stage facilities. It makes it really quick to swap and change things and Stan has made life as easy as possible too". "Ah - that is all due to Genevieve's second husband, the investment banker. He was a major benefactor to a host of projects in the town but particularly felt his wife should have the best possible theatre to perform in so spent a fortune on upgrading the old place to the highest spec available over the few years they were married until his untimely passing."

I agreed that it had been very lucky indeed when Brian asked if I had seen his daughter and I knew instantly that it must be 'Chastity' - "Sorry chap but I have only just come back from grabbing a sandwich myself and I am fairly certain it's only me here." "Oh, only Fleur's car is parked outside". There was simply something about Brian that I didn't like and I had no intention of getting the youngsters into trouble, rather I felt I wanted to buy them some time, so by reflex I lied and reiterated I had just that minute returned and as far as I knew the theatre was empty. "Perhaps she simply dropped the car there and has gone for a spot of shopping, maybe picking up stuff she needs for the show?" This seemed to satisfy him and thankfully he left me alone to get on with my setting up.

Another hour or so and I was done with the last of the heavy work, it just remained to do a technical rehearsal of the actual show to fine tune everything. I headed home looking forward to a quiet evening working through the computer programme and familiarising myself with the show but arrived to find a phone message on my machine from Gen requesting I go to rehearsal for formal introduction to the society - Oh deep joy, just what I could do without.

As I had a few hours in hand I showered and changed then made myself a quick meal which still left me plenty of time to stroll back to theatre for 7pm armed with a small rucksack containing Stan's folder and script as well as my trusty MacBook Pro all loaded up ready to go. It was already packed & bustling, there must have been 40 or 50 people if not more milling around the stage and auditorium; some working on the sets, others trying on costumes and undertaking alterations, small groups going through lines and yet more clustered around a piano singing snippets of songs. As I stood there taking in this scene of apparently organised chaos, from out of nowhere one of the society members abruptly appeared in front of me & started giving me a lecture about there being absolutely no members of the public allowed into rehearsals, how I had no right to be there and stating I was to leave immediately. As I backed away shocked by this I glimpsed Gen out of the corner of my eye gliding toward me about to pounce but a voice cut in returning my focus to the man giving me the bollocking.

Stan had appeared from nowhere and rescued me - in no uncertain words Stan grandly pointed out to the guy that he was in fact addressing the saviour of the production, not just some nosey

parker and without me everyone would be standing around in the dark with no working venue to perform the show. I tried hard not to blush or laugh out loud as I hardly regarded myself as any sort of saviour.

It was a brutally uneven contest of wills and the man turned and walked away utterly deflated leaving Stan chuckling as we headed upstairs to the control booth. "That was Simon, he's playing the role of Sir Evelyn and I think he is starting to believe he really is a lord rather than just a librarian. I figured he could do with bringing down a peg or two".

The control booth was sumptuously appointed - it was painted entirely matt midnight blue (apparently to prevent distracting reflections from the equipment) with the sound & lighting consoles set alongside one another on inclined desks directly in front of a huge sloping double glazed window (again to prevent reflections) and all the patch racks arrayed on the back wall were in cabinets with smoked glass fronts. The operators sat in luxurious executive office chairs keeping in contact with the orchestra pit and backstage areas by means of personal headset intercoms and watching via a bank of closed-circuit feeds on TV monitors fitted flush into the wall above the window. Once the heavy door was closed it was delightfully soundproof with an audio monitor giving us feed as loudly as we desired. The biggest benefit was the fact it had climate control too, currently set to a comfortable couple of degrees below ambient.

From this elevated position we had a panoramic view of the whole theatre and one by one Stan went through the cast list pointing out individuals flitting around & putting names to faces. There were eleven main characters in the book along with a group of four young female dancers - Reno's Angels - and maybe half a dozen bit parts. In addition there was a large male & female chorus taking the roles of ships crew and passengers. Surprisingly there were a few people I actually recognised such as the estate agent who had sold me my house, my new doctor and a girl called Amber who worked in the village bakery which I went to most days although it might not be her since the lass next to her turned around and was her twin!

Stan could see I was struggling to identify many individuals amongst the constantly moving sea of faces and reassured me that it would all fall into place as soon as people were in costume and actually performing. I fervently hoped he was right!

I felt it was time to put into practice what I hoped I had learned from the manuals so under the watchful gaze of Stan I attached my MacBook to the console, brought up the lighting programme ensuring it was set for full working lights and plugged the whole caboodle into the main theatre distribution board with fingers and everything else crossed for luck as I hit the "GO" key. My heart stopped for a fraction of a second when every light in the theatre, except the green emergency signs, went out again before slowly fading back to full power leaving me looking at a sea of silent bemused faces staring up at the control booth. I glanced across at Stan who had a massive Cheshire cat grin on his face "System self test - does it every time on first start up, did I forget to mention it?"

"Yeah, I do believe it may have slipped your mind - you old bugger."

We both laughed and Stan told me to leave the lights on full spread since the rehearsal would just be a rough run through of the show stopping to go over and over bits and pieces to polish off routines or songs, it was the following night, dress rehearsal, that would be the first full run of the show requiring lighting. Randomly Stan said, "You can come down now Jake," and I looked over my shoulder to see a pair of sandalled feet appear on the top of the ladder at the rear of the control room followed by faded jeans, Star Trek T-shirt and mop of blonde hair, all of which belonged to a young lad, "Come on son it wasn't your fault yesterday morning and neither of us are going to yell at you." Jake pulled up a seat between us.

"Sorry Stan," he stammered, "Genevieve asked me to switch on the full stage lights and I couldn't say no to her but it just all went black and Brian went mental screaming at me and I didn't know what to do, and, and, and . . . . ." Stan stopped the poor lad with a comforting hand on his shoulder before he became any more upset and said, "It's fine Jake, you weren't to know that the system test would lock everything out without a laptop attached. Gen shouldn't have pressured you and Brian should know better than to blame you". "It's worse than that though", Jake continued "Brian told me he doesn't want to see me in the theatre ever again - that's why I was hiding up on the spotlight gantry, I sneaked in earlier when no one was looking".

"It's OK, you just leave Brian to me. I am not having him ban half of the finest follow-spot team we have ever had because he is in a bad mood. Go find Poppy and tell her I sent you to help, she will keep you out of Brian's way until I see him".

When Jake had left the booth Stan explained to me that Jake's older half-brother John was also in the society, playing a crewman and dancer in this show, but whereas John was very confident and outgoing, Jake was a lot quieter and reserved. He also told me that the other half of our spotlight team, Katherine, was bound to be in the theatre somewhere and he would introduce us as soon as he could.

We both relaxed back into our seats and a couple of bottles of homebrew magically appeared from out of Stan's bag as he resumed his tales of society intrigue which he had begun that afternoon only now with faces to add to the names.

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It was becoming increasingly apparent that if she wasn't actually wide awake then my partner was very close to it as she was no longer satisfied with having me passively inside her and began to rock her hips to and fro lazily, the glorious sensation of my prick being caressed and massaged by the deliciously soft yet tight grip of her well lubricated slit making me harder than ever. Getting the message I began to participate more actively rocking my own hips in unison to increase the length of each stroke - my fully erect 7.5" plunging from the very tip of its head nestling in her inner lips to my pubes being ground into her taut, dimpled, milky white ass cheeks whilst alternating my free hand between caressing a diamond hard nipple & massaging her stiff little clit. Definitely no longer asleep my partner began to issue soft moans and sighs as she too became more aroused. I'd learned the night before that she wasn't a vocal partner during sex but she more than made up for it with sheer physicality.

We were now locked into a mutual thrusting contest and I switched solely to working on her clit swirling it in small rapid circles beneath the cover of its hood before ferociously strumming its tip against the soaking first fingers of my hand. Only a matter of seconds of this contact was enough to flip her over the edge and as I plunged myself into her to the hilt I hooked my leg over her hip and clamped a breast to pull her into me knowing what was coming.

As her orgasm hit she turned into a frenetic wild rodeo mustang trying to unhorse its rider, bucking and thrashing on the bed as I constantly teased her nipple and nipped at her earlobe whilst holding her tightly to me. Her grip on my cock was tighter than ever, pulsating in waves along with her gyrations, at times crushing to an almost painful level but constantly exquisite.

I had worked my other hand underneath her waist just far enough that I was able to reach around and gently flick the tip of her clit once more - another shuddering climax ensued and although I knew I could keep up this stimulation indefinitely I felt she was spent for the moment and rested my palms on her hot bare skin waiting for the shaking to subside.

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If a fraction of what Stan told me that evening was true, and I had no reason to believe it wasn't, then more than half of the society were having illicit relationships. There were a lot of high libidos running rampant with none higher than that of Genevieve. Stan pointed out 5 men in the auditorium with whom she had been 'friendly' at some time in the past - always between husbands - and another two, brothers, who he was sure were currently keeping her busy but presumably not while they were undertaking their comedy roles of "Luke" & "John", a pair of Chinese missionary converts.

Some of the wives were quite happy to find comfort in each others' company too and the youngsters were, unsurprisingly, a very active bunch indeed. From what I had seen of Fleur and John earlier then I couldn't argue. The thing is not everyone was into all this action but the ones who weren't respected the choices of those who did, it was all so terribly Middle England quintessential reserve and correctness.

I decided to tell Stan what I had observed that morning and he was totally unsurprised by my revelation. He told me that having been involved with the society for 64 years to varying degrees there was absolutely nothing that he had not seen at some point. There was a universal understanding that what happened in the society stayed in the society and it worked for all concerned. He also thanked me for having the decency and speed of thought to not drop the kids into the mire with Brian - never going to be a problem keeping stuff from him I confessed.

My attention was momentarily drawn to the back of the stage and the upper deck of the ship set where three people were busily painting. Jake was there seemingly glued to the side of a small skinny goth girl dressed head to toe in black with long jet black hair and matching makeup, looking remarkably relaxed and happy compared to earlier. Along with them was a tall woman in cut-off denim dungarees over a muppets t-shirt, a red and white polka dot bandana encasing her hair and moving with a fluid graceful ease as her brush transformed black undercoat to three dimensional iridescent bunting that appeared to burst out of the flat boards with each brushstroke.

I realised I had stopped speaking and must have been staring when Stan saw where my attention was focussed and told me the goth was Katherine, the spotlight operator, and the scruffy lass was his daughter Poppy.

I settled back as Stan began reminiscing - he told me that he met his wife Martha when they were both aged 8 and their parents brought them to the drama society to be munchkins in a production of the "Wizard of Oz". They grew up together through school, fell in love, married at 18 and had Poppy late in life aged 40 after many years of being told they could never have children. Martha had passed away suddenly 10 years ago of cancer so his heart scare had really hit Poppy hard as she struggled with the thought she might lose her dad too.

The time passed really quickly in that cosy booth with conversation a mixed bag of technical talk, swapping bits of our life stories, more introductions and tales of scandalous goings on amid the society. Before I knew it 10pm arrived, activity ground to a halt and the group dispersed for their homes or as Stan informed me many would be heading for a wind down beer at the pub over the road where I was more than welcome to join them. I decided to pass having been on the home brew for a few hours and walked the few miles back to my home.

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I was savouring the warmth of her body and gentle rise and fall of her breathing as we snuggled together and her orgasm subsided. The scent of her body aroused me once more and my cock began to swell.

She rolled across the king size bed onto her back and we began to kiss. I moved down slightly to kiss and suck and nibble at her neck knowing how it affected her then gradually moved down to her pale little nipples. I licked and nibbled them slowly, yet passionately. I kissed and suckled on each breast, gently sucking one of the small stiff points deep into my mouth whilst simultaneously flicking and teasing the other with my hand.

She drew my face up to kiss again, more deeply now, open mouthed and with tongues jabbing and slashing at one another.

I placed a hand between her legs and sought out the heat of her womanhood. She spread her legs wide in response and my fingers stroked slowly across the smooth outside of her pussy. Stroking turned to rubbing slowly. Already wet from our previous exertions I began to move my fingers between her engorged lips which opened like a rare flowering bloom to allow me in.

I paused briefly and moved a finger lightly but quickly near her clit. For the first time in all our lovemaking this elicited a moan of pleasure and I slid the finger slowly into her, moving it around as she began to squirm. Knowing what she could take I added a second digit and almost instantly two fingers were making her squeal. I pumped them slowly in and out, sometimes pausing to rub them deeply up inside her pussy seeking out the elusive spongy pad, the fabled g-spot, but rather than louder moaning the response was increased writhing and panting. My partner grasped my wrist to stop me, momentarily confused and wondering if I'd done something wrong but it quickly dawned on me it was to change positions.

She sat up and rolled over, agilely throwing a leg over my waist to straddle my middle, kneeling astride me. She placed my eager hands onto her narrow sexy hips and pushed herself up and back - a soft hand tenderly grasped the head of my cock, lining everything up, before she commenced impaling herself on my thick shaft once more. I don't think I had ever experienced such a depth of penetration with any woman I had ever slept with as she wiggled herself completely onto my member. Fully engaged, our pubes entwined, she lay forward onto me - her bullet hard nipples pressing against my own and her soft breasts mashed against my chest - to whisper in my ear, "relax and enjoy, it's my turn to please you now".

She raised herself upright once more without the use of her hands, her washboard flat stomach and defined abs a testament to her incredible core strength. An ethereal vision of beauty, enhanced by the backlight from the window she now took over completely.

Raising herself up a few inches she used gravity to drop and drive me back deep into her, faster and faster. Each time she rose only enough to bring my cock out two or three inches before plunging down quickly, forcing it back in so that the deepest parts of her were being reached. Every sense of mine was on overload, I was tingling all over and my cock felt as though it would burst from the pleasure.

She rode me harder and harder now, rocking forward and back on each stroke as well as vertically with palms on my chest for support tweaking my nipples. With both of us covered in a sheen of sweat and without warning she slammed downward and collapsed onto me as she was suddenly hit with yet another orgasm, this time coming with such force and abandon that she actually cried out in the throes of ecstasy. The contractions of her pussy so intense that I exploded, my erection pulsating with spasm after spasm, thick jets of semen bursting deep inside her, both lost in a haze of sensual glory.

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I'd woken at 5am to a glorious dawn chorus outside my window and suddenly realised the full enormity of what I had agreed to. It's not like I'd never worked under pressure before, quite the opposite, but that had always been working buried deep inside my comfort zone and not on something I'd taken on as a whim without any previous knowledge or experience.

Fighting down a brief panic attack I remembered I was still in possession of the theatre keys from the previous day so I made a quick breakfast and headed for the theatre at a brisk trot. No sign of Brian this morning, for which I was grateful, so I stowed my gear in the control booth and headed down through the auditorium to completely acquaint myself with the theatre layout and operation.

What I found below stage level were the dressing rooms I anticipated, two sets mirroring each other on either side of a corridor running the full width of the building with a stage door one end and an emergency fire exit on the other. Popping my head into them I found 4 large rooms that would hold about a dozen people each then 4 smaller rooms to hold maybe half a dozen each and finally 8 rooms large enough for a single individual. It was simple enough to deduce from the costume rails that the large rooms were for chorus members, the medium rooms for the groups of dancers & minor principals and the smallest rooms for the main principal performers.