After The Show

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My name is Pete. I’m a bit of a techie – as you might expect from me writing stories for Web sites – but it isn’t just computers, I also do the lighting for our local amateur drama group. And that is how the following encounter came about.

It was actually our kids’ show for Christmas. It had a big cast, so some of them I hadn’t seen before, including Julie. She was a knock out! Made up for the show she was a hag (she was playing a witch), but when the grease paint came off, she was a real looker. In her early twenties, she had shoulder-length dark hair, deep brown eyes, a slim, but not skinny body, with small, but eager breasts and a bum you just itched to grab! At that stage I didn’t know about her legs – in costume she wore some revolting stripy knitted tights, and out of costume she wore jeans. Neither outfit gave an audience the chance to appreciate her lovely legs. I only saw them later.

As I said, I hadn’t seen her before. It was Cath that I knew, and who I sometimes gave a lift home after shows. Her husband was also involved with back-stage work. She was fun and he was a great guy and we’d visited each other a number of times: had meals out and in, or just met up for a drink and a chat. But this story isn’t about Cath, or Bill. It just happened that Cath did know Julie. So it was quite natural for Cath to ask if I could drop Julie off as well when I was giving Cath her lift.

The first stage came because I’m a bit of a piss-artist. I’m not ugly, but I find it definitely helps to give women something to laugh at, so I do the gallantry bit. You know, kissing hands, opening the car door and bowing low. All that sort of stuff. It gives them – and me – a bit of a giggle, and, believe me, getting women laughing does no harm at all. Especially if it’s about something flirtatious! It doesn’t actually turn them on immediately, but they do seem to drop their automatic defences. You’ve got started before they remember to put those up.

So, you can imagine the scene: after each performance I took Cath home, and dropped Julie off on the way. I did my thing, with the deep bows and so on and Julie vanished into her home with a smile on her face.

Anyway, the week passed and we got to the last night. I don’t know if you have had anything to do with show biz, but whether you are talking amateurs or pros, it is traditional to have a party on the last night. This show was no exception. After the curtain comes down on the final bows, the actors (don’t call them actresses these days) gather up their makeup, return their costumes to the wardrobe mistress and so on, while the techies dismantle their kit, stage hands strike the set and store it until the next show, and so on, and then it’s down to the bar.

For the next hour, the audience – at least those who know people in the show – tell the actors how wonderful they’ve been, and then they go home. The folk in the company have all had a drink or two by that time, so everyone is getting relaxed, and then the party gets going. We usually have something to eat and plenty to drink, but there are often silly games as well.

I don’t know if you’ve ever played it, but there is this game where everyone sits round in a ring. You start with a tall cardboard box and everyone in turn has to pick it up with their teeth. If you can’t bend far enough to pick it up, you drop out. You aren’t allowed to use your hands at all: not to pick up the box, or to keep your balance. Only feet are allowed to touch the floor. After everyone has had a go, the top of the box is cut off (so you have to bend farther) and you go round again. If there are people flexible enough, you eventually end up with the box cut down to just its base – a flat piece of card on the floor.

If you think about it – or you’ve played the game yourself, you’ll realise that the game works on two levels (well, three if you count the obvious one of simply winning). On one level, it’s a laugh watching people try to bend further than they’d normally think possible; and often fall on their fannies. On the other level, modesty just ain’t where it’s at; and you get a lovely view of the bodies playing the game – and the ones who last longest are the most supple and desirable.

So there we were playing this game. I’m pretty supple, so I was doing all right, and so was Julie. It was nice to be keeping in the game, but it was even better watching her bend over, legs wide apart, that gorgeous bum in the air and the panty line showing clearly through her jeans, which were stretched skin-tight as she leant over to get the box.

And her sister was just as scrumptious.

Didn’t I mention Fran? No, come to think of it (or should that be cum to think of it?) I didn’t. What I should have told you was that Julie’s sister Fran had come over to see the show. Family solidarity and all that. Like most sisters, there was a lot of teasing, but you could tell that these two had a really good relationship. The teasing was all in good part and each one was giving görükle escort as good as she got.

But back to the story: Fran was a few years younger than Julie, still at university, and, if possible, she was even more luscious. The same brown eyes and dark hair colour, but Fran’s came way down her back. Gorgeous, rippling, deep brown hair that reached almost to her waist. Fran was slightly shorter than Julie, but only by an inch or so. Her waist was just as slender, but her figure was more voluptuous. I’d guess she must have taken a bra at least two sizes larger and her hips and backside were also rounder and more generous. As I said, watching those two bend and stretch for that cardboard box was something to give you dreams for a month (if you have a short memory!)

I was watching with mixed feelings though. Bill had also come to see Cath’s last night – and since he’d brought the car, I expected that they’d take Julie and Fran home. Sure I was getting an eye-full during the game, but I thought that was the last time I’d see these two incredible dishes.

It didn’t turn out that way though. Just after this game, Cath came across and spoke to the sisters, then asked me if I would take Julie (and Fran, of course) home. Cath and Bill were going on to some other do, so wanted to leave, but Julie and Fran were just getting into things.

Now put yourself in my position. Would you have said, “No, I want to go home right now” or would you say, “Sure, I’d love to give them a lift!”… So did I! Well, any red-blooded man would have. Come to that, from what I’ve seen of the gay scene, so would any red-blooded womyn!

Well, that game was over, but we stayed in more or less the same places, with me next to Julie and Fran. I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said that this was coincidence, so I won’t bother. I’ll admit that it was entirely deliberate that I’d sat next to juicy Julie the delectable dish.

Anyway, we spent a while just talking. That was when I discovered that Fran was still at Sunderland University, that she was actually Julie’s sister, not just a friend, and so on. We spent the rest of the party as a threesome: joining in the games; talking; and drinking, though I didn’t have that much since I was driving – just enough to get a gentle buzz.

Perhaps an hour or so later, things started to wind down and Fran said she was ready to go. Julie agreed and asked me if I was ready. Well, I was ready in more ways than one, but I didn’t expect the second way to be more than wishful thinking.

Anyway, we went out to the car and I drove them home. Fran was saying something about being ready for a coffee and when we arrived Julie asked me if I’d like to come in for one too. Now if you think I’d say no, with all due respect, you’re a moron. The show was over, so goodness only knows how long it would be before I saw Julie again, let alone Fran. The party was over too, so unless I said yes to the coffee, all I had to look forward to was solitary pleasures… and I didn’t really want a sprained wrist! Yup, I wanted coffee.

I went through my usual performance, opening the car doors for the ladies and spreading an imaginary cloak over the puddles. Julie had seen it before, of course, so she just grinned, but Fran was taken by surprise. At first she didn’t know what was going on, but she soon started giggling and I kept up the piss-artist routine all the way into the house. We laughed and joked through the coffee making, and drinking, flirting outrageously and teasing each other all the way round the triangle.

However, the best of things come to an end – and so did the coffee. Eventually I decided that I had to leave and so I got up to go. Both Fran and Julie got up too and I went and put one arm round each of them. As usual I gave Julie a kiss – just a peck, then turned to Fran.

I bent towards her and lowered my lips to hers. She lifted her face to mine and we kissed. But this was no peck! Her lips parted and her tongue reached out for mine. In a moment Fran and I were French kissing, with our tongues fencing and reaching into each others mouths… while Julie was still in my other arm! One part of me was embarrassed by this, while the other was turned on something rotten! Kissing Fran, and one of the sexiest kisses I can remember, while her sister was nestling in my other arm!

Time seemed to stop. I could feel Fran’s lips and tongue playing with mine, her body pressed against me on my right, while Julie’s hips pressed against mine on the left. Luckily, that meant my prick was between the two, so its sudden surge didn’t embarrass me… as long as neither of them looked down at the front of my jeans.

After several aeons, I heard Julie’s voice: “Hey! You don’t kiss me like that!”

I reluctantly broke with Fran and turned to Julie.

“Sorry, If you want…”

And then I was kissing Julie! I’d thought I was in heaven kissing Fran with Julie watching, but when it happened the other way eskort bayan round as well…

Several more aeons passed, then we reluctantly broke apart.

“Gosh!” I said, “I thought I was going, but now I want to stay”.

The two sisters looked at each other…


My name is Julie. I’d been in this silly kids’ Christmas play. There was this daft bloke called Pete who’d given me a lift home on the way to drop my mate Cath. He was a right prune! When he pulled up at my house, he’d get out and open the car door for me. Do the whole Sir Walter Raleigh bit with a pretend cloak over non-existent puddles! It seemed a bit silly, but it was a laugh. He was quite nice altogether. Much older than me, but didn’t act that way. Not a tight-arsed sod like most older people, but easy and friendly like friends my age. Mind you, so is my friend Cath, so if he’s a friend of hers it isn’t too surprising.

It was the last night of the play. There was an after-show party and as usual it was good to relax and have a few drinks. We played party games, which was a laugh, and he joined in too. He was good too. It didn’t seem to matter whether it was one of those daft “thinking” games – working out what “crossed” meant, or something physical like that one where you have to pick up a box with your teeth. He wasn’t a show-off, or anything like that, but he just seemed to go with the flow and get there a bit quicker and slicker than most. I can’t remember now whether he actually won any of the games, but he didn’t look prissy, just joined in and kept his end up. Though it was later that I discovered how appropriate that phrase really was…

I’d expected Bill (Cath’s husband) to take us home ’cause he’d come to see the show that night, but it turned out they were going to some other do. I didn’t know the people whose party that was, so when Cath asked Pete to take Fran and I home, it seemed more fun to stay on for a while.

Fran and I eventually had enough and Pete said he was ready to go too, so we went home. When we got there, Fran asked Pete in for a final coffee – cheek, when it was my home – but that’s sisters for you!

Anyway, after we’d had the coffee, Pete got up to go. He’d flirted when he’d driven me home before, so it wasn’t unexpected when he wanted a goodnight kiss. He gave me a quick one, but when he kissed Fran, that was the real thing. It felt odd. He had one arm round each of us (the letch!), and there I was watching this chap snogging the hell out of my sister. I still don’t really know why, but it turned me on something chronic. He had one arm round me and there he was exchanging saliva with my sister, only inches away. I could feel myself getting wet for him and it wasn’t even me he was kissing!

Eventually I complained. “You don’t kiss me like that!” I said. And he said “OK” and then kissed me properly. He had a moustache and beard, which I’m not used to. It wasn’t only his lips and tongue on mine, but this strange tickley sensation too. The fact that Fran was watching was sexy too. The little bitch (I love her dearly) wasn’t going to get more than me from this guy!

I felt myself getting wetter and wetter. Pete certainly knew how to make a kiss mean something! My crotch was pressed against his hip and I couldn’t help rubbing myself against him. I’d felt sleepy before we left the party, but I loved this sexy feeling and I was feeling as hot as I ever remember.

Eventually we broke away. Not far, I just leant back against his arm with my clit still pressed against his hip and I kept it there.

I can’t remember just what he said, but he made it clear that he wanted to stay with me… and Fran.

I looked at my sister. She looked almost as hot as I felt. We had fucked the same guy before, but never at the same time – we’d taken turns and compared notes afterwards. This time though it seemed we both wanted him right now. At that moment I didn’t care: I just wanted my itch scratched! I suppose I’d had a bit more to drink than I really should have, but whatever it was, my inhibitions didn’t seem to be in gear. I could tell from her expression that Fran felt the same, so I nodded; and so did Fran.

Pete pulled me back towards him and started kissing me again. The way he’d pulled us in, he’d swung us back to back. I could feel Fran’s back pressed against mine, her bum rubbing against mine through our jeans. Then he reached out and took my hand and pressed it against Fran’s. It seemed right to entwine our fingers.

Once he’d got me holding hands with my sister, he let go and his hand moved onto my body. It started on my belly, then slowly moved towards my breasts. Then down again and under my tee-shirt and back up once more. With my free hand I reached up and unfastened my bra, feeling Fran’s back and knowing that she knew what I was doing. Hardly had I undone the clasp and removed my hand than I altıparmak escort felt my sister doing the same thing. Pete’s palm cupped my breast and his thumb softly rubbed my nipple. I could feel it grow under his touch, getting hard and sensitive. About then Pete’s lips left mine, but the feeling of his fingers caressing me meant that I didn’t mind – my breasts were glowing as he stroked and gently squeezed on my sensitive tits. After giving my right one a workout that left me panting he moved on to the other, then what seemed like a flick of his wrist lifted up my shirt and his lips fastened themselves to my left nipple. His tongue flicked the sensitive tip and then I felt my breast sucked into his mouth.

The next thing I felt was his hand going to my belt. A quick jerk and he had that undone and he moved to the fastening of my jeans. First the button, then the zip, and his hand was inside, stroking the top of my panties and my belly. I’d never realised before how sensitive the skin on my belly could be. My knees seemed to spread themselves and to lose their strength and I gripped Fran’s hand tightly to stay upright.

Pete’s fingers then moved slowly down my belly, inside my panties and down to my groin. The bastard deliberately made sure that he missed my clit and just stroked the crease of my groin and the top of my leg.

I was beginning to go ballistic when he moved up and away again, but then I felt his hand pushing down my jeans… and my panties too. They were trapped between my bum and Fran’s, of course, but then I felt her shoulders press harder against mine and the pressure of her arse on mine vanished. Our hips moved apart and my jeans were free to be removed. Pete’s hand in front and my free hand behind swiftly sent them towards the floor and I stepped out, one foot at a time.

No sooner was I free from my clothing than Pete’s hand went back to my belly. It pressed me back towards my sister again… and I felt the skin of her backside against mine. The sod had stripped both of us at the same time! Then his fingers slipped down over my bush and between my legs. I felt Fran wriggling against me, then Pete’s voice whispered near my ear, “Can you feel your sister? Just think that what my left hand is doing to Julie, my right hand is doing to Fran.”

While he whispered, his finger pushed between my legs and started stroking the outer lips of my cunt. My legs separated, almost on their own as I moved to let him in, and I felt Fran’s bottom move with mine. That bastard Pete had one hand in my quin and the other in my sister’s!

The bastard’s lips then closed around my nipple at the same time as his knuckle began to stroke my clit and I almost swooned as the sod caressed me. I loved him and how he was making love to my most private and sensual parts. And to my sister, Fran, at the same time, in the same way. I gripped her hand – and felt her squeezing mine – as we started to cum for the first time.


I’m Francesca, Fran for short. My big Sis, Jules, was in this kids’ play for Christmas, so, of course, I had to go and see her. She’s daft about the stage, but it’s ever so cute really – if she’s smitten about acting, I suppose I’m smitten about her. Of course we both take the mickey, but I love her so much.

After the play was over they had a party in the theatre bar: silly games and lots to drink. I’m glad about the drink, because if it hadn’t been for that, I don’t think I’d have had the nerve…

Julie’s friend Cath and her husband were supposed to take us home, but they pissed off out of it to go somewhere else and left us with some guy called Pete. Well actually he wasn’t so bad, in fact he was pretty cool as it turned out. Especially for someone so old – I think he must have been way over forty, maybe even over fifty. What the hell, he was the catalyst!

After the party he took us back to Julie’s place. He came in for coffee.

When he got up to go, he kissed us both goodnight. Actually he was quite a kisser. After the drink at the party I was pretty relaxed (I’ve heard that newts get that relaxed sometimes!) Well, maybe not quite that bad, but enough to open up both sides of the bi- in me. As I say he was pretty cool, so after he’d kissed Julie, I though I’d show her how it was really done and I gave him a good 90%.

It worked! That sister of mine got all jealous and wanted another go at him herself.

It was really exciting watching her kiss him. I knew I could kiss her even better than he was doing, but that just says how well I can kiss – Pete was pretty wicked himself!

Then he wanted to know whether he should go or stay…

Jules looked at me and I could tell that she was up for it. I did a quick sum in my head and worked out that if I said yes, then I could share her with him, so I gave her the nod.

Like I said, I’m bi. Girlz are what really do it for me, but guys are far from a turnoff, and this guy, Pete, wasn’t bad: at least he had a sense of humour and didn’t take himself too seriously. He was pretty ancient, but didn’t behave that way. If I couldn’t have a girl, then he was fine – and it looked as if I might not just get him but a girl too… and the best one of all, my sis, Jules. So of course I did nod.

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