>>>>They'd gone too far this time. Lying there on the stage, quivering with tension, his mind sped through the memories of the last few weeks. The moment he walked out of the dressing room in his costume for the first time, the constant stares and rude c0mments from the NerdWhores (hey, THEY call themselves THAT,) the covert pats, pinches, and outright gropes the NWs assaulted him with whenever he was wearing his white tights. >>>>The thought of his white tights snapped him back into the present in an instant. Jon was, in fact, in the theater of his c0mmunity college, in fact, on stage. There is a full house watching the play. He is lying with a group of other actors and actresses, stage right. According to the play, in a "debauched stupor." He's wearing nothing but a pair of white opaque tights from the waist down, his costume having been hauled up by the girl whose feet are in his lap. And the girl in question is, in fact, Gretchen Pye, the Queen of the NerdWhores.>>>>The upshot of all this is that Gretchen's feet were not in Jon's lap accidentally. She'd been threatening to do this for about two weeks, ever since she'd noticed that Jon tended to drop out of the conversation while her shoes were off. And now it was real, and in front of a few hundred people. It started slowly (after all, they were to be lying there for nearly twenty minutes, until the play ended,) the girls beige-hosed toes almost lazily rippling and grasping at the feverish thing that pulsed and tensed against the soft nylon that restrained it. Then she stroked, sliding her toes down and up Jon's shaft, making him whimper.>>>>Deep beneath the pleasure, Jon found the hard steel of panic. He'd suddenly realized that he was ON STAGE. He whimpered (and Gretchen chuckled,) as he whipped his head around to see if anyone was watching. >>>>Amazingly, no one. They were stage right, and there were plenty of set-pieces and cast members between the two of them and most of the audience, and the point of interest itself would only be visible to one or two people, front row, extreme stage right. That angle ended in the bent knee of the girl lying next to them. They were safe from prying eyes. Jon felt relief even as Gretchen's feet began scooting and wriggling even more lewdly against his ready-to burst cock. He looked up and smiled, until he saw the look on Liza's face. Liza was the girl whose red-tighted legs were keeping them from view. And she looked at Jon with a mischief that stopped his heart. He knew, and once she saw that he knew, she lowered her legs.>>>>Now, less that three feet from the sexual spectacle he was embroiled in, he could see a girl of about twenty. Short black hair, round wire glasses. Wearing an oversized sweater as a dress, with light gray tights and short boots. Jon's eyes flicked back up to her face, and her eyes were wide. She fumbled with her boots as Gretchen began really working it, stroking his shaft firmly with one foot while the toes of the other scrabbled at the head. Jon's head was spinning, his body lurching, as he saw the girl in the audience shove her shoes under her seat and stretch her feet out, wriggling her toes in her tights AND>>>>He was pumping. His body shook with each steaming load that gushed into his tights. The girl staring. Gretchen cooing and chuckling. Liza laughing softly.>>>>Jon took his curtain-calls with his tights full of cum, and he hurried to the dressing room to change. He was reasonably safe, the cast members were all greeting their folks and basking in the afterglow of c0mmunity-theater stardom. Jon figured he could be showered and in his street clothes in five minutes, tops. He peeled off his gooey legwear as soon as the door closed, wincing as he saw the size of the load he had shot. Then he hopped into the shower with his tights in hand, so he could wash himself and them at the same time.>>>>A little trick he learned when he was thirteen. And need I mention that Jon was not exactly dismayed when he learned that his costume included tights?>>>>Jon poured body wash all over the tights and began rubbing himself down with them under the hot thunder of the shower. His mind wandered to the girl in the front row, the way she bit her lip, the way her feet suddenly tensed, en pointe, while she watched him cum...>>>>And there were noises outside the dressing-room. Gretchen. "Jon, you in there? I want you to meet my folks..." Jon dryed himself hastily, begging his erection to stop dwelling on how pretty the girl's toes looked in gray tights...>>>>He hastily wrung out his wet tights, and tossed them into his bag. Then he realized that his street clothes were in there and the tights would get them wet, so he reached into the bag, and found only the wet tights. His clothes were gone.>>>>"Jon? C'mon, won't take a second." Jon scanned the room frantically, finding only one thing to wear. A brand new pair of royal blue tights. Gretchen. >>>>An eternity of nylon sliding over skin later, Jon, was wrapped in royal blue and ready to give Gretchen a piece of his mi->>>>The door opened, and there stood Gretchen, her mother, some othe older woman, and the girl from the front row. Carrying her boots and digging her tighted toes into the carpet. Jon's cock swelled and stretched again, long beyond his control. The girl stared as he stiffened before her, and over the roaring in his ears, he could hear Gretchen introducing someone-or-other, one of which seemed to be her cousin Michelle, who's just moved here from New Hampshire.>>>>And somewhere under the blood in his ears, Jon could hear the girl asking him, as she polished her glasses and pointed them THERE, "So, Jon, have you ever done cosplay?">>>>And Gretchen said, "You'll love it. Hey, why're you wearing my tights, anyway?"