After my performance as Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, I despaired of getting another part, but when the director approached me my hopes rose. “It’s Trevor,” he said, “He’s having a few difficulties with his lines. Can you coach him?”

Trevor was something of a hunk, not someone I’d normal see playing Hamlet. Maybe Stanley Kowalski but that’s another story. With his shirt off he surely exuded box office appeal, and I’d kill for the part of Ophelia, even in a read-through. Still, the whole thing smelled of set-up to me: rare is the theater major who can’t memorize.

I scheduled us for Saturday morning at my place. I had a plate of Danish on the kitchen counter and a sparkling wine in the fridge.

“So how do we work this?” Trevor asked, brushing crumbs from his shirt. I refilled his wine glass.

“Let’s start with something easy. ‘To be, or not to be,’” I prompted.

“‘To be, or not to be,’ he began.

I unbuttoned my shirt.

“To ... um ... whether ... um ... What are you doing?”

“Distracting you, my Lord? Do you not approve of my buttons?”

“Is that in the play?”

“Two shirt buttons free my breasts. One pants button brings my bush to view, had I a bush, but see, I’m bare.”

He gulped.

“More wine?”

He gulped again.

I hopped down from the counter and unbuttoned him. Shirt first, then pants. His underwear bowed big with upcurved cock. Fabric pushed down, the cock sprang up. I gave it the littlest lick. It lurched.

“Take it from the top,” I said, looking up into the wonderment of his eyes. “Whether to suffer the slurp and slosh of a...”

I gave him my best questioning look. His mouth opened. More wonderment.

“Fine, be that way,” I said, and I slurped him deep.”

He groaned then, a groan of more power and poetry than all of Hamlet and Lear, Othello and Macbeth.

Originally I thought we’d fuck, but a blow-job would have to do. It was a nice cock. It was yummy cum when it came. I swallowed and swallowed and zipped him up and handed him his script book.

Bashfully he asked if I had any advice.

I wiped his excess from my lips. “You might want to consider Rosencrantz or Guildenstern.”