Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: s14258bc@UMASSD.EDU Subject: Stripper pt 2 Reply-To: s14258bc@UMASSD.EDU Organization: UMASS DARTMOUTH, NO. DARTMOUTH, MA. Date: Fri, 30 Oct 1992 16:50:41 GMT This is the second installation of the Stripper. If you're looking for something not so oh-so-clean, hit the 'n' key now. Otherwise, read on! Brian Colby THE STRIPPER Part 2 "No, I've got to get going..." I finally managed to stammer, and I quickly headed for the exit. The first bouncer shrugged his shoulders. "We won't stop you." said the first bouncer, as he looked toward the bar, where the bartendress, an Irish woman of 30 with fiery red hair and a dense sense of humor, was serving a drink to the Indian man. "Hey, Prescott, send 'im over here! I'll make his tongue loose!" I broke away from the two bouncers and sat on a stool near the bar. Mattie leaned over to me and said, "Hey, luv, what'll ya have? I know...you deserve the best drink Ireland has ever had to offer." She reached under the bar to retrieve a bottle of Guinness Stout, one of my favorite beverages (I didn't start drinking until I was 21, because I had an extreme intolerance for Budweiser and all its derivatives. She poured it, letting the head of the brew rush over the beer glass. I reached into my pocket, but Mattie raised her hand. "This stout is on tha house," Mattie spoke with a fine-tuned brogue that came straight from the Shannon. "You seem to be a man of taste and class. In fact, all the men I serve here....not a single pickup I've had, and I've only been here six months." I drunk deeply as she continued mopping the bar. "You looked quite scared up stage when Hannah was giving you the total tease. I wouldn't blame you..." Just about then a friendly female voice whispered beside me. "Mattie, can I have a Coke, I'm thirsty..." It was Hannah, dressed up in a policewoman's uniform, replete with hat, baton and police badge. She quickly noticed me, and grinned honestly and brightly. "Hello there! You're the person who I..." Mattie jumped in quickly; "...pleasured yourself in front of this night?" Hannah giggled, hiding her face and blushing. I took another sip of my Guinness, and I looked at her in disbelief. Hannah leaned over towards me, brushing her hair over one ear and whispered in my ear, "Come back at 11:30. I'll give you my own private show." She licked my ear, purred, and nibbled my earlobe. I was in my fifth shade of deep crimson when Mattie laughed and said, "Ooh, she *is* a tease, that Hannah! Back at 11:30, eh?" I drained my Guinness, gave Mattie a three dollar tip, and exited quickly from the club. I went to the local arcade on Jayhawk Street and played pinball. I felt some sort of weird energy that I couldn't shake, as if I wanted to split into infinite pieces and reassemble as someone else. But the ache in my groin was another thing. It actually felt tingly, pleasant and warm, and I felt quite relaxed. I entered the club at 11:24, and to my surprise, no one was there. Even Mattie the bartendress had gone, and also the two bouncers. There was pink lipstick on the Loewenbrau sign that said, COME INTO THE DRESSING ROOM. HANNAH. I searched for the star door that was the dressing room, and I found it ajar. All of the costumes that the workers used were hung neatly on hangers, while all of the lingerie was neatly stored in boxes. There was no evidence of hosiery anywhere. Hannah stepped away from the dressing room screen, still in her policewoman's costume. She grinned at me wickedly, her teeth exposed at the gumline. "I see you made it. Please, have a seat." I sat down, placing my hands beside me. I became nervous as Hannah walked around me, sometimes kissing my neck softly, other times nibbling on my earlobe. "So, you loved my act," she purred as she sucked on her finger and pressed the saliva on my lips. "Want to know why I did it?" I managed to find some word that barely resembled "yes." "I wanted to test you, to see if you reacted well. And it looks like you did. You're not the macho-male type, but the smart, sophisticated type, ne c'est pas?" Hannah gave a throaty laugh as she walked over to me, placed her tongue on my lips, and massaged the folds. I heard her black high heels drop to the floor as she took me in her arms, forcing my head to her breasts. Hannah then crouched on the floor, unbuttoning the police blouse. She wore no bra underneath. Hannah leaned back, raising her skirt to reveal black thi-hi hose with a seam in back and lace on the top. Further up, lacy black panties came to view, and they were saturated with her fluids. She then rose from her position and offered me a turgid nipple. I shook my head, not because I didn't want to, but because I'm not into one night stands. I asked her if I could give her a body massage instead. "Ooh, I would die for that! But first, I want to remove the rest of my clothes." With that, she unzippered her leather skirt, pushing it down her hips, and placing it neatly on the chair. Next, she removed the gossamer panties and placed them on the chair also. But she then leaned back again, with only her hose remaining. I rose and crouch down beside her. "There's oil over there," Hannah half-purred as she rested her head between her arms. I grabbed the coconut scented oil, applied some of it to my hands, and kept the remainder by my side. I began to feel Hannah's soft and delicious skin react to the oil. Each time I felt for a muscle that was knotted, I was able to unknot it with Hannah's approval of half-gratitude, half lust. I touched her buttocks slightly, and she quivered momentarily. When I got to her legs, Hannah suddenly turned over, and she then rubbed one stocking-clad leg against the other. "You've been doing great so far. Would you prefer I take my nylons off or leave them on?" I said, "I liked it when you took them off." Hannah pointed her foot in front of my face, asked me to hold onto it. Holding onto her slim ankle, she placed two hands on the sides of the welt and slid it down her leg. When she got to the point of the ankle, she leaned over and kissed me deeply. We did the same thing to the other leg. Hannah turned over again, and I put more oil on my hands. I massaged her legs up and down, paying attention to the back of her legs, her thighs, and her ankles. I noticed the floor was becoming soaking wet with her juices, and, to return reaction, I placed a single finger in her mons Veneris and massaged her joy button. The reaction was immediate; Hannah moaned loudly, biting her lip. I inserted the finegr in and out, harder and softer, while Hannah's nervous system went haywire with pleasure. She kept pleading me for more and more, and I gladly did. It took no more than three minutes before a cataclismic set of four climaxed wracker her body. Tears streamed from her eyes as her juices satruated the floor. "That-that w-w-w-was excellent," Hannah panted as she lay back and caught her breath. I grabbed some Kleenexes and mopped her up; she then collected me in her arms and, with a soft voice in my ear, whispered "Thank you."