1+2 @ LOL Lounge Ch. 01byRogueDom©
It wasn't New York and it wasn't L.A. but comedy is -- and always was -- a road game. I was returning to the circuit after going through a messy divorce. The call from an old friend to play a string of one-nighters across the Midwest and up into Canada came at just the right time. First gigs were several months away and I threw out my old material and started writing from scratch for the sheer joy of it. I was looking forward to the unique energy of the stand up stage and the life of a road warrior.
Comedy is about sex and I wrote about both Kafkaesque and Kraft-Ebbing experiences I had with cybersex and internet dating. I also wrote angry cathartic material about the breakup of my marriage. I found myself thinking about how delicious my wife had been to explore and train as we peeled away her inhibitions and revealed the roots of her submission. That's why it threw me for a loop when she left me for such a milquetoast guy. I guess she fell for the bulge in his hip pocket . . .
Anyway, I was looking for new adventures and turning some fantasies over in my mind. I had already posted at Literotica: In A Single Bed in New Rochelle, Laura's Needs. The piece was really just a noodling exercise under Celebrities, imagining Mary Tyler Moore frantically working her fingers in her pussy in the middle of the afternoon. At the end I threw in, almost an afterthought, an absurd tease about a dirty skipper turning an island of the castaways into slaves and cuckolds. As I say, just noodling but I introduced some themes: submissive wives, dominant single men, pathetic cuckolds, spanking, first time anal; the basic necessities of life.
Then I began to think of the incredible power of the stage and microphone -- and the fact that comedy clubs and comedy evenings are listed among the favourite dates of singles and couples. It just seemed a question of which piece of the pie to cut -- leaving room of course for a certain amount of improvisation . . .
And that's how I came to "discover" derek and shelley.
LOL Lounge is in a suburb of a Southern Ontario city. I guess you'd call it a comedy local. A guy who got burned on the circuit runs it and welcomes comedians like relatives, which means you can get a handshake and a knife in the back at the same time, but a least you'll get a few laughs. He runs a pretty fair club and his clientele are clean and conservative with a repressed subtext of suburban kinky and horny housewives.
The tour had been going well. I was loose, lean, confident and cocky, more or less a job description for me when I'm working . . .
I'll step back and dwell just a little bit on the role of chance in the plan as I had conceived it. I have always wanted to dominate a couple, my main unfulfilled fantasy in my early fifties. I'd done it several times online and loved every minute of it. I knew from chats and surfing that couples often trolled bars looking for partners. I also knew that sometimes when they were getting up their courage, they just went and looked around, she wriggled her ass and licked her lips and he hustled her out. They went home and had incredible sex fantasizing about how he would watch her fuck some of the men whose pricks they'd just teased.
Eventually, of course, someone grabbed them before they got away, plowed into her waiting wetness as he drooled helplessly, and they'd begun their journey.
That's what I wanted: to find a couple who had thought about it, were leaning toward it, quivering for it, but had not yet dared. I wanted to take their virginity --and I wanted to pick them up from the stage.
My plan was predicated on the possibility that some night, on one of the stream of one niters, such a couple would sit close to the stage, and -- here was the challenge -- that I would recognize them for what they were seeking, and engage them in my act. Basically proposition them from the stage, over the microphone. Then I would allow them to take me to their home and dominate her before his hungry eyes.
For the record, I have picked up women this way, had done so on this very tour, but a couple was kind of big game. It was my habit to hang out in the lounge before the show. I didn't drink because I don't like the way it fucks up my tongue for certain bits that I do, although I'd just smoked a joint with the other comics backstage.
They came in nervous and flushed as if slightly embarrassed. Somehow I could smell it on them. I mean I saw some couples who were horny but their eyes and their hands were for themselves. derek and shelley were very outward looking. My eyes were on shelly the minute I saw her. Her nostrils were flaring like a deer's. Her blue eyes, quite melting, were as large as saucers. Her bust, gloriously full and ripe, was probably 36 or 38 inches, with just a hint of round rich full suckable nipples poorly contained in a red form fitting dress. She was a mid forties ash blonde with her hair tied up over her head but so long it still kind of cascaded down to her shoulder's like Barbara Eden in I Dream of Jeanie. Similar nose and mouth come to think of it, but with a kind of milk fed, small town Canadian innocence. Just faintly panting with the hint of an overbite. . . Oh, and her ass, round and full and restless.
derek was suited, looked like a blow dried real estate guy which he was. And the expression on his face was: "please don't take her away from me, please don't take her away from me . . . but if you do, uh, I'll get hard as a banker's stare and blow a load in my fruit-of-the-looms . . ."
I watched him usher her self consciously and nervously to a seat, her ass and exposed shoulders a mouth watering target in the soft light of the LOL Lounge. As shelley surveyed the room, her saucer eyes were Little Red Riding Hood's hungrily peeking around the bushes looking for wolves. She wasn't wearing an ankle bracelet but she was wearing hard nipples.
I shifted my position at the bar to appear in her next glance, caught her eye and held it as if I'd reached out and taken her by the nipple. Her lips parted, she caught her breath and heaved her bosom, and she blinked like a deer in the headlights. derek lurked and skulked in her reflected glow.
I raised my glass to her with a lazy, horny, dangerous, acquisitive, dominant grin. She shuddered and smiled a radiant, glowing, full lipped, white-teethed, suburban smile.
I drank to her as if my tonic and lime tasted like her juices, as indeed it did.
Then I turned on my heel.
I wanted to run over some of my "special material" before I took the stage . . .
. . . And shelley and derek.
END OF PART ONE