The Roles We Play: An Erotic Short (The Classics Collection)

by Trina Rossi

  Mark slid under the sheets with me. He leaned in and kissed my mouth, and then I moved down to get my lips on Jack’s cock. Looking up, I could see his lips curl into a grin and wondered how he felt about having a man in bed with us. It wasn’t long before he shot his cum, and I was prepared. I’d bared my breasts, again wondering what the audience could see, again thinking of the imaginary man in the balcony with his powerful opera glasses, and let him shoot his cream all over them. I rubbed it into my nipples and licked my fingers. Jack looked delighted, and leaned in to suck his juices off me. Mark watched, looking ecstatic. I wished I had time to spend on his body.

  “I’m sorry, Mark,” I whispered. “Looks like our scene’s over.”

  “You’ll get me next time,” he smiled as he crept away stealthily.

  There wouldn’t be a next time, it turned out. The show, which was to run a few more days, ended abruptly when the two main actors ran off together. The theater company hadn’t thought understudies were necessary so there was no way to put on the play. I thought of suggesting that Jack and I just have sex on stage, but realized that I was probably already treading on thin ice with the director.

  Jack came up to me at the theater as I was gathering my things the day after our last show together.

  “It’s been fun,” he said casually.

  I found myself a little irritated, but it only took a second to get over it. After all, we weren’t even really friends.

  “It has,” I replied. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

  “There are auditions next week, you know, for the next show.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s it about?”

  “Not sure. Something to do with a mattress salesman, I think.”

  I laughed. “Works for me. See you at the audition?”

  “I’m sure you will. Wear something silky, would you?”

  “You know it, Jack.”

  With that, he turned and left.

  I did the audition. I won it, too. I haven’t yet heard who the male lead is, but I’m fairly confident that if it’s Jack, we’ll find a way to convince the director to put us under some sheets.

  Also by Trina Rossi:

  Private Lessons

  Art Class

  My Professor

  Choreograph Me