Chapter 7
The first week of rehearsals was so exhausting I did not even get to explore the seventeen room mini-mansion that Stefan Raunchek had acquired to house us all. For the first two weeks I had a room all to myself. Later on as the company would increase in size we were told we would be doubling up. We rehearsed eight hours a day and I spent most of the night trying to learn lines. I was the greenest member of the company and there seemed to be very little contact with the rest of the cast, all men WHO APPEARED TO BE THE VERMONT
CHAPTER OF THE GAY Liberation Front. A died in the wool hetero like me had to content herself with her work, not that I had any time for play.
Stefan, on the other hand, had possibilities. As director, he would linger, making a point about blocking, and brush his hand surreptitiously across my shoulders. But he didn't live in the Victorian house and a dark-eyed vixenish chick would come by to pick him up for dinner breaks. The days passed quickly and suddenly we were scheduled to open. After one week's rehearsal, I was shaking with fright, certain my voice would crack or that I'd drop a line. My insane one a week summer had begun.
Somehow we got through the opening night performance played to a packed, staid looking house of the local hoi polloi. A party to which the whole town came preceded our gala opening and the audience was well-oiled. They loved the show, despite the minor fluffs that had to happen with such a short rehearsal period. What we all looked forward to was the post theatre party promised by one of the backers of the theatre when we could let our hair down after a week of stomach curdling tension.
We piled into various cars and drove off into the night, a procession of unwinding actors, musicians and gentlemen farmer types with their genteel wives. What followed was the drunkenest spree anyone could imagine in the roiling farmhouse that could have been the summer White House.
'Great job!" Stefan beamed, planting a kiss that dripped bourbon.
"A fine little actress," the middle-aged backer prompted, pecking me to the dismay of his starched and pinched wife. "Pour you another, my dear?" And he did.
The evening wore on and we were all plied with the best brands of liquor. It wasn't too long before there was a huge splash and we saw Stefan thrashing in the pool into which he fell or was pushed. Our host was next and then it was a free for all. My leading man dropped me with a drunken tackle and into the briny deep I went, clothes and all. In moments the whole pool was alive with all of Dempsey's society kicking and splattering water everywhere. While treading water J discovered the undersea life that hankered for a piece of my bod. The tentacles belonged to Stefan Raunchek who had a death grip on my water-logged panties. Before I could cough the water out of my lungs another form of sea life, the dark-eyed Celia swam between us with anger burning. I don't know who she was more upset with, Stefan or me.
Her fingers grappling my hair made it clear she was angrier with me. I went under with Celia's fingers knotted in my hair and Stefan's tight grasp yanking at my short hairs.
I broke free of the wrangling couple and surfaced, gasping for breath and furious. I thought I had left a scene like this behind in New York. I floundered to the side of the pool only to stare at the leering mug of the host of the shindig, his cheeks puffed into a riotous grin.
"Like to dry off Utile lady," he belched offering his hand.
I took it and was hoisted ashore. "Pity, you're all drenched. Hope you didn't ruin your dress."
He seemed particularly concerned with the shrinkage possibilities around my breasts, for he squeezed the water off the lace frill until the shiny white of my jugs were well encased in his ruddy hands.
"Let's get a towel," he mumbled and I followed dumbly. We went to a cabana room just off the pool and I could hear the cast and various guests still whooping it up and thrashing in the pool.
"There's a robe in there," he pointed and I stepped into an informal locker room to change. I put on a luxurious towel robe and dried myself off. Then there was a knock on the door.
"I'm decent," I called.
"Well, I'm not," he called and he opened the door stark naked, a rubber tire of paunch surrounding his middle.
"You're a very talented young lady," he whispered.
From his look. I knew he wasn't talking about my acting ability. "Want to give an old fellow like me a private performance."
He looked almost pitiful standing there in his altogether and I wasn't thinking too clearly anyway, so I just smiled. That was his cue and he was up on his part.
A hefty hard-on was beginning to bob under his hairy paunch and that was the last I saw of it. He flicked off the light switch and I was pushed suddenly onto the chaise.
"Easy goes it," I warned.
But his thick lips were already on mine and I felt his hand creep under the robe and between my thighs.
"You be nice to me and you can stay here all summer," he mumbled. "One word from me and Stefan will send you packing back to the city."
He didn't have to come on so strong and on such a tack. "Don't threaten me if you want some genuine action."
He almost went limp at my backtalk.
"I'm sorry, I just wasn't sure you would look kindly on my advances," he apologized. "I didn't mean that."
The discussion ended, his hand resumed its exploration of my privates and I willingly slipped my cupped hand around his knobby rod. It thickened in my grasp and my tingling sexual responses came quickly under his gentle hands.
He opened the robe and planted his lips on my nipples. He laved at them with his tongue until they were taught-skinned brown nuts and I increased my pressure on his peter, thrilling with the pulsing throb as his vein pounded against my fingers. His chin squeezed between my thighs making them feel like creamy velvet and his vibrant tongue pressed my vulva.
"Mmmm," he moaned and the tang of my juices touched his probing tongue. My whole body was suddenly out of control and I shuddered with anticipation. His lips parted my thickening, moistening cunt-lips and my pelvis sucked at his tongue. I was ready immediately. He sensed it and his hand circled his hard, hefty prick. A beat later his knobby headed tool replaced his licking tongue and he felt the warm moisture of my primed pussy as he started to penetrate. I flexed my legs to feel his weight slide slickly into my wet, salivating channel. I was hot and open all the way.
He put his hands on my breasts and rammed his stick of dynamite all the way as far as it could reach. I felt his balls slap firmly against my fanny and my muscles clawed and clutched at the root of his manhood. Tiny suction cups in my insides grabbed and squeezed hungrily at his thickness.
He bent to kiss and nibble at my nipples, taking them with care between his teeth and pressuring gently. He inhaled, drawing most of my jugs into his mouth. I felt the cone tips scrape against his upper palate.
If this guy could back a theatre the way he made love the Dempsey Playhouse was on solid footing. I tried to throw my hands around his gray head, but he put me off and pinned my hands above my head. I threw my wet hair with the frustration of being pinned and he laughed throatily.
He drove in and poked, letting the tip of his rod rake across my clitoris. He was driving me crazy with unbearable stimulation. I began to writhe and buck, slamming my hips back into his heavy haunches, slapping my hard Utile belly against his thick-girthed waist.
He was near to reaching his peak and I was right along too. He began to pant and grunt like some primordial animal. I was slipping further down on the chaise and suddenly I relaxed my grip around his butt with my legs. I squeezed my knees around his chest and felt his hard hot cock sucking in and out of my raving pussy as fast and powerful as a piston. He scoured my womanhood with his relentless shaft and I bit into his ear with the frenzy he worked. He hissed in pain and then we came together. His lengthy prick was drenched with my juices and his steaming shaft spewed his manstuff into me. The two of us jerked crazily for many seconds afterward while our long orgasms called the rune, hot and syncopated.
He covered my eyes with kisses and I held him firmly between my legs and arms. I was trembling in the afterglow of our session and finally he slid off me. I didn't even remember his name and he had given me one hell of a happy run for my money.
"I hope you will remember this little bout my dear. I know, I will," he said, breathing heavily. "Just come to Thomas Thorndike any time you feel lonely. Just now I'd better see how my other guests are getting along."
The door opened and closed and I lay in the darkness clutching my well satisfied patch of moss, dripping with our juices.
My dress was still damp from the unexpected dip in the pool, but I put it on anyway and stepped outside fifteen minutes later. Some members of the cast were leaving and I joined them for the ride home.
Strangely, I didn't see the highly-sexed Mr. Thorndike again because he left the next day for a Far East tour for the company he worked for, or was executive director of ... I never found out which.
But I had plenty to keep me occupied in the next days as we began to get into the season. The show continued to go well for the rest of its run and I found that I was a cause celebre within a fifty mile radius of Dempsey. The public relations director of the theatre had me booked onto interview programs on radio stations just two towns away, and invitations to parties began coming as more and more of the summer population began to attend the playhouse.
Small town summer stock became rather gratifying as I discovered I was the largest and prettiest fish in the small Dempsey pond. College students home from their campuses began to form a little clique of stage door Johnnies, sometimes coming on strong, while others shyly ogled a real "New York actress."
One of these kids was Edward Davison who had his first crop of long hair after a freshman year at Harvard. His parents owned a huge estate five miles from town. He was a nervous young buck, forever licking his newly sprouting mustache. On top of it all he had a stammer.
"W-would you l-l-like to-to ggo rrowing on my l-lake?" Edward blurted backstage after a show.
He was a sweet looking combination of adolescence and manhood and I fought off my first impulse to turn him off. A trip between his long legs was a distinct possibility and when he relaxed his stammer wasn't quite so pronounced.
"Sure, if it doesn't interfere with rehearsal," I replied.
"T-tuesday morning?"
"You've been checking the rehearsal schedule, haven't you," I laughed.
"Uh, huh," he smiled sheepishly. "It's a date."
He picked me up in the family Ferrari and we sped out of town. I could get very used to such luxury.
"D-did yyou br-bring your bbathing suit," he asked.
"Don't you row well?" I joked.
"W-we ccould ggo swimming," he managed.
I poked into my beach bag and pulled out my postage stamp bikini. "This too risque?"
He gulped and grinned. "That's nnice."
I was feeling deliciously wicked and I slapped his knee. He blushed purple.
"M-mom and d-dad xxon't be home anyway," he stuttered.
I wasn't sure quite how to take that. It was no secret that actors and actresses are still freaks to most Americans, to be seen only on the other side of the footlights. Heaven help you if you're seen with one in mufti. The second class citizenship Edward had just conferred on me raised my hackles.
"Maybe its too cold for a swim," I suggested.
"Huh?" Edward wondered, startled.
"What you just said to me wasn't too cool, but if we're gonna do a trip about not being good enough to be seen with young master Edward Davison you'd better stop the car."
Edward brought the sports car to a screeching halt and shot me a confused look.
"I-I didn't mmean anything by that. My parents are straight-laced people, that's all. They're both at the country club this morning. I didn't mean to imply that I was ashamed of you or anything."
His lips were trembling with a plaintive plea-but his stutter was gone. I stared long at his beautiful mouth and my insides fluttered with stimulation.
"Is it O.K. to keep driving?" he asked.
"I'm sorry," I apologized touching his hand. His skin seemed to leap at my touch. I snuggled closer to him in my bucket seat and let my wrist linger on his knee while he shifted the gear and we sped off along the hilly road.
I tugged playfully on some hairs that sprouted on his knee and let my hand fall on his inner thigh where the hair was even thicker. His strongly muscled legs felt like iron under my fingers and I couldn't wait to see what the rest of his body had in store. He pulled through the main gate of their estate and we drove a thousand yards before we even saw a house. Suddenly a miniature chateau loomed above the tree-lined avenue and we had arrived at the Davison homestead. But Edward turned off onto a dirt road that led away from the main drive.
"Lake's just a half mile down here," he explained.
The sports car pulled into a clearing and I could see the blueness of the lake glittering in the early morning sun. To the left a rustic cabin snuggled against a breathtaking backdrop of mountains and pale greenery.
"We can change in there," he pointed.
We walked up to the tiny cabin. He put a long arm around my shoulders. I could almost feel him trembling with self-consciousness.
"You've rowed a boat before, haven't you," I asked trying to set him at his ease.
"S-sure."
The stutter was back and I began to tighten up too.
"Good, I thought so with those muscles." I brushed his forearm and felt tiny goose bumps touch my fingers.
He swung his shock of dark hair in embarrassment and chewed his scraggly mustache. I stroked his arm all the more and he began to relax. I couldn't care less about the lake. I just wanted my young Romeo to put his firm limbs around me and hold still for about an hour.
Inside the cabin I swallowed hard to see the priceless antiques that furnished the place.
"Y-you can change behind that screen," he said and I took my beach bag behind a beautifully carved Oriental relic. I dabbed myself with some perfume and sprinkled some of the unholy ointment between my thighs. Through the cracks in the screen I could see Edward changing. He modestly turned his back to my direction and I caught a glimpse of his fine white buttocks. He turned fully toward me and I saw his forest of dark crotch hair and a semierect log ripe for the cut ting. He scratched his low hung testicles and pulled on a white skin-tight bathing suit. His peter continued to bulge and I almost laughed aloud as he flicked at the knobby bump to make it recede. His face reddened with embarrassment and he turned away trying to make his equipment less obvious.
I pulled on the bikini quickly, hoping to catch him before he denied his body's responses.
"Ready," I sang, emerging suddenly.
I caught him by surprise and he turned to reveal an even larger bulge.
"Your rudder's sticking out," I pointed.
He went purple. Now was no time to stop.
"Can I steer for awhile," I asked sticking my hand out and touching the satin-smooth bump. I leaned over to give him a look at my creamy white cleavage.
"Uh....I-I'm ssorry," Edward stammered.
"Not me. Sure you want to go rowing?"
I felt his pecker twitch with excitement and my mouth watered with hope.
"W-we don't have t-to."
"I like indoor sports myself, how about you?"
"Wow," he exhaled.
I took his hand and shoved it between my breasts. His rod looked like it would burst through the front of his bathing suit.
"It's a little close in here with all these clothes on," I smiled. "Any suggestions?"
"W-we could take them off."
"You get an A in anthropology and climate control. Want to undo the straps to this thing?"
His fingers leaped to the task and I felt his hot headed prick jab my stomach.
His chest fluttered against my chin and I slipped two fingers under his waistband. He leaned over and kissed me on the nose. I stood on my toes and captured his lips with mine.
Edward's face was beet red and I brushed his flaming cheek with my hand.
"Give me what you've got," I whispered, sliding my hand against his hard, flat stomach.
I encircled his straining rod with my fingers and felt his blood-thickened piece swell to my touch.
"E-ever since I ssaw you, I-I've wa-wanted you," he stammered.
"Here I am and I want you to stuff your cock into me," I breathed.
He held me close and I pulled at his tight-fitting suit to let his rod shoot out in all its erect glory. His suit skimmed, he stuck out like a rifle, cocked and ready. I sank to my knees and grabbed handfuls of his dark pubic hair, drawing him closer, until his taut shaft licked my lips. I opened wide and sucked his hairy manhood into my watering mouth. He shuddered with the moist sensation and I bit into his delicious candy bar.
His fingers flitted over my cheeks while I drew him in more and more deeply. His thick glans massaged my upper palate and I squeezed his sac of balls to increase his mouth-filling sex. My tongue washed his heavenly spear and my jaws ached to snap off his luscious length.
He rocked and frictioned against my teeth and I felt him jerk back suddenly. His rod tingled with promise of coming and he was shaking with fear. I wanted nothing more than to feel his vibrant young seed splash against my gums and so I massaged and pressured with lips and fingers to bring Edward to the brink.
He pulled away and I yanked him back, brutally. His rod was crimson in my grasp and I was seized by the insatiable desire to bleed the color to white. All he needed to do was come I thought madly. I pumped the root of his rod with my thumb and suddenly a stream of liquid fire cascaded into my thirsting mouth. His slippery semen washed my tongue and I beamed with delight. I licked his oozing glans and scoured him clean, savoring the salty taste of his waxen come. But Edward's face was a picture of confusion. "There's plenty more where that came from, isn't there?" I asked hotly.
I desired this boy to the depths of my soul. My pussy was wracked with pangs of lust for his hefty piece.
Edward could come, but could he fuck? There's nothing like experience to find the answer and so I pulled his willing body down to the floor. His hands were already stripping my bikini bottom. He put a tentative hand on my blonde fern of short hair and gingerly pressed his finger against my vulva. "Go on, push all the buttons," I urged. I pushed his hand into my moss patch and rotated it until I could feel his finger slip between my love lips and sink into the hot ooze that churned in my pussy.
He got the picture fast-as I never doubted he would and he began a vigorous reaming of my seething box. I bucked to feel his knuckle scrape my inner flesh and he knelt closer. Gently, he drove me into a frenzy of sexual excitement. Just as I thought he was going to bring me off at the end of his fingertips, however, he pulled his sticky probe out and daintily licked at my pink labia.
His eyebrows questioned if it was alright and I smiled to urge the darling boy on. In plunged his long thick tongue and I lurched with the sudden sensation. He buried his mouth in my welling sex and drove me insane with his snaking tongue. He smeared me into an orgasmic state and I lay back helpless while my insides burst into a shower of sparks.
I was open and craving and my A plus student knew what to do next. His mouth, dripping with my juices, pressed against mine and I tasted my scent on his tongue while his rock hard rod jammed against my thighs.
I reached for his rigid prick and guided the stick of dynamite into my grotto. It slithered in on a welllubricated track and I was pleasantly stuffed with Edward's magic wand.
He began pumping slowly, covering my face with kisses. My lips and pussy sucked at him in unison. His tongue and peter were tuned to each other, too, and my raving box and my hungry mouth were both being screwed with his double barrelled action.
Edward the stutterer was smooth as silk when it came to the important things in life. His long loving rod seemed to go on forever as he pressed deep into my belly. He began to pick up the tempo and I was stroked to the brink of another climax. He came down hard hitting my clit and I braced to feel another delicious hit when the room suddenly filled with light.
I heard Edward gasp and go suddenly limp still in me. I peered behind his head and the glowering figure of Mrs. Davison, golf club in hand hovered at the door.
"Edward, go back to the house and go to your room," she commanded.
Edward had become like jelly on top of me. He wiggled off and hung his head. "Pl-please, mmother," he began.
"Get out and now. I'll deal with this little bitch."
Edward the stutterer turned out to be Edward the bastard, too, for he ob-eyed like a little dog, dragging his tail between his legs where his balls should have been.
The door closed and suddenly it was Mrs. Davison and me, still dumbly on the floor.
"I could Mil you," she hissed from her puritan gray face.
"Just like you killed your son," I asked waspishly.
The only answer I got was the stinging crack of the hand end of the club across my thighs. I tried to get up, my skin striped with pain, when she put one cleated shoe on my stomach.
I felt the hard rubber bite into my flesh and then the club was jammed between my legs.
I held my breath, expecting the worst from this vindictive mother, completely vulnerable.
"If you ever come near my son again, I will kill you. Do you understand," she demanded.
"Uh, huh," I nodded tightly.
She shoved the head of the club against my pussy and I thought I would pass out. "Nobody will spoil my son, you little bitch," she hissed. Her gloved hand came down on my face and I felt the buckle break my skin. A dozen horrifying thoughts flew through my mind and it came clear that she knew who I was and was determined to bruise my face so I couldn't appear on stage. I tried to cover my head but she pried my elbows away. In desperation I lunged and caught her off balance. She toppled over on top of me and we wrestled. Her face was just inches from mine and I clawed at it, grabbing a fist full of hair I pulled as hard as I could and she squealed with pain. She shook free and then dropped her face to my breasts. The world was emblazoned in red when she sank her teeth into my tit. I cried in pain and pumped my knees, catching her squarely between her thighs. The golf club clattered to the floor and I took advantage of her momentary surprise to get to my feet. I could taste blood in my mouth and I was in a panic to get the hell out of that cabin. I knocked over the screen getting to my clothes and threw the priceless piece of art in her path as she continued to advance in my direction. I threw open the door to the cabin only half dressed and looked back to see the old cow tangled in the mother of pearl screens. A shiny Cadillac glimmered in the carport. Edward's Ferrari was nowhere in sight. I ran to the limousine and saw some keys in the dash. My mind was set on that insane woman not catching me and so I reached in, pulled out the keys and threw them in the bushes ten feet away. Then I started to run. When I looked back the woman was searching the grass frantically looking for the keys. I had put about two acres between us and I slowed to a walk.
I couldn't wait to be off the Davison property and simply struck out for the main road. My mouth was stinging with the blow my attacker had laid on me and I felt the numbness of my cheek where she had opened the skin. I looked back and saw no one. I decided to cut across the field to the rock ledge that demarked the huge estate. I climbed over the pile of rocks and thumbed a ride back to Dempsey with a kindly farmer who minded his business and disregarded what I assumed was a monster-sized wound on my face.
Doubtless he would have a pip of a story to embroider when he went to his next American Legion meeting. Nevertheless I remained close-mouthed and didn't volunteer any information. When we got to town I thanked him and slipped around back to the commissary of the big house. No one was around and I glimpsed at a mirror downstairs to see what damage had been done. To my surprise I had only a minor bruise on my face, one that could easily be hidden with make-up for the evening's performance. I still had an horn: before I had to be at the theatre for rehearsal of the following week's play.
A nap in my own room was precisely what I needed to unwind from my Utile episode with the Davisons. I stepped into my room, about to relax for the first time that day, only to find Stefan Raunchek dropping a mattress onto a second bed that wasn't there that morning.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Good morning, Samantha. I thought you were rowing with the Davison kid."
"I'm allergic to water. What are you doing here with that?"
"The new arrivals, remember? For 'Arsenic and Old 79 Lace'? Connie Bouchet, gonna play one of the aunts. She'll be sharing the room."
I must have grimaced at the thought.
"Getting a little star-conscious?" Stefan smirked. "Hey, what happened to your face?"
"Nothing," I snapped. "Cut it on a bramble."
"Let's take a look. A thing like this could hurt the show."
"It's nothing. Just a scratch. Some make-up is all it needs," I argued.
"Uh, uh, what you need is some attention," he said slyly.
"Stefan, I don't have time for a bit now," I said, my voice rising.
He already had his hand on my cheek.
"Celia's gonna carry a knife one of these days," I warned.
"Only doctors carry knives. Let's play doctor," he said pushing me backwards. My calf caught on the new bed and I fell on the sheet-less mattress.
"Stefan for Christ's sake, let me go!"
"You goddamn tease!" he shouted.
"It's all in your head," I retorted.
"Then let's let it all hang out," he spat, ripping my blouse.
His face was a mask of fury, ugly and menacing. The son of a bitch was going to rape me here in my own room. All my energy I had drained and I lay limply on the bed while Stefan heatedly shed his clothes.
His rod was a long surly looking weapon, fully erected and about to be jammed into my dry passionless pussy.
The pain I felt was more than his brutal thrust into my unwilling vagina. Ma Davison's handy golf club had left its impression too and I was sore as the dickens. Oblivious, he rammed his peter through, chafing and scraping my punished flesh. My lack of interest in his amorous efforts only made Stefan more and more frustrated and more brutal in his attack. He was screwing to hurt me now and he took pleasure from every wince my face betrayed. He humped his big ass up and came crashing down, slamming his pecker to the recesses of my grotto.
He grabbed my breasts and squeezed them like marshmallows until I had to cry with the hurt.
"Give some back, you little cunt!"
I stayed tightlipped. His rod swelled like it was under heat and it felt like a salami engorging my insides. He crashed down again in an erratic motion and caught my clitoris. At once my channel-began to lubricate itself and his loathsome rod became less onerous as it slipped where once it had skidded.
My body was betraying me. His pummeling prick began raising a ruckus inside of me. I was sexually awake and responding despite my venomous hate for this bastard.
"Go on, show your teeth you little vixen," Stefan grinned, thumping in with a staccato action. "Pussy like yours needs a real workout. Fat old Thorndike and that Davison kid can't take care of a need like yours."
I clenched my eyes and heard his teasing voice. But his lashing rod was too much to bear. I was giving it all back to him now, humping up to meet his full thickness, swiveling my hips to feel his weapon sear my flesh.
The interrupted episode with Edward had left me unfulfilled and now Stefan Raunchek took up the slack. My thighs were slick with my runny juices and I grabbed both his buttocks to hold his gyrating body in place. My fingers slipped-and I grabbed again, driving my fingernails into his sac of balls. He bellowed in pain, then bit into my Up. His rod seemed suspended and growing larger in my tract. With one last furious heave he came spiralling down into my belly again and hit me with such ferocity that my senses reeled. My insides broke up entirely with a violence that made me shudder many moments afterward. Seconds later he shot his load of oily sperm into my orgasm-wracked pussy.
He pulled his slick spear from my ravenous womb and plunged his mouth against my swollen vulva, nudging my pungent juices into another lustful bout. His teeth pricked my labia and I felt his hot tongue rivet into my crevice and mingle with our dripping fluids. With one deft movement he pivoted his body so his semen covered shaft dawdled over my lips. He continued to ream my pussy with his barbed wire tongue and I was flushed with sexuality. I bobbed for his rod and caught the stiff peter between my lips. I sucked at his glans willingly and delighted to feel it swell while I scraped his membrane with my teeth. His fingers crept into the rosette of my anus and he sucked manfully on my oily clit. I kneaded his hairy balls and blew and chewed on his staff for all I was worth.
His pulsating penis lurched and I was frothing at the' mouth with a healthy wad of his manhood. He pumped and rammed his piece into the back of my throat with his follow through.
I was exhausted and could only lay immobile. He dismounted and stood at the side of the bed. A droplet of semen clung to the tip of his piece and I watched mesmerized and it seemed to bounce in mid air trying to decide whether or not to drip off. He flexed his half-erect rod and the droplet slithered into the air-seemed to hold by imaginary wires and then land on the cone of my left breast. I touched the globule and felt it cool, then circled the wetness around my nipple.
It was a mistake. Almost immediately his rod began to stiffen, taking him almost by surprise too.
"We can't deny the flesh, now can we, Samantha?" Stefan said smiling.
I had my fill, but he was ready for more. He clutched my hips and rolled me onto my stomach.
"No, enough, for God's sake," I moaned.
But Stefan was not to be denied and his reaming fingers clambered into my sodden grotto. He pulled them out and crammed his fingers into my bottom, lubricating my fanny with the combined sludge of our sex. His grease gun of a prick followed as he pulled my rump up and spread my legs with his knees. Stefan didn't wait to warm up, but roared straight through while I buried my head in the mattress to keep from being pitched forward. My anus screamed with pain for his uninvited weapon and I knew I would be split in two by his thrusting thickness.
He grabbed my hanging jugs for leverage and rapped his piece against my sphincter with lighting fast heaves. I pulled at my hair to bear the pain. When his piston swelled for what I prayed was the last time I cried out with a mixture of anger and relief. His final charge of come detonated inside me and he fell forward on my back.
"Get outa here," I screamed.
Spent, he ob-eyed. He smiled his ugly smirk and methodically dressed. I couldn't stand the sight of him and he knew it. He dressed in silence and smug satisfaction.
As soon as he closed the door I started to pack.
I couldn't think of anything but getting away from the whole pack of cannibals, from Stefan to the elite of the Vermont town. Piranha with two legs were haunting me and I had to get out....Back to New York, anywhere. I didn't give a damn about the show that night. Somehow nothing seemed more important anymore than to survive. What had started out to be a promising summer with my newly acquired Equity card had become a living nightmare.
I locked my suitcases and showered. Twenty minutes later I was out the door and walking to the Greyhound Station when Tully Samson, the stage manager drove past in the company station wagon and pulled to an abrupt halt.
"What's happening?" Tully asked with a puzzled look at my bags.
"You'll have to find a new ingenue."
"What do you mean? You're not leaving, are you?'' His look changed from confusion to terror.
"Yes, I am. Talk to Stefan. I'm sure he's got some story."
Tully screwed up his boyish brow. "He didn't say anything to me and I just saw him at the rehearsal hall He couldn't fire you."
Now was no time for involved explanations and so I said he did.
"That's impossible. He's got to give you notice. What about the show tonight? And 'Birdie.' We're two days into rehearsal for next week. You look like you've flipped your wig."
He scrambled out of the car and grabbed my bags. "What the hell is going on," he demanded.
"It's nothing to talk about."
"The hell it isn't. Get in," he ordered.
Before I could pull away, he thrust my bags into the back of the wagon and pushed me inside. I was like jelly, weary and disgusted. He got in and burned rubber to drive us to a neutral spot to talk to me.
I just sat dumbly and sobbed, while able Tully took charge.
"Why did he fire you? Explain just what happened. He could be brought up on charges for this."
Tully still had the story cock-eyed.
"So he didn't fire me, but I've got to leave."
"Listen, you don't just go off one day and blow the whole scene. Tell me what happened. I'm not letting you out of here until I know. Christ, I've got a show to stage manage tonight and one to rehearse."
Earnest Tully was genuinely concerned and I began to feel guilty about putting him and the rest of the show on the spot. We pulled over to a roadhouse outside of town and I tried to control myself while I explained just what happened.
"The sonofabitch!" Tully exclaimed when Stefan entered into the account. He jumped up and left. I was sitting in bewilderment as the wagon careened out of the parking lot.
I sat for twenty minutes trying to decide what to do. My bags were still in the car and he had driven off to Land's End for all I knew. I was about to call the rehearsal hall to find out what had happened or if they even knew where Tully was when my Lochinvar walked through the doors of the roadhouse, his jaw set and his fist clenched. His face was a mask of pain.
"I just broke my knuckle on Stefan Raunchek's chin. I'm going to the clinic. Want a ride?"
I burst out laughing and accompanied my newfound knight in shining armor to the doctor who set his dislocated knuckle. We had to wait though. Stefan was being wired for a broken jaw. He grimaced in pain when he saw us. I began laughing and his temple throbbed with a vein trying to escape his ugly head. "I quit too," Tully yelled.
Stefan grabbed a piece of paper from the nurse and scrawled a message. "You can't, you bastard....What do you want? More money? Name the price. The theatre's going to fold if you all quit."
Tully and I had a quick consultation and it was clear Stefan was over a barrel. Tully held our broken jawed boss to his promise and secured in writing, raises for the both of us. Then we drove to the theatre office and signed new Equity contracts. Stefan was in deep, very deep with his backers and to lose us would have cost him dearly to try to find replacements. I looked with new admiration of Tully Samson, a fresh-cheeked graduate student in theatre who had just turned my darkest day into some sort of victory.
"We'll start rehearsal in half an hour," the businesslike stage manager said.
I went back to my room and unpacked. With Tully in my corner I felt I could take on the world.