Chapter 1

Friday

Gill was fine. He said his back was all sorts of shades of purple, and he was having trouble sleeping, but he was his peppy self, zipping around back stage to hand cast members umbrellas or suitcases or whatever the next scene called for.

It always seems to be this way, but the show went so much better than it had in rehearsals. And the crowd, while largely friends and family members of the cast, had been very enthusiastic all night. They were even laughing at some of the dated jokes that should have gotten a mere eyeroll.

The band was playing. The cast had done the curtain call, and the curtains had closed. The audience continued to clap.

“Russ, should we do another curtain call?” asked Luke, our lead actor.

I pondered it, when Gilbert, who was standing next to me in the wings said, “Always leave them wanting more.”

I laughed. “Nope! We’re good. You can head out to the reception. Be back here tomorrow at noon.”

Rivermeadow’s show schedule was always the same. Opening night was Friday, followed by a light reception in the hall off the lobby, where folks could mingle with the cast in costume. Saturday saw a matinee and final performance, followed by the cast party. Sunday, we strike the set and return to our miserable lives until the next show begins.

The reception hall is a harshly bright room with white walls and white floors and a white table with some cheese and crackers and grapes on toothpicks and popcorn and coffee and a punchbowl full of what tasted like Hi-C. I shook hands with folks and smiled and wanted to get out of there and get to a bar and imbibe a bit.

But then Cynthia walked up to me. Cynthia, my first real girlfriend after college. We dated for about 2 years before she gave up on me, realizing I wasn’t ever going to propose. I didn’t have my shit together back then (I barely do, now), and I was pretty shitty to her after she dumped me. We’d been facebook friends for a while now, and I knew she was married and lived in Maryland or Delaware or somewhere out east.

Tonight, she was here alone, and she looked good. Real good. Like, super fit and I don’t think her hair had ever looked as pretty. We made eye contact and she gave me a hug.

“Congrats on the play! It was so great! I’m so proud of you,” she said.

We made small-talk and I learned she and her husband (Greg? I think she said his name is Greg) divorced last winter and she was in the midst of moving back home. She came to the play with her mother. We agreed to meet for drinks next weekend to catch up.

As the crowd started to thin out, and cast members began to head backstage to get out of makeup and costumes, I caught Christy looking at me from across the room. I smiled, and she smiled back. I mimed guzzling a beer while looking quizzically at her, and she nodded enthusiastically. I think it was the first time I’d asked someone out without asking them out.

I had to stick around and talk to all of the endowment folks and the Rivermeadows management. I gave notes to our music director, who, miraculously found a much more competent bass player at the last minute. I was among the last to leave Rivermeadow when Christy texted me. “We’re at Tony’s. We’re sitting on the left side.”

She said “we’re.” Cool, cool.

It was easy to spot Christy, since she hadn’t washed off her stage makeup and looked a bit, well, out-of-place with such drastic drawn-on features.

Christy was at a table with Avril, the green-haired woodwind player from the pit. Also at the table were a couple I learned were Christy’s older sister Rebecca and Rebecca’s fiancé, Gavin. The chair between Avril and Gavin was available. Yay. I bought a round and finished my first beer in record time.

Gavin and Rebecca were very friendly and chatty. I’m pretty sure Avril’s intentions were the same as mine in regards to wanting to see Christy naked. It made me wonder if I had read Christy wrong and maybe she wasn’t straight.

Gavin and Rebecca left after the round I bought, and, when Christy came back from the ladies’ room, she sat down next to me and leaned up against me.

I’d read Avril right, and she hastily made her departure after finishing her drink. Rumors would be flying all around the backstage tomorrow thanks to Christy leaning into me, which will be a pain to deal with. On the other hand, I could feel her body pressed against mine.

“You did a great job tonight. You really nailed your dance number,” I said, as I sipped beer number three.

“I know! I was so worried about that part toward the end with the kicks. But it went so smoothly tonight. Do you want to take me home?”

I nearly did a spit take. “Uh. Yeah. Let’s ... um...”

She already had started to put on her jacket. “Should we take an Uber? You okay to drive?”

“I literally live the next block over, so we can walk.” I said shakily, wondering if I actually had the energy to impress a lady a decade younger than me that looks like a supermodel.

She wore one-inch heels, but it was enough that she seemed slightly taller than me as we walked to my house, arms interlinked. We stopped twice to make out a little bit before finally getting in the front door.

“I said to myself I wasn’t going to seduce you until the cast party. But this is close enough,” Christy said as she unceremoniously removed her jacket and t-shirt before I had even closed the front door.

“I, um, whew.” I eloquently said as she removed her bra and revealed her marvelously perky breasts.

Seconds later, our lips were mashed together and our tongues dancing. My hands cupped her breasts as she rubbed the front of my jeans. I kissed her chin, her neck, her collarbone and eventually, my lips found her left nipple and sucked it into my mouth. My tongue dancing over its tip.

Christy arched her back, pressing her tits into my face. “Oh. Wow! Wow! Wow. I want to feel that tongue everywhere on me.”

I switched nipples and she slightly squealed, and she started to try to take off her pants without letting my mouth move away from her perky little tit.