Once upon a time, the Amateur Dramatic Society of Lower Slagbottom held the dress rehearsal of its annual pantomime "Jack and the Beanstalk" at the village hall ten days before Christmas.

And where do I come into this little tale? Standing on stage? No way! My place was a desk in the wing, hidden from the audience, managing the production.

Everything was running sort of smoothly. An hour in, I had only made about fifty prompts, pulled three cast members away from the drinks trolly to go onstage, and squeezed Simone's delicious bottom twice.

Ah, Simone, the source of erotic daydreams. Au pair to the Shaws' little darlings and my assistant stage manager. Every time I looked at her, I got a boner, and she knew it. Probably resulting from our passionate snogs walking home from the Red Lion.

Rick Shaw was beside me, in full costume as the 'baddy' Fleshcreep, sipping from a glass of port and munching on a mince pie while waiting for his cue. On stage, Jessie, a thirty-something MILF and the one actor I never needed to prompt, was confidently playing the lead role of the boy Jack. Bill, her husband, as Jack's mother in drag, was waiting to speak next.

Rick strode onto the stage, wiping pastry crumbs off his costume's sleeve. I glanced up at the fly, where Jane Shaw awaited her entrance as the fairy queen, suspended by a wire with a harness hidden under her dress. That was my favourite job - checking the harness was clipped together safely. Running my hands around her luscious body, feeling under those perfect boobs. I fancied her something chronic, though nearing fifty, she was a bit old for me. But she enjoyed my groping as much as I did and always kissed me after my checks.

A fairy queen's costume is pretty standard - a low-cut dress with multiple layers of Tulle to create a vision of loveliness. Above me, Jane stood on one leg, her other lifted high, practising the pose for her flight.

But the view was not as expected. Under the layers, I could see Jane's leg to the top, and there was a missing item - her knickers - exposing a mat of dark red pubes matching her hair. I called her name. She looked down on me, then quite deliberately lowered one hand below her skirt and drew her finger along the slit of her pussy before lifting it to her face and pushing her finger into her mouth.

A second later, she was aloft over the heads of the other players, waving her tinfoil-encrusted wand and chanting her spells.

Just a routine rehearsal in most respects, though after that, I had difficulty in clearing the picture of Jane's hairy pussy from my mind.

My final job was to close down and lock up. Satisfied, I walked into the Green Room to collect my belongings, where I found Jane sitting on the sofa, still in full costume. She looked at me accusingly.

"Jack. You have forgotten me."

Indeed, I had. My job was to remove the harness. I stood behind Jane and unbuttoned the top of her dress. She pulled it down to expose the harness, which I could unclip, and Jane raised her arms above her head to let me lift the harness off her.

Gazing at her bra straps, I held her waist firmly just below her breasts. Typically, she would take my hands and lift them off again before turning to give me a kiss reward. This time her hands took mine and planted them firmly on her tits.

I felt her flesh yield beneath the soft material of her bra, accompanied by soft moans from Jane. Leaning down, I nuzzled her neck, planting little kisses in every spot between her hair and shoulders.

My fingers explored beneath her bra cups, finding the hardness of her nipples and pinched her gently as I rubbed them.

She moaned, "Oh, Jack, I've wanted you for ages."

God! A woman older than my mother, and she wanted me. I had never thought it, never expected my fantasy to be reciprocated.

Her next move was to grasp my right hand, then pull it under her skirt and push my fingers against her mound.

I explored deep between her thighs and slipped my finger inside her pussy. It was wet, incredibly wet. Much wetter than Simone. I found her hard clit and started to rub there.

Jane pushed her bottom against me, rotating over my hard stalk. The only sounds were the rustle of the layers of Tulle and her heavy breathing.

"Make me cum, Jack."

With one hand on her nipple and the other on her clit, I felt her arousal and need growing. My cock was rock solid, pushing out of my trousers at the same time as she was pushing it back against my body.

"Yes, Jack, yes."

Jane's orgasm was long and deep. Then I guided her down onto the sofa, dropped my trousers and pants, lifted her skirt and plunged my cock hard inside her cunt. Thrusting madly, I heard her whimpering and moaning.

With a roar, I came, flooding her with my seed.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me onto her lips, our tongues meeting in a slow dance.

"I want this again, Jack, you wonderful man."

.

A little later, I walked into the Red Lion. Standing at the bar with his pint of bitter was Rick, the man I had cuckolded. Jane, his not-so-dutiful wife, was safe at home.

My target sat in a corner, sipping a glass of wine.

"Hi, Simone."

She smiled shyly. I took her hand under the table as I thought, this is the first night ever I will shag two women.