top of page
61 - The Stage Manager

Jill was only two or three years older than me, but she loved teasing me about my age, how many things I didn't know, how “green” I was to theater and New York and everything else. And, even though I tried to hide it, I kinda like how she teased me all the time. She had short brown hair cut into a bob, and wore these big rectangular-shaped glasses with thick lenses. She seemed to always be wearing shorts and tank-tops, that summer. Like most theater people, her skin was pale; while everyone else was spending their summer out on the beaches of Coney Island or wherever, she and other theater nerds were indoors rehearsing plays, hanging lights, shit like that. Not that I minded her lack of a tan, or her simple yet functional clothing. I got a good chance to look at her body that summer. Her legs were long and smooth, and watching how her quads moved as she climbed ladders or walked across the stage floor did something to me. She also had these really large tits that her tank-top only emphasized. Was she wearing a size or two too small or something? Even with a bra, the heat made her nipples poke through the thin white cotton of her shirt in front, distracting me.

4783 words (MF)


Cover art by Hector Gomez

IG: hectorgomez

61 - The Stage Manager

    bottom of page