Thursday, June 25, 2020

DRAMA CLUB – The Coach (Part 3 of 3 Parts) blog post #395

Let me get another little matter out of the way before we start on the Drama Club. I finished my 7th BJ Vinson mystery a couple of weeks ago—The Cutie-Pie Murders. Needs one final read-through before submitting to Dreamspinner Press. Wish me luck.

Now back to the Drama Club. Jarrod’s punishment for getting lost cost him the mattress he had in the loft. Of course, that didn’t stop Bobby from coming around for a second helping. I don’t know about you, but I sense an increasing awareness of Thad Reid the drama coach on Jarrod’s part. Wonder what happens this week.



Jarrod was impressed by Mr. Reid’s audition technique. He not only had the actors read, he had them do some business like, walking to a table and picking up a book or opening a door that was set up in the middle of the stage.
On Friday, Jarrod left his loft early, thinking he’d take in a movie in town. He descended his rope to find Mr. Reid sitting on the edge of the stage watching him. The man had a sheaf of notes from the try-outs in his hand.
“You do that quite well,” the coach said, nodding at the rope.
“Been doing it for three years.”
“It’s helped develop your body,” the man noted approvingly.
Jarrod blushed. The word “body” held a sexual connotation for him.
“Making the final casting selections,” the coach went on. “Have you seen the set designs?” Jarrod nodded. “Can I have a tentative lighting schematic next week?” Jarrod nodded again. “Good.” Coach Reid placed a hand at his back and stretched. “It’s been a trying week. If you still had that mattress, I’d be tempted to sleep here tonight. Probably too tired to climb your rope though.”
“There’s a ladder. And an elevator, too, if you’re that feeble.” Jarrod couldn’t believe he was joking with the man.
Thad Reid looked at him sharply. “What’s your fastest time up the rope?”
“Dunno. Never timed myself.”
“You go up, and I’ll time you”
When Jarrod stepped onto the loft, he looked down, Reid looked up from his wristwatch.
Twenty seconds. All right you time me. Now!”
“Twenty-two.” Jarrod crowed as the man came over the edge.
“Two seconds? You got me by two seconds? Don’t believe it. Your watch has to be wrong!” He insisted on comparing second hands, and Jarrod was keenly aware that they stood with their forearms touching. “Aha! You hit the half-minute mark a second behind mine.
“Okay,” Jarrod conceded, “I only beat you by one second.”
“Mattress still missing, I see,” the coach said looking around.
“Some hard-ass made me lose it,” Jarrod tried to keep the mood light.
“I’ll have to sleep at home because of some hard-ass, I guess,” Thad Reid smiled at Jarrod, almost melting him where he stood.
“It’s in the back. I can get it in five seconds flat.”
“Just kidding, Jarrod.”
“No, really!” he protested, moving swiftly down the catwalk. He halfway expected the coach to be gone when he came dragging the thing back with him. Reid wasn’t. He was standing in the middle of the loft, hands on hips, watching quietly. “Here. See, here it is,” Jarrod stammered, dropping it into place on the floor.
“Do you really spend some nights here?” the man asked.
“Were you going to stay tonight?”
“Yes. Going to get something to eat, then coming back.” Jarrod looked around the place and felt compelled to explain. “Sometimes it feels more like home than the dorm.”
Reid smiled. “That’s a bad sign. It means you have the theater in your blood. And to a special few, that’s more home than home.”
Jarrod swallowed hard. “But you can have it tonight. Or…” He shrugged.
“Sheets? Blankets?” the coach asked. Jarrod scampered to get them and spread the mattress. Jarrod gawked when the man shucked his shirt and trousers. The white jockeys glowed against his dark skin in the semi-darkness.
“D-do you want me to leave?” Jarrod asked around a thick tongue.
“Only if you want to. But tell me I’m not making a mistake, Jarrod.”
“No…no, no mistake. I wouldn’t do anything to…well, hurt you, Mr….uh.”
 “Thad. In private, it’s Thad.
Jarrod shivered in the throes of a delightful tingle. “Why me, Thad?”
“Because you’re the sexiest young man I’ve seen this side of the Mississippi. You’re real, not phony. Your good looks aren’t pretty-boy handsome. Because you’ve got a body that probably needs to be naked to be fully appreciated. And because despite the mattress and what I saw happening on it the other day, I don’t believe you’re promiscuous.”
Jarrod swallowed hard. Nobody had ever described him like that before.
“Now either undress and come to bed or go home,” Thad said, sliding the shorts over his thighs.
Galvanized into action, Jarrod ripped off his clothes with his eyes glued to the coach.
“Turn around,” Thad said when Jarrod stood naked. “Nice,” he breathed. “Very nice. I don’t know what your experience has been, Jarrod, but we’re going to pretend this is the first time. Come here.”
As if in a dream, Jarrod walked to him. The man’s strong arms went around him, drawing him close. Firm muscles. Silken flesh. the hair on Thad’s chest. They all left him woozy. When Thad kissed him, long, sable lashes brushed Jarrod’s cheek, sending an electric charge straight to his groin. Before it was over, Jarrod’s knees threatened to give way. When Thad knelt before him, they almost did. Nobody had done such a thing for him since Kahn some two years back. He almost lost it like a kid on his first time. He couldn’t help himself. He came! When the orgasm hit, Jarrod collapsed on the mattress.
“How was that?” Thad asked, lying beside him.
“Wo…wonderful!” Jarrod responded, fighting for breath.
“You’re a handsome, sexy man, Jarrod. I’ve wondered what that would be like since I first saw you. When I saw you and the Lyles kid, I knew I had to have you. I made up my mind then. Has Bobby been back?”
“Once. But I won’t anymore.”
“It’s okay, Jarrod,” Thad said, turning to him. “We’ll have to work out things as we go. Right now….”
“It’s my turn. Jarrod pushed the man flat on the mattress and played in the light mat of hair, devoting time to the brown nipples until Thad laughingly complained his chest was sore. Then Jarrod moved on down the long torso to his lover’s core. Before long, the drama coach spasmed.
They leaned back on the mattress and sighed in unison. “That was great, Jarrod. You’re good.”
“So’re you. What… what do we do now?”
Thad looked at him. His teeth glowed in the semidarkness as he smiled. “Oh, we’re not finished yet. Not by a long shot.”
Jarrod’s sphincter twitched at the words. A wave of emotion wracked him as he imagined all that Thad’s words implied.

So finally, Jarrod gets his macho drama coach. Or was it the other way round? Thad Reid got Jarrod Gray? Depends upon your viewpoint, right?

Until next week.

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