Outstripped

by Avery, T. C.

  Graham paraded and danced all over the stage, hands waving in the air, and dick waving in the wind. He had a ball and everyone had a laugh.

  She eventually took pity on him and got him down from the stage and back to Luke and the girls. They both got a tremendous applause for their efforts. As the usual entertainment restarted the laughs continued at the bar and Graham decided, “Fuck it!” he didn’t need his clothes anymore. Luke ordered him another drink but his standing around naked got the better of the Geordie after a while. Realizing there was no real money in the game she’d started, she threw his clothes back at him and stormed off. Almost immediately Graham was dragged “stage left” by some other hostesses with obviously more heart and patience for our Groom than “Geordie”.

  The girls needed to sit down and led Luke by the arms to some front row seats at one of the smaller but higher stages. It was a bit like sitting at a bar, complete with tall stools, somewhere to rest your elbows and plenty of leg room underneath.

  A new girl arrived in front of them.

  The music stopped, the lights dimmed, she ‘lit up’ with a spotlight and she just stood there with her long legs apart and her hands on her hips. Clearly confident in herself and her surrounds she stared over Luke’s head to the back of the club and nodded.

  In those few seconds Luke had already “taken her in”. Slim, slender, smooth, curvy in all the best places, raven hair (“up” for the moment), bright red lipstick, glasses, striking, oozing with importance and clothed! A high-collared, waist length, fitted blouse in white, open low to a deep taunting cleavage, and a short, but not too short, tartan skirt. This was the real deal! Like your new Math’s teacher just arrived in her bright red six-inch heels, "And you will behave!”

  Luke’s jaw dropped and he began thanking God and everyone else that they’d sat down, right here, right now, right in front of her.

  The music began.

  Lady Marmalade. “Moulin Rouge.” Christine Aguilera.

  It was loud. It was booming. It was an awesome choice!

  She didn’t move initially, but then the light show began and her dancing started. Or rather her grinding, gyrating, in time, precision-dominance of the stage and her audience. She kept glancing at Luke and occasionally at the girls.

  Leaning on the pole she turned to face him. She began caressing the pole high above her head, stared at him, slowly licked her lips and then writhed up and down, horny as hell, knees together, twisting from side to side.

  Everyone tried to look up her skirt, but couldn’t. Not yet!

  She took off the glasses, reached up behind her head, pulled out the hair pin and shook her long black hair down. She bent forward, stroking the insides of her blouse and cleavage, lowered her hair fully forward, then, on the next big music note, flicked it all up and backwards like the water-soaked Jennifer Beals in “Flash dance”.

  Classic and clichéd, this stuff never fails.

  She turned, opened her legs a little then with palms to her thighs, slowly started to raise her skirt. Up it came to the pear of her bottom, then down again. Then up again. This time, she arched her back a little, and ever so slightly bent forward. Luke and the girls were given a “tease” of her white, lace thong, filled with pouting vulva and it was ohhhh, sooooo, near.

  The “palm assisted” skirt went down again. She looked over her shoulder at the audience and unzipped herself at the side. In perfect time to the music she snapped her legs together and tantalizingly bent forward easing her skirt down with painted thumb and forefinger on either side. The most perfect of bottoms presented itself, inch, by agonizing, inch. She paused, to give everyone the chance to admire, gaze, dream, and dribble a little, then stepped out of the skirt and kicked it aside.

  Luke looked in turn at the girls in his company. He had no idea if they enjoyed intimate tendencies with other women but he could see they were enjoying this and they were obviously impressed with the performance. Pouting, moistened lips are a bit of a giveaway!

  Famke enquired of his enjoyment so far.

  He took her hand and placed it on the canoe in his pocket.

  She raised her eyes at him, stroked him up and down a couple of times and then withdrew herself miming the word “later”.

  Eyes back on the dancer, the blouse was off, the bra was full, and “the twins” were about to be revealed.

  Out they came, and in went a long deep breath to a hundred pairs of lungs. The oxygen level in the place just halved. Ample, beautiful and perky. Her hands were on her hips again, her thumbs were in her panties, and her hips still moved from side to side. A proud, knowing grin crossed her face.

  Luke remembered Graham’s ‘pencil test’.

  “If she can hold a pencil under her breasts, she fails”

  Well she passed!

  Turning and coiling her fingers high on the pole again she wrapped one leg around it, spun and lowered herself to the stage. Coming round to face the three of them, she flicked her hair back again and then with ‘pure filth’ on her mind she crawled over to them on her knees. Luke was having trouble containing himself. He shuffled and made a few adjustments, mainly in the front of his pants.

  She brought her face right up to Luke’s, stared into his eyes and licked her lips. She somehow looked familiar to him, but “That wasn’t possible” he thought. Blowing him a kiss she moved sideways to face Aya.

  Aya reached for some club guilders. She put them in her teeth. The “Stage Goddess” kneeled up, leaned forward, and pushing her boobs together she accepted Aya’s oral offering between them. Her soft, but firm, smooth as silk mounds delicately caressed Aya's cheeks as she earned her keep. She deposited the “reward” into a small slot in the stage floor just in front of Luke (he hadn’t noticed it up until this point) and then reached out to stroke Aya, sensually, under her chin before returning to her feet.

  Luke was then given the ‘come to me’ index finger curl, but before he could do anything she pointed to the slot in the floor.

  Aya whispered to him, “Make it count. It’ll be worth it.”

  He quickly reached for all his “favour” money and stuffed it into the slot.

  Dropping to the stage again our performer lay down, full length, back arched, knees slightly raised, her long, slim legs and sharp red heels pointing directly at Luke. Bending at the knee she then raised them to the sky. The slimmest of white, lace thongs was looking right at him. She rolled her legs in turn like porno windmills, just to tantalize and add to his anticipation, then in slow motion, she peeled her panties upwards and off.

  Luke truly believed her soft, sweet, shaven, peach-like pussy was glistening and ripening before his eyes. A hint of pink. A glimmer of dew and a smell so sweet. Was it in his head or is she really ‘getting off’ on performing for him? Him alone?

  Her long, straight, stilettoe’d legs then parted to a 'V' and her delicate ‘labia’ opened slightly. She brought in both hands, stroking, caressing, and teasing her thighs, softly, slowly, almost painfully. Luke’s tongue came out. Nobody saw. She saw. Then after moistening one solitary middle finger between her other “two lips” she delicately placed it along the full length of her pussy. Luke nearly ‘lost himself’ in his pants as she lifted her head to smile at him, raised her finger then slid it in. Then out. Then in. Then out. Twice more. Then up came the legs, down came the knees, and off went the lights, and the music, together.

  “Holy Shit! Don’t stop there”. He thought.

  The lights came on again and normality resumed. Music. Dancing. Frivolity. Entertainment.

  The Goddess was standing again, with open arms, beckoning Aya and Famke to join her on stage. Luke looked at them both questioningly, secretly hoping they would go, but pretending to have their ‘best interests and honour’ at heart. The Goddess encouraged them and, to Luke’s amazement, they gave in and mounted the stage leaving ‘jacket and wrap’ behind.

  A 'Cabaret' chair was delivered to their stage together with a little wooden box. The Goddess stood be
hind the chair with the two of them on either side and she began to whisper to them. Shyly, coyly, they covered their mouths, giggling, protesting yet nodding their approval.

  The “star” slinked off the stage and disappeared leaving the girls waiting for their cue.

  It began. Tom Jones. “Kiss”. Brilliant choice.

  At first they looked as if they hadn’t a clue. Out of their depth amateurs, maybe? But given a few more bars of music they began to hit their beat, find their rhythm, and before long they had it “going on”.

  The arms were up, the hips were swaying, the legs started moving and they were soon using, even ‘owning’ the stage.

  “They’ve done this before.” Luke considered. Then just as he was ramping up his own head and body movements to the beat in congratulatory awe of his new friends, a hand launched itself onto his crotch. Shocked but pleased he accepted the moment but couldn’t work out from where it came. There was no one sat next to him, though a small crowd had gathered behind to watch. His “semi”, which was still recovering from the previous performance, was now rising to this occasion.

  “Clearly”, he thought, “this stage is purpose built.”

  As the girls began dancing with each other, stroking cheeks, sides, legs and ‘O.M.G.’ bottoms, a second hand joined the first and proceeded to unzip his fly.

  “Resistance would be futile, and pointless,” he thought. “If someone wants a party in my pants, they can have one”.

  Out came his cock. The fresh air was wonderful! He hadn’t done this before. Was he dreaming? The best show of his life unfolding before his eyes and the best cock in town (his) unfurling before someone else’s. The dark curtains under the stage enveloped Luke's entertainment area and things began to develop upstairs and down.

  Taking turns to “bunny dip”, “bend over”, “grind one out” and generally heat things up, the girls decided to start removing each others' evening wear, in the best possible taste and erotic’s they could muster. They had definitely done this before, and they were most certainly enjoying themselves.

  Famke stood behind Aya (who was facing Luke) and unbuttoned her blouse, bottom to top, then peeled it backwards to reveal her red bra, just as “the hands” began to stroke, ever so slowly. Famke then fell to her knees and Aya spun to face her. Her hands came round, cradling Aya's bottom, drawing crotch to face before removing Aya’s skirt, to leave her red thong, and tanned behind, on display and the crowd to drool.

  They switched places. “The hands” continued to stroke Luke, picking up purpose. It was Aya’s turn to hide behind Famke while she unzipped the bustier dress and assisted its fall to the floor. Famke was facing Luke and wriggled appropriately to make things easier. Sans bra, her breasts jiggled in time to the music. The obligatory lacey g-string was black. The crowd approved. Luke’s cock was delighted and "the hands" soldiered on.

  Aya asked the crowd if they wanted more. Of course they did. Facing each other they removed their own lingerie and then huddled around the chair with box atop, bottoms to audience, heels towering and legs together. They emerged and swiveled to Luke (and the rest) with some interesting items designed for personal entertainment of the female kind together with a bottle of baby oil.

  Aya held the bottle aloft over Famke’s boobs and as the clear, soothing, moisturizing liquid began to pour to breast, a striking warmth engulfed Luke’s 'throbbing head'. He gasped. His knob jerked and his hips involuntarily thrust forward. The oil ran all over Famke’s golden breasts, nipples, stomach and down to her close-cropped Brazilian. Aya circled her again and proceeded to massage the oil into Famke’s full frontal playground. Kissing her back, neck and bottom, she reached around and slowly ran, stroked, kneaded and pleasured her hands up and down to the amazement of all.

  Someone was in complete control of Luke, right under this performance, and had now begun sliding on and off his pole. He couldn’t see it but it felt bigger than ever. A thumb and forefinger encircled the base of his 'pole' and stroked the bottom couple of inches up and down while the 'knob end' was deliciously sucked, licked, bobbed and gorged. He was holding back an imminent orgasm but wanted to last longer. The show wasn’t over and he wanted more.

  The tables were turning up top and Famke instructed Aya onto her knees and all fours. She was side on to Luke and lowered her elbows and hair to the stage. The oil poured again. A drizzle of the naughtiest, dirtiest proportions lubed its way from the nape of her neck to the crack of her arse. She responded by writhing forwards then back again, arching into it.

  The club “Member” below was now being subjected to a full-length licking. Not the tip of the tongue kind. This was the raunchy, sloppy, ice cream version. Up and down, round and round, and all the while the little fingers kept stroking. Changing hands occasionally, and both together at times.

  The full, wet, slimy length of Luke’s “beast” was now being licked, stroked and twisted in time with the music.

  It was now Prince. “Cream”. Shaboogy!

  Famke was kneeling “doggy style” behind Aya, her hands smoothing, stroking her back, bottom and boobs symmetrically. Round the front and down the sides of her thighs then up again on the backs of her legs. She stopped, knelt up and poured more oil on her subject, right where you'd want it to go. She began to “palm” Aya’s pussy, making sure the oil was properly massaged in.

  Luke thought (as did everyone else), “It was time for a finger or two”. And there it was! "Oooohhhhhh."

  Luke’s cock was suddenly gripped tightly and engulfed in a flood of warmth again. Famke’s fingers worked their magic at, in and with Aya’s two lips. In, out, round, twist, up, down, in, out, over and over again. Aya’s cheek was on the stage. She was facing the crowd but looking at Luke with an almost pained expression of lust and joy on her face. She pursed her lips and blew him a kiss. He only just managed to stop his cum from blowing a hole in the back of "someone's" head.

  “How do they choreograph a blowjob and a show like this?” he thought. “It must be the music”.

  Two fingers were withdrawn from deep within Aya’s pussy, dripping and glistening. Famke turned to Luke, knowingly. She raised them to her own lips and licked them up and down. She kissed Aya’s bottom cheeks in turn and then retreated.

  The pumping below was replaced with warm wet bobbing once again and somebody’s tongue was playfully rolling around Luke’s ‘big end’ just toying with him, as if knowing he needed to hold back. Just a little longer.

  Aya turned to give the audience a better look at her behind. Bottom raised, she parted her legs further and then brought her hand up from underneath, cupping her pussy and hiding her puckered “ring”. She began to please herself whilst Famke sat on the chair, legs together.

  Famke picked a shiny golden 8” vibrator, turned it on and started stroking it along her thighs, then across her nipples and then into her mouth. She slid it in and then placed her hands on her knees. On the next big beat she snapped open her legs, wide, giving everyone a good look. With one hand she stroked each side of her pussy in the ‘V’ of her fingers and gently parted her labia. With the other hand she retrieved the “golden prick” from between her lips and slid it into this little pink heaven.

  This was all getting too much for Luke. He was in need of some desperate release. He adjusted himself, and the warm, obliging mouth was joined again with the finger ring at the base of his cock. Gripping, stroking, controlling and masterminding his impending relief.

  Famke eased out her “little friend”. She put it back in the box and pulled out a large, ribbed glass dildo. She swanked and sidled her way over to Aya and facing the crowd she straddled the back of Aya’s head. The crowd braced itself and Luke, who was close enough to Aya’s engorged, spread, dripping pussy to almost taste it, prepared himself for the inevitable and the exceptional.

  The sucking and bobbing on Luke’s Cock head intensified, The “Two busy little Lips” firmed up and the fingers began pumping.

  Famke leaned right forward over Ay
a’s back and now administered her still moist ‘parting fingers’ on Aya’s pussy from above. She hovered around the wet, gaping entrance momentarily while the tension in the room built further. Then looked into Luke’s eyes and bit her lip before plunging the surrogate knob in deep.

  Luke exploded! He jerked, shuddered, and writhed. His face contorted and with neck bent backwards he blinked uncontrollably for what seemed like an age.

  Slow, purposeful, knowledgeable 'milking' continued below stage as he emptied himself completely into his unknown partner’s mouth. Slow and delectably entertaining dildo fucking continued above stage to the end of the music.

  The girls finished their show, stood, smiled and took a deserved bow to Luke and the crowd.

  Luke's highly satisfied knob was tired and exhausted after its workout. It was gently and deftly returned to his trousers and patted twice as if to say “well done” or even “thank you”.

  And as Luke said before, “He distinctly remembered the best blowjob he'd ever had”.

  It's not the sort of thing you'd forget.

  Chapter 5

  The world is mine Oyster!

  Jody’s plan for a new life and a new ‘her’ worked out nicely. Not only did she get what she wanted from her chosen career but her private life improved dramatically also.

  Clearly this was no accident, as previously stated. She’d worked hard at her reincarnation.

  The holiday and travel trade made for a great opportunity for her to blossom into an outgoing, confident, capable career woman, and pro-active seeker of life and love. Her fumbling sexual exploits during school years were swiftly to become a thing of the past and as her intimate knowledge of our species increased so did her passion for its pleasures.

  But let’s get something straight. Jody was in charge. She would never let anyone get the upper hand, ever again. They might be led to believe they were the instigator, the lead character or the protagonist, but in reality that position of authority would always belong to her.