Entertaining at Large Ch. 09

'Go and get him will you love? Take him this.'

She handed over the drink. He was huddled in the doorway when I went to him. He looked at me resentfully. It was a worse glare than the one he'd given me when he realised he'd spent the day wearing the "Tart" shirt at my photoshoot. I gently placed the pint on the step and then hugged him to me and searched for his mouth with mine. He lowered his chin to his chest and pursed his lips. He was clearly in no mood to be appeased. I didn't blame him. But that didn't stop me showering kisses on any patches of bare skin I could find and muttering apologies whenever my mouth wasn't so engaged. Eventually he thawed enough to speak.

'Fuck off. I want to go home.'

I squeezed him tightly. He tried to throw me off, but with both his arms clamped rigidly at his sides and mine wrapped around them he had no chance.

'Just come in and finish your drink, I'll find someone to take you. Alan's not been drinking.'

The chances of a taxi were now officially zero. I kissed him on his clenched lips. That just made him tense them harder. So I licked them and bit his ear. I held the door open for him and eventually he picked up the beer and pushed by me. A little cloud of sadness.

Scarlett was not going to be cold shouldered. She rushed over when she saw him and sort-of twined herself around him. He had to stretch out an arm to save his beer. I gently took it and put it on the table. They kissed long and hard. She stroked his hair and face with gentle fingers. When they broke she held him in her arms whispering in his ear.

'Isn't young love wonderful?'

I checked to see if JD was joking. He wasn't. Both men were staring at the tableau with a look of nostalgia in their eyes. I went over to Mandy. Some memories you can guess at. I had my own.

Fortunately Tracy had finished her public fornication and was staggering more than walking to the door leading out to the Snug. Jason was supporting her. Everyone else in the pub was on their feet making noises which stretched from polite applause to the pure animalistic. Some were doing both.

'James is more than a bit pissed off. Says he wants to go home. Can Alan drive him do you think?'

'I'll sort it.'

I turned to the stage. George was shouting for quiet. He eventually got what he wanted.

'Well I don't know about you lot, but that was the best two hours I've had this year.'

The noise which greeted his statement indicated a consensus. He was grinning like a teenager in a brothel.

'We've got about an hour's drinking until midnight.'

Another cheer.

'And then the girls will be doing it all again.'

The roof almost came off the place. George was shouting "and". He had to repeat himself several times before the cheering subsided.

'And no one needs a taxi. Alan's taking you all home tonight.'

This time the response was loud, but not ecstatic. People looked at each other and the explanation for Alan's presence filtered through the bar.

'His wife's a real goer. He can't keep up with her. Sorry Alan.'

The laughter was genuine. I glanced over at Alan. He was laughing too. George was calling for quiet again.

'Seriously for a moment.'

Now the laughs were ironic.

'It's that time of the year when we all think about those around us. So, in the words of the great Crosby, Stills and Nash, If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with.'

The song blasted out over the speakers and those of us lucky enough to know it looked around for someone to hug. Scarlett was heads down with James and Red in computer world; Mandy and George were embracing each other and no one would want to get stuck in the middle of that. So I went to look for Mr J, musing on the self-evident fact that George was a hippy once. There'd be photographs somewhere, I was sure.

Time flies when you're having fun. Mr J had a small audience enjoying his stories of a semi-scandalous youth. One hug later and his stock clearly rose a notch or two. One of the wives and I shared a few lingerie-buying tips before I left them to raise another fifty quid or so for the refuge. Two of my customers were the women who had licked my nipples earlier. Their husbands clearly loved watching us, and taking more pictures. I was definitely adding "more women" to my New Year's to-do list.

'You could use that for your Xmas card next year.'

'We're thinking more of just running the video on a wide-screen when we get home.'

They giggled together. One of the guys gave me a thumbs-up behind their backs.

Alcohol sales were steadying out and George and the two middle-aged barmaids had it more than covered so I took a moment to text the lads a sort of pre-midnight greeting. Mobiles were periodically pinging all over the pub as people with the same idea messaged their contacts lists to beat the midnight communications crash.

"Got sponsors for the team. Need your chest, waist and boot sizes for the new kit - Piotr, will you translate this into Polish for Wot please? Crown really rocking. Having a ball. Missing you all slightly. S xxx"

George came over to me with a fresh bottle of water. I thought he looked a little sheepish; one of those sheep which escape into the wild and end up with fleeces that weigh a ton and make them look like barrels.

'It's nearly half-past. Round up Scarlett will you. I want you all ready. Most of these buggers will have passed out if you all do longer sets next time. Amateurs.'

There were already one or two men sleeping at tables on folded arms. Their friends had thoughtfully removed articles of their clothing, tied shoe laces together and scrawled messages on their bodies with indelible marker pens. I hopped off my stool and went over to the techno-hub.

'... And we could do key rings, T-shirts, pens, baseball caps. Oh, hi Susan. We're just planning marketing.'

Red looked like he knew what he was talking about. I just smiled; it's what managers do when enthusiastic team members are over-reaching themselves. I was good at it.

'We need to get ready for part two, Scarlett.'

She took her arm from around James's shoulder. He was looking a lot happier. Probably something to do with the three empty glasses in front of him one of which was holding down about a hundred pounds in used notes.

'Oh good. You've got your phone. Will you just nip out and take a picture of the sign? We'll need to match fonts tomorrow.'

James was having none of that.

'I'll do it. She'd probably get the focus wrong.'

We all watched him go, bustling across the room to the door.

'He seems a lot happier.'

'Boys and toys, Susan. You know how it is. And they do like a bit of chat.'

Scarlett and I linked arms and sashayed through the bar listening to George telling more of his seemingly endless supply of awful jokes.

We found Tracy asleep in the Snug. She had a dressing gown pulled over herself. There was an empty bottle and a pile of the clothes she had been wearing from her first act on the floor next to her. She was smiling as she snored and looked completely at peace with the world. Scarlett grinned down at her and raised a finger to her lips.

'It would be a shame to wake her, wouldn't it?'

I nodded. She then kicked the bench and shook her cousins violently by the shoulders.

'Come on sleepy head. Time to get ready. There must be at least four blokes in the bar you haven't screwed yet.'

She jumped back quickly as Tracy, eyes still closed, swung out an arm to try and punch whoever it was who had woken her. Scarlett was cackling and she moved in again and tugged the gown away. Tracy was naked underneath it, she quickly moved a hand down to cover her pussy. It still looked swollen and flushed.

'You cow. I was enjoying that. God I feel sore.'

'Don't complain to me. It wasn't my idea to take bedroom equipment on stage.'

Tracy pulled herself upright and stroked the nipples on her large breasts. There were small traces of the cotton gown stuck to them. She groaned again.

'I must have had ten orgasms. It was wild. Don't think I'll be doing it again though, I'm knackered. Must be getting old.'

'Where's Jason?'

'He had to go home to look after Tyson. Auntie Mabel is coming down here for midnight.'

Scarlett looked shocked.

'Here? But she's eighty if she's a day.'

'Probably older than that after an evening with Tyson. Little monster.'

We each retreated to a separate corner to start preparing. George was giving time checks in the bar. I had about twenty minutes until I had to go on. Scarlett was already pulling on a gorgeous pair of grey, silk panties. They matched the bra she had slipped on before it.

'Give us a hand before you get dressed will you Tracy? I'm going to need a few minutes to dry.'

'Dry? You're not putting on fake tan now are you?'

I pulled a couple of thin paintbrushes and two cans from my bag.

'Course not. It's flavoured body paint. I've got chocolate and orange. I'm going to get them to lick me naked.'

The two girls were at my shoulders looking down at the cans.

'Can we join in?'

'Shut up Tracy.'

I handed her one of the brushes and the can of chocolate paste.

'I thought orange on one side and chocolate on the other.'

'Where'd you get the idea? They're going to love it.'

She nodded towards the door. I started painting lines of the soft goo along my fingers. Tracy stepped behind me and I tensed as I felt gentle, sticky stroking rising up my leg. I couldn't see, of course, but felt her outlining my buttock. As she got higher she drew lines across my ribs and started work on what felt like a necklace. Scarlett was smiling as she watched her work. I was relying on her to police Tracy's baser tendencies.

My ex-husband Dave had been a big fan of body confectionary. Before the bitterness set in, we had often dispensed with dessert at dinner. It was the memory of discovering the remnants of these meals in creases between fingers, or under breasts which had given me the idea when thinking about tonight.

'We going on in the same order?'

Tracy was a picture of concentration; her tongue was poking out between her teeth as she concentrated on putting the final touches to a henna-like pattern on my groin which edged the side of my labia. I was finding it difficult to remain still; a combination of the effect of drying paste and the delicate stimulation.

'George has already told them I'm going on first. What do you want to do Scarlett?'

Tracy and I looked across at her. She was a vision in silver. The dress she had been wearing when I first came in looked, if anything, even better when she was upright under the softer lights of the Snug. I whistled softly between my teeth.

'Wow.'

'I was going to say that. You should go last Scarlett. Nothing like a bit of class to send 'em home happy.'

I tested the tackiness of my body paint. It had dried fast and I slipped on a cotton thong and low-cut bra I had soaked in liqueurs the day before. An ankle length satin gown with loose, full-length sleeves completed my outfit. I could hear George announcing it was a minute to midnight so I passed my second CD to Mandy and edged along the side of the bar to take up a position behind the stage.

There was a definite haziness about the place. Several hours of George's strong beer, the singalong classics and the memory of Tracy and her toys had all taken their toll. Men slumped in chairs more than sat. There were more than a few glassy pairs of eyes clearly struggling to focus on the stage. Almost all the women in the place were sitting on someone's lap. Hands waved in the air conducting along with George as the last ten seconds of the year ticked away.

'So that's that then.'

George's dismissive shrug drew laughter from those not kissing someone Or cheering drunkenly.

'But.'

He paused, more heads turned towards him.

'We've got a great way to start of the new one.'

I waited for his follow up; would it be abuse or innuendo? I was surprised when he simply waved an arm behind himself and announced.

'The sexy Suzette.'

I stepped up into the light and listened as my music filled the room. I had chosen a Bebel Gilberto album; the Brazilian singer had one of those sleepy voices ideal for chilling out after a long day. It was a favourite and I was not expecting to be throwing myself around much. I began as I meant to go on, following the slow salsa rhythm. The thin gown behaved perfectly. It moved around and against me as I danced, sometimes clinging to the outlines of my boobs and hips, occasionally dividing at the waist allowing glimpses of thigh. I tried to shape and tense my limbs quite enjoying the patterns of shadows and light.

The Crown, however, is no place for artistry. The music was broken by occasional whistles, but mostly by shouts demanding a bit more flesh. I strolled to the edge of the stage to the waiting hand of Mr J. After stepping down, I left my hand in his and whispered for him to take a taste. He tentatively stuck out his tongue and ran it along my forefinger. I enjoyed the sensation; even more so when he suddenly engulfed the whole finger and sucked vigorously. He licked his lips enthusiastically when I slowly withdrew my finger. There was a small buzz of expectation from men around us.

As the crowd caught up with what was going on excitement spread rapidly. I found myself passed from mouth to mouth around the room. Strangely for the Crown-crowd there was very little groping. In a way that was frustrating. Being caressed by dozens of tongues held its own thrill however. I shrugged off the gown when arms and legs were thoroughly cleaned and four boys immediately set about savouring my ribs and shoulders. I giggled; it was very ticklish, the tongues and floppy fringes combining to make me squirm and sigh.

Bebel Gilberto seemed to chill everyone out. It was not surprising that there was no singing along; I couldn't do it either and I loved her songs. What was missing was the whooping and cheering which had accompanied earlier performances. This was an altogether more sensual experience. I gyrated more than span, touches were softer rather than grabbing and crowd satisfaction expressed more by smacking lips and wide smiles.

'Is it Crème de Menthe?'

I had found my way back to the foursome I had met earlier. One of the girls had sucked on the bottom of my bra as she finished off the orange-side of the body paint underneath my left boob. I smiled my reply and she beckoned over one of the men. Soon I had all four of them sucking at the material stretched over my boobs. I felt myself being lifted bodily. Two guys had hold of my legs and a third was almost chewing my panties. Some people will go to any lengths to access free booze. I started laughing.

I was getting distinctly more warmed up as I was virtually passed around the room. The moistened undies released the stimulating menthol of the liqueur. That alone would have hardened my nipples and electrified my pussy and clit. The lapping and chewing which forced the sensation just made me hotter. I was more than a little flustered by the time I made it back to the stage I was more than a little confused. My body was demanding focussed attention; my audience seemed more than satisfied with the experience of sucking alcohol out of a stripper's underwear. In my mind I was resigned to having to wait until I was off stage to resolve the conflicting demands. I had reckoned without Mr J.

I stood on the stage enjoying the feeling of the warmth from the lights drying my skin. I twirled the soggy bra and panties around my head before throwing them out into the group of expectant men who had followed me to the dais. I watched a scene a little like feeding time at the zoo. It was only then that I realised both nipples were still coated with orange/chocolate goo; Tracy's over enthusiastic applications over my genitalia were now melted and beginning to trickle down my thighs. I found a chair and pointed down to the first few faces I could see through the glare.

Matt had to help Mr J up as they ascended. Having seen what Scarlett had done to the earlier volunteer, no doubt, no one else joined them. I spread my legs to the first whistles of the show and at the same time pulled Matt's head down to my chest. He didn't need further instruction and set to cleaning up my art work. My nipples stiffened more and almost hummed as he first licked, then sucked hard. I felt myself going red and pushed up as he took in a mouthful of my boob.

I fell back as my legs were suddenly hoisted from the floor. I was aware of Mr J's slow descent, he had been using my knees as support as he arthritically folded. But once there he too was obviously setting to work with a purpose. He positioned my legs over his shoulders and lapped at the lines of diluted body cream which had stained my thighs. The music flowed over us and I could feel tension in the pit of my stomach rising as his tongue explored the edges of my outer labia. I lowered a hand to stroke his head and groaned softly.

The contrast between the eager youth working over my tits and the conscientious pensioner gently exploring my pussy led to an exquisite contrast of feelings. When Matt's teeth nibbled my hard nubs stabs of electricity coursed through me; as they subsided I could concentrate on the warmth building below as Mr J lapped with increasing vigour over, around and inside my vagina. I felt his hand stroking my sticky strip of pubic hair as he divided my lower lips and almost shrieked as his mouth surrounded my clitoris. He held it firmly between pursed lips applying gentle rhythmic pressure.

Matt came up for air first. I could hear him gulping close to my ear. From the corner of my eye I saw him wipe a firm hand across his mouth cleaning away the sweet residue. He bent and kissed me. I thought for a moment I might lose a tooth as his mouth ground down on mine. I grabbed his hand and pulled it to my right boob; we both started massaging and pinching. I knew I was likely to lose it at any moment.

Mr J pushed me over the edge into paroxysms by slowly inserting a finger into me as he sucked my clit. I felt almost disembodied; the scream I heard must have been mine but it came to me mingled with the cheers of the crowd and Bebel's soft intonations of Brazilian love. I felt myself squirting Ito his eager mouth, the spurts matching my pants as I gasped for breath. I was shaking all over and I pushed Matt's hand away to stop the shocks his squeezes were still giving me.

It as unclear to me how we became disentangled, or indeed how all three of us got to our feet. I could barely feel my legs and I noticed Mr J was less than steady as he sheepishly wiped his face and brushed down his shirt and trousers. I kissed him on the mouth and could taste my own acidity mingled with the remains of orange flavouring. Matt hoisted my arm aloft in acknowledgement of the customers' acclamation. I turned to embrace him; he presented a chaste cheek for my kiss. I pinched his other cheek and shook it gently. He had the expression of a guilty schoolboy and kept glancing over to the bar where Mandy was shaking an admonishing finger. Whether that was aimed at him or her new lover I couldn't work out. She may have been mocking me for involving the pair of them.

I did a few passable curtseys; the sight of a naked woman impersonating an actor from a Jane Austen dramatisation raised a few laughs. I waved to everyone and was helped to the floor. George slapped my butt as he passed me on the way to introduce Tracy. It was like a strong breeze blowing on the embers of my orgasm and I wriggled my way to the exit.

'Hold that door.'

Tracy brought me fully back to reality. She was standing in the corridor between the toilets and the bar blocking traffic both ways. I had noticed a gaggle of men around the door as I pushed through to get changed. They all had that half-concentrating, half-pained look of someone who had left it slightly too long before making for the toilets for a pee. I had been flattered that they had put up with the discomfort in order to catch my climax and had given them a smile of gratitude. Seeing Tracy, I now realised I was not the only stripper who had contributed to their inconvenience.