A whore's life

“Darling, you’re absolutely scrumptious and speak well, though the part doesn’t have many lines. The play isn’t much and so I’ve had to tart up with lots of tricks and eye candy like yourself to keep the audience engaged. You’d be perfect for this. Would you like to be on Broadway?” “Yes.” “Jolly good. Can you spare some time to go over a few details upstairs in my suite?” “Certainly.”

I was in a booth at the bar of the Algonquin Hotel having martinis with the charismatic Desmond. He was 52, tall, burly, bald, and had a salt and pepper beard. He was a famous gay award-winning tyrannical English stage and opera director. A hit London play he’d staged was going to be produced on Broadway, the lead, a 40-year-old English actor was well known there but not in the U.S. and was given permission by Actors Equity to repeat his role. All the other parts would be cast with American actors.

Desmond was wearing jeans and I could see he was packing, a black sweater and a black leather jacket. To many he was a bastard, but he was always nice to me. We went to his suite. He kissed me passionately and began undressing me. He stroked and felt my body. One of his hands caressed my stiffening dick and balls and the other caressed my ass. He sighed. He took off his clothes. Though bulky, his body was solid.

I looked into his eyes as I put on my best pouty sensual expression. I parted my lips and paused briefly. His cock was a sturdy fine piece of uncut British beef and his low-hanging balls were bountiful. I slowly orally enveloped his manhood whilst putting my lips and tongue to use. He closed his eyes and gasped. I was practiced as being submissive to older powerful men and so was enraptured to perform a symphony of deepthroated cocksucking on Desmond’s exceptional member for quite a while. He seemed transfixed by me and so, though he definitely was the dominant figure, I seemed in a way to call the shots. When I felt him be erect to the point of exploding, I slowly slid my mouth of his cock.

I strode majestically to the bed, affixed myself with my back against the headboard and spread my legs. In a frenzy, Desmond grabbed a jar of Vaseline and slicked up his cock and put a gob on his fingers and then digitally penetrated me. His fingers were soon replaced by his cock. Oh! This man in his 50’s was possessed by having willing boy flesh at his disposal. His animated fucking was physically and mentally profoundly pleasurable. I overdid my sobbing which further turned him on. He smiled when he brought me to a shuddering and sensational orgasm which was evidenced by my huge load of cum which landed on his chest as he was above me. His own climax brought forth a battle cry of joy as I felt his spunk bathing my insides. He pulled out of my flaming ass and lay breathing heavy on the bed. I rose and went to the bathroom to clean myself up.

When I returned, he was now wearing a robe and was holding two glasses of whiskey. He handed one to me and we clinked glasses. “Well! The part is yours.” “Thank you, kind sir” I replied in my best Oliver Twist voice. He laughed. We sat and sipped our whiskies at a table.

“Now, I’m aware that you’re a boy with no training who’s never been onstage. However, all you have to do is look pretty and spout some rubbish. You’ve certainly demonstrated your talents for that. Don’t get carried away about your ‘career’, just enjoy this awfully big adventure. Darling, there’s one more thing. The star Hugh, is a nervous nelly fretting about this and that, he needs a lot of handling. In London, there was an arrangement with the boy who played your part. On matinee days, between performances during the run he went to Hugh’s dressing room for a shag. You’d get a separate weekly pay packet funded by the producers for such services. Oh, he is quite handsome and hung. Would you be amenable?” “For the good of the production I’d be most amenable, guvnor.”

The play took place at the King’s palace in Paris in the 1600’s. It was one of those witty historical comedies British playwrights cranked out. In a single day, the King is bedeviled by his wife who is having an affair with a nobleman, his meddling mother, his treacherous son, a daughter refusing to agree to an arranged marriage and a wily Cardinal. Two acts of royal hijinks brought to a frothy conclusion.

I was to play the King’s servant. I would open an ornate door, march in accompanied by a character and announce, “Your Majesty, the Duke of Orleans” and grandly exit. I did that several times similarly during the play. In addition, twice the King would pull a velvet bellpull to summon me and tell me things like, “Fetch Princess Margot.”

I had to join the union, Actors Equity and would be getting the minimum of $465 a week. The December day I signed the contract to appear in the play was the agency’s office Christmas party. It was mostly employees and a few important clients. Sam invited me to stay and introduced me to people. There was lots of fancy food and drinks.

“Well! I got you on Broadway” said Sam standing next to me after some time at the party. “We’re going to finish our drinks and then we’re going back to my place to fuck.”