Mrs Harrison - Peepshow Star

And then -- slap! Steve's hand had landed squarely across both cheeks.

'I bet you can spank a lot harder than that, sir,' she said encouragingly, and wiggled her bum.

Slap!

Now that one stung. And -- 'Ooh, what's this pressing up on me from between your legs, sir?' A giggle, and another wiggle.

Slap! That one was harder and louder still. It brought an excited gasp from one of the peepholes.

'Hmph!' said Steve. 'You young miscreant! I believe you know only too well what that is.'

Wiggle.

Slap!

Wiggle. An extra-wiggly wiggle against his cock where it pressed up. Heavy breathing was coming from many of the peepholes.

'Have you learned your lesson, Miss Smith?'

'I've not learned nothing, sir. Do it again sir, it's making my arse lovely and warm.'

'Why, you young --!' Steve grabbed her by the back of her blouse. 'Stand up,' he commanded, helping her up by dragging on the blouse.

'Bend over the stool.'

She took a step to the stool, and as she did so pulled the opening of her blouse wide of her breasts so that they were on full view. She knew men liked her dark-pink nipples. Large nipples, though her areolas were not big.

Steve's fingers twisted in the back of her collar and his knuckles forced her down towards the stool. She placed her hands on the clear plastic seat, arms straight, but he kept pressing till she was leaning well forward with her elbows bent and her breasts hanging. Of course, he must want her rear sticking right out.

As the stage revolved the peepholes were gliding past her, downward-pointing triangles which showed the punters' faces from their eyebrows to their lips. The nearest punter was gazing at her breasts, and the bobbing of his head showed that he was thrusting his pelvis while masturbating. She quickly squeezed her nipples to make them good and hard, and slid the blouse off her shoulders and down to her elbows. Then she gripped the stool again.

She expected another slap any moment, but next Steve dragged down her skirt. Then she felt Steve's fingers hook into the waistband of her panties, and skirt and panties were going right down past her knees together. They dropped to the floor, and she stepped out of them so that she could spread her legs. With any luck Steve would get a rear view of her pussy.

Slap!

Wow! This was up a level from OTK. Her skin was sizzling.

For a moment he kept his hand against her rear, grabbed a cheek and dug his fingers in.

She took a deep breath and gave another wiggle.

Slap!

That was harder still. He was getting a proper swing of his arm now. The air of the close black room was alive with hoarse male panting.

He had grabbed her cheek again. Her bum had got a bit squidgy in the last year or two, but he obviously didn't mind. Meanwhile, grunts and gasps came from every peephole.

Wiggle.

SLAP! A slap so loud that a short, woody reverberation thrilled from the plywood walls.

'Oww!'

That one had jumped to a higher level still. Adele gulped. She felt as though she'd been whacked by an infuriated gorilla armed with a bunch of stinging-nettles.

Next moment one of the punters let out a string of loud, blissful groans. Steve's mouth was suddenly by her ear. He murmured, 'We've got a cummer already. Well done.' Then he straightened up.

Adele hesitated. She must be doing things right. Still, she did not wiggle.

Steve asked sternly, 'Have you learned your lesson now, Miss Smith?'

'Oh, yes sir,' she said cheerfully. 'I've learned that you know how to make a bad girl's pussy wet, sir.'

'Why, you impudent young hussy! You're going the right way about getting another spank.'

'Please no, sir,' said Adele hastily. This gorgeous man's hand had got her hole aching for sex -- but you could have too much of a good thing.

'Then will you obey me from now on?'

The punters were calming down a little.

'Yes sir. I'll do anything you want. Anything at all.'

'Anything?'

'I only want to please you now, sir.'

'I will take you at your word, young lady,' Steve said meaningly.

A series of snaps. Steve was releasing the press-studs on his gown and shirt. A sighing rustle as they dropped to the floor. She waited breathlessly. He took a step nearer. Then she felt something shockingly thick pushed between the tops of her thighs. For a moment she thought it must be a sex toy, but there was the feel of living skin.

Pussy-juice had made the insides of her thighs slippery. She could feel the sturdy smoothness of his erection perfectly as he slid it between them, past her opening.

He must be gripping his cock by the base to angle it, because his fist arrived, near her rear hole. He slid it away, then his crotch pressed forward. The rough fabric of the tweed trousers rubbed her rear, making its reddened cheeks sting. Strong hands gripped her bare shoulders. His cock-shaft was against her pussy-lips. A squeeze with her thighs drew a faint grunt of pleasure from him, but then she spread her legs a little so that he could move freely.

He stood still for a few seconds. Adele was conscious of the punters' excited breathing again.

Then Steve began to run the shaft of his cock backwards and forwards over her wet pussy-lips. The distracting, stinging roughness of tweed had gone, so he must have dropped his trousers. She closed her eyes. So wet! If she'd needed moisturiser there was a whole potful down there, and still she was getting wetter by the second.

And then the tip of his penis was against her sex-hole. He was taking a grip on her pelvis, strong fingers grasping soft flesh.

She pleaded, 'Sir, I promise I won't be bad ever again if you'll just fuck me nice, sir, please sir, right now please sir.'

Steve gave a stern grunt, but then the tip was entering her.

She took a sharp breath. The way it was stretching her! She had longed for Steve's bigness, but she hadn't thought about what it would do to her sex passage. She mustn't tense up. Then she found that though it was stretching her like no cock had ever stretched her before, it was stretching her beautifully.

He filled her in one slow, deep, relentless thrust.

His pelvis was against her rear again, flesh against flesh, his muscular firmness against her softness. He leaned forward until his torso was against her back. She felt the hair on his chest and pictured crisp grey and black curls. He reached round her and roughly seized her breasts.

A punter was exactly ahead of her. He had his eyes half-closed, watching Steve's hands as they gripped her tits, kneading her nipples.

Steve spoke softly into her ear. 'Straighten up.' He moved his hands and arms down around her ribcage. She straightened, and he lifted her. Her weight drove her down, toes just brushing the floor, and she found herself deeply impaled on rigid cock, with the top of his tight balls pressing at her entrance. Behind, his crotch was so hard against her that her cheeks were forced apart and his coarse pubic hair pressed against her anus. She lifted her legs and crooked them behind his calves, suddenly aware of the white knee-socks between her skin and his. Her shoes had fallen off at some point.

Another punter came into view, his eyes wide beyond the peephole, his mouth an O. He was getting a good view of her whole body, and of Steve's balls jammed against her pussy. She grinned happily and squeezed her nipples to give him a little extra thrill.

Steve could only make small thrusts with his pelvis in this position. She lifted one foot sideways and put it on the clear plastic footrest of the bar stool. Now she could take some weight off Steve and raise herself. Only an inch or two, but at once he was moving much more freely.

From the peepholes came a soft storm of panting and grunting. He was licking her neck. His head nudged the straw boater. Her voice came out a breathless, yearning moan. 'Fuck me hard, sir, and I'll be your good obedient girl for ever.' She rolled her nipples between her fingers. 'Oh sir, you do fuck me nice, sir.'

The stage turned. Eyes surrounded her. She vaguely realised that Steve probably wanted every one of the punters to get a front view. Well, this could go on for an hour as far as she was concerned, and the more bad men rubbed their dicks to her the better.

The peepholes passed in procession, shadowed triangles in the black walls. Adele's gaze was caught by a dark pair of eyes fixed on Steve's bigness as it pumped between her stretched-taut pussy lips. As the eyes passed her, the eyelids drooped, the watcher's dark-skinned head lolled and a series of soft orgasmic moans came through the peephole.

That pushed Adele to the edge. She had never before been able to reach orgasm without attention to her clitoris, but she was heading towards a climax now. 'Sir.' Her voice was a sighing, pleading moan. 'Sir, shoot me lots of cum up my pussy now, sir, please, sir. Please.'

But Steve was pulling out. Maybe he'd been near cumming himself. She begged pitifully, 'Please fuck me more sir, you do it so beautiful.'

'Silence, young lady,' Steve replied sternly. 'This is a lesson in unquestioning obedience.'

He released her from his arms and she stood on the floor again. His body was no longer against her. She felt him take hold of her blouse, then he was dragging it down -- dragging it right off her, leaving her completely naked except for her socks, the hat and her watch. She felt a powerful hand on her upper arm. He turned her round.

'Oh sir, you're so masterful! Are you going to make me lie down and have my pussy licked?'

'Certainly not.'

'Oh sir!' she pouted. 'I taste really good, sir. I've often tasted myself. And I bet you're really good at licking pussy, sir.' She looked up at him with sly innocence. 'You know, the lady teachers will be queuing at your study door after I tell them what an amazing fuck you are, sir.'

'What!' Steve struggled to keep laughter out of his voice.

'Why sir, it's almost like you're not proud of your lovely big dick, sir. Don't you want me to tell the whole school how good you are with it, sir?'

'No!'

'But I shouldn't keep it to myself, sir, should I? That would be selfish.'

'Young lady, some moral questions are too complex for you to understand.'

'Maybe it would help me understand if you licked my pretty pussy, sir.'

'Why, you cunning vixen, you!'

'I am, aren't I sir?'

He frowned, though his mouth still tended to curl at the corners. 'Hmph. Perhaps if you just lie down on the ottoman with your legs open we can keep all this a secret between ourselves.'

'Willingly, sir. I only want to be a good girl now.'

Adele sat on the ottoman. 'Ouch, sir!' she giggled. 'My bum tingles so I can hardly sit down.' She pivoted on her tingling rear nevertheless, and lay flat along the length of the red leather upholstery, carefully resting her head partly over the end because of the rim of the straw boater. But her pussy was probably not well-placed for Steve, so she pivoted on her back, shuffled her rump to the edge, spread her legs and dropped one foot to the floor.

Steve was now standing near her feet, completely naked, his magnificent erection glistening with her vaginal juices. He was clearly enjoying the sight of her body. Adele was relieved that she'd trimmed her hair down there -- he was probably used to waxed pussies, but at least hers looked as though she took pride in it. To show it off she placed a hand on either side, palms down, with the tips of her thumbs touching above it. 'Do you think I've got a nice one, sir?' she asked coquettishly.

'Allow me to inspect it more closely,' said Steve, kneeling next to the ottoman. He pushed her free leg wider and leaned forward with his face a few inches from her wet labia. 'A very pretty pink, Miss Smith,' he declared, and planted a kiss.

He lifted his head to shoot her a smile so devilish he might have borrowed it from Mephistopheles, opened his mouth, and pressed his tongue flat between her inner lips. Then he slid his tongue up and down the pink valley. After a little of this he teased her inner lips with a series of little nibbling kisses, first one side, then the other.

From all around came panting, sighs and rough, dog-like breaths. For the pleasure of the audience she put the fingers of each hand in her mouth, gathered a lot of saliva on them, and rolled her nipples in her slippery fingers.

Steve began sucking on her clit, until he released it with a smack of his lips, teased it with rapid flicks of the tip of his tongue, then sucked it again.

'Oh sir, sir...,' Adele moaned.

She felt strong fingers against her thigh. Then the fingers were entering her. She was still loose from his thick erection, and it seemed he had slid four fingers inside her, pressed together. He was sliding them in and out almost to the top knuckles, stretching her again. 'Oh sir...'

His tongue-tip was rubbing her clit. 'Sir, sir...' He was pressing his tongue flat near her cunt-hole, then running it up to her clit. A hard, wet drag of his tongue across her clit, then starting again near her hole. And again. And again...

Next he put his free hand at the top of her thigh and slid it to her cunt. She felt fingers in the short pussy-curls above her clit. Now he was pulling the skin above her clit upwards, drawing the hood up. He lifted his head away from her. She craned her neck to look along her body. He was gazing at her cunt. Really looking at it. Enjoying the sight of it. She felt his hot, panting breath on her clit for a moment, then he was passionately kissing it.

She was going to cum soon. She liked her nipples treated roughly while she climaxed. She grabbed them firmly and yanked them up, twisting. Steve seemed to know she was ready -- he sucked on her clit again while his tongue worked its hardest.

As she climaxed she was vaguely aware that she was moaning loudly, 'Ooh sir!' over and over. Many of the men were getting loud too -- gasps, groans and grunts filled the hot, black space.

She floated clear from the warm sea of orgasm to gaze serenely upwards. Three spotlights and a low black ceiling were slowly revolving.

Looking along her body, Adele discovered Steve's eyes twinkling back at her over her curl-topped pubic mount. His wicked eyes. She reached down and took his head in her hands. He raised his head and smiled at her with lips glistening with her sex juice.

The punters had gone quiet apart from some gentle panting. Maybe it was all over.

She had forgotten about 'the moment of truth'. Steve stood up, took his proud penis in his hand and began masturbating. His fingers and thumb encircled his foreskin -- she was pretty sure her own fingers wouldn't actually meet around his cock -- and he was sliding his foreskin up and down. From where she was lying his cock seemed to reach almost to his navel. He had his balls cupped in his other hand. He was gazing at her breasts, so she folded her arms under them and squeezed them together to make the most of them.

His hand worked faster, his gaze shifted to her pussy, and she was surprised by a fresh surge of lust, so soon after her climax.

He took a long, deep breath and slowed. He pushed his erection down to the horizontal. A few more steady strokes, then a rope of white sperm flung itself from the tip of the dark, smooth helmet. It splashed onto her belly just under her navel, and another one flew out and landed above it. With a half-smile of delight she gazed at this fascinating natural phenomenon. As he went on the force diminished until the rich semen was splashing straight down onto her pussy.

She could hear that a few punters had saved their own orgasms for this.

Steve sighed a long sigh, the last drop hung on the tip without falling, his shoulders relaxed, and he stood still with bowed head while the stage slowly turned.

Then the spotlights were turned off and the only light came from a green emergency exit sign above the black curtain. The stage stopped with a jerk. Adele sat up. She could dimly see Steve, bending by the stool as he took things from the floor -- her shoes and panties. He straightened up, murmured, 'Exeunt omnes,' in her ear, and they were heading back to the dressing room.

*

Adele took the top off a bottle of mineral water and said, 'He told me he does it to keep a little bit of the old Soho alive. He obviously doesn't need the pay.'

'How could you tell that?' Dessi asked.

Adele poured some of the mineral water into the pot of the fern she kept by her monitor. 'He mentioned he was going to a restaurant afterwards -- I'll remember the name in a minute -- one of those famous ones. Where unless you're a celebrity or a cabinet minister most people have to book a year in advance. He said he always eats there after a show. He was actually rather keen for me to come with him, but obviously I couldn't.'

'Gosh!' Dessi dark eyes were as round as the top of the plant pot. 'But -- so -- what had actually happened to Steve?'

Adele pivoted her chair back to face Dessi. 'How do you mean?'

'Your husband, Steve. What had happened to him?'

'Oh, him. He'd got Berwick Street mixed up with Brewer Street. I didn't turn up at Brewer Street, and I didn't answer my phone, so he phoned some of his football mates and they got together in a pub quite near. There were a lot of gay people there, apparently, which would've made him uncomfortable normally, so I'd guess he was already a bit drunk.' She added, 'His team won.'

'But when you met up -- didn't he ask what you'd been doing all that time?'

'I pretended to be too angry to talk about it. And I made him take me to a restaurant that was about three times more expensive than the one he originally wanted. Guilt is a wonderful thing, isn't it? I'm glad I don't suffer from it.'

Dessi gazed at Adele with something like awe. 'Still, you didn't get everything you wanted. You never handled Steve's dick. Sex Steve, I mean.'

'Oh, didn't I? There's a shower there. I needed to wash his cum off me. He offered to hold the shower head, and -- well, he happened to be nude.'

'Go on.' Dessi stared breathlessly at Adele's face.

Adele laughed. 'So in fact I just washed his big willy for him and left it at that. I really needed to go and find out what happened to my missing husband.'

'Still, you'll see him again?'

'He'd like to see me again. He said I was the best co-star he'd ever had.'

'No!'

Steve's enthusiasm had surprised Adele, too, but she said, 'I don't know why you're so astonished,' and Dessi looked contrite.

'Anyway, apparently, the women he usually works with do it all the time. I suppose they're a bit jaded. He said my enthusiasm was refreshing. And they generally fake their orgasms, which must get dispiriting.'

'Adele,' Dessi said gravely, 'this could be the start of one of the great love affairs.'

So very Dessi! Adele managed not to smile as she said, 'Look...' She reached under her desk and brought out her bag, undid the clasp, and frowned, and poked in an inner pocket until she found a small sheet of paper. 'He gave me his phone number.' She handed the paper to Dessi.

Dessi looked at one side of the paper, then at the other. 'But this is just a piece of paper with a kiss on it.'

'Yes it is. Because I tore off his number and threw it away. You need to understand, Dessi. Sex-Steve is the man of my dreams, but this is reality. I bet in reality he hogs the duvet and doesn't clean the bath properly, just like husband-Steve, and he'd neglect me for some stupid hobby (which in his case is probably other women). I think I'll just let him stay in my dreams.'

Dessi stared again. 'Adele, that is so wise.'

'Thank you, Dessi.'

All the same, it was good to know she could find Steve again, if she wanted to.