Claire's Career Ch. 02

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Claire's career takes a new turn.
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 10/30/2006
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Calandria
Calandria
341 Followers

My career on the 'alternative' catwalks of Paris was always exciting, but not much more so than my personal life, with Robert, who indulged my taste for showing off my body, and didn't mind a bit that I myself enjoyed nothing better than the knowledge that a stranger had been treated to a view of my shaven pussy, or, better still, that I had made love with him – or someone else – in a public place.

We took to inviting Ti-Liu, the little Asian girl from our office, to our house-parties. She was agile and inventive, and Robert loved to have me masturbate him while we watched Ti-Liu and his servant Lily making love together.

Then one day, Robert said to me, 'I've been talking to my father, and he thinks the time is right to open a new type of Club. The people who come to our shows are demanding more and more, and are no longer satisfied with just looking at pussy – they want to see live sex, and some variety.'

I must have looked doubtful, because he laughed lightly and went on, 'Don't worry, we shall vet our clients very carefully. The new club must be very exclusive. After all, it won't be the first one in Paris, I assure you – but it will certainly be the best.'

'And who do you think will take part in these shows?' I asked.

'I thought we should ask the blonde, Cecile, Nadine, and perhaps Ti-Liu and Giselle, but I have no doubt as to whom I want to be the star.'

'Oh no!' I said, 'being fucked on stage? I draw the line at that.'

'But I haven't yet told you who the studs will be, have I?'

'It doesn't matter, I couldn't fake orgasms on stage – and they'd have to be fake; no way could I cum with an audience.'

'I'll tell you what,' he said, 'I'll come to a compromise – how about you do a strip and warm up the guys for the other girls? Could you cope with something like that?'

'We'll see,' was all I would say, and I never asked him what he had meant by 'variety.'

During the next weeks, we acquired a lovely old mansion near Versailles, and a lot of conversion work went ahead with great speed. Staff was trained, and Robert and I spent most of our time at the new Club. His father, Roger, was a frequent visitor. During that time, I met the two 'studs.' One was a huge black guy, Paul, who was distantly related to Nadine, and the other an athletic-looking blond Ukranian called Sergei, who spoke minimal French and no English at all. I had to agree with Robert that they were a fine pair of specimens, but then I asked him if he didn't fancy getting involved in the action himself. 'I may, sometimes,' he replied, 'but I'll keep my options open.'

We opened in front of an invited audience, on a cold November evening. When I glanced out at the cars arriving, there was a stream of Mercedes, BMW's and the like, and the people coming in through the plush foyer might have been arriving for an evening at the opera, well-dressed, with a preponderance of men, though many escorted by women, often young and beautiful ones, too.

Once the forty of fifty people were seated in the auditorium, all on plush sofas, with low mahogany tables in front of them, the blue velvet curtains parted for the show to begin, and Roger came on to make a short welcoming speech.

I was nervous, waiting in the wings. Although I had faced the public in the erotic fashion shows many times by now, I had never actually done a striptease, as such. I was both frightened and thrilled by the prospect.

In keeping with the evening, I was 'dressed up,' in a long evening gown of black velvet with long gloves. For the first number, 'A Whiter Shade of Pale,' I gyrated around as sexily as I knew how, running my hands around my body, without removing anything but my gloves, which I did as artfully as I could. Then the music changed to 'Tiene que Marchar' and I reached behind me, and unzipped my dress, revealing my stark nakedness in contrast to the black dress. I had deliberately worn no underwear, to create the impact. I eased the dress off my shoulders, and thee tension was building as I let it bunch around my hips, cupping my breasts, and making a great play of kneading them, and tweaking my nipples between thumb and forefinger. When the music changed again, this time to 'Je t'aime, moi non plus' I pushed the dress down over my hips and stood naked but for my stilettos. I sat on an upholstered stool centre stage, and faced the audience, smiling, my hand covering my shaven pussy. Then I simply, and, I hope gracefully, to the music, whisked my hand away, and opened my legs wide.

A ripple of applause grew, as I put two fingers of my right hand between my legs, and parted my labia, showing all and sundry the damp pinkness of my cunt.

Then I stood, and that was a signal for Sergei to enter from the wings. He came striding in dressed in a long brocade robe, and I had to say he looked magnificent, his broad shoulders and narrow hips making him look like a Greek God.

The music changed again. This time to a stronger beat, something I didn't recognise, and I did as I had been told, and put my hands on his shoulders, whereupon he bent down and kissed me. In spite of myself, I felt a little tremor of excitement, knowing what I was about to do.

Slowly, for the audience's benefit, I parted his robe, and found his flaccid cock, already large and heavy in my hand. I looked into his eyes, and saw a gleam in them as I stroked life into him, then dropped to my knees, and took him straight into my mouth, while he seized my hair with both hands. I looked up at him as I sucked him, taking him all the way into my throat, and the audience was now applauding wildly. He was rock-hard, massive, in moments.

As the music faded, Nadine strutted on to the stage, her black skin contrasting with white half-bra, garter-belt and stockings. It was my signal to exit, and share the applause with her. As she reached Sergei, she imperiously whisked away his robe, while I watched from the darkness of the wings, a wrap thrown around me by Robert. Sergei sat on the stool I had vacated, facing the audience, a slight smile on his handsome face, toying with his erection, as Nadine came around in front of him, straddling him with her long black, white-stockinged legs, also facing the audience, and writhing slowly to the music as she lowered herself with infinite slowness onto his waiting phallus. The audience let forth an audible intake of breath as she impaled herself on his cock, her cavernous, hungry cunt swallowing even his prodigious tool with comfort. She rode him, crying out with each stroke, but I knew that was for the audience's benefit, as was the subtly added sound-track, of little squelching noises, running along with the music.

But, in spite of myself, I was getting quite excited watching the spectacle, and Robert, behind me, knew it, just by the feel of my hardening nipples.

'They're not bad, are they?' he said, rhetorically, as Nadine went into the last phase of her routine, and climbing off the Ukranian's lap, knelt beside him, and took him in her lips. She pumped him with her hand, her lips just at his crown, and his facial expression showed that he was close to climax.

I switched my gaze to the audience, and saw, although it was not easy to see anything in the gloom out there, that many of the couples present were embracing in one way or another – it looked as if the show was a success in that respect, at least.

Sergei was now heard to utter one of his few phrases off French, 'j'arrive!' and Nadine let him shoot his load of creamy cum all over her face. The white cum contrasted well with her black face under the lights, I thought. The curtain came down to great applause.

After an interval of about a quarter of an hour, Robert said, 'OK, girls, positions, please!'

I wasn't to be involved in this one, so went around and sat at a spare table off to one side, to watch. The stripper this time was the blonde Giselle, a tall, voluptuous girl, with heavy breasts, but a narrow waist.

She had dressed in a white whale-boned corset which enhanced her curves still more, and revealed it when, at the first change off music, she took off her short red velvet dress. Then her breasts stood out proudly above the cruel corset, which also had the effect of thrusting out her buttocks. She came to the edge of the stage and invited one of the audience to untie the bows on her panties. When the white-haired gentleman had done so, she leaned over and put a nipple in his mouth, to much enthusiastic applause. She wore extravagantly high heels now, but nothing else, other than the corset, and, as the music changed, Paul entered, stark naked, impressive, I thought, as hell. What a body! He could have been an Olympic sprinter, it was said, but for an unfortunate tendon injury, and I believed it. Giselle sidled up to him, walking around him, as if to appraise his body, and I now saw why she had been chosen. Again the contrast of her blonde hair and white corset against his black beauty – it was highly effective. She came up to him and took his hand, pulling it straight to her pussy, and pressing it there, meanwhile rubbing her tits around his body. His enormous prick immediately started to show signs of life, and she seized it, then dropped to her knees, making sure they were centre-stage, and took him in her mouth. She gave him a terrific blow-job, alternately sucking and licking, massaging his huge balls as she went. But then the music changed, and she took her bow, again to much applause. I was just wondering if this was going to be a bit of a 'repeat' of what our previous performance had been, when Cecile allayed my fears. Cecile was another blonde, but slimmer, almost like a fashion-model. I didn't know her too well, but she had a reputation for being very sexy, and I was to see why.

She came on stage in a fishnet cat-suit, rather like ones we had worn at some of our erotic fashion shows. It covered her all over, from her neck to her feet, but when she sat on the stool, and threw her legs wide apart, she revealed that the crotch was entirely open. She fingered herself, while Paul massaged her firm tits through the mesh of her suit, then she pushed him roughly away from her, and did an abrupt about-turn, so that she was now kneeling, with her breasts on the stool. She parted her knees, and, reaching behind her with both hands, pulled her arse-cheeks wide apart. The audience gave a collective gasp, and the music swelled, as she showed the wide, dark cavern of a well-used arsehole!

Paul knew his role, and, needing no lubricant, he rammed his huge cock right into her waiting rectum. I was dripping wet by now – I had no idea that Cecile was going to be taken like this, and could hardly wait for my own turn. I had only had anal sex on one fairly unsuccessful occasion, a long time ago, and was now fairly bursting for Robert to do it with me.

Paul shafted Cecile brutally, and she screamed, probably mainly for the audience, until he pulled out and came copiously across her back. The curtain came down to tumultuous applause.

After another, longer interval, Robert asked me how I thought it had gone, so far. I said I thought it was very good.

'Good,' he said, 'but you know what I said about variety?'

'I thought we'd already had that.'

'Some,' he said, 'but Ti-Liu wants to try something else.'

'Something else?'

'Yes, she wants you to whip her.'

'But I'm not into that sort of thing,' I protested.

'It's only for the show,' he said, spreading his arms wide, 'besides, it's what she wants, and who knows, you may enjoy it.'

After the episode with Cecile, I was, in truth, ready for anything, so I found myself in the wings again, dressed in a black leather, crotchless cat-suit and spiky boots. I carried a leather flogger. Ti-Liu was dressed in a long white silk gown, was barefoot, and had her wrists and ankles shackled. Sergei, who claimed to have recovered, was dressed in a black monk's cowelled robe.

When a Georgian chant started up, we trooped on stage, as the curtain came up on a scene with a St. Andrew's Cross prominent in centre stage, snap-links at its extremities, and a low couch.

I acted around a bit, and had Ti-Liu get down on all fours and kiss my naked pussy (which I found myself actually enjoying quite a lot) Then I undid the clasps at her shoulders and her dress fell to the floor. I swished my whip theatrically, and Sergei responded by clipping Ti-Liu's wrists and ankles to the cross, her back to the audience. I stood back and swung the flogger around with more show than force, and brought it down across her back.

'Harder,' she whispered, 'hurt me!'

I didn't want to hurt her, my sweet friend, but she was asking me to, and I knew she meant it. I lashed her a bit harder, and a slight reddening appeared.

'Much harder, Claire,' she pleaded, under cover of the music, and I laid about her with all the force I could muster, until she moaned with……with what? Pain, pleasure? I wasn't sure. After a few more strokes, with the audience now roaring, I told Sergei to take her down, he did so, and then laid her across the couch, and penetrated her instantly, driving his shaft into her as she moaned with all the intensity of someone who knows real desire. It was a lifelike performance, I thought, as I left the scene to much applause.

'Well, what did you think to our first night,' said Robert, on our way home.

'Just get me home and fuck me, will you,' I said.

Calandria
Calandria
341 Followers
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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
it just feels so impersonal...

..I know it is a narrative but there just seems to be a distance between the narrator and the events, as it has a certain coldness and lack of feelings. Where has the warmth gone in the sex? It is mechanical, not passionate.

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Claire's Career Previous Part

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