Theatre of Dreams Part 1

Theatre of Dreams Part 1:

This 2 parter took a long time to write. My reward is to read the comments from readers. Particularly I like to know if the reader is a woman – and if she enjoyed it !!

In the early 1980’s I had finished school and dropped out of University at 19. I I was looking for work that I would find interesting – and through a friend stumbled into working in professional theatre as stage crew. This developed into the opportunity to go out on tour as Assistant Stage Manager with a children’s show – somewhat like a British pantomime – which toured week by week around English provincial theatres.

It was hard work but great fun. We would arrive in a town on a Sunday – start unloading all the scenery and props – prepare the sets and stage and then open on the Monday night. We would then run one show a night through to the Saturday – then after the last show – pack everything back into the wagon – and move on to the next place.

In this particular show there was a short dance piece which needed children to perform. So the show management had made arrangements with dance schools in each town for groups of about a dozen six and seven year old little girls to be part of the show. (Don’t worry this isn’t one of those type of stories !!) Their dance mistresses would have been sent all the dance instructions and script weeks before – and then they would have a rehearsal with us – on the stage on the Monday afternoon – ready for curtain up that night. It all worked very well – but because it was all a bit strange to the little girls – they would have chaperones or minders with them – most of whom were mums or aunties.

The mum’s and aunties would look after the girls, keep them quiet back stage whilst the show was going on, make sure they had their costumes and props – and generally looked after them.

Three of four weeks into the tour – we turned up in a new town. It was one of the oldest provincial theatres in the country – rather dark, very old fashioned – but friendly and historic. The dance troupe arrived and were accommodated – and the show got underway.

On the second night – I had been handling some scenery – when I got a vicious splinter in my hand. It hurt like hell – and was difficult to dislodge. One of the mums told me to let her have a look. Because it is always so dark back stage we went to a quiet corner at the back of the stage area where there was some light. I sat down on the edge of a prop box – and she took my hand to see how she could help. Plenty of other mum’s were around – and some of the stage crew – going about there business.

“What’s up ?” one of them asked.

“Splinter” I replied and showed him.

“Fuck that looks nasty” he said “You’ll need some help with that. I’ll go and tell the SM you’re out of action for a few minutes” and off he went to let the Stage Manager know.

In order to see properly – my “nurse” took both my hand and forearm – and gripped it across her chest – whilst with the other hand and some tweezers from her handbag – she probed the splinter. As she worked I gradually became aware – that my upper fore arm was directly across her left breast. In fact it was firmly pressing into that soft flesh – and I could feel the rise and fall of her nicely rounded tit pushing rhythmically against me.

Being 19, under experienced and horny – the sexual tension began to strike me. The lady holding me firmly to her bust – was in her late thirties, blonde (dyed) – bobbed hair – a little over-weight – but only to the advantage of the very large rounded bust against which my arm was now resting. She was attractive – but not stunning. She smelt nice, smiled a lot and I was beginning to like her a lot !

It was early summer – and of course back stage it gets very warm. So my new friend was wearing just a light, flowery cotton dress – like mums used to wear then – straight and simple fastened all the way down the front by a zipper. If anything it was perhaps a little too tight for her – so it stretched a bit over her large bust and those other curvy parts of her that boys like to look at and imagine grappling with. This also allowed for a clear impression of where her underwear lay beneath the thin material. The knickers were clearly quite small and tight on the panty-line – and the bra bravely held those big jugs up and forward. The zip on the dress was done up nearly as high as it could go – but it still allowed a glimpse of cleavage at this range.