Actors : by (c) Lady Joyce Hamilton Mm I know everyone remembers his first time. I was a strange boy, introspective and secretive. And yet I was a good-looking lad. I have that photograph on the screen in front of me now, on the beach in my white underpants. It shows a lad not tall, but quite well built. Not yet at all muscular, I was after all only thirteen that summer, but certainly neither skinny nor plump. It was a period when men wore their hair long, in imitation of the pop stars of the time, and mine was nearly down to my shoulders, dark black and rather wind-blown. That hair, my deep dark eyes, my full lips and customary sulky expression made me look not only handsome but sexy. I stood facing the camera, my head turned slightly to profile, my eyes looking out to the sea beyond. I was tanned and the white of my underpants made a contrast with my bronzed skin. I had no real friends, either male or female. My classmates, all boys as I went to a single sex school, were beginning to talk about their real or imagined experiences with girls. That seemed to be a hopelessly remote possibility for me. For a couple of years I had been clipping corset advertisements out of the womens magazines my mother discarded, and using them for masturbating. So I certainly have a heterosexual streak somewhere in me. Sometimes my fantasies at night in bed would involve men from a body-building magazine I had found, so I had a homosexual side too. Occasionally my imagination would dress one of those men in the corsets, and that was probably my favourite even then. A solitary boy, my passion was bird-watching, an excuse for countless hours by myself. That important morning I got on my bicycle and rode over to Juggs Strand, where a two-mile long shelf of pebbles separated the sea from a lagoon. It was a great place for watching birds. There was even then a wooden hide, and I was disappointed to find it already occupied. But I entered in any case. 'Morning. Nothing very exciting today. Pair of pochards diving over there towards the old jetty.' I took out my bins and could see them. I looked at the guy with his telescope. He was not much taller than me, but quite old. At least twenty-five, I thought, an old guy(!) It was strange, he had ragged old denim shorts and t-shirt, but his hands were immaculate, manicured. I could not help noticing how fine and long his fingers were, how shaped and clean his nails. His hair was long even by the standards of that time, and tied in a blonde pony-tail down to his shoulders. The same blonde hair, short and curly, made his strong legs look very sexy to me, almost like some of my secret photos. My favourite pictures were of men with no hair on their chests, but golden, furry hair on their thighs and calves. We watched the birds in silence for at least half an hour. 'Half term holiday?' 'Yes. Till next Monday. You on holiday?' 'I'm an actor, at The Arts Theatre, so I get most of the day off unless we've got a matinee or are rehearsing.' 'You're doing Hamlet at the moment.' 'Yes. I play the ghost and a couple of other parts too.' 'I like to act, at school. We're rehearsing Twelfth Night.' 'Who are you playing?' I blushed. 'Viola. They always make me play the girls.' 'Big part. Have you learned it?' 'Oh yes. I learn lines very quickly. I know them inside out already and it's still two months away.' 'I do too. You have to! Care for a look through my telescope. There's a couple of grebes performing well.' As I looked through the eyepiece he held my hand, the first time he touched me. I felt a frisson, which surprised me. 'If you need to fine-tune it, it's there.' He held my hand over the small wheel, and for a second or two longer than he really needed to. 'It's much clearer. I must get one of these.' 'I'm going to have lunch now. Care to share it? I've got far too many cheese sandwiches, and my flask has got two cups.' I was beginning to feel hungry and thirsty and had brought nothing myself. And I found I was attracted to this well-spoken and obviously well-educated man. He was handsome too! 'May I? Just a bite, please.' 'I like to go down to the beach, have a break. It's a bit gloomy in here.' He folded up his telescope and picked up a scruffy green canvas bag, and I followed him the short stroll up the bank of the mere, over the scrub at the top, and down to the shingle beach. We chose a place where the pebbles were not too big to be uncomfortable, or so small they would get into everything, and sat down. You could see a mile in each direction, and this Tuesday it was completely deserted. 'My name's Ralph.' 'I'm Cecil.' We shook hands. He stood up and pulled his t-shirt over his head. His chest was bare of all hair, but nicely muscular. Then he slipped his sandals off and undid the button on his shorts. They fell to his ankles and he kicked them aside. I knew his legs were good, but so was his butt. He was wearing garish union-jack underpants, made from some silky fabric, so they were very tight indeed. I could see he had a hard, muscular little arse, and there was a nice- looking bulge at the front. 'Come on. Get some sun on you.' I took off my shirt and shorts, and lay on the shingle in my y-fronts. I had two of his sandwiches and a cup of tea. We chatted about acting, and bird-watching. I've a camera here. Would you take a couple of me, please Cecil. And then I'll take some of you. They were polaroids, and he gave two to me, one of each of us and kept two himself. Later I transferred them to digital, and looking at the pic of Ralph on the screen in front of me as I write this brings it all back. We were laying on the beach, on our sides, facing each other. I could not keep my eyes off that bulge, so clear under the silky fabric. As I watched I could see it swelling, until the hard outline of the straight shaft and rounded knob could be seen, bent down under him, trapped by the tight trunks. I thought it must be painful to have it confined like that. I could feel my own cock getting hard, and absent-mindedly stuck my hand in my pants to lift it so it was straight up against my belly. 'If I did that it would stick out the top.' But he did it all the same, and the pink knob of his cock peeped out of the top of his slip. I looked at it, entranced. I had never seen anything so exciting, so beautiful, so mysterious. My own cock was throbbing and twitching. I gazed at it entranced. He laughed. 'You can feel it if you want. It won't mind!' I reached out, and as my hand touched his pants he placed his on top of it, pressing down so I was encouraged to grasp him. I rubbed it gently. Now my hand was grasping it firmly he removed his and I felt it resting on my thigh, nearly on my hip. 'I can't believe I'm doing this.' 'Kiss it, Cecil, kiss it for me.' The knob was poking out of the top of his pants. I could see the shape of his shaft and balls so clearly. There was a little drop of liquid in the eye of his knob, and when I pursed my lips to kiss him there it stuck to my lip. I felt the shape of his balls with the palm of my hand. 'Pull my pants down and you can see the whole of it. I know you want to.' This was too marvellous to be true. I pulled his skimpy pants down over his thighs and his cock scarcely moved. It was so powerfully erect it stood nearly vertical, parallel with his flat belly. He might have had no chest hair but round his cock was a mass of golden hair, a deeper reddish-gold than his pony-tail. As I looked in awe at his cock, which must have been twice as long as my own boyish four inches, and more than twice as broad, it twitched and another, larger drop of clear liquid appeared in its eye. This was wonderful and mysterious to me as, although for nearly a year I had been producing cum when I jerked off I did not yet make any precum. I thought it looked like a teardrop, and bent over him to kiss it: only this time, on an impulse, I took the whole of his knob between my lips. He groaned in pleasure. But almost as soon as I had tasted cock for the first time, he had pulled from my mouth, and was feeling inside my y-fronts. I felt his hand on my cock, and then he was pulling them down. His own pants landed on the shingle next to mine and we were naked. He leaned over me, and the whole of my cock was in his mouth. I could feel his chin and lips touching my pubic hair, and I knew he had managed to get my whole cock inside. The feeling was delicious and I thought I would come. I held his head between my two hands, feeling his fine blonde hair round and between my fingers. But he took his mouth away, and reached for his battered canvas bag. I watched as he squeezed from a tube, and put the jelly into the crease of his arse. 'Put some of this on your cock, Cecil.' 'You want me to stick it in you? In your bottom?' I was doing as he instructed, and my cock glistened as I spread grease over it. I ran my hand up and down the shaft, but stopped because I was afraid of coming. 'I want that more than anything.' He knelt on the shingle, his head on his hands, his arse in the air. I knelt behind him: he had the same golden hair round his arsehole, but finer. It glistened where he had put the lubricant. Entering him was easy. Luckily I found the correct angle immediately, and with a shove, my knob was inside. 'Gentle, boy! Firm, but gentle.' I find it difficult to describe how good that first moment felt, as my thighs rested against his bottom and my cock was deep inside him. His arse gripped it, relaxed, and gripped again. I felt as if it was enfolded in warmth. I stroked his bottom and the small of his back: he was lean and muscular there. 'That's good. Oh yes! That's good! Now fuck me, as hard as you want.' I pulled out as far as my knob and pushed in again. I could feel him pushing back towards me as I did. Now I was fucking him properly, my slender thighs crashing against his more muscular butt. His head rested on his hands. I felt under him and found his cock was still hard. Now I was worried I would come too soon, but he must have felt my teenage urgency. 'Now, boy, now. Fill me, Cecil. Come in me. Aaaaaaaah! Yes. Come.' There was a lot more like this, and my pleasure was increased by the pride I felt in the pleasure I was giving him. My orgasm built and built until finally it exploded. I thrust and thrust as my balls emptied into him. In all my nightly wanking I had never felt anything as powerful as this. I guessed I was in fact filling him, and that for the first time I was pumping quantities of spunk into him. When I had come I rolled away and lay on my side again. As he rolled onto his side too I saw pools of white cum on the shingle where he had been kneeling. My pride was increased immeasurably as I realised I had made him come, 'no hands', just with my cock. A dribble of my cum leaked from his arse, still slightly open where I had left it. 'I want a swim!' He was up and walking over the shingle towards the sea. I thought how handsome he looked with his tanned skin and the masculine triangular shape of his shoulders and bottom. He must have sunbathed naked a lot, as his arse was nearly the same bronze as his legs. As he waded slowly, painfully into the cold, June water, I dashed in with a great splashing as I always do. He was a poor swimmer, having only a laboured breast-stroke, so I showboated with my powerful crawl. Then we floated on our backs side by side. It was the first time I had swum naked, and I looked at my cock, limp now, bobbing, and then at his, laying on the water. He made a grab for me, and we were wrestling in the water. This was really just and excuse for a bit of fun, and I felt his hands all over my body, and certainly used the opportunity to fondle every part of his. Finally we stood up to our waists in the waves, and kissed in a long embrace. As we walked up the beach together I looked at his cock. It was transformed. Coming, and the icy water, had shrunk it from the massive emblem of masculinity to a tiny, wrinkled walnut. His huge balls were now tight in their crinkly skin, and looked smaller. I was worse. My cock had nearly disappeared, and my balls were tight.. We lay in the sun drying, and talking about acting mainly. 'You're not keen on acting girls' parts?' 'Oh, I like it really. And I do get some other parts too.' 'You don't mind dressing up as a girl, then?' 'Oh no. In fact that's the nice bit.' I paused. Should I tell him? I decided to. 'I've got a collection of pictures of girls in lingerie, corsets mostly. And I sometimes imagine it's me in the pretty undies. I haven't got a corset, but I've got a pair of panties I wear sometimes. And I find I act a girl better if I've got girly things on underneath. Though I don't tell the producer that! He's the English teacher.' ' And why not, Cecil? You never know he might find it interesting that you've sexy lingerie on. Do a bit of "The Merchant" for me .' I did him the bit where Viola tells Olivia that she can never love her. You know it "By innocence, I swear, and by my youth " 'Hey! You're good, Cecil. And what a wonderful idea Shakespeare had. A girl pretending to be a boy, a woman falling in love with her, and a man concerned about his feelings for what seems to be a boy.' 'It's a good plot, isn't it?' 'I think Shakespeare was bisexual, like me. It certainly amused him to mix his genders up. Audiences love it too, which says something about people if you think about it.' 'I think I'm gay, Ralph. Girls don't do much for me. And I've never known anything as good as when you let me come in you, Ralph. This is a special day for me. I wondered before. Now I know.' 'You're a very handsome and talented boy.' He took me in his arms and we were kissing again. This time I took the opportunity to really get to know his body. I felt the muscles in his shoulders, kneaded his buttocks, ran my fingers over the fine curly hair on his legs. I could feel his cock harden pressed against mine. I kissed a nipple, and found it harden between my lips. His skin was salty from the sea. 'You like that?' 'I love it. Here, I'll lick yours.' I had no idea my nipples could be so sensitive. As he sucked and nibbled, I felt my cock getting harder and harder. ' Do you shave your chest?' 'I have it waxed. A young actor doesn't want a hairy chest. Destroys the image on stage. And I prefer it.' 'So do I.' 'You're lovely, Cecil. Just enough hair for me, just a little bit round here.' He ran his fingers over my pubic hair. 'And nowhere else at all. Kiss me again.' When our tongues and lips had had enough of exploring each other, He again took my cock in his mouth. This time I was positioned beside him so I could take his cock in my mouth too. That is one of the most wonderful feelings, to have your lover's half-hard cock in your mouth and feel it straighten and stiffen as you suck at it. I almost forgot he was sucking at mine in the excitement of feeling that smooth, warm, soft as silk but hard as steel prick between my lips. He pulled me over so I was on top of him, and I bobbed my head up and down. I could feel his lips and tongue at work on me, and his hands one on each of my buttocks, stroking and squeezing me, his fingers often slipping into my arse-crease and teasing my anus with tapping and pressing there. This time it was he who came first, filling my mouth with his silky, slippery cum. I remember being surprised it had little taste, but pleased and excited by the feel of it, and the suddenness of the gushing in my mouth. I swallowed, and the feeling of him coming in me drove me over the edge and I came in his mouth too. . I pushed my bicycle as we walked back to the car-park. 'Cecil, do you think you could come into the theatre tomorrow. I'd like the Director Martin Daventry to hear your Viola.' His car was an old Ford. I stood there and waved as he drove away dust rising. I was punctual, at ten, and Ralph listened while Martin Daventry, then not yet the star he was to become but still as charming, affable and above all handsome as you know him to be, as that great man of the theatre talked to me about my school, parts I had played, and my family. I was not at all nervous: I knew I was good! I chose to do a scene between Viola and the Duke, with Ralph reading the Duke's lines. Martin Daventry sat in the middle of the front row. In the scene, Viola dressed as a boy, realises she is in love with the Duke, and he is greatly disturbed by his growing feelings for this 'boy'. This is the dramatic reality underlying the otherwise innocent lines we were speaking. I gave my voice and my body movements all the femininity and flirtatiousness I knew, and I could feel the sexual tension between myself and him. It helped, of course, that we were already in fact lovers, and I knew he was going to have me again just as soon as the audition was completed. I was, however, surprised when Martin Daventry applauded us at the end. We stepped down from the stage and he stood up to meet us. 'That was good, Cecil. Really good. Mature acting way beyond your age.' Subject to his talking it over with my parents it was agreed that I would take on juvenile parts, boys and girls, in productions, and would begin by reading the part in The Glass Menagerie for a production in September. It's a girl, of course, but rather a plain one, and ideal for me. As I hoped, Ralph took me to his dressing room after Martin left us. And it was there I lost my virginity, as they say. 'Well, that went splendidly didn't it? How shall we celebrate.' My answer was to put my arms round his neck and kiss him. 'I'm so happy, Ralph. I can't believe this is happening to me. I mean you : and then real acting. It's all so wonderful.' I was wearing shorts, and I felt his hand slip up my thigh, inside the shorts and rest on my buttock as we kissed. I had an arm round his neck, and one on his arse too. We stood for a moment. He was feeling me through the black satin panties I wore for the audition to help me feel feminine. 'Undress. Let's undress.' 'No keep them on. They're pretty, and won't get in the way at all. Mmmmmm' I was quicker than him, eager for some more of yesterday's delights, but soon we were both ready. There was an old nearly broken-backed sofa in the corner. He sat on the faded green velvet and I joined him. Now, as we kissed I could hold his cock, just as he grasped mine, slipping it out of the leg of my knickers. We were both hard. I leaned over and sucked at his knob, and then slid the full length into my mouth. I wanted to taste his cum again. But that was not his idea. 'Kneel down here, Cecil. I want to play with your arse.' I knelt in front of the sofa, my arms on it, and felt him pull my panties down over my thighs. Then his hands parted my cheeks. Then the stubble of his chin as he nuzzled his cheek against my thighs and buttocks, and then a kiss right on my secret spot. It was a warm, wet, lingering kiss, and culminated in his tongue licking round my anus. It was a delightful feeling and I'm sure I wiggled my hips in pleasure. Then I felt the tip of his tongue enter me, his hands pulling my bottom wide apart. It tickled and I giggled. But it was lovely, and I was glad Ralph continued, his tongue probing into me and licking round the rim of my anus. He felt under me and stroked my hard little cock, gently. This worship went on, till he got up and went over to the dressing table. I watched his cock waving in front of him, and thought how handsome he was, how lucky I had gone bird-watching yesterday, and how much I wanted that cock. He had a tube in his hand, that I recognised from yesterday. I had a momentary fear as I knew what was going to happen. I had known in my heart of hearts that he would fuck me in the arse today, and had even, somewhere deep inside my mind, wanted him to. I wanted to be his completely, as he had given himself to me. I would be his woman and his boy at the same time. And yet I was, of course, afraid. He knelt behind me again, and his soft fingers were spreading lubricant into my crease. Then I felt his finger enter me. That was not too bad. In fact, I decided it was good as he slowly and gently masturbated my arsehole, sliding his finger in and out and reaching round and round in a circular motion. I felt him add some more lubricant, and the finger slid even easier. This was nice! Then I realised it had become tighter, and knew he had two fingers in me. This was good, too. I knelt there in a sort of daze. I forgot even to wank, though my cock was hard and demanding attention. Then it was tighter still, and I felt really stretched, but still it did not hurt. Better still he seemed to have awoken something deep inside me, some centre of pleasure that was communicating itself to my cock. I realised it was exactly where you feel, deep inside, just before you come. 'Ralph. If you keep on like that I'll come.' 'Then you're ready, Cecil.' His fingers left my arse. I imagined it gaping wide for him as his had after I pulled out of him. I heard him greasing his cock, and then felt his knob pressing against my anus. He seemed to be holding it in one hand, his left hand holding my buttock. I felt him push and gave a squeak. It had hurt a bit as the knob entered. He paused, and then pushed into me with a long, slow thrust. Now that did hurt, and I protested. 'No, please Ralph. That hurts. Please. No.' 'Won't last, and the it'll be good.' He rested there, fully in me, his thighs against my buttocks, hands on my waist holding me firm. I had my face crushed into the green velvet and can still smell the musty scent of it in my memory. The pain passed and he slowly pulled it out. That was nicer, in fact a good feeling. Now long and slow into me again, and I knew I would like it. 'That's nice Ralph.' He laughed, and the speed and power of his thrusts gradually increased until he was fucking me hard. I felt his hand kneading my buttocks, enjoying the smoothness there. His balls swung and clipped me underneath, and above all that cock filled me and reamed me. It could not last in the excitement of this first time. I knew he was coming by the sudden short, sharp thrusts and above all his groans and panting. (We never dared really express our passion in that dressing room. Too many ears!). I came, my cock untouched, spurting into the green velvet. I like you in those panties, Cecil. Shall we go into town and get you some nice teenage girly clothes, and you can try them on at my place. I'd like to see you dressed like that. O let's do it.' All that long summer we made love every day. We sucked and fucked in the fields, on the beach, in the theatre, at his apartmenr in my parents' house, and in dangerous places like the top of a bus between stops, in and empty church, in the toilets of the Mall, in the changing room of a clothing shop. Everywhere and often. And we often went out with me dressed as Cecily. Ralph was my first love, but I have never been faithful for long, all my life. Martin Davenport, of course, seduced me, delighted by my female persona and male cock; he was only the second in a long line of lovers. ..