Desperately Seeking Solution

A few half-joked about whether I gave lap dances at private parties like this. I mentioned it to Uncle Bob privately, as we had never discussed that. He said if I wanted to, it was fine with him; he didn't see a problem. I wondered how that would work and how I would be paid.

When it was time to start, I went into the bathroom to change. I wore some layers so I would have things to take off. I opted for a slightly formal look for my initial entrance: a skirt and blouse with a scarf. Underneath, I wore a pseudo corset, stockings with garters, panties, heels, a matching tiny string bikini top, and a thong under my panties that barely covered my vulva. 

The music played, and I walked the room like a guest, nodding and greeting the men. About half the men sat on sofas and chairs, and the others stood. Then I swirled into the center of the room and pulled off my scarf as I spun around. I looped it around the neck of one of the men sitting in a chair and pulled him into my chest, which I shimmied in his face. The others laughed and clapped; the man beamed with pleasure.

I then danced around as I unbuttoned my blouse, playing with opening and closing it. Next, I shifted it off my shoulders and, looking back at the men, dropped it into the lap of one of the guys. Unzipping my skirt next, I let it fall to the floor and kicked it up towards a standing man who caught it, smiling. At that point, I wore my black corset, garters, stockings, panties, and heels.

The men cheered with each zip, drop, swirl, and wink. I undid the corset and tossed it to the floor. In my string bikini top, knickers, and stockings, I took a while to circle the room, caressing the men's faces or heads, sometimes pulling a seated man into my boobs and wobbling them in his face—a classic stripper move. 

I swung my legs over one man sitting on a chair, on his lap facing him, and gyrated my pelvis against his crotch. A warm wave of pleasure rippled through me as I felt a hardening and bulge pressing back almost immediately.

Next, I slipped my panties down—leaving just my thong—and flicked them up and caught them in my hand; I strutted up to a standing man and placed my panties on his head like a hat. Everyone laughed and clapped—the guy grinned, took them off, and sniffed them deeply, giving a big exaggerated sigh of pleasure. 

I removed my heels and bent at the waist with straight legs to arrange them carefully by the fireplace; I took longer to let the men see my bum. Then, wearing only my stockings and my tiny string top and thong, I turned slowly around in place, my hands over my head and hips swaying. I felt sexy and attractive and loved that all these men were avidly watching me, hoping and anticipating seeing more of my body.

I pondered whether it was better to remove my stockings, stripper style (slowly rolling them down my legs), or leave them on so I would end up nude with stockings, like a nudie magazine model. I opted to slip them off because it made more of a show. I rolled each down. The first was in the middle of the room, bending my knees and leaning forward. For the second one, I placed my foot on the arm of a sofa, so the guy sitting there could watch my leg and stare right into my barely covered pussy.

Wearing just my string micro bikini, I took a while to dance, swivel hips, undulate, shimmy, and move from man to man, brushing his face, arms, and crotch. Finally, I went to a seated man and offered the end of my bikini top string to his mouth; he held it in his teeth as I slowly leaned away, which untied the top and let it fall open, exposing my bare breasts. I pulled it off and let it fall to the floor. 

I stood momentarily and let everyone look at my full perky boobs, dark pink silver-dollar-sized areolae, and erect nipples; my slightly wavy auburn hair reached down just below my boobs, tickling and framing my nipples as I moved. 

I turned slowly in place again, then circled the room of men again. I brushed my hard nipples on some of the men's cheeks or noses and over several men's lips, pulling away just as some tried to lick or kiss them. A couple of them were a bit too quick for me and made contact with their tongues.

My string thong was last. I stood in the center of the room and slowly lowered it, revealing my patch of closely-trimmed pubes first, then my bare labia. My arousal was evident by the glistening moisture clinging to my lips. I twirled the tiny thong and tossed it to my Uncle Bob, who caught it with a flush of embarrassment. 

Fully naked, I circled my hips and ran my hands all over my body—boobs, belly, butt, legs, and pussy; I swiveled, turned, and strutted around the room. I approached some men, stood behind them, pressed my naked body against their backs, and wrapped my arms around their chest or belly. I ground my pelvis into them as if humping them from the back. I gave some of them a quick squeeze of their hard dicks through their pants.

I dropped onto my hands and knees in the center, swayed my hips, and arched my back so my pussy would peek out from behind. Then I stretched my pelvis upward into a "downward facing dog" yoga pose: an inverted "V" on my hands and feet with my ass at the top, high in the air. Next, I rolled onto my back, and with my ankles crossed and knees bent, I swirled my feet in circles, which I'd seen many strippers do. 

Finally, I duplicated the explicit pose I'd done for my Uncle Bob at the club. Lying on my back with legs straight up perpendicular to the floor, I slowly opened my legs to the outside, into side splits, and pressed down on my thighs. 

I knew how open, vulnerable, and exposed I was—I had practiced the position and taken photos to see what they saw. I knew my wavy inner pussy lips were peeled open and showing my inner pinkness, my clit was erect and peeking out from under its hood, and my vaginal juices would cause my whole pussy to sparkle in the light. The men in the room moved forward as if being drawn in by a magnetic force and watched with arousal as my pussy split wide open and greeted their hungry eyes.

I was unsure if they could see how wet I was, but I certainly felt it. I was incredibly turned on by being on display in front of a room full of men. The fact they all were more than twice my age didn't matter to me. I reached down, as I had with Uncle Bob, ran my finger along my slit, and gathered pussy juices; my pussy quivered at my touch. Then I lifted my glistening finger into the light, slipped it between my lips, and sucked it clean. I was feeling naughty, sexy, and confident.

The watchers clapped and called out how sexy I was, how inviting my pussy was, and how they wished they could have a taste. I smiled, dropped my legs, and rocked up to sit, leaving my legs in a relaxed open "V" on the floor. I smiled in response to the delighted faces surrounding me, then cupped and jiggled my breasts. I had so much fun and loved the charged atmosphere of appreciation and eroticism.

Just as I was about to get up, I felt a hand on my leg. Startled, I saw one of the men kneeling next to me, looking at me with raised eyebrows in a "may I" expression. I paused, unsure, then bit my lip and simply smiled, and leaned back on my straight arms, chest high with boobs pressed forward. 

The man took my reaction as a "go ahead" signal. He started caressing my inner thighs, tickling the bottom of my labia. Several more hands joined his, stroking my legs, belly, boobs, and arms; then someone cupped my pussy—which caused me to start but not complain. This is all definitely a no-no at the club. I smiled inwardly at the thought.

Instead of stopping the usually forbidden contact, I rolled back onto my back, stretched out with my legs slightly open, and let five or six men touch and caress me. Not grope, nab, and grab, but gently explore, tickle, and caress my naked body. It felt wonderful, and I relished the sensations. I felt like a queen being pampered by her male harem. Fantasy images of being taken by many men flooded my mind: men worshipping me with their cocks, and tongues, and hands, and fingers. I was getting dangerously horny.

After a minute or so, reality clicked back in, and I sat up. "Ok, guys, show's over now."

Several men groaned in protest. "No, give us more, please. Don't stop now. You're so hot." But they were perfect gentlemen and let me stand without constraint.

I smiled, walked to the bar, and poured myself a glass of water. I stood naked against the bar, drank water, and smiled. I could see my reflection in a glass door leading out to the pool; my darker trimmed triangle of pubic hair above my bare labia stood out in contrast to my lighter skin, above well-toned legs, and below a flat belly. My boobs were firm and compact, with areolae and nipples dark enough to be clearly defined. My Uncle Bob gave me a big smile and a thumbs-up sign from across the room.

A couple men came over and chatted with me as if talking to a nude woman at a party while fully dressed was commonplace in their world. Others started to mingle among themselves now that the show was over. I received nothing but wonderful compliments the whole night.

I started to excuse myself, thinking it was time to get dressed, but a movement caught my attention. A man was sitting on a chair, holding up and gently waving what looked like two fifty-dollar bills, a look of inquiry on his face. It took a moment for me to register that he was soliciting a lap dance, just like at the club. 

I looked at the man, the other men, and my Uncle Bob, who simply smiled and shrugged. It was up to me. I decided yes. I approached the man and realized I had nothing on, which wasn't allowed at my club; we were required to always cover our genitals when giving lap dances. 

He looked at me expectantly, a hint of a smile crinkling his eyes. "This enough for a nice lap dance?" He asked.

Taking the money, I smiled and said, "Absolutely, but usually, at my club, I need to wear something on the bottom."

He shrugged. "It's ok with me if it's ok with you. This club doesn't have that rule," he joked. 

I smiled and moved sensuously up to him. I stepped up and stood on his chair, straddling his legs, my bare pussy lining up with his face. He leaned in, his nose touching my trimmed patch of pubic hair, and breathed in my scent with a smile of pleasure. I bent my knees and let my body slide down his face so his nose—and a tickle of his tongue—brushed from my pussy, across my belly towards my boobs. I stepped back to the floor, and I offered one boob at a time, this time allowing a little lick and kiss of each nipple. Definitely not allowed at the club, but hey, for the money I was getting, I wanted to give the man his money's worth. 

I sat on his lap and felt his erection press against my pussy, which made me smile. I love it when I turn men on and make them hard. I gyrated my hips and felt my uncovered labia squish and grip rather than slide across his groin like in the club. I pressed and undulated on his crotch until the song that had been playing ended, and I decided that would be a good stopping point. 

I stood, kissed the top of his head, and stepped back. I turned and was greeted by a row of men sitting on sofas and chairs, smiling, with cash in hand. They all wanted a turn. My belly gave a little flip of arousal at the thought. Wow, looks like I'll be busy for a while.

I sighed, smiled, and approached the closest man in line. I repeated the same basic pattern with him. When I finished, I stood and noticed a smear of wetness on his crotch; I was that wet. I moved from man to man; each handed me $100 or $150 for a lap dance. This is much more fun than the club and way more money!

As I gave out seven or eight lap dances, the other men mingled, drank, laughed, and either watched or didn't pay much attention to me or my activities. I guessed that they were used to ignoring actions that did not affect them or that they were involved in. Unless they wanted to be involved.

I finished my lap dance for the final man in the line and took a break to get another drink of water. Uncle Bob came over. "You seem to be having fun tonight. So... good idea?"

Nodding, I said, "It's been fantastic. These guys are all so nice and appreciative. I'm having fun—and making a bucket of money." I smiled. "Thanks for this."

"No, I should thank you," Uncle Bob said. "This will be one for the record books as one of the best of this group's gatherings ever, thanks to you."

"Speaking of gatherings, who is the guest of honor, anyway? I haven't heard or seen anything special mentioned about him." I looked around the room as if some signal would appear.

Uncle Bob nodded toward a handsome man in his late 50s standing by the fireplace. He was tall with a thick shock of silvery hair. A silver fox. "That's him, Theo."

I left Uncle Bob and went over to Theo. "So, this is all for you, I hear," I said playfully.

With a grin, Theo eyed me up and down, drinking in my naked body. "Clearly, not all for me. I think the guys are getting a lot of fun out of this evening. Thanks to you. I don't know where Bob found you, but I must thank him."

Just then, another man approached us. "Theo, my man, you haven't had your special Starla treat yet! Let me buy you one of the most fabulous lap dances ever; you should celebrate."

I bit my lip, suddenly embarrassed by the praise, and said, "Since this is the Man of Honor, this one is on the house." I gestured to a nearby chair. "Have a seat, kind sir."

Theo sat, but as I turned to walk in front of him, the other man intervened. He spoke quietly to me. "So, since this is Theo's big night, maybe he could have something extra special? You know, more than just a lap dance. Not for free, of course."

I looked at the man, confused. "What do you mean, something extra special?"

The man glanced around and then mimicked the motion of a blow job. My eyes widened with a mix of surprise, shock, and some offense. But despite my automatic rejection of the notion, I felt a tingle deep in my pussy. 

"I... I don't do that. I've never done that. Only lap dances." I stammered. I was taken off-guard. Shit, what do I say to that? Does he think I'm just some cheap whore here? But... why don't I feel more offended? Is it really outrageous for him to simply ask this under the circumstances?

With a smirk, the man said, "Well, just because you can't or don't do it at your club doesn't mean you can't do it here. Think about it; it'll make his day and be good money for you. So, I don't know, perhaps $500 would be enough incentive?" 

He waited as a series of confused thoughts and emotions played across my face. 

My mind raced. Oh my god. That's like a whole night of work at the club—a good night. But a blowjob; that's a big step up from a lap dance. I enjoy it and am told I'm pretty good at it. But giving one to a stranger? Stripping is one thing... but this is like sex, sort of. I should just say no. But... I kind of don't want to say no. It sounds kind of exciting—is that bad? How do I decide what to do?

The man prompted gently. "By the way, I'm Andy. And you would make this night one of the highlights of Theo's life—a special treat from a gorgeous young woman. This is his special night; all of this is for him. Plus, it's pretty good money for only a few minutes... it would be great all around for both of you."

I eyed Theo as I sorted out my thoughts. Maybe it was the charged sexual atmosphere, my financial struggles, or the thrill of doing something risky, public, and naughty. I was stark naked in a room full of dressed men—probably a combination of all those things, but something clicked in my mind. 

Getting paid that much for a few minutes' effort was just too good to pass up. I gave up trying to rationalize that I would be doing anything other than exchanging sex for money. I was only slightly struggling with being turned on by the idea. The fact I was getting paid made it all the more exciting, not worse. 

With a nod, I turned back to Andy. "Well, nice to meet you, Andy. And, what the hell; it is Theo's special night. So, ok, I'll do it."

I walked over to Theo, smiled, sat on his lap, gyrated my pelvis, and felt his cock swell; this caused a ripple of pleasure deep in my gut. Then I stood, sliding my nipples across his lips, hovering there until he snuck a tongue out and gave a little lick. Then sensing no resistance, he took my nipple and sucked gently. I would be in major trouble if I did this at the club, but it's so much fun.

"Mmm, that's nice," I murmured. I let Theo suckle each nipple for a moment. Then I stepped up and stood on his chair, feet on each side of his legs, as I had with my first lap dance recipient. I leaned in so his lips met my thigh, then bent my knees, lining up my pussy with his mouth. But this time I invited more than just a sniff. "Go ahead and have a taste if you want. A special treat for you." Oh, yeah, I'd definitely get fired if I did this at the club... 

Theo wasted no time sliding his tongue out between my swollen labia, sliding it along my cleft. Then he licked up and across my clit, causing my pussy to quiver and a wave of pleasure to surge in my loins. He expertly flicked his tongue across and around my clit, with occasional tiny sucking pulses. My pussy gushed with increased wetness, and my juices trickled down my thighs. 

I ran my hands through his thick hair, partially to pull him into my pussy and also to help keep my balance. I knew this man could make me cum in minutes under other circumstances, but I was uncomfortable standing that way. And this was supposed to be his pleasure treat, not mine.

I detached from Theo's magic tongue and stepped back down. I ran my hands along his chest, down his belly, and placed them on his hard bulge. Our eyes met for a moment, then I focused down. Without a word, I opened his belt and pants and slid my hand under his boxers onto his throbbing cock, feeling its heat.

"Are you sure... sure this is ok?" Theo whispered.

My answer was to fish Theo's cock out into the open. I held its velvety hardness and felt the strength of the turgid muscle. I ran my tongue up the shaft and around the cock head, then slipped it between my lips and into my mouth. I heard his quiet moan as his sensitive head met my warm, soft mouth. I pressed Theo's dick deeper into my mouth and began sucking, sliding it in and out while stroking the base with my hand. This wasn't a tease-and-edge situation; it was a suck-and-finish. In a crowded room full of men, out in the open and visible to anyone looking our way.

I stroked, sucked, licked, and kissed Theo's erection until I sensed his breathing become more rapid and his balls tighten. I increased my speed and pressure, and he began to thrust his hips in search of more friction in my mouth. 

Suddenly, Theo contracted his belly and caught his breath, shuddered, then gave a guttural moan as he began shooting cum into my mouth. I felt his first jet of semen hit the side of my cheek, tasting the salty tang of warm cum. I clamped down on his ejaculating penis and sucked it like a baby on a nipple, swallowing all I could and dribbling the rest down my chin.

When Theo's spasms abated, I let his softened dick slip from my mouth, lifted it, and kissed it on the tip. I looked up and smiled at him, feeling proud of my accomplishment. The look of bliss on his face was empowering and gratifying. 

Quiet clapping turned my attention toward the fireplace, where Andy and two other men stood applauding. "Damn," Andy said. "That was so hot. Hope you liked your special treat, Theo. You are a lucky man; watching that got me so worked up, I feel like I could come with a strong wind."