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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Jessica And The Game
by Silver Dragon (silver-dragon@bookandpoems.com)
***
A young couple get tickets to inter a special Club. The
wife wins a chance for money and is lured into
undressing and performing on stage. (MF, wife, exh,
oral)
***
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 situation 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 her 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 imagine 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 her arms 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.
Jessica 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 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.
END
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 62