Break In Ch. 02

Break In: Ch 02

The Improv, Act III

This is fiction. All characters are over 21. Sucaweenee does not exist except in my imagination. The story is told in the voice of the narrator. This chapter is almost stand-alone, but you'll have a much better story if you read Chapter 01 first. © Copyright, 2025, Brunosden.

Author's note: remember this is a stage play. The first two Acts were described in Ch 01. Act I depicted a rape scene, repeated in Act II. Randy Miller was the "victim" presumably, but the perp was unknown. Following the style of some summer stock "mystery", Act II described three potential plot developments, each ending with a clue to the identity of the rapist. The audience selects one--and the actors, after a brief intermission, are required to bring things to a conclusion in the final Act. The preponderance of the votes was for the ginger doc as the perp.

Act III. [We are at Stage One in Provincetown. It is one of the oldest summer stock places in the US, but for the last ten years, it has been known as the LBGTQ+ Theatre, for obvious reasons. The last Act, performed after an incredibly raucus and sexy intermission, has three scenes: a monologue in front of the curtain, the male locker room at the hospital, and a condo bedroom.]

The protagonist, Randy Miller, an OR nurse, appears from stage left and walks to center stage and the spotlight. He's a short, stocky guy, clearly athletic and a gym rat, with sun-bleached tips on light brown hair, and a boyish face, clean shaven. He's in scrub pants, worn well below the waist, which fit his body nicely. He's bare-chested. There are a few whistles and catcalls from the audience, and at least one shout, "Take them off". He begins in a deep baritone voice that betrays his size.....

Scene 1.

"Monday was my day off every other week. But, I was always "on call" on Mondays--which meant that I needed to be within twenty minutes of the hospital at all times. In the event of an emergency, a text would require me to check in within that time, and be ready to work within a few minutes after check-in. I got paid for being "on call", but it did reduce my flexibility--so that was typically my chore day. I was usually at home, cleaning, doing laundry, and catching up with internet correspondence. My home is located easily within the time/distance restraints.

"Sunday had been a tense day. Our hospital is more than fifty miles inland from the Gulf. We are several hundred feet above sea level, in the river valley, on the hills on the east side. My condo, on the ground floor, was on the same slope. Both had been built into the gentle rise, with a nice view of the pine barrens on the other side of the river. Therefore, tropical storms and hurricanes were things we read about, but didn't fear. At most we'd get inches of rain, flooded roads which might spill over into the pine barrens and maybe some of the lower lying trailer parks at the edge of town toward the Gulf. Typically, however, such weather was an inconvenience, not life-threatening to Sucaweenee, out little town, named after an obscure native American tribe which was long extinct--probably because of their aversion to hetero coupling.

"But this storm was different. It had been wildly unpredictable, the cone of impact changing with each NOAA report. Saturday had been a typical late summer day, humid and hot. And most of us went about doing our weekend chores. But, by Sunday afternoon, the NOAA projections and the outside weather conditions were beginning to look ominous. There was at least a 50% chance that the storm, Melinda, would grow to a Cat 4 or5 and make landfall on the shore precisely south of us where the Sucaweenee River flowed into the Gulf. The River would probably back up and flood.

"So I stayed home, cleaned up the condo, and tried to figure out how I was going to handle the "double rape,"--one on each of the two previous nights--which you've all just witnessed. And my next steps in the seduction of my rapist. Just for fun, I found an old musical, "The Fantastics" on Apple Play and listened to a few of the more memorable lines, including the infamous, "The Kind of Rape You Get Depends on What you Pay." I had effectively engineered my "rapes," and I was still savoring the feelings of pleasure, heightened by the danger.

"Let me explain. Sucaweenee is a small, Southern conservative "Christian" town. All gays are closeted. And the preacher of the Community Church claims we don't even exist--since this is God's country. But, most folks knew he was just blowing smoke (out of his big fat ass, forgive me Jesus).

"I guess it's time for me to remind you of some things before we go any farther. I'm gay, mostly closeted, and very straight acting. I'm a size queen, always on the lookout for above average cocks. I'm not a cum slut--but probably not far from it. Show me an eight inch or bigger cock, and I'm on my knees, opening my lips or on my belly, spreading my legs, waiting.

[Someone yelled from the back of the audience. "I'll meet you in your dressing room after the play!" This was followed by jeers and laughter. I guessed this was going to be an interactive Act.]

"As I was saying, there hasn't been much action in Sucaweenee since I got here more than a year ago--but, recently, since I joined the club, I've had a weekly visit, typically on Friday. And, I'm enjoying Fridays now. Like never before. Hoping that one of the "rapes" might result in the discovery of a regular fuck-buddy, or even more.

"I think that I'm a little ahead of the story. A few years ago, a few entrepreneuring gays, who had gone for a long weekend in New Orleans, about 200 miles east via I10 (yes, the other Sin City where what happens there....). They wanted to enjoy sex in Sucaweenee, but doing so would require secrecy and anonymity. Grindr and other online "dating services" weren't geared for gays in small conservative villages like ours. So, they decided to form a secret club. Each week, anyone, depending on how he felt, could "become" a bottom and post an address and a time on the private site. A description was optional--but rarely given, as all of the members had been "vetted" by the executive committee.

"Then, the tops could visit the site, enter a code, and mark one of the addresses "taken." At the appointed hour, the top would visit the bottom, secretly and discretely, usually late at night, with no names being exchanged, and--well you can guess the rest.

"The final feature of the club involved the bottom giving a detailed report of the encounter on the club's site--anonymously of course. The descriptions were internet favorites both as entertainment and advertisement, causing the club to expand consistently--even as bottoms and tops paired off for more permanent relationships.

"All the tops were vetted by the Executive Committee. They included confirmed gays and men who identified as bi-curious, but not yet committed. Any "member" could propose someone, and, after a quick interview, he might be invited to a "probationary rape," after which he would become a full member. Any top who hurt a bottom was automatically black balled.

The club had been thriving when I arrived to take on the OR nurse job at the hospital. I heard about it from a doc who guessed I was gay. I was "interviewed" by internet and "accepted" as a bottom about six months ago. The doc was, I'm pretty sure, my first "rapist." He of course knew my address. My address started to appear on the list and my address (not my name, of course) became an instant hit. My Friday's were typically "taken" and began to be the highlight of my week.

"After a few months, I had proposed three guys, all presumably tops--a biker and champion dart player from the pub, a new ginger resident at the hospital, and a blonde Adonis, recently separated from his beautiful wife. I didn't know whether any of them would take up the invitation. But I hoped. Then it happened last week. I wasn't disappointed.

"You heard a little about the Adonis and the biker earlier tonight. I need to give you a little more about the ginger doc--who was selected by you, the audience as the likely perp.

"Sean O'Halloran, a resident had arrived only a few weeks ago. No woman or family arrived with him, and he took up temporary residence in the bachelor hotel maintained by the hospital. He quickly gained a rep for being shy and ultra-modest. He was an enormous guy, probably 6 foot 6, with rusty curly hair, dimples, and an ever-present smile. He was clearly an athlete, and his dick (even if a shower--I had never seen it hard) is definitely trophy quality, resting on a nest of the same curly rusty pubes. I did some research and found little. He was not and had never been married. In fact, no one had seen him with a woman on the weekend--and this is a very small town. He had done his medical studies at Trinity, Dublin, but he was an American, born to Irish Catholic parents, attending Boston Latin after parochial grammar school.

"He had not responded to several very obvious invitations from some of the nurses. All the young unmarried nurses attended regular "mixers" at the hotel. These mixers were sponsored by the hospital, since it considered itself to be a matchmaker--hoping to keep medical talent by "engaging" them with the local population. He seemed uninterested.

"Once or twice, I'm sure he had caught me staring at him showering, while I stroked myself in a nearby stall. Once, he fisted his semi and stroked, perhaps in response. Then, apparently he changed his mind. He had rinsed off quickly and sped away. It didn't happen again, although I often felt his eyes staring at me while my back was turned, and when I did, I ensured that my bubble was in perfect position for his inspection. Perhaps even wiggling it a bit in his direction.

[Another voice from the back of the theatre: "Show us the wiggle, Randy!"]

"I tried to open him up with an invitation to lunch in the hospital cafeteria or to the brewpub on Fridays with a group of us. But, he had been wary and begged off.

"So, I had proposed his name to the Executive Committee of the surreptitious rape club, thinking the anonymity might appeal to the doc. He was the third guy that I had nominated. After some remote seduction that failed, I had already proposed the blonde weight lifter from my condo gym and a dark biker at the pub whose basket seems ready to break through the buttons holding it in. But, I don't think either of them had picked up my address. I'm pretty sure that I would have known. They were both pretty special.

"But back to the present. By midnight the rains had come and the winds were moving in. And so at 2 a. m., the emergency call issued. **Report to SMM before 3 a. m. All leaves and holidays are hereby canceled.** All hands were needed to staff the ER 'where patients would be examined and triaged, and the OR, to which life threatening emergencies would be immediately referred.

"I walked immediately to the hospital--in the light rain, since I assumed my car would be safer in the condo garage since the hospital had very limited parking, particularly if the lower lot flooded. I entered the men's lockers. It was a zoo."

["Fuck! Way too long an intro, Randy. You talk too much. Get to the good stuff! Or at least show us your ass."]

Scene 2 [The curtain draws on a locker room, presumably near the ER. Winds are howling, and rain is falling heavily--both heard whenever the sliding doors in the ER automatically open. The men's locker room is quiet, dimly lit, but filled with men changing into the scrubs that they will wear for their next duty hours. There was plenty of nudity to please the audience, and they nearly broke up the theatre with the show. I-phones flashed throughout the dark space.]

Probably twenty, maybe more staff were crowded into a space which was normally used by only a few. I grabbed a set of scrubs from the freshly laundered sets on the shelf, and squeezed into my locker alcove, where I stripped off the wet clothes and jammed them into the locker. I also pushed in a plastic bag containing another pair of scrubs pants, obviously previously used. I started to pull on the new scrubs, facing the locker, but felt eyes burning into my butt. I slammed the locker and turned.

He had seen me put the bag with the scrubs in the locker. His eyes had widened as he watched. And I think they were equally enthralled with my ass, which was about to be covered by the thin blue cotton. But, he didn't say anything. It was all business. We were preparing for an emergency. I pulled up the scrubs, reached down and adjusted my jewels, and I think he licked his lips.

I wondered how I was going to play this. I was certain that Sean had raped me, twice a night ago and once the night before that. Now he could guess that I knew. Of course, they weren't really rapes--I had posted my availability for the first, and I guess I had to admit that I had invited the second, even prepared for it. Why was he being so coy and secretive? I had virtually invited him in--and given him the chance to take me without conversation or commitment. So, to break the silence, I asked, "This'll turn this backwater into something more exciting. Have you ever experienced a hurricane before, Doc?"

He hesitated, seemingly reluctant to open a conversation. Then he realized simple civility required something. "No. But they can't be any worse than the Nor'easters we get in New England. And frankly I can easily do without the drama and excitement. I've never been into drama or drama queens."

I had an opening; so I continued, "Sorry. I sort of like the excitement of the unknown--so I guess you could call me a drama queen. This one is likely to end our summer nights. I guess I'm going to have to start closing my sliders at night. I really prefer sleeping with them open. Maybe I'll get one more night."

He jolted. His eyes shot up. Now he knew. We both knew. But, I'm assuming that he was hoping that I wouldn't continue the conversation with the other docs so close around us. So I changed the subject. "I think we're assigned to the same OR early this morning and throughout the rest of the day. I'm looking forward to working with you. Just let me know if anything that I'm doing--or not doing--is not what you want. And I promise no unnecessary drama."

The storm did swerve toward New Orleans at the eleventh hour before coming ashore. So we were going to get heavy winds and a lot of rain. That meant car accidents, maybe a fire caused by downed lines, or even possibly a drowning or electrocution victim. They started pouring into the ER just as the sun rose. And we were busy throughout the day. We worked late, but like so many of these storms, after it passed, the sun came out brightly and things seemed almost normal, maybe a little cooler. Trees had come down, and the river had not yet crested--it wouldn't until the next day as the storm dropped water on the hills to the north. The trailer park was evacuated just in case. And thankfully, no one lived in the pine barrens.

Hours later, as night fell, our 16-hour shift was finally over. We moved to the locker. And I knew I only had a few minutes to clinch a date with Sean--with or without the anonymity of a midnight rape. It was quieter in the locker room since we were among the last to leave. I stripped, grabbed a towel, waggled my ass at the audience, and headed for the shower. I knew his eyes were following my ass, so I exaggerated the sway that I had perfected.

I deliberately chose one of the gang showers although most of the cubicles were free. A minute or so later, Sean, walked into the shower space, looked around and chose another head in the gang shower--not immediately next to mine, but close enough to talk--and watch.

We were obviously tired after a twelve hour shift, but pumped, as we often were after intense life-saving hours. We soaped in tandem, taking more than the usual seconds to scrub the equipment and the cleft. At one point, I deliberated dropped the soap and flashed him. [The audience clapped loudly and shouted for more.] I could tell he was pulling a semi, and it was very promising. He kept turning to watch me when he thought I wasn't looking. So I had the feeling he was definitely interested.

So, I took the plunge. Fuck, what did I have to lose? So I fed him a teaser assuming that as the rapist, he'd easily know what I was referring to. "The weather has cleared and it's turned nice and cool. This is such a safe town. I guess I might get one more night or two with the luxury of an open slider." Then, I winked. Fuck, could I have been any more obvious?

Then, I left the shower, dressed, placed the plastic bag on the bench in front of his locker, and walked back to the condo. I entered through the garage, to check on my car. It was okay. But, I did note that a large new-model Harley was parked in the space next to the Porsche (owned by the Adonis-Daddy, I remembered). Curious. I wonder if the club had brought them together? I tried to picture either as a bottom, without much success.

Scene 3 [The scene moves to the condo, a studio with a couch facing a large TV and a bed, dominating the space. Both the couch and the bed are artfully positioned so the audience had full view of both. I had obviously arrived at my condo, pulled on some sleep shorts, grabbed some leftovers from the fridge and micro-d. When the curtain opens, I'm sitting before the widescreen with a beer. Soon I was asleep. A single spotlight shines on a sleeping guy, in front of a flickering late night movie. No other lights were on. The slider slowly and silently opens. But the seated figure doesn't move. Then, I awaken with a start. Two hands are on my shoulders. A giant, extraordinarily well-built man dominates the scene, standing behind me, legs akimbo, shoulders wide and upright.]

"Sorry to scare you, Randy. The door buzzer doesn't work. And I remembered you saying that you keep your sliding doors open."

"The buzzer hasn't worked since I moved into this place. I'm not scared. Come in. I'll get you a beer."

"Thanks for inviting me."

"One more time like this, and I think we're officially engaged in this town. At least you'll have to buy me dinner next time."

"What are you talking about? I've been thinking about your obvious invitations for a month, but I've never done anything with you--and I've never been here before."

I sat there in silence. What kind of game was he playing? "So your scrubs walked in here last Friday all by themselves? If doing it again for the first time turns you on. I can play that game. In fact, I can play any game you want, Sean. I'm really into games, especially with guys with big cocks like you have."

"Ah. I think maybe now I understand. We showered and changed at the hospital last week, and when I went for my scrubs, they were gone. There was a used set, but they were too small for me. Maybe you took mine by mistake when you left the lockers? You must have had a lot to drink on Friday if you think I was here."

That's when it all came crashing home to me. I was totally wrong. It hadn't been the doc after all. "Didn't you get the invitation to join the club?"

"Sure I did. But I thought it was a scam. The hospital has been acting like a matchmaker since I arrived. So, did the administrators put you up to this to convince me to stay in this backwater? If so, tell them they've succeeded. I've got a very good reason to stay here now."

"Now, I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do." He sat on the sofa beside me and pulled me into his lap. My arms went around his bull neck and we drew together. His shyness suddenly evaporated. He was a great kisser, with powerful suction and a talented tongue. And strong. Incredibly strong. He pulled me tight and took my breath away. Then released and attacked my nipples as his hand reached behind and began to massage my cheeks. [Some wag from the audience yelled out, "Get to the fuckin good stuff. We don't have all night!] We necked and squirmed together in the cool night. At one point, I rolled over and felt his hard, long cock. I untied and pulled down the scrubs. He was groomed and shaved. And it was definitely a monster, uncut with a big bell-shaped head, and a shaft that took two hands. I reached down and tongued his meat. He let me lavish some love on his tool, but I wasn't able to deep throat him. He was just too big. Finally he stood. [The audience went wild when they saw his erection in profile. He paused for effect, accepting the appreciation.] Then he easily lifted me from his lap and carried me to the bed. I was only wearing knit sleep shorts. "I guess you didn't want me to get confused again tonight and take your scrubs by mistake." He easily pulled the shorts off, pushed me to the edge and batted my legs apart. The unintended nap had taken the edge off. I was ready to play. And my "rapist" (who might not have been my rapist after all) was playing his part. But, I had my wish anyway. My seduction had worked. The doc was in my condo--and soon hopefully in me.

He knelt behind my parted thighs, and, using his talented surgeon's hands, pulled my cheeks apart. A tongue licked and rimmed. Then it penetrated and swirled. Lips formed a suction, and the tongue went even deeper. I squirmed in pleasure and moaned my appreciation. I loved being eaten, especially by a muscled stud with a talented tongue. The lips and tongue were soon replaced by lubed fingers that probed and easily found my swollen nut. He poked (MD's would say "palpated"), testing for sensitivity, texture and fullness. But, the science had nothing on the sensuous thrill of an experienced anatomist taking charge of your most sensitive anal organ. He stroked, squeezed, scraped sending shock waves of pleasure throughout. I was ready.

"I need you inside doc." (I'd know immediately once he was in whether he was telling the truth or not.) He lifted me easily like a little boy, and gently placed me on my back in the center of the bed. He pulled off his scrub shirt and hopped up, squatting on his haunches between my legs. He leaned forward, I thought puckering for a kiss or a nipple attack. But he kept going, towering over me, as he reached for the bedside lamp and lit the room. "I need to see you, Randy, when I take you." Then he dove in and consumed my lips, while his tongue invaded my mouth. Hands squirreled under my shoulders, moving down to my hips as he pulled me tightly to him, taking my breath away. Exactly the kind of superhero that I had been dreaming of. Our bodies squirmed together--or rather he squirmed on top of me as he totally overpowered me with his size and strength. He manhandled me into several different positions, using me like the toy I was.

His hardened dick poked my gut, and then my abs. Fuck he was big. And hard. And hot. No hood, but the glans was leaking pre-cum big time. "Whatever you're thinking, I'm not a rapist. But, I do want to fuck you. May I? Ask for it, Randy. Tease and seduction is one thing. Putting it in is another. But, for me, you've got to ask if you want the winner's circle."

"Of course, Sean. I've been waiting for this since I first saw you at the hospital. I'm ready. Fuck me, stud! Show me what you've got."

"Interesting. I felt the same way. But, it's complicated. I've not had much experience. I'm almost a fuckin' virgin, Randy. And I was not willing to risk a career by coming out in a conservative town--and with a subordinate to boot. It could destroy me. You could destroy me. This has got to be completely your initiative."

He had drawn back and was sitting at the edge of the bed. I moved into his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling his over-sized hard cock under my ass. Oh, I wanted his massive cock inside. "Fuck me hard. Screw me. I promise that what happens tonight is between us. You've got nothing to worry about; I'm not going to do anything of the kind, Sean. I'd never hurt you. It's simple. I'm gay; I like guys with big dicks--like you. This is totally my idea. No compulsion. Not even an unspoken ulterior motive. Just the desire to enjoy. Now, do me, stud."

"Let's start all over again. I need this. And you need this."

That's when he pushed me back into the bed, and lifted my legs high and wide, placing them on his massive shoulders. He rolled me up. He was going in for more oral, but I was way too close.

"You gotta put him in, Sean. Now. I need him inside." I grabbed the lube and handed it to him.

So he bent forward, positioned his cockhead at my entrance and began to apply pressure. He was big, really big. His thighs were huge and powerful--obviously he had played some football. He popped in suddenly, I think surprising himself, and froze. "Fuck, you are tight. You're not as much of a player as you claim." Then his lips touched mine. He rocked and slowly his cock moved deeper, stretching my chute with his girth. I almost felt he was going to tear me up, explode me from inside. He was smiling that special grin of a guy who's just taken a tight virgin cunt and was about to use it for his own pleasure. I knew then that he had not been the previous week's club rapist. He was much bigger, much bigger, yet quite a bit gentler. I was incredibly full, feeling the throb of the blood pumping into the spongy tissue of his cock, keeping it rigid and erect.

He moved into a rhythm with strength and stamina, pounding me harder and hotter and longer with each stroke. He bottomed almost every time, and maintained an almost exquisitely painful crush on my nut. I could feel the unique burn building deep inside. Fuck, he was going to give me an anal orgasm on his first try. Definitely worth waiting for.

Finally, after what seemed to be an hour, but was probably only a few minutes, he stiffened. I felt his gut pull in and his arms tighten around me. "I'm cummin', Randy. Cum with me." Then he started to shoot, hot hard spurts of cum, painting my deepest guts with cream. (Oh fuck! No condom! But he did claim to be a virgin! He was no virgin. But the hospital required us to test monthly.) Then, I let go and coated our touching chests with my cream. We both shot multiple times. And finally, he relaxed, his spongy semi slowly pulled out, and he rolled off and pulled me into his cocoon. I was helpless, but content.

[The audience roared and cried, "More, more."]

In a while, he rose, and slowly pulled on his scrubs. He was speaking to the audience as well as me. "I hope this isn't our last, Randy. I liked that. And I like you. See you next week in the OR. Then he bent over and kissed me and drew the quilt up over me. "Stay, Sean. I'd love to have you in my bed tonight."

He didn't answer immediately but moved toward the door. His size blocked all the light, but it crowned his rosy locks with a glow that blew my mind. "I can't. At least not the first time. Maybe next time. Sleep well, boy." And he was gone.

As he left, I pulled myself in total exhaustion up to the pillow. He had said "next time," my favorite words. His smell permeated the sheets and the pillow, and I was full of his cum--almost guarantying a perfect sleep. I spread eagled on my belly, pulled up the quilt to my neck and faced the wall, ready for a great night's sleep. All was quiet as I replayed the excitement of my doctor visit. [The stage lights began to dim--suggesting the end.] I was drifting. Then, I heard the quiet purr of the well-oiled wheels of the slider moving again. Was he coming back? I hoped so. I wouldn't mind cuddling into his cocoon for the night.

But no, the aroma was definitely different. It was a big guy, but not Sean. Oh fuck! I had forgotten to remove my "bottom availability" from the site, and I hadn't locked the slider when Sean had left. I was pretty sure it wasn't Sean. So I waited, with the aroma of musk and testosterone being fanned into the audience, as the large dark figure moved over me in the bed.

[The lights go out. The curtain drops, and the audience mostly male, and mostly gay, hoots and hollers that they had been had. They had voted for Sean as the rapist--but it wasn't Sean. Who was it?]

There was no easy answer--unlike the answer I thought I had discovered. The crowd slowly, but not quietly left, arguing over whether it had been the biker or the daddy--who had arrived late. But as they headed out to the local club--they were unanimous about one thing--they were enthusiastic about creating a new kind of club....]

BD

I hope you enjoyed the plot twists. I had warned you that Act III was improv, and the characters did indeed improvise on the page as I typed the script. BD