New Girl at the Old Blue Ball Pt. 01

Yorkshire, England. 1984. Margaret Thatcher is in power, Boy George is in the pop charts and Katie is about to take her first plunge into a new, exciting world.

New Girl at the Old Blue Ball Part 1.

Katie stood naked in her bedroom and studied herself in the full-length mirror.

She sighed. What will they all think, when they see me nude?

Since turning thirty, she had put a little weight on around her tummy, and she could grudgingly concede her breasts might not be quite as pert as they once were in her teenage years, but overall she was mostly comfortable with her body. And is any woman ever really happy with their body anyway? She softly ran her hand over her stomach and breathed in.

But despite her doubts, Katie knew inside she was considered attractive by most people. Her hair was naturally light brown, and she wore it long, straight, and parted on the right. This was quite unfashionable during the current era of big hair and shoulder pads, (most of her friends got through two cans of hairspray a week). But Katie was quite comfortable being seen by others as a 'hippie' type. 'More Joni Mitchell than Madonna', as someone had once said. Her face was open and friendly, and whilst not considered classically beautiful, her even features and large eyes gave her an air of cheeriness and quiet confidence.

Katie had known only three lovers in her life, the first two being embarrassingly inept due to drunkenness and inexperience, and the third being her husband, Mark.

Her ex-husband, Mark, as it happened. And since the divorce three years ago, Katie had gone through two distinct stages of her life. Firstly, she loved the freedom that came after seven years of an increasingly boring marriage. She relished being able to please herself in matters of food, entertainment, home furnishings and nights out. But during the first phase of this new freedom she actually felt guilty for loving the freedom so much. What a selfish life! Well-meaning friends chorused "you'll find someone else" and it seemed to Katie that enjoying living alone was somehow wrong.

But then came the second phase. The guilt began to disappear and she saw her new single life as empowering, exciting, and something to be cherished. Why feel guilty about enjoying being single? Whatever the future had in store for Katie, she wasn't about to throw it away by worrying that she hadn't got a man.

She bunched her hair up on her head, moved it around and pursed her lips. No, that look didn't suit her. She let her hair back down. It fell over her chest and covered her nipples, reaching just below the curve of her shapely breasts. She scooped it behind her neck, exposed her breasts and let her hands down and looked again in the mirror.

She'd always been slightly embarrassed by her nipples. They seemed too large for her breasts, and puffier than other girl's nipples in the changing room at school or the swimming baths, (how many lives have been damaged by fleeting changing room comparisons, thought Katie). When cold or aroused, her nipples soon lost their puffiness and stood very proud, hard and firm. Because of this, she was too self-conscious to go braless in a T shirt. Her breasts weren't large, but they were shapely. She often thought her nipples belonged to larger breasts.

She ran her fingers delicately over her nipples and they started tingling; stiffening and even the colour seemed to redden. She noticed a soft warm blush across her chest, just below her neck. Her heart beat a little heavier. She was getting aroused.

Outside, through the drawn curtains, she could hear a workman's radio blaring away. Top twenty sounds from Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet and Culture Club. It wasn't Katie's music, but she had to concede much of it was melodic enough. This reminded her that she needed to choose some music for next Thursday night. Five or six minutes' worth Mr Spencer said. He said most of the girls went for pop hits of the day, or songs with sexual content, like Marvin Gaye's Sexual Healing. That all sounded a bit obvious to Katie. She wanted her first time to be special, classy, more personal to her. She'd choose something instrumental, something vaguely Arabic perhaps, something with a sultry Eastern vibe. It had to be right, it had to be something special. After all, it wasn't every day you perform your first striptease show.

However ridiculous the idea of a divorced woman in her early thirties performing in a strip club for the first time might have seemed to others, to Katie it made perfect sense. Although she wasn't a sexually promiscuous person, she also wasn't a sexual prude. Her opinions on sex were enlightened, not judgmental. Consent was the key to everything, and she didn't judge promiscuity in women any different to men. She didn't, in any way, hold traditionally conservative views on sexuality. And although she considered herself sexually shy in essence, she didn't attach any negative morality to sexual pleasure taken from none-conventional means.

And everything had fallen in place so easily with the stripping booking. An old school friend who worked the local circuit set her up for the interview with Mr Spencer, who wasn't in the least bit lecherous as she imagined the club owners would be, ("Mr Spencer's lovely" Marie had said, "he really looks after the girls, it's the best club on the circuit"). Thankfully, he hadn't even wanted to see her nude in the flesh, he was happy with a series of photos Katie had taken with a tripod and timer, and gotten processed at a small chemist shop that offered discreet darkroom services.

She worked part-time at a florists shop, but would earn three weeks' worth of money in just one evening. The only stipulation was, she had to be on stage at least six minutes and be fully nude by the end of the act.

"Some girls give it a quick flash at the end" Mr Spencer had explained. "They drop their drawers and run off. That's okay but the girls that stay longer, and flash it about a bit, they get a better reception. And if it goes well, we'll put them on a Friday or even a Saturday. Saturday's the big one."

Marie explained how the club had strict rules. There were four bouncers keeping everything in check. Rowdy behavior wasn't tolerated. "The girls get respect at The Blue Ball" Marie said. "That's a rare thing, a lot of these clubs have blokes pissed up shouting abuse. None of that happens at The Blue Ball. It's the classiest strip club in Yorkshire. Couples go there see, men and women. Gangs of drunk blokes don't get in".

When Marie mentioned women would be there, it gave her a little jump her chest. So women would be looking at her too? Perhaps judging her, comparing their bodies to hers?

They'd be wondering what their men would be thinking of her perhaps? Wondering what the men would like to do to her? Would the women be thinking of doing things to her as well?

Katie held her head proud as she carried on looking in the mirror. She parted her legs slightly and looked down over her blushing chest, her bare breasts with nipples now taught and tingling, her soft belly and down to her pussy.

Was she really going to show a room full of strangers her pussy?

On a stage, in a spotlight?

Her heart pounded at the thought. The blush on her chest reddened and spread.

Marie had said you don't feel shy on the stage. She said the adrenaline takes over, and you're 'in the zone'. Would that be true for Katie?

Katie looked at the reflection of her pussy in the mirror. How much would they see?

At the swimming baths Katie didn't even like shared changing rooms. But whenever she was in a shared room, she was always fascinated by what she could, or couldn't see. Other people's bodies were a mystery. She once saw a woman who had completely shaved her pubic hair. You could plainly see her pussy lips, it fascinated Katie.

She looked at her own pussy as she stood in the mirror. Standing up, a neat triangle of dark brown fuzz was all she could see, (she only ever trimmed her pubic hair with nail scissors, she didn't shave. She wasn't naturally hairy and her swimming costume modestly covered everything).

She opened her legs a little further and moved her pelvis upward. She could now see her pussy lips. Is that what they will want to see?

"Flash it about a bit" Mr Spencer had said.

Katie reached down and parted her pussy lips with one hand. She was wet and it felt good. Would she get wet when she stripped?

Would they see her wetness?

She smiled. Shy Katie, aroused and naked in front of a room full of strangers. She stood slowly rubbing her pussy and feeling a warm tingle all over.

Why was she even doing it? Katie was an intelligent woman. She knew what sort of girls strippers were reputed to be, and she wasn't one of those. But somehow her shyness wasn't a reason for her not to do it. Somehow her shyness was perversely part of the reason for doing it. The thought of disrobing completely in front of strangers was as terrifying as it was exciting. Being naturally shy only made it all the more terrifying, and all the more exciting.

She turned and took a hand held mirror off the bed, so she could see the view in the mirror behind her. Her bottom was shapely, and she'd prefer it smaller, but it wasn't un-attractive she thought. She walked closer to the mirror, and remembered when her ex-husband Mark - an unimaginative man in the bedroom - wanted to do it 'doggy style' with the lights on. She wouldn't, she didn't want him looking at her bum, on display so vulgarly. So shy.

And yet . . .

She parted her legs and bent over. In the full length mirror she could see her bottom in the air, and everything exposed, her pussy lips, open and glistening between now slightly-matted hair. Her 'man in a boat', crying out to be pleasured. She reached behind and parted her cheeks even further, enjoying the feel of the free air around her most private parts. She slowly ran a finger from the start of the valley of her bottom, over her anus, her perineum, between her warm wet pussy lips and resting on her little man. She shuddered. It felt luxurious, and naughty, and Katie felt so alive, and energised.

It would soon be time.

The Blue Ball was almost full. Mr Spencer was pleased, and said they always had a good turnout when there was a new girl. This made Katie even more terrified and even more excited. She'd chosen a smart two-piece black outfit. Simple and stylish. A loose fitting blouse, a three-quarter skirt, and black silk bra and panties. The bra had a front clasp, and the panties undid at the sides, with lace that she had tied in bows. She didn't want to have to bend down when she took her panties off. She wanted to see people's faces the first time she exposed her pussy in public.

The stage was carpeted, so she decided she would be barefoot. It would be sexier. Marie had told her some girls get dressed up as nurses, or as schoolgirls, but Katie didn't want gimmicks.

There were four strippers on that evening. Katie was second, and on at 9.30. She was amazed to find the other girls weren't there when she arrived. The first stripper had left for another booking, and the others hadn't arrived yet, and wouldn't turn up till much later. Katie sat alone in the dressing room listening to the comedian, who was quite vulgar but not unfunny. Katie didn't laugh though, she was in a daze. What had seemed an excitingly naughty idea had now become reality. Katie didn't have second thoughts - she was far too decisive an individual than that. She did, however, find nothing sexy in the backstage area, which smelled of cigarettes and stale beer, and wondered if the experience would be quite as sensual as she'd hoped.

And then, it was time. She heard Mr Spencer on the microphone telling the crowd about her. It was quite sweet, he was actually explaining how it was her first time here, (he didn't say it was her first time anywhere), and he encouraged the audience to be "warmly receptive and respectful, as always", (Marie was right, he was a sweet guy in a sometimes dodgy business).

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Tanya!"

Marie had explained strippers never used their real names. Katie had plucked Tanya out the air, it was just a name she'd always liked.

The music started. Katie had chosen a slow, Eastern piece called 'Sands of Time' that had a certain animalistic, snake charmer feel. Katie grabbed her only prop, a bottle of baby oil, and walked onto the stage, coyly, with her arms behind her back.

The room was much hotter than the dressing room, and she was shocked to see she couldn't see all the faces, only the first few rows. The stage lights were bright in her eyes, and the room smelled of tobacco, alcohol and, strangely, talcum powder. Marie was correct; there were quite a few female faces in the crowd, some of them obviously younger than her, their boyfriends sporting the latest trendy haircuts, short at the sides and long at the back. They applauded, some cheered, and many of the faces (none of whom she recognised), were smiling.

She could see the four bouncers, two either side of the crowd, dressed in their dinner jackets. The crowd all wore shirts and ties as per the dress restrictions.

Katie put the bottle of baby oil down, and started swaying, slowly. She felt marvelous! She stretched her hands in the air and moved her hips gracefully, with a big smile on her face. She saw a few people whisper to their partners, who then nodded, smiling.

With only four items of clothes to remove (her top, skirt, bra and nickers), Katie danced for about a minute. Even though she would soon be fully exposed, it all felt so appropriate. It felt okay, and right. She decided to enjoy it to the fullest, and already felt much more confident than she expected.

She unbuttoned her blouse, and let it fall. She gently kicked it to the side of the stage. Then she let her skirt fall, and did the same. Now in just her underwear, she danced slowly and confidently to the Eastern rhythms. She saw Mr Spencer in side aisle, almost hidden by the smoky darkness. He gave her the 'thumbs up' with a big smile, and Katie felt even more blissful and confident. She expected the two large glasses of wine she'd quickly glugged backstage had helped calm her nerves somewhat. Dancing here on stage in her underwear with everyone watching her, felt strangely normal.

Then, 'the time when propriety is to be put aside' thought Katie. Dancing in her underwear was exhilarating, but people did much the same in their bikinis in the swimming baths. The next step was seriously naughty.

Katie's heart was pounding as she undid the front clasp on her bra, and very slowly opened the two silk cups and exposed her breasts to the crowd. There was a murmur of appreciation, smatter of applause and more smiles as Katie let the bra fall and stood there topless in front of a crowd for the first time. She let them drink in the sight of her breasts whilst her heart was trying to beat out of her chest.

This was wonderful!

Katie stretched her arms above her head and carried on with her slow dance. She looked down at her nipples and saw the heat of the lights and the comfort of the silk bra meant they were - at the moment - large and soft. She imagined how, later, when she used the baby oil, they would grow stiff and hard. She enjoyed the fact that the crowd would easily notice the change in her nipples, so exposed was she beneath the bright lights. She wanted them to see her arousal.

She was now feeling delightfully dizzy, dancing there in front of everyone in just her panties. The very thought of exposing herself fully was making her feel weak at the knees. She had expected to remove her panties whilst dancing, but Katie was finding the experience too overwhelming and was a little worried she might pass out.

She slowly dropped to her knees, and immediately felt better. She tried to do it gracefully it so it looked like part of the act. She still moved her body in rhythm, and people could see just as well, as the stage was quite high. So with her knees on the soft carpet, she reached either side of her panties, and found the lace bows, that with one pull would free the triangle of silk that stood between Katie and all of her modesty.

Katie splayed her knees apart as far as they'd go. She was surprising herself. She found she actually wanted and needed the crowd to see as much of her pussy as possible. She leant backwards, so that when she pulled the lace and removed her panties, the crowd would see not just her neat triangle of pubic hair, but also her open, wet pussy lips.

How can someone who turns their back and shields their private parts in a changing room, be so delirious at the thought of exposing themselves on a brightly lit stage, in front of a room of strangers? Katie, at this moment, didn't know or care. But she did think, as she pulled the two lace straps and the panties fell to the floor and she felt the air around her exposed vagina, that it was that same shyness that helped to make this moment of indecent exposure so incredibly, deliciously erotic.

She looked at the faces she could see, perhaps twenty or thirty or so, and they were all looking at her wet pussy. Every man and woman, (and why did the smiling faces of the women excite her so much?).

Yes, all looking at her wet pussy. How delightfully depraved!

She reached over to the baby oil, unscrewed the cap (noticing her hands were shaking), and dribbled it over her breasts. Streaks ran down her belly towards her pussy. Still on her knees, she slowly started rubbing it over her body, starting with her breasts and noticing how hard her nipples had become. She pinched and flicked them and smiled at the men and women watching.

Then she rubbed oil on her thighs, looking down at herself, shocked and giddy at her nakedness.

She lay back, with her legs still bent under her, to give everyone a better view of her pussy. She started rubbing oil into her pussy and it was like shock waves when she brushed her tender clitoris. She rubbed oil all over her pussy and into the valley of her bottom. She stretched her pussy open to show everyone her lips, her 'man in the boat', then she rubbed again. More shockwaves of pleasure.

The music was ending, fading out, but she couldn't stop. She extended her legs fully, lay on her back and began shamelessly masturbating in earnest, eyes closed. In the distance she could hear loud, guttural groans, which she realised were hers.

After thirty seconds or so of lying on her back masturbating with her eyes closed, she looked up, and what she saw almost sent her into delirium.

At the forefront of her peripheral vision, brightly lit in the spotlights were her stiff, oiled, proud nipples, pointing toward the lights over the stage. Further on, her pleasingly flat looking shiny belly, and then her soft mound of private hair, glistening under the light. Her hand moving quickly on it, two fingers making rapid circles with her thumb outstretched.

But it was beyond there, in the darkness beyond her splayed legs, where she found the most magical sight. Rows of faces looking transfixed at her pussy while she masturbated. Men and women, grinning, eyes wide and staring at her sopping cunt, her legs spread as far apart as she could manage. She found her pelvis rising in the air involuntarily, hungrily, as if the mere gaze from their eyes were as pleasurable as a lover's tongue.

Apart from her own moans, without the music playing there was a strangely serious silence, apart from the odd comment from the crowd.

"Wow!"

"Go on, girl"

"Beautiful"

And as the pleasure surged through Katie, so shamelessly exhibiting herself, (she'd never masturbated for her ex husband John, let alone anyone else), she took her left hand and pulled her left bottom cheek to one side, just to make sure that the crowd could see her bum. She supposed they already could, her legs were spread so wide, but she wanted to make sure they could see everything. She felt the muscle of her sphincter flex and relax as she masturbated. She wanted them to see it all.