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Laurenina free porn video
Laurenina
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters
Dolores collapsed in a heap on the sofa in the dressing room.
"I don't know how much more of this I can handle," she moaned. "This
show is killing me. I don't know how much longer my voice can take
this."
Martin gave her his convincing look of empathy, and then said,
"Darling, I think I have found the answer to your prayers. I think I
have found an understudy who can take some of those harder numbers off
your hands."
"This is my show," stated Dolores emphatically, but he could see that
she was interested by the idea. Her look demanded more information.
"Now I don't want you to shout or laugh when I tell you this, but last
night I went to a show here in town and saw one of the best Nina
Simones I have ever seen," said Martin, adding, "Excluding you of
course, my sweet thing."
"Well why would I shout or laugh at you?" she quizzed.
"Well... it was a drag act." He let the words sink in.
"Just a minute," said Dolores. "Are you telling me that this Nina you
have found for me, is a man?"
"A very convincing woman in costume," Martin hurriedly defended. "And
does all his own voice. Fantastic range. He can hit the high notes
and has all the low notes that you find so taxing. You have to hear
him. He is remarkable."
"I am not having a male understudy," said Dolores Flatly. "This is a
serious show, not a comedy."
"Honestly, if we didn't tell, nobody would know this is a man," said
Martin "Before you say anything more, you have to hear him. He is on
again tonight. A late show."
***
Larry was escorted into the suite by a hotel porter and Martin greeted
him at the door. They both seated themselves in opposite sofas in the
large and opulent lounge area. Larry looked around and was impressed.
He had never been in a luxury suite before.
"Larry, I want to say again what I said to you the night before last,"
began Martin. "I just love your Nina Simone. And I want to offer you
the opportunity to make a good living out of it."
"Well, I have a job at the moment," said Larry. "I only do the show
thing some nights a week for some extra cash."
Martin observed that his speaking voice was not deep, but not
effeminate either. He was slim and not tall. His skin was not as dark
as either Nina or Dolores, nor was his nose and mouth as wide as
theirs. But he had the large limpid eyes.
"You have the opportunity to earn much more than a little extra cash,"
said Martin. "Our show has been running for two years and we are about
to start a world tour. We are talking net income of $200,000 within a
year. More if box office receipts permit a bonus."
"You're kidding." Larry was genuinely shocked.
"Dolores Simpson, our Nina, our principal performer, has authorised me
to make you an offer based solely on your performance last night."
Martin leaned for with serious intent: "We are only in this town for
another night so we will need a prompt response. So I need to explain
one important proviso."
Larry's head was spinning: "Sure. Go on. Shoot. Whatever you want."
He added: "I have always wanted a chance in show business. Woah."
"The proviso is that she will not hire you as a man. She will only
want a woman for this role." Martin leaned back after he said it, to
watch for the reaction. There was only confusion.
"I guess I don't understand," said Larry, starting to feel that his big
break was already evaporating. "I am a woman in this role, but as you
can see, I am not a woman. Do you want me or not."
"Oh we want you," said Martin. "We just don't want this role to be
performed by a female impersonator. It is something that Dolores is
very particular about. It's a pride thing, I guess. I don't quite
understand it myself. But if you want this job you will have to take
it as a woman. You cannot tell anybody that you are a man."
"So you want me to pretend to be a woman," said a shocked Larry. "Like
off stage as well as on stage? Like walk around dressed as a woman
between gigs?"
"We will help you," said Larry. "For Dolores the important thing is
that this is a serious tribute show. She feels a real affinity with
Nina Simone. She is her idol. Her hero. A hero, or heroine for
African Americans like her ... and you. She is worried that having her
portrayed by a man would make fun of her. That we could never bear.
Do you understand?"
"She's my hero too," said Larry. "I do understand what you want, and
why. I just don't think I could do it."
"If you sign this contract, you will need to." Larry placed a document
on the table between them. "This is the same contract as for all the
members of the band. You would be hired as a musician. A back up
vocalist who would come down on several occasions during the show to
sing some selected numbers as lead. Numbers that Dolores feels are
better suited to your voice range. You would be working under her
musical direction. The contract is for the balance of this tour and
then the overseas tour. Do you have family or dependents?"
It was all moving very fast. Larry was still collecting his thoughts
when he stammered: "My folks live out of state but I live with my
girlfriend ...".
Martin was a little surprised. He sort of expected that Larry might be
gay. He was so neatly presented, and his longish and barely crinkly
hair was pulled back into a small ponytail. His eyebrows appeared
groomed rather than plucked - still male. But he made such a
convincing woman.
Martin said, "Others in the band have partners but few take them on
tour. It can be gruelling for partners, and will certainly be
expensive. We only cover the costs of the artists involved."
"So I guess I need to talk to her first."
"I understand completely," said Martin. "Take the contract. If you
are with us, come here tomorrow before 10:00am with this contract
signed, packed for travel and dressed appropriately."
He picked up the contract and handed it to Larry. Larry could see that
"The Performer" under the contract was not "Laurence Adams" but "Lauren
Adams".
"You mean dressed as Lauren?" asked Larry.
***
"That is crazy," shrieked Leila, Larry's girlfriend of just on a year.
"Crazy good but crazy weird."
"So what do I do, babe?" Larry needed guidance. He wanted to take the
opportunity, but where would this lead.
"Honey," said Leila. "This is what you have always dreamed of. What
we have dreamed of. OK, so the girl thing is not what we had planned,
but you can do it. You have to take it. You have to sign. You have
to go. Quit the music store. It's a dead end job. I can stay here
working at my office job. I can join you when you get established.
What an experience it will be. This is so exciting."
"So how do I present myself tomorrow morning as Lauren?" asked Larry.
"This is not a drag act. This is for real. I will never be able to
convince people that I am a woman."
"I can show you how to pass," said Leila. "At worst you might appear
to be a tomboy, but I am sure you can pass as female. You do it on
stage every night. You just need to tone some things down a bit, and
work on some other things. I am an occasional actress, remember. I
know what's needed. We don't have much time, so we need to get busy."
Under Leila's direction Larry to a bath and shaved his whole body. On
his upper lip and chin Leila used wax rather than a razor, and then
special cream to soothe the shock to the skin. She took to his hair
with straighteners, and then cut it into a bob with a side parting.
That night he would sleep in curlers for a curl under style, not
dissimilar from the hairstyle Leila had when he first met her.
She went on to pluck his eyebrows. For the show he had simply used
concealer and had painted on eyebrows above where his were hidden, but
as Leila pointed out, he would need to be able to appear among the
travelling company, without makeup. The prospect was terrifying.
She reassured him, "It's more about the way you move than the way you
look." She put him in one of her dresses and spent most of the evening
coaching him on the basics. It included going down to the street and
getting in and out of the car about 50 times.
She checked his voice. He had the gift of range from his singing, but
needed to adjust tone in his speaking voice. She coached him in
phrases and the movements of the head that could go with them. He was
a good student. His voice was an instrument.
That night he wore one of her nighties to bed. They had the best sex
they had ever had. He teased her that she must be a closet lesbian.
In the morning within seconds of his waking, her hand was on his cock
again. Only this time, she told him to lie back and let her do the
work. His hair was in curlers and in a net, and his face still carried
night cream and it would every night from now. On. She told him to
open his legs as she lowered herself onto his pole. She worked up and
down him aggressively and when she heard him gasp she cried out: "Take
this Lauren," and pounded harder. If last night had been the best then
that morning was something else again. His curlered head hammered the
pillow. His male grunt was now more of a girlish squeal. The orgasm
was different. It felt almost as if he had hot sperm inside of him,
rather than the other way round.
It felt good.
***
Lauren wore a floral dress and pink sneakers over white socks. She
could have worn jeans but Leila felt that she was able to carry things
off and so needed to assert her femininity at the outset. That and the
fact that none of Leila's jeans fitted her and she could hardly wear
Larry's jeans. She would need to buy her own. Underneath the dress
was a bra with padding and panties under a "foundation girdle"
concealing the male junk. Lauren's hair looked good with the curl
under short bob and a side parting with a blue plastic barrette to
match the blue dress.
It took Martin a while to recognise her. She handed him the contract
and whispered, "About that help you promised. My suitcase is basically
empty." Her voice was a girlish purr.
"I meant it," said Martin. "After I have introduced you to the band
and the crew, why you don't you ride with Dolores and me to the
airport."
The band was not large - four plus a 3 man brass section and a pianist.
The crew included a sound man, a lighting man, two riggers and a
wardrobe lady, plus Jerry the floor manager. The addition of a new
member was a surprise, but warmly received by all except Ruby and
Marcella, on background vocals. It was clear that they were a tight
team and could not understand why another vocalist was needed. Lauren
judged that it was best to leave that to Martin to explain.
Suspicion was aggravated by Lauren joining the star and her
husband/manager in their limo, rather than on the bus to the airport.
Lauren was aware of it, and the need to develop a working relationship
with the team. But first she needed to work with management.
It was the first time that Lauren had met Dolores. She was determined
to like her. After all, they had in common that they were both
admirers of Nina Simone. But it was harder work than anticipated.
Dolores was unhappy with some minor detail affecting the sound at the
previous night's show and she was grumpy. It took a while to break
through.
Lauren had decided on the best approach. "I am really on a boat in the
ocean here," she said. "I don't know the show. Not yet anyway. And
then after the show I am supposed to live entirely in costume. I don't
know how to do that either. I really need your help."
It worked. "Call me Dolores," she said. "If you want to be a success,
do exactly what I say."
"Yes, Dolores."
***
In the next town they checked in to the hotel and Lauren was given the
room next to Dolores' suite. Rather than assign it to the wardrobe
lady she had arranged for a local dressmaker to come in and take
Lauren's measurements. These were needed to construct for Lauren a
body stocking that would mimic the curves of both Nina and Dolores.
Both had the curves of which Lauren had (at that time anyway) none.
But the same measurements allowed Dolores to select some items from the
dressmakers selection and off the peg locally. The wardrobe lady Rita,
did the running around, because Lauren needed to get to the rehearsal
room.
Dolores did not attend all rehearsals. Over time she had got into the
habit of only turning up to the last run-through before performance,
she said to preserve her voice and avoid getting too tired for the
evening. It gave Martin the opportunity to fit Lauren into the Act.
"Now everybody," he announced. "You have all met Lauren. What you
don't know is that Lauren is already a very experienced Nina Simone
mimic. She will be standing in for our star through the initial
rehearsal sessions, but our intention is that she will perform a few of
the numbers in the show in place of the star."
If the band was uncertain, it was all dispelled with the first song
Lauren sang. It was "I Got Life." Just a brief intro and then
Lauren's voice - a perfect impression. And then ending on that long
note, ever so slightly flat, just the way Nina did it. The band was
clearly impressed.
Lauren was able to show her familiarity with all the material. While
in her past performance before joining this company, she was limited to
just a few songs more suited to burlesque, Lauren knew all of Nina's
music, and it showed.
As the band took a break Lauren went over to the piano and sat down.
She depressed a couple of keys, checking the tone.
"Do you play?" Martin had not left the hall with the others.
"May I?" asked Lauren, and with Martin's consent she took her place on
the stool, pushing her dress under her thighs as if she had been
wearing skirts all her life.
She started slowly at first. A tinkle of the keys then running her
fingers down the board. Then the opening chords of "My Baby Just Cares
for Me". Then on to the bridge of that song, a short piano solo that
showed real skill. The last verse she sang, showing that she could
perform voice and instrument together. Her throaty Nina was perfect
for the song. Martin closed his eyes and it was as if Nina Simone was
in the room.
"So let me get this straight," said Martin, with a broad smile on his
face. "As well as singing like this, you play the piano like that?"
"Well not quite like Nina," Lauren said. "She was a concert pianist,
classically trained. I can barely read music. But I have been playing
most of my life. We had a piano at home. My grandfather played
honkytonk. My father a bit too. I am just self-taught I guess."
Martin became suddenly aware of a problem. Lauren could play the
piano, Dolores could not. Lauren could sing better than Dolores. The
only thing with Dolores was that she looked more like Nina. Lauren was
to too young, too slim, too pretty. But she had the voice of Nina
Simone. The husky deep tones were there, and were always a challenge
for Dolores. If you wanted the sound of Nina Simone it would come
better from Lauren than from Dolores. His wife.
***
"You're different," said Leila.
"I just get used to talking like this all the time, that's all," Lauren
explained.
"No. It's not the voice. It's all of you. You're different."
It was the first time they had been together for months. Leila had
arrived too late to see the show, so she had gone straight to the hotel
and been a given a key. To her disgust she had to pretend to be
Lauren's cousin. She would have been happy to be her lesbian
girlfriend. The room had two beds, but they had only used one last
night.
"It's more intense now," said Lauren. "I am doing most of the show
these days. Dolores is just doing the older Nina, and the line between
the older and younger has been slipping my way. I am now on stage for
80% of the show."
"How does she feel about it?"
"She was pretty pissed at the beginning, I can tell you," said Lauren.
"But she believes in the show, and I guess she was getting tired,
because she seems to be happy to reduce time on stage and concentrate
on being musical director and producer. That is what I have been
saying anyway - reassuring her that it is her show and I am just the
hired help. She's a bit of a diva."
"So are you getting more of the box office?" Leila was thinking about
their future.
"Not that she knows about," whispered Lauren. "Martin is slipping me
something extra. He knows I am the real talent. He is really looking
after me."
Leila took a deep breath and then blurted out what she had been holding
back: "I don't think that I can go on much more like this, Larry. I
never get to see you. I am stuck where I am while you travel all over.
When I do get to see you, it seems weird. When we have sex it is like
having sex with a woman, you look so much like one, now 24/7. I can't
tell anybody what you are doing and how well you are doing. I
appreciate the money, but to be honest I am trying to save so that you
can quit this gig and come home to me."
"That's not going to happen, honey," said Lauren. "This is almost my
show. I can't walk away. The truth is that I was made for this part,
except that I am not truly a woman."
"What does 'not truly' mean?" cried Leila. "You are not a woman, you
are a man. You sound like you have become something in between."
"I'm on hormones," said Lauren flatly.
"What?" Leila stared at the person that was her boyfriend. "When?
Why?"
Martin said that it would help with my shape, and he was right. And it
has helped with my skin and hair."
"And last night?"
"I have to use Viagra these days. And I wore the night shirt so you
would not see or feel my breasts. They are not big but they are
growing. It is mainly the bootie that I have been using the pills to
develop."
He said it in a matter-of-fact way, but he was suddenly aware of the
look of horror on her face.
"This was a decision we both needed to be involved in," Laila screamed.
"I am not sure that you care about me and what I think, at all."
***
"Do you want to come here with me on the couch?" asked Martin,
soothingly. "That's what I am here for.
"Yes," she sniffed. She went to him and curled up in his arms. He
stroked her shiny black hair and kissed her smooth forehead.
"Nothing hurts me more than seeing you unhappy," he said. "I will do
whatever I can to bring you back from this. You know that. Don't you?"
"Yes", said Lauren, pulling him closer.
"Why don't you wash up and we'll make love," he said. "Let me show you
what it means to be a woman. To be my woman."
"Yes please," Lauren said. Somehow Leila's letter did not seem to
matter anymore.
She went to the bathroom and pulled together her enema equipment. She
liked to use warm water with fragrant oil added. She removed the butt
plug, inserted the nozzle and squeezed the bag. It felt good. She
waited a moment before sitting on the toilet and opening up. Then she
applied lubricant before spritzing herself with spicy scent.
Martin slid a pillow under her bottom. He liked to make love to her
face to face. She was so beautiful. Her new breast implants were two
perfect mountains of woman hood. The only blemish was the small limp
penis and tiny balls, just above the welcoming entrance.
He slid his excited penis into her and heard her gasp and giggle.
Lauren said, "I love you inside me." He did, but quite how he came to
know that was confusing. It was just a kiss. Then it was a cuddle to
reassure him. Then falling asleep in his arms. And now his penis
buried deeply in his ass.
Lauren's penis no longer functioned, so this was how he got his
pleasure. And pleasure it was. These smooth strokes, that he could
just enjoy to the full lying back. He looked at the man who now ruled
his life. Leila had been important to her once, but this was her soul
mate now. A man to pleasure her.
"I'm cumming," Martin whispered. But he was already biting his large
bottom lip to hold back the torrent of total joy. It struck them both.
His fluid entered her and made her complete.
He rolled off her, but then enveloped her in his arms, disregarding the
sticky residue that seemed to cover the sheets and their lower bodies.
"I thought that you might like to know that Dolores is not coming
back," he said.
"Thank you for telling me," said Lauren. Somehow such momentous news
did not seem to matter in that moment.
"You are my only Nina now."
Lauren thought for a minute and then she said, "You know Marty, she
really never got to know the person she was imitating. She was never
strong enough for the role. I think that I have only just begun to
understand Nina Simone, but she never did".
"Tell me what you mean, Honey", said Martin shifting up to nuzzle her
ear.
"Nina was such a strong person, and as perfectionist she could be a
monster. But at the same time she was feminine, and with a heart that
made her so vulnerable, particularly to men. I don't think that you
can truly understand such a person until you are a woman."
The End
© Maryanne Peters 2018
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