[Author's Note: This story, along with its companion work, "Swimming With Sharks," is about a scam that has been discussed on internet forums in the past year or so. Your feedback is welcome.]
The war for American independence did not officially conclude until September 3, 1783 with the signing of the Treaty of Paris. Among other things, the agreement established formal borders for the newly independent United States.
By treaty, those boundaries traversed "the northwesternmost head of Connecticut River; thence down along the middle of that river to the forty-fifth degree of north latitude..."
On the western bank of the mouth of the Connecticut lies Old Saybrook, long time home of academy award winning actress Kathryn Hepburn. Across the river is Olde Lyme.
Whatever international reputation that tidy little community enjoys is owed to a flu-like disease spread by deer ticks first identified there and bears the appellation "Lyme disease."
Locally, however, Olde Lyme is more enviably known for its artists' communities.
THE OLDE LYME PLAYERS
Olde Lyme is home to a small theater troupe whose home is fashioned from an old barn. The theater is rather uncreatively named the Olde Lyme Playhouse, and the troupe, non-coincidentally, the Olde Lyme Players.
Informally, long time members sometimes affectionately refer to themselves as the LFs. "Loot Fighters" was first uttered, years ago by a female member famous for her verbal dyslexia.
Once, this quotable quasi-Yogi Berra combined, "I wouldn't do that in a million years" with "I wouldn't do that for a million dollars" yielding the scrumptious maxim "I wouldn't do that in a million dollars."
Backstage at the barn-cum-theater is a dressing room door where someone painted a pile of currency and the sentence: "Things I wouldn't do in a million dollars,"
Beneath are scrawled responses from visitors and troupe members alike. Contributions range from the gross [Take a crap] to the puzzling [Call my husband] to the consensus [Start a fire].
Two couples supplied the dynamo for this happy troupe. Bruce is married to Barbara who is called Bobbi. He is a Certified Public Accountant without a molecule of artistic DNA. His primary functions are first, to keep the company's books and second, as assistant stage hand/gopher on productions.
Danny is married to Edith, a supporting actress of some renown in summer stock circles in her youth. Danny owns a printing business and produces some first-rate graphics work for clients and the troupe.
Known (mostly) jokingly as "EatIt" for sexual rather than culinary reasons, Edith more often than not handled the leading female role in troupe productions.
Edith had been quite wild in the hippie days of the late sixties and early seventies, living for a while in San Francisco and on a Colorado commune whose primary, if not sole purpose was the practice and perfection of free love.
At 52, Edith is a pretty, shapely, tending-toward-buxom blonde. She still has the body, and when properly made up, the face of a woman of 30.
Bobbi is also 52. Her tits are even larger than Edith's. She is more beautiful than pretty and easily Edith's equivalent in youthful appearance. Her naturally mousy brown hair is now kept a hot flaming red on a weekly basis.
Briefly a student at the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design, Barbara was awarded the well-deserved appellation "Bobbi Body" by the masculine element at RISD (pronounced "Riss Dee") as the school is known in the art world.
In truth, the females also agreed. A gorgeous, top-heavy, blue-eyed (bleached) blonde, there was a brief, but unsuccessful attempt by some admirers to affix the moniker "Barbie" after the doll with the famous figure began to permeate the popular culture.
Leaving RISD for a marriage brought on by a pregnancy scare, Bobbi eventually divorced and drifted to northern California in its counter cultural heyday. She also spent some time on a commune practicing "flower power" polyamory at least as ardently as had Edith.
Briefly taking work in the fledgling adult movie industry, Bobbi was featured in a couple of the 8mm silent reels that were played in booths at "peep shows" across America.
For a short time she worked as a fluffer where she met the famous black actor Johnnie Keyes. Keys was filming the hugely (by adult industry standards) successful, "Behind the Green Door," also starring Ivory Snow beauty Marilyn Chambers.
Bobbi made sure he was fully ready for his scenes and, once, Johnnie invited her back to his home for a weekend of unabated debauchery. At the time, Bobbi believed she'd never find a cock the likes of Keyes' again.
A lifetime member of the United Scenic Artists guild, Bobbi made what little money she needed by painting scenery for most of San Francisco's legitimate theaters. Later, she even worked on Broadway.
Today, she was steadily employed in companies like the Shubert Theater in New Haven, the Goodspeed Opera House in East Haddam, and the Eugene O'Neill Theater in Waterford.
That Bobbi and Edith would be anything but close friends given the many parallels of their lives would have been remarkable. Edith was in her third marriage, Danny his first. It was the second marriage for both Bruce and Bobbi.
YOU ALWAYS WERE A SLUT
The Olde Lyme Players, or more specifically Bobbi and Bruce, were first introduced to Colin in Camden, Maine where he was working with another company not unlike their semi-professional troupe.
Bobbi kept in touch with a member of the Camden company, an old friend from her Haight-Ashbury days as wild and uninhibited as Bobbi herself.
Visiting Maine, Bobbi and Bruce met the dynamic young director from England. Handsome is a rugged sort of way, Colin stood about six-one and spoke in that clipped British accent American women have so much trouble saying no to. His penetrating blue eyes and ripped body made more than one older woman drool from multiple orifices.
Bobbi's friend Janice simply raved and raved about Colin irritating Bruce but enflaming Bobbi. Even Janice's husband, Jerry, had praise for how rejuvenated Janice had become since rehearsals had started.
Privately, Janice told Bobbi there was a nude scene in the play Colin had presented to the group for production and that he'd seen her naked in rehearsals.
"My god, are you crazy?" Bobbi asked.
"Jerry thinks so," Janice smiled, "but he didn't get a vote. Actually, it's the most exciting thing I've done in years. I can't seem to keep my hand out of my panties after rehearsal."
"You always were a slut," Bobbi laughed.
"Me?" Janice countered. "Hey, you want to watch tomorrow?"
It had been more than 25 years since Bobbi and Janice had cavorted naked on the California coast. Perhaps it was only natural that Bobbi wonder what affects age had had on her old friend.
"Do you think Colin will mind?"
"It'll be fine. He loves an audience."
In the deserted theater, Bobbi sat in the first row of seats as Colin explained the scene to Janice.
"Before you strip, I want the audience to know you're hot for this young stud."
"OK," replied Janice showing not a hint of understanding as to how she should show that.
"That little spaghetti strap thing you're wearing is great, nice and thin but I need your nipples to stand out. First thing you need to do is get rid of that bra."
Janice reached behind her and under her shirt unhooking the bra. Then she pulled it off through the sleeves.
"Much better," said Colin. "Now, can you get them hard? I'd hate to ruin the natural look by using some device with fake nipples. Plus, getting something like that off gracefully is much more challenging than just sliding the shirt over you head."
Janice ran her fingers lightly over the front of her shirt causing her nipples to harden.
"Better," said Colin closely inspecting each tit, "but you've got great tits Janice. I knew you were perfect for this part the moment I laid eyes on you. I need those nipples to POP. We could ice them down before you come out I suppose. Wait, let me try this."
Bobbi winced in shuddering pleasure as Colin grabbed a nipple between the index finger and thumb of each hand and twisted and pinched. She saw Janice's knees buckle momentarily.
Her friend's low, plaintive moan of sexual need made her own clit throb wildly. Bobbi's pussy juiced as she saw the nipples poke out like huge erasers under the thin cotton.
"That's what I mean!" Colin exclaimed, proudly admiring his work. "Think you can do that for opening night he asked his star?" Janice was speechless, her eyes closed. "OK, we can work on it."
Janice stripped naked on the stage moving as Colin instructed. At one point, he brushed his forefinger up and down against Janice's bush.
"I thought we agreed you'd clean that off?"
"I know, I just need to get Jerry in the right mood to tell him first. I promise, by Monday it will be bare."
"Listen ladies," Colin announced looking at his watch, "I've got to run. Lance is due in at the airport in Portland and I've got to dash."
Before leaving Camden, Bobbi gave Colin her cell phone number and literally begged him to call her when he was finished in Maine. She desperately wanted him to direct the Olde Lyme Players.
Colin made and kept that promise.
THE PRETTIEST THING IN THIS CAR IS RIGHT HERE
Colin's good-natured bragging and name-dropping, delivered in his delicious British clip, both shocked and delighted the Connecticut troupe. He proposed they perform a script loosely associated with Tennessee Williams' steamy play, "The Long Hot Summer" about a hot, young hustler, Ben Quick, wooing the spinster daughter of a town's richest family.
Before Ben arrives in Frenchman's Bend, he is 'in the company of' a fading, but well-to-do actress named Nora, Colin told everyone. Ben is, to be blunt, a kept man, a gigolo.
It is this relationship, not exploited in either film or stage play versions of Williams' work that Colin wants the Olde Lyme Players to explore.
In fact, Colin had already written an original screenplay. There would be some nudity he warned everyone, and some simulated sex. Were they OK with that?
Everyone looked at Edith whom they supposed would play the actress whom they supposed would be flashing some tit.
"I'm OK if Danny is." Everyone looked at Danny.
"She's got beautiful tits," Danny grinned. Blood flow increased to every genitalia in the room, male and female.
"It'll be more than just your tits," Colin warned, "but we'll do it tastefully. We're also going to need a second actress. I was thinking of Bobbi. How bout it?"
Bruce felt himself blushing but the blood wasn't just rushing to his face. A blushing hard-on he thought. Could that be dangerous? Medically? The excitement of his wife appearing naked in public caused a pleasurable condition that meant now wouldn't be a good time for him to leap up in protest.
"Actually, I think I'd love to do it," she replied, smiling broadly. Ever since she'd seen her friend Janice naked, with Colin's hands on her, Bobbi had been secretly manipulating everyone and everything she could think of to get to this moment. She added quickly, "That is if Bruce approves."
"Well, honey," Bruce began, "we're supposed to be avant garde, aren't we? The nudity should be, well...stimulating, but what about the sex? You did say simulated, right Colin?"
"Yes, of course simulated. By the way, only Edith will be nude, not you Bobbi."
"What sort of sex..." Bobbi's voice trailed off when she realized what she'd be doing.
"Right," Colin continued, "your character will be giving Ben Quick a blowjob. Uh...simulated blowjob. All your clothes will remain on. Perhaps a read through of the script is in order. I think everyone will have a clearer picture of what's involved after that."
Colin handed Edith and Bobbi script books.
Edith, you're Nora, and you're the motel owner's wife, Bobbi. I'll read Ben Quick. Oh, I can do the motel owner as well."
"Owner's wife?" asked Bobbi petulantly when she saw the script. "Don't I even get a name?"
"Your name is never uttered. I never saw the need for naming your character. Pick out one yourself if it will make you happy."
"I'll need a writer's credit if I do that," Bobbi joked. "OK, owner's wife it is."
As the trio read and Colin filled in situational details, the troupe learned that they would be staging little more than a pornographic tragedy about two older women unable to contain either their lust for hard, young cock or their jealousy when they find themselves competing for the same stud.
The play begins with Nora and Ben in a car, a convertible. As they cruise a dreary southern back road, Nora vamps for Ben trying to get him to feed her vanity by telling her how beautiful and desirable she is despite her age.
Ben speaks cruelly to her telling her she is merely a passing amusement until something better, read younger, comes along. Nora/Edith briefly flashes her bare breast in attempted temptation. This provokes Ben to grab his crotch and declare, "The prettiest thing in this car is right here."
The act concludes with Ben exposing his cock and forcing Nora to suck him off, only to hit the back of her head on the lower dash as Ben slams on the brakes skidding into a deserted motel parking lot.
They remain in the car until Nora extracts Ben's orgasm despite the motel owner's wife's callings from the office doorway. Do they want a room? Is something wrong? Are they coming in to register or not.
Act Two has a humiliated Nora, lipstick smudged, dickering over an inflated room rate with the owner of an empty motel determined to make a month's profit from the people in the brand new Cadillac convertible.
Meanwhile, Ben saunters in with half a hard-on outlined at the front of his tight jeans and what appears to be red stains the color of Nora's smudged mouth all over the fly.
The owner's big-haired wife, dressed like a honky-tonk trollop in too high heels and too short skirt cannot pry her eyes off that blue jean covered cock.
Much to the owner's consternation, she flashes white panties under a black skirt hoping to entice a growth spurt into the half phallus, while daydreaming it was her own lipstick coating that hot dick instead of that of the brash, brassy, bleached blonde negotiating with her husband.
The last act takes place in one of the dingy rooms of the dingy hospice. Nora and Ben argue about the degree to which the owner's wife is a slut until Ben rips off Nora's clothes and takes her to bed. Their coitus is "interruptus" however, when the meddling wife uses her passkey to deliver some unexpected room linens.
Ben orders Nora out to get him a bottle of whiskey and she is again humiliated by having to dress in front of the wife. Ben lounges in bed with nothing but a threadbare sheet covering an obvious erection. With Nora gone, Ben commands the wife to fellate him, a task to which she eagerly falls.
Nora returns unexpectedly to find Ben feeding his cock to the voracious woman. Both stop to stare at Nora but the wife quickly resumes her oral service as if to taunt the actress and Nora retreats from the room.
Returning several minutes later with the convertible's tire iron, Nora finds Ben's cock slit drooling post ejaculatory liquid onto the carpet while the wife savors the seminal treat the young stallion has just delivered.
Nora strikes the wife a fatal blow.
Asking Ben what she should do now, the rapidly re-robing cock-for-hire tells her to wait in the room. Exiting through the door, the curtain comes down to the sounds of spinning tires and flying gravel as Ben floors the powerful car and hurtles down the highway to Frenchman's Bend.
After a suitable pause for everyone to catch their breaths, Edith got right down to brass tacks.
"So I have to simulate both fellatio and intercourse. I also have to appear naked? How in the world are we going to offer this play to the public?"
"Let's get into rehearsals," offered Colin. "Once we get the sets and positions, we'll see what the audience can see. We'll have some opportunities for subtlety with character positioning and set placement. Nipples and pussy can be faced away from an audience."
"But what about Ben?" Bobbi asked. "Is he actually going to have an erection?"
"Again, let's see how this plays in rehearsals. There may be props we can use. It really depends on who plays Ben. Does anyone have any ideas?"
As the women in the group began a heated debate over who might play the male lead, Colin was secretly ecstatic. There wasn't the slightest peep about the play's blatant pornographic content.
Experience had taught Colin that the secret to getting troupes like the one in Olde Lyme to go along was wooing the most attractive female member, a role to which he was aptly suited.
The women of these troupes, the attractive ones, anyway, were exhibitionists either by nature or by desire. Colin knew that getting to them when they were older, when they knew they were past their prime yet still desirable played on their fears of regret of missed opportunities.
He offered, in a practiced but fake British clip learned from con men on the streets and in the pool halls of Toledo, Ohio, one last opportunity to tease the males that years before would leer and fumble over them.
Younger men that earlier would have been fooled with and jerked around suddenly became desirable hunks of the first order.
The chance to play the slut opposite some good-looking stud under the auspices of legitimate theater was simply a role few suburban actress/wives had the strength of character to decline.
Protestations of paunchy spouses were never much of a hurdle for such wives once they were convinced the role was the equivalent of a lurid Lady MacBeth.
Their own delusions of a missed career as a combination Vanessa Redgrave/Pamela Anderson made Colin's sales pitch almost too easy.
Edith and Bobbi were now extolling the studly attributes of a University of Connecticut student named Mick. Even Danny, Bruce, and some of the other men had opinions. It almost as if they too wanted to re-live youthful fantasies through the eager actions of a handsome twenty-one year old.
Mick was a drama student on the Storrs campus when he met Bobbi the summer after his freshman year. He was a good-looking kid working as a stagehand at the Goodspeed where she was designing sets.
They formed a warm, non-sexual relationship. Later, when the Olde Lyme group needed a young actor, Bobbi called him.
Interestingly, he played a minor role opposite her that called for them to share a kiss. They had practiced far more than the part required getting into some heavy frenching sessions in secluded areas of the old barn.
Although they never went any further than kissing, Bobbi often found herself sopping wet afterward. On more than one occasion she was pretty sure Mick had gotten hard and that thrilled her. She could still masturbate thinking about those make-out sessions.
Now, she found herself getting aroused again at the thought of performing simulated fellatio with the sweet-but-hot young man. What might those practice sessions be like she wondered. The thought of being on stage with just a sheet covering his erection sent little bolts of excitement zinging across her nerves in a triangular pattern from nipples to clit to anus, and back again.
She knew her hardened nipples could be seen through the tee shirt she wore but she didn't care. Even Bruce giving her his "look" when he saw the pointy evidence couldn't dampen her enthusiasm.
Rehearsals began with Colin temporarily filling in as Ben Quick. "Foggy" Jenkins, husband to one of the troupe regulars accepted the role of the motel owner.
Colin loved his voice that did indeed sound like a foghorn. Attired in grungy khakis and filthy "wife-beater" tee shirt, his short, paunchy form was the picture of a fifty something, down-and-out proprietor of a dead-end establishment.
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