I'm afraid I'm shaking a bit while writing this, but am nonetheless happy to relate that last month, after a winter of discontent, all my Christmases suddenly came at once. Someone I thought was completely out of my league, finally came up trumps just when I was least expecting it. Until recently, he was a first year communications student of mine in one of our leading Design Schools where I'd taken on a part-time teaching job to supplement my income as an unemployed actor. His name was Irving, and the sun rose for me at the sight of him. So did my dick. We "communicated" during the very first lesson, but for some reason I got cold feet. I told myself that I was in a position of trust and couldn't afford to fool around with a student almost half my age. Besides, I was supposed to be a "happily married man." By the time I got my act together and was halfway out of the proverbial closet and about to invite him for a beer or something he'd left the school which just goes to show you that life can really be a bitch sometimes.

I suppose I only have myself to blame as I'd been leading a kind of double life for far too long. I was pretending to be a devoted husband, when half the time I was lusting after some fellow actor or technician or having erotic fantasies about my male students. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that my wife and two kids made me feel protected from my inner inclinations. But you can only fool some of the people some of the time, and it didn't take Lori long to blow my cover and make me admit the truth to myself.

In a way I was kind of relieved, but also ashamed. I had to move into a studio apartment and step back nearly fifteen years which, strangely enough, brought me more in line with Irving, who turned up on my doorstep unexpectedly in search of "professional" help. It seems he'd been bitten by the acting bug and had joined a local stock company. They'd just offered him a role nobody else wanted, or at least had the guts to play. It involved being raped on stage by a Roman soldier in a controversial play called The Romans in Britain. It was a symbolic rape that was supposed to expose the futility of war and denounce such atrocities as the English in Ireland or the Americans in Iraq and was, therefore, intended to shock. He really wanted to do it and needed my advice. Rehearsals started next day. He also told me that the director was having problems finding an experienced actor to play the other role. I could hardly believe my ears. Here was the apple of this teacher's eye telling me he'd feel happier if someone like me was playing the other part. In other words he was giving me an open invitation to artistically bugger him.

It took me a while to take it all in. I'd had some strange propositions in my life, but never one quite like this. I told him I felt flattered he'd asked me, but needed time to consider. He said there wasn't any and started slipping out of his clothes as if to jump start me into a decision. His body was everything I'd imagined it to be during those long months of self-induced abstinence. His dick was long and hard and half erect. He apologised and said that he always got excited when he undressed in front of someone. He let his hand hang loosely over his swelling cock and then held it as if he was offering me a hot dog or something. My own dick had begun to respond to his body language, and I felt it straining against the cotton cage of my briefs, eager for action. When he turned around, I got a load of his luscious ass. There was a thin dark hair line running between his butt cheeks that seemed to be pointing the way to anal heaven. I grew even harder at the thought of slipping my way in there and being his butt master throughout the run of the play. If indeed there really was a play. Maybe he'd worked out this whole scenario just to get me to show some interest. If so, he'd sure as hell succeeded! I asked if I had to be naked too and he told me that I would be wearing a toga and only had to simulate the rape. It was all a question of technique. He suggested we go through the motions so I could get the hang of it and see how simple it was. That sounded like a great idea, and I waited for him to make the next move which was to help me get out of my pants.

My rigid dick reached out to touch the back of his hand as he worked my pants down over my hips. He smiled but said nothing. What excited me even more was that he was so matter of fact about everything. He had absolutely no inhibitions at all. Play or no play, by now I was past caring. In fact I was putty in his hands, and like Brad in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, just lay back and waited in sweet anticipation for the inevitable to happen. "We've already choreographed it," he said. "Two of the other soldiers will throw me to the ground, and you will have to straddle me. Why don't you lie down on your stomach, and I'll show you?" I duly did as I was told, all the time feeling I was in some dream or erotic fantasy. He did indeed straddle me but also pulled down my briefs and parted my buttocks. I heard him suppress a sigh and breathe between his teeth. You see I work out a lot and have great buttocks. "Now," he said, "what you have to do is put your hand around your dick, and fuck me with your thumb. Like this."

He worked his way between my buns with his fist as naturally as if he was kneading dough or rolling out a pizza and soon I felt his thumb begin to penetrate my anus. At least I think it was his thumb initially, but he made me so hot with those deep jabbing motions that I instinctively opened up for more and eventually felt his hot thirsty dick working its way in there. He tore off my shirt, grabbed my pecs and gradually built up momentum until my body felt like a roller coaster. He was racing me over every heaving hump, driving me crazy squeezing my nipples and biting my back until, at one stage, I thought I was losing my senses. My body became boneless, and I came in spasms all over the parquet. I just dithered and slithered deliriously across the floor until he shuddered to a stop inside me. "Sorry," he said, "I got a bit carried away, but that's the general idea. Let's have a beer and something to eat, then it's your turn."

And we did grab a bite to eat and drank some beer, only to discover that all we really wanted to do was grab and drink each other. When it came to my turn, I proved to be an excellent student and drove him literally wild with my thumb in his sphincter. Soon he couldn't tell the difference between the bulging bulbhead of my bobbing dick, and the steady thrust of my throbbing thumb. Needless to say I "auditioned" for the role the next day, and am now in the third week of rehearsals. Cast and crew can't take their eyes off my thumb and are very complimentary as to just how versatile it is. I must say at times it even surprises me. The director's very pleased with our professionalism and spontaneity, even though we've rehearsed so often that by now you'd think our routine would have begun to lose its spark. But we're so fucking hot together that when we kiss offstage, our tongues sizzle like curling tongs. Something tells me we should cool it and save a little for First Night, but how can you cool molten lava? I mean the chemistry between us is so incisive that everybody is convinced they're witnessing a brutal rape.

Nevertheless it's difficult to separate fact from fiction, and we tend to fine tune our performance in the dressing room. Yesterday was particularly productive. I got to tour his torso, caress his contours, nurture his nipples and butter his buns while all the time he was busy making a molten milkshake out of me. As his sturdy iron fired my furnace, I suddenly realized that this was for real and by the time we got home, we were so turned on we were ready to outfuck the entire Roman army. In fact my life has now become a wild whirlwind of thumbs and bums onstage, and sublime sexual satisfaction at home. After being in self-denial for so long, I can't believe how simple it is to be happy. And I have Irving to thank for it. I've left my wife, left my teaching job and literally embarked on a new career. Soon I will be happily humping in front of a horny public every day except Sunday, and twice on Saturdays. And the exhibitionist in me can hardly wait. What's more we'll get a bit extra for being naked or semi-naked on stage. Just think of that! Being paid for what we like doing best. Sometimes life is stranger than fiction and that's a fact.