Entertaining at Large Ch. 02

There was laughter as she suddenly stopped in the centre of the stage looking down at her socks as if she had noticed them for the first time. She grinned and pulled the chair George had left behind him into the full glare of the lights. Sitting legs akimbo she rolled off the remaining garments as if getting ready to shower, oblivious of the hoots and whistles, but clearly aware that her pussy lips were gaping as she wriggled. The last task completed she stood, pranced to the centre of the stage and slowly raised her arms aloft as the track came to a close. The roar was deafening and continued well after the lights were turned up again.

I was impressed. The performance had looked completely improvised but the timing was obviously impeccable. I looked round at the lads. They were all adjusting their clothing and exchanging appreciative grins as they did so. Mr J was on his feet clapping enthusiastically. His face was shining; he looked at least twenty years younger. The tightness returned to my stomach accompanied by the sharp tang of bile in my mouth. There was no way I could compete with that. It was going to be a complete fiasco. I had a desperate need for the toilets. I felt like I was going to throw up.

I elbowed my way through the the sweating men who only had eyes for the stage. Tracy was jiggling her breasts and giving little bows as the cheering continued. I pushed through into the cool and the quiet of the toilets. After a couple of deep breaths, the need to vomit became overwhelming. I made the stall just in time. I breathed deeply after I finished retching, trying to dispel the cold shivers I always get when I throw up. I almost jumped out of my skin when a hard finger tapped me on my shoulder.

'Here, wipe your mouth with this.'

It was Mandy, she was holding a tray. She handed me a towel and when I had finished a glass of water to rinse with. That was followed by an expertly poured cap of mouthwash and finally a small glass of vodka. I sat on the toilet still feeling a little lightheaded, but my breathing was back to normal. I looked up at Mandy. She was smiling and wordlessly asked my whether it was alright for her to smoke by waving an unlit cigarette. I nodded and she offered me the packet. I have never smoked, but that was the nearest I have ever come to starting. I made myself shake my head vigorously.

'I was just like you. Brought my guts up every night when I started.'

'You, you were a stripper too?'

'How do you think I met George. About four nights a week for ten years until I had our Tracy and then this.'

She ran her hands over her plump body and let out a nostalgic sigh.

'What you've got to remember is that you're in charge. You're the one with the knockers and the snatch. They want to see 'em? They'll get 'em on your terms. Just go along with the music.'

She reached down and squeezed my shoulders. I had another moment of panic. The music. I hadn't chosen the music. I stuttered my worries to Mandy.

'Don't sweat it. George knows what he's doing. Been watching women take their clothes off for most of his life. Dirty git.'

We laughed together and despite myself, I had to admit I was suddenly feeling more confident.

'What was in the vodka? It tasted sort of minty.'

'That was the mouthwash you silly tart.'

We both laughed some more and I got to my feet, straightened my skirt and ran fingers through my hair. I shook my head and that got rid of the remains of my dizziness.

'You look beautiful, you're more than that lot deserve. You get any more nerves, just look to the bar. We'll all be there egging you on.'

'Thanks Mandy, you're a life saver.'

'And don't worry about your clothes. Just drop them on the stage. I'll collect them and hang them in here for you. They'll be waiting when you've finished going round with the jar.'

She nodded towards a hanger holding Tracy's outfit. It was hooked over the side of the mirror by the sinks. I smiled. I had never considered the mechanics of getting dressed again until now. It was somehow reassuring as I walked through the door which Mandy held for me. I felt like a gladiator must have when entering the arena.

The bar was quieter. There was a general hubbub punctuated now and then by loud bursts of laughter as friends responded to someone telling jokes. There were nine or ten men still waiting for service, but most had got their drinks and were sitting at the tables talking animatedly. I noticed Tracy at the far side of the pub. She was still naked, posing for selfies with customers who dropped money into her jug. Most was coin but there were a fair few notes, I noticed. She smiled and waved as she saw me watching her. I waved back.

George was serving, but saw me standing there and indicated a full pint sitting on the bar near me. He held up five fingers and gave me a smile. It was nearly time for my debut. The butterflies fluttered back to my stomach so I took a large gulp of beer to drown the little sods.

At the table, the lads were standing round a seated Mr J. He was obviously telling them some story as they were all listening carefully before bursting into laughter. Piotr had to explain some subtler point to Wot. I put my glass down and sat at the empty chair nearest the edge of the stage. They all turned to me.

'Where the bloody hell have you been all night?'

'And where's ours?'

I reached across the table for my bag and fished out some cash which I handed to Luke.

'Still in the pumps mate, waiting for you to collect them. One of the girls had an accident. George wanted me to help. She's been taken to hospital. I just wanted to make sure she was OK.'

There were general expressions of concern. Mostly that a replacement had been found, the state of the patient was an afterthought to all but Piotr. The comments about Tracy came thick and fast. She was clearly a hit with the lads.

'Where have you been hiding this one?'

Steve nodded at Mr J who looked suitably immodest.

'He's got the filthiest jokes I've ever heard. Says they're true stories. That Tracy was almost wetting herself.'

'They're all true, I assure you. Except the one about the two nuns.'

He paused.

'There were really three of them.'

They all burst out in familiar laughter. I joined in even though I had no idea what I they were talking about. The jollity was interrupted by George coughing into the microphone. My stomach ratcheted up another notch.

'All right, all right. Settle down, you lot. You, Bert. Put young Tracy down. She's due back at the convent tomorrow and they'll be inspecting her arse for hand prints.'

He let the wits in the crowd have a few goes at ripostes before holding up his fat hand again.

'Now, on a more serious note, I have some good news, some better news and some bloody fantastic news. The good news is we've run out of lager, your tastebuds will thank you later; the better news is that there's still plenty of beer. Delicious, locally-brewed and at a bargain price. Your chance to become instant connoisseurs. What more can you ask for?'

From the barracking which ensued it would seem "rather a lot" best fitted the bill. George gave them a few seconds before resuming.

'Now for the best news. Our next entertainer, a woman of spectacular looks and peculiar good manners, has been a regular here for some time. I've lost count of the number of occasions she has begged me, begged me on her hands and knees, to be allowed to perform on a Friday.'

Even I found myself laughing.

'Now I'm a reasonable man. A man who likes to help out where he can.'

There was little agreement from the floor.

'So when she offered me cash, this evening, I had to say yes. She said she had never seen such a good-looking bunch of fellas gathered in one place. I did mention her eyesight problem, didn't I? So now, without further ado, I give you, making her international debut, the beautiful, Suzette!'

There was laughter and some desultory applause as George reached down a hand towards me. I grabbed it and it's a good job I did as, when I stood, my legs almost gave way. He hauled me up beside him and I became aware of music starting.

'Don't worry, it's on a loop, you take your time, we'll finish it when you do.'

He squeezed my hand, kissed me on the cheek and was gone.

That was my "oh shit" moment.

I was on my own; in the middle of a stage; lights so hot they were almost burning; in front of a crowd of half-drunk men who had already undressed me with their eyes and were impatient to see if reality matched their fantasy.

Two things saved me from theatrically fainting, or sprinting for the doors. First, I looked down at the lads. They all had expressions of surprise and something like delight. Wot was especially pleased. He had his fingers in his mouth and was letting out piercing whistles. Mr J gave me a thumbs up sign. The second saviour was the music. It was "The Stripper"; the full orchestral version. It took a moment or two for the realisation to seep through my panic, but once it did, it was the easiest thing in the world to start moving.

The music seemed to be divided into even, short phrases. I just fell in with it walking, I hope sedately, across the front of the stage, punctuating each section with a shake of my hips. I remember thinking I should download it for Mr J's bedroom shows. I was soon loving it.

When I blew a kiss to Wot for his encouragement, it brought a cheer. So I did it again. Who wouldn't? I raised my hands above my head to shake my tits for the crowd and used their distraction to undo the buttons at the wrists of the blouse. The buttons at the front were next. I turned my back on them all to pull it from the waist of my skirt and spent a few moments shaking my shoulders with arms outstretched before turning to do the same thing facing them. The appreciation was evident and I felt a sudden dampness when I saw one of the men I knew to be from the engineering firm carelessly rubbing his groin as he watched me. This was working.

I slid the blouse over one shoulder whilst scanning the crowd for evidence of more erections; there was plenty. Down at the front table the boys were wriggling to adjust themselves. I saw the same motion elsewhere in the room. Remembering my first performance at home, I was at least grateful none of them had their cocks on display. With the other shoulder exposed, I dropped the blouse to ear-splitting whistles. There were shouts of "more" from the back. I blew another kiss to them. I strolled back and forth at the front of the stage bending from the waist at each corner and in the middle to give them all a view of my cleavage. From the noise I'd say they liked it.

The skirt fell straight to the floor once the zipper was pulled ever so slowly down. I kicked it to the back of the stage. I was loving this; the noise from the men was coming in waves. It almost made my skin tingle as I strutted around in my underwear. My only worry was that the juices I could feel dampening my panties would start running down my leg. If this was stripping, then give me more of it.

I drew the chair front and centre just as Tracy had done and sat down as decorously as I could manage. I was breathing heavily from both the exertion and the excitement. I took a break, crossing and uncrossing my legs, making sure that everyone got a good look at my privates as I did so. Unclipping the catches of the suspenders on my left leg, I felt the wetness when my arm accidentally brushed my swollen pussy. The material of my panties was now glistening in the harsh light. I shuddered slightly from this briefest of touches, so made great play of slowly rolling down the stocking. I took off my shoe and placed it in front of me before stretching the thin nylon hose and making it finally spring off. From the cheering you would have thought they had never seen it done before. I beamed down at them.

The first stocking I pulled across my breasts before stretching out a hand and dropping it to the floor. The second I just tossed off the stage. I saw Luke catch it as it fell towards the boys' table. Shoes back on I whipped off the suspender belt as I stood. It went towards the back of the stage to join my skirt. I realised I had no idea how long I had been on. I tried to get an idea from the music, but given the simple repetition of the classic number we could have been on the first playing or the third.

There was an almost palpable ramping up of the excitement, both in the audience and within me, as I walked around stroking my bra-covered breasts or shaking my shoulders to make them wobble. Looking down, I could spot one or two men whose tongues were actually hanging out. We were heading for the finale and none of us could wait.

The classic move of slipping one strap off my shoulder and then the other seemed appropriate for the classic sixties number. So that's what I did. I slid out my arms and raised them high. I could feel my breasts move more freely. I thought about turning my back to tease them some more, but decided instead to undo he clip and hold the cups of the loosened bra in place. I could hear Wot's whistles and some calls of "off, off' from further back in the crowd. I gave a little nod and a grin towards where I thought the calls were coming from and threw my hands straight up, releasing the flimsy garment to fall behind me.

I've always liked my breasts. They are a C-cup, perfectly symmetrical with nipples which point slightly upwards in the centre of tan areolae. They made a lot more fans that night. I made them dance as I moved. My arms were either held high, or folded with hands behind my head. Either way, every movement made them shake. They were now slick with sweat and they glistened in the light. Hell, I would have paid money to see them. The whistles and shouts almost drowned the music. I could tell I had a big smile on my face, I could feel the muscles starting to cramp.

A few calls of "more" broke into the general tumult of noise after some time and the cry was gradually taken up by others. A few guys were stamping in time with the music, others banging on the tables or clapping. I lowered my hands to the sides of my panties and was left in no doubt as to what it was they wanted more of. I toyed with the elasticated waistband, teasing them mercilessly. I was stimulating myself with the feel of stretched lace over my swollen lips and was savouring the moment. I would slip on side down before pulling it back up, ease down the top until the top of my pussy was almost exposed before releasing the tension. The bit I enjoyed most was pulling them taut so I got full pressure on my clit. I was definitely going to need some private time when this was over.

I eventually turned my back to them all as I sensed the track was reaching the end. With thumbs hooked on both sides of the knickers I slowly eased them down to my ankles, bending from he waist as I did so. Stepping out of them was harder than I expected, one side got tangled in my shoe and I was red-faced from the bending and slight embarrassment at my clumsiness when I eventually stood up and turned to give them the full Monty.

Three things happened almost simultaneously. The music ended leaving just the deafening noise of the crowd; the lights came up in the room giving me a clear view of the watchers for the first time and my brain gave me the news that it had no idea what I was going to do next. I looked around. I was breathing heavily, I could feel my breasts rising and falling in time with the blood thudding in my ears. My grin was almost rictus, I opened and closed my mouth to relieve the stiffness and to get more air into my lungs. I saw Mandy clapping enthusiastically at the end of the bar. She gave me a thumbs up. But I was beginning to panic a little. The men had all pushed forward towards the stage as my performance had progressed and they were packed tight around the front tables. I could see no route through them.

It was Wot who came to my rescue. He picked up the empty jar from the table and dropped in a five pound note and a few coins before handing it to me. When I took it he offered his hand to help me down. I grabbed it gratefully. I was quickly surrounded by my friends. Steve hugged me and Luke patted me on the shoulder. I spotted My J at the back of the group clapping politely. Piotr and Wot were saying something to me but I could hear nothing over the noise. The lads all put their hands in their pockets and I felt the weight of pound coins dropping into the jug. Mr J leaned forward to stuff in a tenner.

I looked around to see if there was a way clear for me. About five feet away, behind a gaggle of his ogling mates a guy was holding up a fiver, so I tentatively stepped towards him. I could feel at least two large hands on my arse "helping" guide my passage.

'How about a photo?'

The man leaned to shout in my ear as he pushed the note into the glass. I must have made some sort of affirmation as he threw a strong arm around my shoulder gripping my arm tightly in a rough hand and adjusted our position as he stared at the phone he was holding up in his other hand. I grinned wearily and turned away after the flash. There were more hands on my bottom and another man was holding his phone in readiness as his mate released me. I shook the jar at him and he dropped in a handful of coins.

And so it went. I was almost passed from one man to another around the bar. I was grateful to notice that Piotr was shadowing my progress, but a body guard was not really necessary. Most of the punters were respectful. Well respectful for a strip pub. The rules seemed to be that my bum was fair game but, as Tracy had said, they all kept their hands off my tits. I felt the odd thumb stroke the underside of a boob as I was gripped around the waist for yet another selfie, but that was all.

The men's reactions varied as I progressed. Some were crudely enthusiastic offering comments on my tits and arse which were almost poetic. A few quite blatantly said they'd like to "give me one" and one guy pushed a ten pound note into the jar and leaned in to tell me he'd written his name and phone number on it and would I call him for a private session. I shook my head and turned to check Piotr was still in attendance.

Other guys were more polite. They would ask for a picture and usually drop a note into the jar. The ones who put in coins generally said "thank you" or "that was great" as they did so. They helped me gain confidence. Soon I was almost completely unaware that I was still naked among them. I remembered noticing Tracy's similar nonchalance earlier. I would comfortable squeeze up next to a man wanting a selfie, or push myself into the centre of a group without worrying. At one point Piotr took the jar from me and handed me an empty one. I watched as he passed the full glass over a few heads to a grinning George.

The last group were the terminally shy. They would almost try to get away as I approached them, or reach out to drop coins from a fully extended arm. None of this group would meet my eyes. I began to spot the ones who clearly wanted more and would ask them as quietly as their mates grinned at them if they fancied a picture. I started rewarding this group with a kiss on the cheek when the snap was completed.

I have no idea how long the circumnavigation of the large room took. It seemed ages to me, but whenever I looked to the bar there still seemed to be a press of men seeking beers, so I guess it could not have been that long. Eventually though everyone who wanted a photo had one and I had hustled so much change from the rest that my wrist was aching from holding the second jar. As we neared the entrance to the corridor leading to the toilets I handed it to Piotr and headed for the Ladies.

There was a short queue of men snaking from the nearby Gents. They were all leaning against the wall swapping jokey comments as I passed. One reached out and slapped my bum. It stung and made me jump and let out a little shriek. I disguised the frisson of pleasure it gave me with a deep frown. If I was going to take up spanking it was not going to be in the queue to the bogs in the Crown and Anchor.