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From: ann_douglas@hotmail.com
Subject: ANND: Backstage Pass (1/1) MF
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Before I made the decision to put my little writing career
behind me, I had toyed with the idea of rewriting some of
my very early stories.  Trying to improve them with what
ever skill I’ve acquired since I first wrote them.  With that
in mind I rewrote “The Star”, then promptly forgot about it.
So rather than just let it occupy space on my hard drive, I
thought I’d post it in case anyone might enjoy it.

						Ann


	Backstage Pass
	   by Ann Douglas

	Stephen Rourke paced with anticipation as
he waiting in the long hall outside of the dressing
rooms.  The walls of the old theater were lined
with photographs of actors and actresses who had
once walked the stage beyond, but they held no
interest for the 18 year old.  His only thoughts
were of the woman who’s name was written in
gold on the decades old wood.
	His heartbeat raced in anticipation at the
thought that he was actually going to get the
chance to talk to her.  To have a conversation
with a living legend.
	It had only been a month since the blond
haired young man had finally managed to work up
the courage to write her a letter.  No, that wasn’t
really true.  Stephen had written many letters over
the last few months.  This was the first time he’d
had the nerve to mail one of them.
	The film history major had told how he’d
discovered one of her old movies on AMC late
one night and had been totally captivated by her.
So much so that he made it a point to find a copy
of everyone of her films.  No easy feat since aside
for a few cameo roles, the most recent of her movies
was twenty five years old.
	His bookcase back home contained six
books on her career, including two unauthorized
biographies.  With his letter, Stephen had also sent
a copy of his freshman paper, which of course had
been all about her life and times.
	The most Stephen had hoped for when he
mailed that letter was a personally autographed
photograph.   Maybe a little note of thanks for his
interest.
	Instead, when he’d torn opened the
return letter, a front row ticket to her current
Broadway show had fallen out.  Along with a
handwritten invitation to come backstage and
meet her after the show.
	The day after classes ended for the
semester, Stephen took what money he had
managed to save during the year and boarded a
Greyhound bus to New York.  It was a sixteen
hour trip from Greenwood Falls, but that was a
small price to pay to live out a dream.

	Reaching out to knock on the door,
Stephen gulped as it suddenly swung open and a
large black woman stepped out.  She stood at
least two inches shorter than his five foot six but
seemed at least twice his hundred and thirty five
pounds.
	“Can I help you, young man?”  She said,
her voice carrying a tone of annoyance.
	“I ... I’m here to see Miss Thomas.”  He
managed to stammer out.
	“Miss Thomas doesn’t see people in her
dressing room,”  the woman said in a cold, hard
voice. “If you call her office ....”
	"But she invited me...."  Stephen quickly
offered.  "She sent me a ticket to the show and
said I should come backstage afterward."
	"Yeah, right..."  the large, somewhat angry,
woman answered as she moved to  close the door.

	"Is there a problem, Katie?"  came a voice
from within the room.  A voice so familiar that
was like music to Stephen's ears.
	"Just some kid looking for an autograph.
Even claims you invited him."  Katie said
laughingly.  "I was just getting rid of him.”
	“Please,”  Stephen implored as the door
began to close in his face.  “She really did send me
a letter.  I sent her a copy of the paper I did on her
film career.”

	"Oh Lord!" the voice that had graced a
hundred stages yelled.  "I'd forgotten all about it, I
did send him a ticket to the show!”
	Stephen smiled at her words and gave
Katie a ‘told you so’ look of satisfaction.  In
return she gave him a cold, hostile stare.
	“Please let the young man in.”  continued
the actress.
	At that, Katie stopped the door in
mid-motion and slowly reopened it.  Somewhat
reluctantly, she stepped aside to let Stephen enter.
As he walked by her, she shook her head in
disbelief.
	Once inside the dressing room, Stephen
took in his surrounding.  The room was large, as
befitting someone of her status.  On the walls
were photos of her in many roles, both in film and
on the stage.  A small kitchenette occupied one
corner, and a pullout couch in another. It
resembled more a small apartment than a dressing
room.
	"I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding,"
came the voice from behind a changing partition.
"I totally forgot about sending that invitation.”
	"Will you be needing anything else, Miss
Thomas?"  Katie said.
	"No, I'm done for the evening, thank you,
Katie."
	“I’ve no problem staying around until your
visitor is ready to leave.”  Katie said as she stood
her ground by the open door.
	“No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,
Kate dear,”  the object of Stephen’s admiration
called out.  “I’m sure Mister ... err... Mister....”
	“Rourke.”  Stephen interjected.
	“Thank you,”  she said.  “I’m sure Mister
Rourke and I can manage a quiet chat between
ourselves quite well.  After all, I did invite him.”
	With that the black woman turned and left,
leaving Stephen an even harder stare as she exited.

	A rush of excitement filled Stephen as he
looked at the many images of the star on the wall.
They covered a career spanning more than four
decades, all the way back to her first role in 1953
when she was 17.  He remembered the movie
well, having seen it more than a half dozen times.


   	"All right, here I come, ready or not,"  the
voice behind the barrier finally said.
	Stephen felt his heart skip a beat as she
stepped into view.  In his mind he knew that
Cynthia Thomas had just passed her sixty-first
birthday, but his eyes couldn't believe she was
older than her late forties.
	Short silver gray  hair rested atop a  blue
silk dressing robe.  From what he could see of her
body beneath it, it was obvious that she took
serious care of  it.  Her smile, he thought, was
infectious -- exactly as it had been in the first of
her films he had seen.  One made so many years
before.
	"Can I offer you something to drink?"  She
asked as she stepped into the center of the room
and the full light. "Juice, soda, or maybe
something a little stronger?"
	"Err...soda would be fine." He said.
	"Coming right up."  Cynthia smiled as she
moved to the small wet bar.  "You must forgive
Katie," she said as she poured a soda for Stephen
and a scotch for herself.  "I'm not in the habit of
receiving visitors after a show, and she does tend
to be somewhat protective."
	"That's OK, "  Stephen said as he accepted
the drink, hoping she didn’t notice the slight
tremor in his hand. "I still can't believe you invited
me here."
	"Well....."  Cynthia said as she sat down in
a large chair and motioned for Stephen to take a
seat on the couch.  "It's been a long time since I've
gotten a letter like yours - in fact what fan mail I
do get these days is usually from "old" men or
someone wanting me to endorse something or
other.  To be honest, I was intrigued by your letter
- all twelve pages of it."
	"I really didn't mean for it to go on and on
like that Miss Thomas,"  Stephen said, a little
embarrassed.  "But once I started, it was hard to
stop."
	"Hold on now...."  Cynthia said as she held
up her hand, "This "Miss Thomas" stuff ends right
here, you make me sound old enough to be your
mother.  My friends call me Cynthia......and if you
really must....Cindy."
	Stephen's face beamed at this granting of
intimacy. Never mind that Cynthia Thomas was
only four years younger than his grandmother,
never mind his mother.
	"So tell me a little more about yourself
Stephen." She said.
	Fighting back his nervousness, the college
freshman told pretty much the story of his life.  It
took all of ten minutes.
	“I have to say again how impressed I was
by that paper you wrote about me.” Cynthia said.
“I thought it was a lot better written than some of
the crap some of those Hollywood hacks put out.”
	“Really?”  Stephen said.  “You liked it?”
	“Yes I did,”  Cynthia replied.  “In fact,
reading it got me thinking again about actually
writing my autobiography.  My agent and a few of
the publishing houses have been after me to do it
for years.  My chance to tell my side of the story
so to speak.
	“I’d love to read that,”  Stephen said.  “I
bet it would be a really interesting book.”
	“You have no idea how interesting,”
Cynthia grinned as she took another sip of her
drink.  “You’re looking at one babe who knows
where all the bodies were buried.” she laughed.
“And more important to book sales, who was
sleeping in who’s bed.”
	“Really?”  Stephen said, trying not to
sound too curious.
	“Really.”  Cynthia repeated.  “And the real
story, not the stuff that finds its way into all the
papers.”
	“Like what?”  Stephen asked, unable to
totally stifle his curiosity.
	“Well ...”  Cynthia pondered as she ran her
manicured fingers across her lips.  “I guess a fan
like you deserves a little reward.”
	Cynthia stood up to her full five foot five
height and stepped over to the pictures on the
wall.  She pointed to the photo that Stephen had
been admiring before.
	“I assume you recognize the other woman
in the picture.”  she said.
	“Of course,”  Stephen said as he looked at
the late thirtyish blonde in the photograph.  “Thats
Pamela Ryan.”
	“Thats right, Pamela Ryan, the darling of
the silver and later television screen.” Cynthia
went on.  “Miss Sugar and Spice of the 1940’s.”
	Although not one of his favorites, Stephen
was familiar enough with Pamela Ryan. After a
long movie career playing the girl next store, she
became everyone’s favorite TV mom in the series
‘Our Little Family’.  It was one of the first big
sitcom hits of the 1950’s.
	“What would you think if I told you that
Pamela Ryan was a prime contender for Queen
Dyke of Hollywood back then.”  Cynthia said.
	“No shit!”  Stephen said in surprise.
	“No shit,”  Cynthia laughed.  “I wasn’t on
that set a week before she made it known to me
that she’d like us to be somewhat closer friends.
And it was impossible to miss her meaning as she
was stroking my breast though my dress as she
suggested it.  Pamela always did like them young,
and she wasn’t the type to take no for an answer.”
	Stepping away from the photo, Cynthia
paused for a few moments to see if Stephen would
ask the question that she knew had to be going
through his mind.  She gave him a lot of credit for
not asking it.  In fact she was impressed enough to
answer it.
	“Yes, I eventually did share the comfort of
Pamela’s sheets.”  She admitted.  “And if I decide
to tell the whole tale, you’d find that I had some
very distinguished company in that regard.”

	For over an hour they sat and talked, as
Stephen sipped his soda and Cynthia refilled her
drink twice. Cynthia wove a version of her life not
found in any book Stephen ever read. Of life in
Hollywood over the years and of her loves and
adventures as a young and then not so young
starlet.  Stephen was totally fascinated by all the
stories, causing the veteran actress to reveal more
and more details of her life.

	"You must think I’m terribly wicked."  She
said as she paused after telling of another big
name lover.  "Normally I never talk about those
days, but there's something about you that just
makes me want to open up.  I hope you're not too
embarrassed?"
	"Oh not at all, I could sit and listen to you
for hours."  Stephen replied.
	"Watch what you wish for..."  Cynthia said
with a grin. "You might just regret that."
	"Never..." Stephen interjected.
	"Very well....now where was I....oh
yes....it was back in '73......"

	As Cynthia continued with yet another tale
of sexual conquest among Hollywood's elite,
Stephen became more and more away of her
sexuality.  Her loose fitting gown had become
even looser, giving him ample view of her breasts.
He found himself imaging the star of her current
tale fondling them.  Something he had to admit
he'd done himself in countless dreams.
	"Maybe I'd better stop....."  Cynthia said as
she took note of  the bulge that had filled
Stephen's pants.  "It seems that my little narrative
is having some effect on you."
	"I didn't mean..... "  Stephen said as his
face grew red.
	"Dear boy, there so need to get so flush.  I
consider that the finest compliment I can get at my
age."
	"You're still as beautiful as when you made
O'Brien's Crossing...."  Stephen blurted out.
"Anyone can see that."
	"That's so kind of you to say that, even if it
is a lie."  Cynthia said.  "The eyes of youth....you
look at me and see the image on the screen, not
the reality of today."
	"I still say you're beautiful!"
	"You do believe that, my darling Stephen."
she replied beaming, "Well you deserve a look at
the whole package then...."


	With that she stood and pulled on the sash
of her robe.  With a flourish she dropped in to the
floor, revealing her to be nude beneath it.
	Stephen's mouth dropped open as he was
confronted by a set of beautiful 36c breasts.
He had  masturbated a thousand times imagining
them, now they were only a foot away.
	"I hope your still looking with those eyes
of youth."  Cynthia said as she struck a pose.  "Do
you like what you see?"
	"You're more beautiful than I could've
imaged."  came his reply.
	"I love you Stephen....I hardly know you
but I love you."
	With that she pulled him up from the
couch and kissed him.  Softly at first, then
Stephen felt her tongue slip into his mouth and she
pressed against him.  Before he realized it, she had
slipped her hand down his pants and embraced his
hard cock.
	"I really shouldn't be doing this,"  Cynthia
whispered between kisses as she stroked his cock.
"But I have always had such a weakness for
handsome young men."
	Stephen's only reply was a soft moan.
	"Do you want me to stop?"  she asked.
	"Oh no......please don't stop..."  he panted.

	A wicked smile crossed Cynthia's lips as
she drew his mouth down to her breasts, pushing
her nipple inside it.
	"Suck me...my pretty boy.." Cynthia
purred.  "Suck Cindy's tits."
	Stephen was only too eager to comply as
he drew her nipple inside his mouth and worked
his tongue around it.  He could feel the pressure in
his balls, already he wanted to cum.
	Cynthia could also feel the pressure in his
young manhood, but her tight experienced grip assured
that he wouldn't cum before she was ready.  She had
plans for all that beautiful boy-juice.
	"Mmmmm."  Stephen moaned as she
replaced one breast in his mouth with the other.
	"Oh yes, baby .. thats it....suck those
beautiful tits."  she said as she pulled open his
pants, relieving some on the pressure on his cock.
"Get those nipples nice and hard."
	For over ten minutes, Stephen devoured
Cynthia's breasts, covering them with kisses.  His
shirt soon followed his pants to the floor and he
was soon as naked as the actress.  She continued
her hold on his cock, letting it grow just soft enough
so that he was no longer in danger of shooting too
soon.
	"Lean back lover,"  Cynthia said as she
eased him back onto the couch.  "Cindy's gonna
make you feel real nice."
	The older woman dropped to her knees
before the young man and took his cock into her
mouth.  As the wetness of her lips engulfed him,
Stephen fell into a pit of desire.  With careful
strokes of her tongue, she brought him again and
again to the point of release, stopping each time just
short of orgasm.  It wasn't Stephen's first blowjob,
but it was undoubtedly the best.
	Don't stop,"  he said as he drifted in
ecstasy, "Don't ever stop."
	“You have such a beautiful cock, my
love.”  Cynthia purred as she ran her tongue up
and down his length once again.
	It had been quite a few years since she’d
sucked a cock this young.  Back in the days when
she was first starting out as an actress, Cynthia had
become quite the first class cocksucker.  That was
in the days when most girls didn’t engage in such
‘disgusting practices’.  For Cynthia and her fellow
hopefuls though, it was just part of the stock in
trade. A way to help open much needed doors.
She quickly discovered that she really loved it.
The veteran actress wanted Stephen to enjoy all the
loving skill she had acquired over the years.
	Cynthia deep throated him again, taking all
seven inches into her mouth.  He was as hard as
he could be, and soon even her practiced hand
wouldn't be able to keep him from exploding.

	"Have you ever fucked a woman,
Stephen?"  she asked in a deep sexy voice.  "Have
you ever filled a woman with this big beautiful
cock?"
	"Errr...sure, "  Stephen murmured,
thinking it a crime to compare the few teenage
girls he'd been with back home to this woman on
her knees before him.
	"Well, Cindy's going to teach you
something new...."  she said as she stood, pulling
him to a standing position as she held onto his
cock.  "Something I'm sure they don't teach back
in Greenwood Falls."


	Leading him over to her dressing table,
Cynthia popped the lid off a large jar of Vaseline
and scooped up a generous portion of it with her
fingers.  First she smeared it over the head of his
cock, then the shaft.  That done, she slid a gel
covered finger into her anus, then a second,
moving them in and out.  Satisfied with both the
level of lubrication and tightness, she bent over
the arm of the couch and spread her legs.  A little
unsure of what exactly to do, Stephen moved
behind her aimed his hard cock at her inviting
pussy.
	"No, not there....."  Cynthia said as she
reached back and again took hold of him, guiding
him to her smaller tighter hole.  "Here..."  she said
as she eased the head of his cock against her hole.
	Pushing forward, his cockhead slid inside
her, her ass wrapping itself around the gel covered
cock.  Stephen couldn't believe the tightness of
her ass, or how good it felt around his cock.  He
slid back a little, drawing it out about and inch,
then two......then he gently guided it forward and
buried his shaft deep inside her.
	"Fuck  yes!!!!"  Cynthia yelled as she felt
the pain / pleasure combination  rip into her.
"Fuck my ass, fill it with that big beautiful cock!"
	As her hole relaxed more, Stephen began
to develop a rhythm, thrusting harder with each
stroke. Cynthia followed the rhythm, pushing her
ass back to meet each new thrust, until his now
engorged balls slapped against her ass.  Her frenzy
increased with each new penetration, until she
could no longer speak, only utter a grunting noise.
	As one hand balanced her against the
couch arm, the other had found it's way to her clit
and she rubbed herself incessantly, adding to the
torrid raging within her.  Feeling Stephen begin
to tense behind her, she managed through sheer
effort to again find her voice.
	"Fuck me...."  she panted in gasps.  "Fill
my ass with that beautiful cum."
	A few seconds  later, Stephen fulfilled her
request as he experienced the most explosive
orgasm of his young life.  Cynthia's sphincter
seemed to tighten around the base of his cock as a
fountain of cum rushed into her.  Each additional
thrust brought more, until he was finally drained
completely.  Then in exhaustion he collapsed on
top of her, his cock still inside her as if, even
drained ,she was unwilling to get him go.

	It was nearly ten minutes before either of
them spoke.  Cynthia gently stroked his now limp
cock and kissed him gently.
	“My pretty young man,”  Cynthia whispered
as she enjoyed the warmth of his body against her own.
“You’ve made me feel like a young woman again.”

  	Cynthia knew that this wouldn't be a one time
thing.  This had been more than just a simple fuck.  The
experience had rejuvenated her.
	First thing in the morning she would have Stephen
move in with her.   She would find him a job, which shouldn’t
be too hard.  After all he was good looking enough to be on
the stage.  She didn't think many actresses would mind having
a man opposite them for a change instead of another fairy.  And
of course she would be happy to share him - that was the nature
of show business.  And she could well afford to be generous.  After
 all, she was Cynthia Thomas, and she had an image to maintain.


END


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