by Lee Dorsey
ANDROGYNY
by
Lee Dorsey
TORRID BOOKS
www.torrid books.com
Published by
TORRID BOOKS
An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC
Whiskey Creek Press
PO Box 51052
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Copyright © 2014 by Lee Dorsey
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Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
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ISBN: 978-1-61160-775-8
Cover Artist: Susan Krupp
Editor: Debra Nichols
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
E. Colin O’Leary
Education Director
Circle in the Square Theatre
New York, N.Y.
Chapter 1
From the time I was old enough to read, I was always the main character in the story. If it was the prince pursuing the damsel in distress or the princes in search of a prince, I could experience a sexual desire for the individual of the opposite sex. Of course at the time, I didn’t know what that meant. As I grew older and became more aware of my sexuality, I began to wonder if everyone could be sexually attracted to both a male and female without a differentiation.
I grew up in a small town within a conservative family. Everyone was expected to behave within the confines of their label. I was born a female; therefore, I was expected to behave within the definition of that brand.
Then one day when I was a senior in high school, I read an interview with a beautiful and talented screen actress. The interviewer explored her sexual preferences. The actress stated in an answer to the interviewer’s question: "Of course, (I’m bisexual),” she said. "If I fell in love with a woman tomorrow, would I feel that it’s okay to want to kiss and touch her when I fell in love with her? Absolutely! Yes!”
The actress’ comment put the feelings I had been experiencing my whole life into perspective. I knew at that moment what I had been feeling was not unusual or out of the ordinary. I fell into a category that is commonly referred to as "bisexual.”
After graduating from high school, I entered the local community college. It was during that time that I discovered what I intended to do professionally for the rest of my life. I took a course in "Introduction to the Theater.” All of the students were required to audition for the semester play. My first experience on stage was in the production of "The Matchmaker” by Thornton Wilder. I was cast as Minnie Fay, a young girl who was looking for adventure and love. Looking back on those days that character was me.
Minnie Fay was a sidekick to the ingénue, Ermengarde who was played by a beautiful young woman by the name of Claire Walker. When I began to have feelings for her, I couldn’t completely understand why. I thought that maybe it was her acting talent. I wanted to be near her, to touch her. I used every bit of discretion I could muster to restrain myself when I would be in proximity to her. I didn’t want it to appear that I was invading her space, so to speak.
About the same time, I had similar feelings for the young man in the production playing Barnaby Tucker. His name was Anthony Lewis. The two of us had an instant chemistry when we met at the auditions. As the rehearsals progressed, I began to look upon Claire as someone I wanted to kiss and touch. I was experiencing similar feelings for Anthony. Once again, I became very frustrated and confused.
Before I get too far into my story, I want to point out that as of this writing; I have a very successful career in the theater and film. I’ve always been very careful protecting my personal life. I’ve never had any controversies or adverse publicity. I don’t want to start it here. Therefore, from this time and throughout the writing of this erotic memoir, I have changed the names of all the characters that appear throughout this novel. The play that is mentioned later in the memoir was not the title of the work that began my professional career. Because my life revolves around my career and sexuality, I will refer to myself as "Androgyny.”
And now, back to the story.
At the end of the production, "The Matchmaker,” the director held a cast party at her house. There was a lot of alcohol. Everyone’s inhibitions got lowered and propositions were forthcoming. There was a bedroom off the hallway. It was located in the same vicinity as the bathroom. After using that facility, I was walking back toward the living room, when a hand reached out from the darkness of the bedroom and pulled me in. In my intoxicated state, I didn’t have enough sense about me to be startled. Someone had pressed their lips to mine. We fell back onto the bed. A hand found its way up my dress. It began to massage my crotch. I began to secrete almost immediately. A finger slipped under the edge of my panties and located my folds. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, I could make out a female figure. I could also feel her breasts as they pressed against me. With her fingers, she removed my panties. When her lips left mine, she slowly made her way down on me. The light from the hallway filtered into the room. I recognized the attacker as Claire.
I lay back on the bed and enjoyed her mouth and tongue. It seemed like seconds later someone was removing Claire’s slacks. It was Anthony. He pulled down her panties. He dropped his pants to reveal his erect penis. He had his hand between her legs and was manipulating her. It seemed like the more pleasure he provided to her with his hand, the more she concentrated on the cunnilingus she was performing on me.
When I turned my head to the side, I could see Anthony putting on a condom. Claire was moving her ass from side to side in anticipation of him entering her. With his hands, he steadied her hips. He slowly moved his penis into her vagina. When his manhood found its mark, she hesitated performing on me. Her lips were locked onto my swollen clit. Anthony was moving in and out of Claire in a slow methodical rhythm. Claire began to move her mouth tighter into my vulva. I could feel an orgasm coming on. I sensed that Claire was on the verge of one as well. After several minutes of this threesome, Anthony pulled out of Claire. He moved me into the position that Claire had originally held. I put my ass up to allow Anthony entrance. He accommodated. This was my first time having a penis buried inside me. Previously, I had boys and young men use their fingers on me. On several occasions, they slipped one or two fingers deep inside my vagina. In that respect, I guess I wasn’t a virgin.
Anthony began to move in and out of me in frenzy. I could feel his pubic hair against the cheeks of my ass. He had both hands around my hips and was directing the penetration. His penis was long, thick and hard. It was rubbing against my clit. I must have had several orgasms, simultaneously. At the same time, I was licking and sucking Claire from the inside out. She had her hands behind my head. She directed my lips and tongue. My face was dripping from her natural lubricant. She began to whisper to me what she expected me to do. I knew at that moment there was no way I could be satisfied by just one gender. I wanted it all. I could feel Anthony begin to pulsate. As he was coming, he let out a kind of an animal sound that indicated to me he was being completel
y satisfied. His upper torso slumped over me. I stopped my performance on Claire. The three of us just lay in that position for several minutes. Eventually, Anthony slipped out of me and left the room. I slid up on Claire and kissed her. We lay like that for several more minutes. Claire broke the silence. "That was wonderful. Shall we do it again sometime?” she inquired.
I looked down at her, smiled and nodded my head in the affirmative.
We became a threesome over the next year and a half. During the middle of our last semester, we got together for our once a week sex session. Afterward, our conversation turned to "What now? Where do we go from here?”
Claire said, "I’ve applied to ‘The Catholic University’ to complete my education in theater.”
Anthony commented, "I sent a letter to a Summer Stock Company in New England. I’m waiting to hear if they accept me for an audition. If I get accepted, I’ll work on getting my "Equity” card and take a shot at getting into a play in New York. If none of that works out, I’ll apply for an internship at the Regional Theater in Kansas City.”
Everyone seemed to have a plan except me. Realistically, I knew that a career in the theater was a long shot. Competition in New York and Hollywood was beyond the fringe. I was confident that I had the natural talent to become a professional actress. I also knew that one had to excel in all the aspects of the craft. I was an above-talented actress in comedy and drama. Performing in the musical theater was another story. At the community college level, a student doesn’t get the required training to pass a New York audition. I estimated that sixty percent of the shows auditioning in the "Big Apple” were musicals. I had looked at several universities that offered a degree in theater. I wasn’t convinced after attending one of those institutions, I would be any more prepared to break into that competitive field. If I was truly set on pursuing this profession, I had to look at other alternatives.
Anthony, Claire and I began to drift apart toward the end of our last semester. Anthony began a relationship with another girl at the school. Claire let her lesbian tendencies surface. She began to see a female professor at the State College. My sex life came to a screeching halt. I had looked forward to those weekly meetings with Anthony and Claire. Now I was alone and sexually frustrated. I took my sex drive into my own hands, so to speak. I masturbated at least once daily.
I made an appointment to discuss furthering my education with a counselor at the college. She told me about fifteen years ago, she decided to give the theater a try. She went to New York. She had graduated from one of the top universities in theater arts. After several auditions for off-Broadway plays and being rejected, she realized that she needed additional training. After speaking with several actors who were successfully getting parts in shows, she learned about several Broadway theaters in New York that were offering two year programs. These were designed for people who were seriously pursuing a career as a professional performer. She gave me a list of those theaters and the names of the persons who were the directors. The cost of their two-year program was comparable to the tuition at a State University.
"The program at one of those theaters had several advantages that the universities didn’t offer,” she said. "First, the student was living in New York, the center of professional theater. Secondly, the curriculum was designed to fit the requirements of the directors auditioning musical and non-musical plays. And finally and most important, a student had an opportunity to network with professional actors and directors.” If I could get accepted into one of these schools, it was obvious which direction I wanted to take.
I sent letters to all the theaters that had been referred to me by my counselor. I requested literature about their programs. Within two weeks, I received my first reply. The program was for duration of two years. It offered acting, dance, voice training and an invitation to join "Equity” at the end of the program. This last part was important. I assumed that without an "Equity Card” many of the auditions would be closed to me.
Immediately after the graduation ceremony from the community college, Anthony approached me outside the auditorium as I was talking with my parents. He slipped me a piece of paper. I put it into my pocket. As I was riding back to my house in the back of my father’s car, I unfolded the paper and glanced at it. It was an invitation to a party at a local hotel at ten o’clock that night. I had heard that Anthony had passed an audition for a summer stock company in Connecticut and was offered a contract. He was planning to leave the next day. He had rented a suite of rooms at the hotel and was throwing a going away party. The piece of paper was my invitation.
When I arrived home, relatives and neighbors had gathered in the back of my house for a cookout. Everyone began to approach me and offer their congratulations. After a period of time, I went to my room to slip out of my cap and gown. I wanted to put on something more casual. As I was getting dressed, a knock came at the door. When I opened the door, standing in front of me was a young woman. I had seen her around the neighborhood and at college. I didn’t know her name.
"Hi! My name is Helen. I live just down the street. I attend the community college. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”
"Come in.” I stood back and let her enter the room. She walked into the room and took in the surroundings.
"You have a very nice room.” She took a slight pause. "I was wondering if I could pick your brain. I have one more semester before I graduate. In the fall, I intend to take an elective in "Theater Arts.” The word downstairs is that you are going to be attending a school in New York, at a Broadway theater. That sounds like something I would be interested doing. Would you mind sharing with me some details about the school?”
"I decided to further my education at the ‘School for the Arts’ rather than pursuing a degree in theater at one of the universities. I’m convinced that it will give me a head start launching my professional career in the theater. I have a wealth of information that has been sent to me over the past several months from nearly all of the schools. Would you like to see some of it?”
"That would be wonderful,” she remarked.
I opened a drawer on my desk. I took out several manila envelopes. Helen sat down on the bed. I sat down beside her. As soon as my thigh touched hers, I had a charge of energy rush though my entire body. I think Helen experienced a similar sensation. I noticed a flush in her cheeks. I handed her the brochures. I was intently looking at her as she looked down at the material in front of her. I began to point out several aspects of the document. My hand touched hers as I was making my point. I felt that surge of energy again. Once again, her face flushed. She turned to face me. I moved my face close to hers. Her lips slightly opened. She began to say something. Before the words left her lips, I had my lips against hers. Her lips parted. My tongue slipped silently into her mouth. I was beginning to secrete. After a long moment our lips separated.
Helen looked down at the bed. Then she said, "I don’t know what I’m feeling; I don’t know what to do.”
I took control of the situation. "Do what your body tells you to do. If you have a desire to touch me, touch me. Nothing we’re doing here is wrong.”
She put her hand behind my head and pulled my lips against hers once again. I put my hand behind her. I began to run my fingers over her back. When our lips parted again, I inquired if she had ever made love to a woman.
She looked at me with her beautiful, soulful brown eyes. Then she cast them down as she replied, "Not until now.”
I put my hand on her thigh. I began to massage it. My fingers found the crease between her legs. I instinctively knew that she was beginning to get wet. "I have an idea, why don’t we get comfortable.” I stood and began to get undressed. Within seconds, I was completely nude. Helen sat on the side of the bed and observed. She looked at my body as if she had never seen a naked woman before. I reached down and took her hands. I stood her up. I began to undress her. The first thing I noticed was she had beautifully formed breasts. I couldn’t help titillating them. Her
nipples became erect. I put my lips around them as my tongue licked back and forth. After several seconds, I knelt down in front of her. I slipped down her slacks and panties. Once her panties hit the floor, I saw that she had shaved off all of her pubic hair. I stood in front of her. We kissed again. I put my hand behind her round firm ass. I pulled her body into mine. We fell together back onto the bed. I was intent on having Helen remember making love with me for the rest of her life. If she decided to come to New York sometime in the future, maybe we’ll hook up. She put her hand between my legs. She began to masturbate me. I, in turn, gave her my oral treatment. I had learned a lot of technique being with Claire on those once a week exercises. I began with her breasts. I could tell that this experience was something new to her. I let my fingers find her vulva. I slipped two fingers into her vagina. Then I moved down. Without the public hair to impede my tongue, I let it explore her clit. The clit had already begun to swell. When the tip of my tongue touched it, I thought she would crush my head between her thighs. She pushed her sex into my face with such force; it nearly took my breath away.
Helen had a series of orgasms. When she finally came down from her corybantic delirium, she whispered, "No more. Come up here and let me do you.”
I slid up to face her. I locked my lips upon hers. She sucked my tongue into her mouth. I tangled mine with hers. Helen rolled me over, and climbed on top of me. She leaned in as she put her lips and tongue on my left breast. She moved from one breast to the other. She put her hand behind her ass. Her fingers slipped into my sex. My clit was swollen and was very sensitive. I put my hands on either side of her head. I moved her to a position where I could address her. "Go down on me for a little while.” Immediately, she slid down my torso and moved aside my pubic hair. She took my clit between her lips. She began to suck. Her fingers explored my folds. She inserted two fingers slowly into my vagina hole and began an in and out movement. I was euphoric. Helen may have only been nineteen years old. I would bet she never had a sexual experience with another woman, but she was a natural. In a short time, I was having as many orgasms in succession as I could ever remember. I was in love with her technique.