Entertaining at Large Ch. 18

'What's your name distinguished older gentleman?'

'I'm Mr J.'

'Cute.'

We were laughing at everything she said now. Her hand was up at her throat a finger hooked over the loose tie.

'Have you noticed that only you and me are wearing ties?'

'I can' t say I had.'

She pulled the knot down a little and put the other hand up to her mouth to hide her grin.

'Standards are dropping.'

She tugged down the knot and just made it tighter. I caught her eyes as she started looking a bit desperate. I made a motion of pulling my hands apart. She got the message and tugged the small end free while gripping the knot with her other hand.

There's something about the first item of clothing coming off which gives energy to any crowd. I'd noticed it myself. Doesn't matter what it is, could be a shoe, hat or even a brooch. It's like, up to that point, there was still a chance the girl was going to get cold feet, or something. But as soon as clothes start coming off, it's game on.

We were no different. Everything seemed to go up a notch. There was clapping and cheers. Nigel was perfecting his whoop, whoop, whoop. Mr J chipped in with athat's my girl. I tried to think what George would say.

'Give it 'ere and I'll spank your bum with it.'

Seemed to fit the bill. Angel was tying to twirl the tie around her head like a cowgirl. She was holding it too near the end and it kept getting tangled and flapped about. No one was handing out points for style, though, and there was a round of applause when she tossed it away. Mr J almost pushed me off the sofa when he stooped forwards to try and catch it. I reached over his head and grabbed his shoulder to keep my balance. He leaned his head against my boobs and his hand was soon back on my leg. I could feel his elbow exerting pressure on the top of my thigh. Cheeky devil.

'Who's that quiet man next to you Eric?'

She was playing with her boobs, bending forward and shaking her shoulders in time with the music.

'That's Nigel.'

He freed an arm from between them and tousled his hair. Angel flapped a hand at him.

'He's not a man, he's a boy.'

We all made catcalls. Mr J threw the tie at him. Nigel was beaming. His eyes never left his girlfriend.

'I like boys. Plenty of energy.'

That stopped us and Nigel wriggled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. Angel was grinning at him. There was a general rearrangement on the sofa as pressure was relieved on balls and penises.

'I meant him.'

Angel was smiling and pointing a straight arm at Alan who seemed to shrink down in the armchair. He smoothed his hair and licked his lips. She was tugging at the belt and eventually got the tine out of the tight leather hole. The strap flowed easily through the buckle and there was a soft clank as it hit the table. She flicked it onto his lap. She lifted her arms again and the baggy short billowed around her. This time when she bent forwards to him if fell loose at the neck. We all saw him swallow hard.

'You look like you need that more than me. There's something growing in your trousers.'

She looked around at us with her finger to her lips and a little-girl look on her face.

'We don't want anything escaping do we?'

Even Alan laughed and pretended to spank his dick with the thin loop he made. Angel gathered the bottom of the shirt up again and bunched it round her waist. This time there was no restriction and the sweat on the skin of her tummy and lower back sparkled under the bright light. She was obviously enjoying the greater freedom and had stuck her bum out over the edge of the table as she swayed from one side to the other. Eric dived forward and tried to look up between her legs.

'Best of order, gents, or I'll come over there and beat you down with a stick.'

Eric crawled back while the others laughed at my George impersonation. Angel turned round to see what all the fuss was about. She was still holding the shirt up. Mr J started clapping and Nigel let out a long whistle. It was only then she looked down and realised what she was showing. Her mock shock followed by a wicked grin was just what we wanted and she rubbed the flat of her hand up and down against her pussy before letting the folds of the shirt drop. There was a moan of disappointment from Alan.

'And who's my guardian angel? Ready to help a girl out when you boys are getting so naughty.'

'I'm George. I'm big and fat and I've got a massive cock. I'd like to stick up your arse.'

The men in the room laughed again. I pretended to scratch my imaginary balls. Angel looked a bit taken aback. She was learning that with some blokes there's nothing you can do. I waved at her to make sure she knew I was joking. She turned and wiggled her bottom at me. That got more appreciation.

'Tell me George.'

'What?'

'Do you think it's getting a little warm in here?'

She faced me full on and I could see she was toying with the top button on the shirt.

'I've got a bit of a cob on.'

She turned to face the rest of them.

'I've no idea what that means.'

We all laughed.

'Anyone got any other suggestions?'

She let go of the button and leaned forward pulling the front of the shirt up and down to wave cool air underneath it. We could see her boobs bouncing gently inside the slightly loose bra. She jerked her head to throw her hair forward over her face. It shone and changed colour as the light from above caught individual strands. She stood up pushing her hair back out of the way, her breasts stood out against the crisp linen momentarily before they got lost again in the oversized folds. She put her weight on one leg, a fist on her hip and jiggled impatiently in time with the tune as she scanned us all.

'That shirt looks rather warm, my dear. Perhaps if you took that off you'd get a little relief?'

Even she laughed at Mr J's studied politeness. Angel blew him a kiss as Eric started the traditional refrain ofoff, off, off. She undid one button and then the next one in quick succession. That gave her plenty to work with. When her shoulder slumped slightly, or when she tugged the bottom of the shirt down, the tops of her breasts were clearly visible. I led the whistling whenever she gave us a flash. I barely noticed that Mr J had slipped his hand under my top and was stroking the skin of my back and side. It was only when he worked a finger round to stroke the side of my boob that I jumped at the short tingle of pleasure.

'Naughty.'

'Forgive me.'

His arm returned to the centre of my back and I felt his thumb hook under one of the straps, just where it joined the main elastic sides. Angel had undone another button which allowed her to slide the shirt over one shoulder. She was standing sideways and rolling first one and then the other. The track playing now was more jaunty and she juggled her boobs inside the shirt between exposures.

'Phwoor.'

'Thank you, Alan. That's nice.'

It sounded more like noises-off in aCarry On movie to me. But I wasn't her target audience. The men in the room loved it. I watched her as she interacted with them. She was gawky. Some of the things she was doing were crude copies of age-old stripper moves; others she was discovering herself. She was moving more or less in time with the music, but sometimes her arms, legs and head seemed completely independent of each other. But most of all she was endearing. I watched them all trying to get her attention in their own way, their eyes fixed on her every move. Even I was smiling.

The whole thing hit the sidings when one track ended suddenly and a raucous combination of hip-hop and electronic noise with a really fast dance beat suddenly blared out. How do they make one track so much louder than another? Three things happened.

First, I realised what had been playing all this time. It wasMusic Crimes Against Xmas 46 or some such. The kind of albums very elderly relatives pick up for distantly-related great-something-or-anothers they are quite fond of. They usually do it on the basis that it looks like the CD they remembered them having when said oldster visited two decades before. I should have tossed it however many years ago I got it. Or at least insisted it go with Dave when we divided our things after the split.

Second, My bra sprang undone and Mr J's hand was suddenly cupping my breast. The old devil hadn't taken his eyes off the the gyrating nymphette. They didn't waver even when I half-slid down the arm against him. His thumb feathering my nipple was really hitting the spot and I could feel the pent-up passion Alice had been building in me all night ready to release. Mr J unquestionably knew which of my buttons to press - I'd had to draw him a route map to most of them. But he was a good student and liked to do revision whenever the opportunity arose. He was just applying the maxim that a boob in the hand is worth a bird with a bush, or however it goes. I was in no state to remember.

Lastly, Angel gave up. The music was just too much for her. She had been in the process of trying to slide the shirt down off her body before she'd undone all the bottoms. It had started off well with her snaking out her shoulders and tugging it down to the top of her tits. Somehow her arm got caught in one of the sleeves, and the outsized cuff I'd rolled to make them short enough got tangled up. When she tugged at the other the same thing happened. She was trapped like a patient in one of those old-fashioned straight jackets. She stepped off the table, almost tipping off the heels when she did, and sat down on it. Hard. She looked close to tears and the groans of disappointment from her fans were not helping.

Every crisis needs a hero and in this one I was the only available option. Despite the fact that my hand was already snaking clit-wards under the waistband of my trackies, I jumped up.

'Thanks for stopping Angel. I'm dying for a wee. Turn the lights up Mr J.'

I winked at the others while retrieving my loose bra from inside my top.

'If I don't give him something to do with his hands he has the knickers off me without me noticing.'

I pulled out the flimsy article, held it out at arm's length and dropped it, before smoothing the silky material tight over my breasts and giving my nipples a playful twist. It was like training puppies with a piece of cheese. Four pair of eyes followed my hand and there were appreciative woofs when I finished.

'I know refreshment breaks are not usual, but she's a very special performer. There's beers in the fridge. Help yourselves. We're going to use the upstairs loo. Any wee on the carpet downstairs will be DNA-tested and cleaning bills sent. Give it up.'

I pulled Angel to her feet and hugged her. Nigel whooped and Alan and Eric took the opportunity to give her a congratulatory tap on the bum before clapping loudly. I pulled her towards the door where Mr J was beaming at her.

'Magnificent, my dear. Wonderful.'

She followed me up the stairs to the bathroom. Then she sobbed.

'I really fucked that up, didn't I?'

'More buggered. than fucked, I'd say. That's what rehearsals are for. The banter was brilliant. Where did that come from? Costume malfunctions can happen to anyone and your shit taste in music is easily fixed. Get someone with style to choose for you. OK, you've persuaded me, I'll do it.'

I'd peed, wiped and rinsed in double quick time. She hoisted up the shirt and pulled down her panties which got tangled almost immediately in the suspender belt. That started the tears again. I dropped to my knees.

'My fault, easily fixed.'

I'd put them on over the knickers not under. I unhooked the stockings, pushed her down and kissed the inside of her thighs as I refastened. She was at least smiling after that.

'So what do I do now?'

'That's up to you.'

'I can't really go back down, can I?'

'The jumping out of the window and running down the road screaming is always an option. Don't worry, I keep a ladder in the spare room for when this happens.'

'They were really into me weren't they?'

'They can't wait for you to get the rest of your kit off.'

'Really? I thought they were just being nice.'

'Ha. They're blokes. Nought-to-hard on in sixty seconds. Maybe a bit longer for theolder gentleman.'

At last she laughed. Maybe my stand-up career can be salvaged. I led her through to the bedroom to help her reconstruct her make up. I unbuttoned the shirt to the bottom and rolled down the sleeves. She absentmindedly picked up my dildo.

'You were good as George. Pity you don't have one of these, I could suck you off. That'd get them going.'

'What you need is a genius idea.'

She nodded sadly.

'Oh look, the genius is already here.'

She didn't laugh at that one. Or at my jazz hands pose. But there was just a hint of expectation in her eyes.

'There's this Stones song.'

Nothing.

'The Rolling Stones? Sixties band? Rich, I think they're all snorting coke in the House of Lords toilets now.'

Light finally dawned in her eyes.

'Yeah, yeah. I think my Grandad's got their records. Those LP things.'

'They're the ones.'

I made a memo-to-self to give her a smack when we'd finished this.

'One track starts with a kids' choir. Sounds like a church song.'

She looked sceptical.

'Don't worry, I think it's about making a drug connection or something. It picks up after about thirty seconds to great rock and roll. They'll know it even if you don't.'

'OK.'

She still didn't sound confident.

'I'll get them sat down. Slap on the track. Do the lights. You walk in like a choir girl, hands together in your surplice.'

I tugged at the open shirt and she grinned.

'As soon as the beat kicks in, whip it off, sling it at Alan - he likes a treat - and then straight into point five. Which was?'

'Circulate.'

She clapped herself when I nodded.

'You'll probably have to raunch it up a bit to get them back to where they were. Sit on them, stroke their hair, talk about how you like their cocks.'

'I was getting really wet. They were...'

'Panting? And they will be again. Don't worry about the music. The first one ends really fast, they'll love you jumping about. Watching your boobs jiggle.'

She liked that.

'Jiggle, ha.'

'The rest of the Stones' stuff is steady classic beat. There won't be any surprises like last time. Just go with it.'

'Thanks.'

She looked like she was getting ready to go, but then froze as I helped her into the shirt.

'Problem?'

'Maybe.'

'Spill.'

'Its's just... What do I do when I've, you know, finished?'

I pretended to think.

'There's the run out of the door screaming option.'

She smiled and shook her head.

'Guys always like to watch us playing with ourselves. Spread your legs and stick a couple of fingers in there. Nothing like a screaming orgasm to let them know the show's over'

She looked like that might be something she'd choose.

'And there's audience participation. A perennial favourite which would provide happy memories for many years to come.'

She hugged me close, decision made, then stepped back and looked at my bra-less boobs. She needed an explanation.

'Mr J.'

'Ahh. You were giving him a treat.'

'My arse. He was all over my tits 'cos he didn't want to whip it out while he was drooling over you. He was trying to get me to do it for him.'

She laughed.

'So he really is a bad lad.'

'I think I might have mentioned it?'

'Maybe we'd better take this with us after all.'

She handed me my big, red dildo. I scooped up the unused condoms she'd left on the top.

'Should I slip these in my pocket too? Just in case?'

Alice adjusted the shirt until she was satisfied it was hanging in such a way so as not to reveal too much. She carefully folded her hands together in front of her chest and winked. Angel was back.

'Let us pray.'

Keith Richard's acoustic guitar kicked in and the shirt slid to the floor. There was a collective intake of breath. All except Nigel were tapping their feet to the familiar - to them - song. Angel did a passable imitation of a hippy chick as she wriggled and swayed. The loose bra meant there was plenty of movement to keep the troops entertained. At one point or another, she leaned over each of us, her hands on our shoulders shaking her tits in our faces. I could feel the dildo burning a hole in my pocket when it was my turn and I gently cradled her hanging orbs in my palms. She pressed firmly against them and smiled at me.

It was Nigel who ran his hands over her back and unclipped the bra; she caught the cups just in time and strutted up and down for a minute or so pretending to drop her hands and reveal all. Eric was almost pleading and Mr J's well modulated encouragement looked like it might do the trick. Alan looked shocked when she tossed the bra to him as the fast ending kicked in. She finished the track just jumping up and down in time to the music, no mean feat in high heels, Her knockers were bouncing high, making little slapping noises as they landed against her rib cage. The way her chest heaved as she needed to suck in great lungfuls of air when the song ended was almost as as erotic. I'm sure there wasn't a dry pair of underpants in the house.

Say what you like about Mick Jagger, you've got to admit that the boy brings out the natural strut in anyone. She walked up and down in front of hem, skipping away from Eric's repeated attempts to grab her. She chose his knee to perch on first, which meant his hands went straight to her boobs. She was pulled backwards against his chest and bicycled her stockinged legs for the rest of us. She had to be stern with him.

Eric. It feels like your propelling pencil's getting twisted. It's poking into me something cruel.'

Nigel took her extended hand and helped her to stand. She turned with her fists on her hips, her breasts bore pink marks from where he'd been pawing her.

'Should have left it on the bench at work.'

Alan laughed the loudest, so after she'd finished writhing against Nigel, she rewarded him. She initially perched on the arm of the chair shaking her boobs at him in time withHonky Tonk Women. He was slapping his hand on the other arm to the same beat and looking nervously around the room to gauge our reactions.

Things got a little steamier when she moved to his knees. She ran her hands along the stockings from thigh to heel and back. First the outside of her legs, then the inside. Nigel was whooping again and Eric shouted at Alan.

'Get stuck in.'

Angel threw herself backwards against him and raised both legs in a perfect V. After scissoring them a few times she forcibly detached one of Alan's hands from the arm of the chair and trapped it over her pussy with the bare skin of her thighs. She writhed against him in mock ecstasy before kissing him on the nose and jumping up.

'You, I'm saving for last.'

She told Nigel as she passed him. Before settling in front of Mr J.

'At least you know how to treat a lady.'

He'd detached his hand from my nipples when he'd seen her coming and had both his on his thighs as he smiled up at her.

'You look delightful in those stockings. Do you mind if I touch them?'

'Bad boy.'

She wagged her finger at him, but moved to stand, legs apart, one each side of his knees. She reached out a hand and stroked my hair as he began his explorations. Her eyes were closed and raised to the ceiling when he touched her bum for the first time. I took her own hand in mine and kissed her palm when she let out the first groan. The other's were all concentrating on what Mr J was up to. He had one hand on her legs as requested, the other was exploring the outer edges of her panties. I took the opportunity to slip the dildo out of my pocket and down the front of my track suit bottoms. Any noise was hidden by the sound of her broken breathing.