I watched her closely as she stood at the front of the little stage looking out into the audience. The stage was less than eighteen inches higher than the small dance floor in front of it. There were no more than ten tables, each with two double wide comfortable chairs, that might even be classed as divans or love seats. All were occupied by couples, nestling down into the deep and soft upholstery. My being here was the result of Tom and his son’s skateboard. But I am getting ahead of my story.
The lights had dimmed right after the girl had climbed the three steps onto the stage platform. All conversation had stopped and the small room was quietly and patiently waiting. The atmosphere was filled with promises of another intimate show. What or who or how or when was never announced beforehand, which made for a truly unique performance each night.
I found myself sitting in the shadows at the back wall, which was fine with me. Heck, just being here in this super exclusive club was almost a miracle. My wife and I had reserved this night to go dancing and bar hopping and she had metamorphosed herself into a cross between a society lady and a closet slut. She was not just attractive; she was the quintessence of the fusion of femininity and blatant sexuality. She knew what she was doing and she feasted on the admiration of the men in her vicinity as well as the envious looks of some of her less blessed sisters.
My wife Liolani and I had met on Maui where I had been sent to supervise the installation of a new generating system. She was, as she had laughingly told me, a history child. Her genes reflected, in a small way, the ethnic diversity of her island. She claimed that there was some Hawaiian, some Chinese, some Portuguese, and some Dutch in her. Those he was sure of, but there might be others, she had told me. The mixture had produced an exotic beauty with skin just a tad darker than most Europeans. Her dark eyes had a slight almond shape, a hint of the Oriental, and were one of her attributes that earned her the nickname I had given her while we dated. Let me tell you about that.
The people of Maui are extraordinarily proud of their Island, and rightfully so. You can hear them often exclaim that MAUI NO KA OI, which is Hawaiian and means ‘There s nothing better than Maui’. One day we were standing under the huge Bunyan tree in Lahaina when I laughingly paraphrased the saying and told her that LIOLANI NO KA OI. I later on shortened that to KA OI, and then to just KOI. While I liked her musical name Liolani and used it often, it seemed easier and faster to call her Koi. And believe me, while this sounds exactly like c-o-y, the c-o-y word does not apply to her.
The night I will be telling you abut started innocent enough. Liolani and I were walking to the door leading into the garage when the main door bell rang. It was Jimmy, the son of our good friend Tom. He handed me an envelope on which was a scribbled message. Jimmy told me that his dad had instructed Jimmy to make sure that we understood that we were not to open the envelope until we were at least ten miles from the house. I thanked Jimmy and rushed back into the garage, anxious to start our evening. We honored Tom’s request and waited until we had driven about 15 minutes.
“My God,” exclaimed my wife,” Tom broke his right leg trying out Jimmy’s new skateboard.” She tore open the envelope and found two tickets for the Club Venus, plus another message. It just told us to enjoy the show. He was sorry he could not go but hoped we would tell him why this club was so exclusive and how we liked the show. He had been given the tickets two days before by his CEO as a special bonus for snaring an important account for the firm. As a whimsical post script he asked my wife to think of something outrages to make the evening more memorable.
We were rounding the last corner before the club when she turned to me with a cattish smile to inform me that she had just wiggled out of her panties and that she would be bare bottom tonight. She had done that before on two occasions and it had turned her on tremendously then, especially since she at both times had worn a miniskirt. It would not be that daring tonight since she had decided on a smart black cocktail skirt, which came down to just above her knee.
This had been a good choice since most people at the club were dressed more sedately than we normally dressed when bar hopping. We walked up to the small bar and ordered our drinks, then got acquainted with the couple who shared our table. They were in their early fifties but acted more like our age, more like early thirty, down to their tastes of music, we found out. They were regulars and proceeded to tell us about the club.
You never know, they told us, what will happen. It might be a risqué skit, it might be one act of Shakespeare’s Falstaff, or a sex show, or a quartet of artists unentertaining with their creations. But the events were always interesting and in good taste.
Our chairs, love seats, divans, were at the back wall. But since the establishment was relatively small one still felt connected with whatever happened on the small stage. There was not space enough for a band, so music was piped in. However, I noticed a large ensemble of drums and cymbals in a corner next to the stage. A very good looking young fellow with a terrific physique was busy making adjustments and I assumed that he was the drummer, But what kind of music can one play on an ensemble solely consisting of percussion instruments I wondered. I would find out to my delight.
Punctually at eight we were reminded by a drum roll that the entertainment would start shortly and everyone returned to their places. A gorgeous lady in a flowing dark purple dress that swept the floor, arrived from somewhere backstage and announced tonight’s program. I will refrain from describing the program; it was a wonderful mélange. The evening would then conclude with some kind of game but no explanation was forthcoming.
The show started with a poet reading some of his poetry, which I liked very much. It was an unusual opening act, unusual I felt for a club that, I had heard, was way off the mainstream, mostly presenting entertainment appealing to the more prurient tastes. His poetry was both funny as well as sexually titillating. It brought forth a lot of female giggling, which made it quite clear that at least the ladies appreciated the poet’s works.
I also noticed that my wife appreciated the looks of the stage hand in the right corner of the stage who supplied props like the stool for the poet. He was a tall, wide shouldered man in his mid thirties it seemed. His bare chest showed off his splendid physic. Must be Hawaiian whispered Liolani to me. He had been introduced at the beginning of the evening as Halako, which I promptly shortened to Al in my mind.
The last number before the “game” was a flamenco dance by a colorfully dressed Latina. The way it was presented was both artistic as well as highly erotic. I noticed my wife next to me crossing and uncrossing her legs. It must be the color and the movements that made her fidgety, I reasoned, it could not be the dancer. But then I noticed that her attention was not all centered on the dancer, her eyes kept straying to the drummer. He did manage to play music on his drums, a subtle accompaniment mostly but sometimes bursting into a joyous celebration of raw lust; always completely in tune with the dance. I did not mind the least If my sweetheart enjoyed some fantasies involving the drummer.
There was another fifteen minute recess after the flamenco, after which we would be treated to the “game”. A drum roll called everyone back to their seats and I could almost physically feel the audience’s excitement.
The lady MC glided back onto the stage and waited until all conversation had ceased and everyone’s attention was focused on her. “We have a high stakes game ahead,” she announced with a big smile. “For this we need a volunteer, either a lady or a man.” When no one stepped forward she told us that she would select some lucky person by asking a few questions.
“Here is my first question. Is there a lady in the house who tonight goes without panties?” she asked. No one answered, so I took my wife’s arm and raised it high. When the MC noticed my wife’s raised arm she clapped her hands. Her “We have a winner,” brought forth a big round of applause during which she stepped off the stage, carefully raising her dress slightly. When she arrived at our table she studied my wife for a moment, then she looked at me as if assessing what kind of reaction I would have to my wife being the winner. It was obvious that the winner was going to be the center piece of the “game’.
She took my wife by the hand, pulled her up and introduced herself as Jennifer and congratulated my wife. Then the MC took my wife’s hand and gently led her up onto the stage.
The lights in the club started to dim, except for the circle of a spot light focused on the two women standing in the center of the stage. Jennifer again took my wife’s hand and gently pulled her to the front.
I should tell you that my wife is considered a natural beauty. Except for some eye liner and some eye shadow, she never wears any make-up. It isn’t needed. I always wondered what other men considered her best assets; her petite, slender figure, her slightly tanned soft skin, her smiling, challenging dark eyes, or her coal black long hair that she wears in many artistic ways?
As I watched her standing at the edge of the tiny stage I could see in her face displayed several emotions tumbling through her. There was curiosity, there was exhibitionist enjoyment of being allowed to display herself to the watching audience, but there was also a slight apprehension about what was to come next.
“The rules are simple,” explained the lady MC. “Anyone in the audience may make a request of Jessica, accompanied by a bid of no less than twenty dollars. Before Jessica makes her move another bidder for the same or a higher bid may claim that Jessica will not comply. The loser will have to deposit the amount of the higher of the two bids in this box we will bring to your table.”
What came next was a definite relief for my girl; I could see it in her face. “I would like to introduce you to our guests, but I forgot to ask for your name.” The tone in the MC’s voice made this a question, not a statement. My wife tuned to her and answered: “My name is Jessica.” “No. no,” said the MC “An actor speaks directly to the audience. Go and face them and introduce yourself.”
My sweetheart turned to look into the darkened room and with a clear and confident voice announced: “My name is Jessica.” I knew then that she had herself in control.
Any apprehension she had had was gone, replaced with the knowledge that she could handle any stimulation that might be coming her way.
The lady MC turned to Jessica, hugged her, and told her in a stage whisper for everyone to hear that she would probably wind up a rich girl at the end of the game. Then she stepped away three steps, leaving Jessica as the sole player on stage.
There was a minor, low volume drum roll and the MC asked for the first bid.
“20 dollars for her panties.”
“Forty says she won’t hand them over. No woman gives her panties to a strange man,” was the bid answer. “Anyway, she came without panties.”
The first bidder spoke up again: “do you have your panties with you and will you give them to me?”
“Yes to both questions. My husband has them in his pocket and you are welcome to them.” She turned her head to look in my direction and asked me ho hand her panties over to the gentleman who had won the bid. I don’t believe I answered her. She wouldn’t have been able to hear it anyway over the laughter that had exploded.
The money box was presented to the loser and Jessica was forty dollars richer. I could see and feel her enjoyment of the game. Her enthusiasm promised a great game.
The panty man now bid forty for her bra. Loser man bid fifty that she would not hand over my bra. “Or will you,” he inquired.
“I am not wearing a bra, I hardly ever do,” Jessica informed him.
The box received fifty dollars. The next voice startled Jessica a bit.
“I don’t believe it until she proves it,” said the voice. “She is too well proportioned not to have some help or support. Open your blouse and show us. It’s worth a bid of sixty.”
She immediately unbuttoned her blouse. I knew she would, she is immensely proud of her figure, especially her tits. She pilled her blouse back to display her two assets. I think I even detected her straightening up her torso further to really make her tits stand out.
The bid was hardly paid when someone suggested she drop her blouse altogether for sixty. A second bid followed immediately with a “I don’t think she will. And I raise it to eighty.” This was a challenge that Jessica could not let go unanswered. She lost no time, removed her blouse and handed it to the MC. This brought forth a round of applause plus some intricate play on the drums that were an obvious musical “Thank you”.
Te bid was paid and I could hear a babble of low voices in the audiences. It was obvious what would be asked of her next. But before anyone could call for the inevitable next action a booming voice to my right asked Jessica to turn around and show her backside. The booming voice bid fifty. No one entered a second bid and Jessica finally turned.
The buzz of voices went up a notch till somebody asked Jessica to drop her skirt for one hundred. Someone else decided that she would not do that and bid one hundred and fifty. I was not sure myself if Jessica would comply or throw in the towel and quit, although that would normally not be her way. So I was not really surprised when there was just a slight moment of hesitation before her skirt fell to the floor of the stage. This brought another round of applause, and another musical drum solo.
What next, I mused. I did not have long to wait. Someone bid two hundred for her to turn and face the audience. This was answered with a challenge of three hundred. I could image her thoughts at that moment. The first would be a NO WAY. But then her fighting spirit would take over, saying I WILL SHOW YOU. She must have thought exactly as I was sure she would; she decided to go further. It was her way of saying I AM TOUGHER THAN YOU THINK. She slowly raised her arms and started turning. By the time she fully faced them she had both hands behind her head, displaying herself in an act of defiance. She mocked and dared the audience. I was so proud of her.
Her freshly shaved pussy sported a small triangle of pubic hair pointing to her prominent clit. Then I noticed something new. Above the triangle was a red tattoo which simply said CAUTION. I wondered when she had done that, or if it really was a true tattoo. I would have to find out later tonight.
The applause was deafening. Everyone understood her gesture. She kept her face as serene as she could, only the hint of a smile of victory showing. The drummer summoned his ensemble to add a triumphant I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SAYING, BABE to the general noise.
Jessica held her pose for maybe ten seconds, and then lowered them again to her side. As the applause finally died down she turned to Al and challenged him to do what she had done. If she expected him to meekly shake his head NO, she was mistaken. He met her challenge without hesitation and it turned out that he did not wear anything yonder his trouser, either. There were many AAHs and OOOHs from the female guests, and also some WHOAs from some males. He had looked great just bare chested, but filly nude he was magnificent. Much later, after we had become good friends, I found out that he was the son of a Samoan minor chief. Looking back at Jessica I began to wonder if she was drooling, and then decided that she certainly was.
Finally the hubbub died and a lady’s voice instructed Jessica to French kiss this hunk for no less than thirty seconds. This was a two hundred dollar bid and it went unchallenged.
Jwssica did not wait for Al’s reaction. She took three steps to stand in front of him, put both arms around his neck and started kissing him fiercely. She seemed more turned on than I had thought. Halfway into her kiss she let her right hand nonchalantly fall so that it landed on his prick. She is a master at awakening this part of a man’s anatomy and it became obvious to everyone after only a few moments that she really was a master. Inside I chuckled, she would have kissed and fondled Al without a two hundred dollar inducement, but there was more to come.
We want to see your pretty buns urged a male voice who bid one hundred for this privilege. He had no takers, either. By now the audience knew that Jessica could handle about every challenge coming her way. Al turned her to face away from the room and she obediently bent over giving everyone a thorough view of her charms. After maybe six, seven seconds Al announced that they had seen enough, and he was screening her from further ogling,
by shading her with his very own body. As he stepped behind her I could hear him telling her that he was going to reward her for a super performance.
A woman in the audience cried out at Jessica REACH BACK AND PUT IT IN. She added that she bet five hundred so please don’t disappoint me. Jessica is a kindhearted wench and I was certain that she could not bear the thought of disappointing this friendly lady. She obeyed at once. Al made a few moves to which Jessica answered with a rasping AAAAH. The five hundred dollar voice came on again to urge Jessica to turn so that they were sideways to the audience. This way the event could be enjoyed by all.
Al moved one strong arm under the bent over girl, lifted her off her feet and deposited her near the front of the stage so that they were sideways to the audience. Jessica was so hot she probably did not know any more where she was, and if she was aware of her surroundings she wouldn’t care. She was in a world of her own and nothing else mattered except the wonderful feeling that started in her pussy and from there radiated into every pore of her body. At first her arms were hanging lifeless but soon her hands moved to her tits. She alternated between teasing her nipples and squeezing and kneading her tits. Her mouth was wide open and her labored breathing could be heard even in the back where I was sitting.
As I looked around me I noticed that many small hands had sneaked under the hem of dresses or had wandered to the pants next to them. All the while the action was underscored with whimpers from Jessica, interrupted from time to time by strangled screams and moans. Suddenly I became aware of a sensuous drumbeat that imitated and magnified Jessica’s vocalizations in perfect harmony. When the drums stopped I looked over and saw the young drummer climb onto the stage and inch forward till he stood next to the lady MC, not more that three feet away from Al and Jessica.
Ten seconds passed and someone called out a five hundred dollar bid for Jessica to give the young fellow a blow job. He did not wait for any encouragement from her and stepped right up to her face. By this time he had sprouted an erection that Jessica could not overlook. Her right hand reached out to encircle his prick and pull it closer so she could tongue it lovingly before she directed it into her mouth and began to suck on it, moving her lips up and down the boy’s dick.
I could sense Jessica’s climax approaching and saw her increasing her efforts on the drummer’s prick in her mouth. He came first with the all the energy of youth. Jessica swallowed until the limp dick plopped out of her mouth. Suddenly her body arched and starting with little shrieks she built up to a wild crescendo of sounds as her climax shook her. She climaxed again and again until she finally was so exhausted that I was afraid her legs would buckle under her. Al must have felt it also because he pulled out, and then turned Jessica to face him. He stroked her face tenderly and then kissed for almost a half a minute. Suddenly she remembered what I had taught her; take care of the instrument that pleasured you. She went down to kneel in front of Al and started on what she likes to do. She gave him the blowjob of his life; looking up to him all the while she was pleasuring him. When he at last exploded in her mouth I watched her swallowing his come as she had swallowed the drummer’s.
The young fellow had returned to his corner and had accompanied Al when Al had shuddered to his climax. The audience was still, there was a hush in the room as Al tenderly picked up Jessica. She slung her arms around his neck and buried her face on his chest. There was not a whisper to be heard from the audience as Al carried his sweet load backstage. The only sound was a sweet and low volume song from the drums as they said their good-bye.
(The next three Jessica series are: Jessica does Tricks, Jessica Returns from Europe, Jessica Surprises Herself)
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