Seduction or Betrayal? Ch. 07

'I was a bit of a show-off when I was in college.'

'I knew it.'

Her mind was racing; trying to remember what the women on the videos had done. She walked around a bit more and pushed her hands up into her hair. She remembered one of the big blondes doing it to make her tits wobble about. She looked down at her own. Maybe there was a bit of movement; she stuck out her chest to make the most of what she had and heard a little cheer from John.

'Nothing like this.'

She giggled as she ran her hands over her breasts. It wasn't often she managed to tickle herself.

'Just a bit of flashing at parties.'

She leaned forward towards John and pulled at the front of the dress again. From the way he quickly moved sideways she guessed he'd got a good peep at her nipples, so she shook her shoulders a couple of times before straightening up.

'Like them?'

'Gorgeous is getting a bit inadequate to describe your charms. I bet the lads liked that.'

'I noticed the odd stiffy now and then.'

She was looking John in the eyes and pulled a Miss Innocent face. She'd remembered one of the strippers from earlier had played that role for all it was worth.

'But you never found yourself parading about in a sweaty pub?'

'Never. I don't think they had them back then. Strip clubs were all poles and lap dancing. I was never that athletic.'

'Probably did. Just not in your part of town.'

Yvonne liked the way the music just kept a steady beat. It meant she didn't have to think about it. She found herself exaggerating the sway of her hips and shoulders like she had earlier in the evening. Her parade took her away from John and she looked over her shoulder.

'Didn't you say earlier you liked bottoms?'

'I think I used the wordarse actually. Apologies for that.'

She straightened her legs and pulled her skirt up to the tops of her stockings.

'You're forgiven. More?'

'Oh I think so, don't you?'

A couple of easy wrist movements and she could feel the material rubbing at the crease of her buttocks.

'You might lean forwards a little more.'

Yvonne bent from the waist and gathered the skirt right up to her waist exposing herself completely. She grinned at John's sudden look of surprise and then leering desire. The music didn't lend itself to twerking but she gyrated a bit and got a round of applause.

'I believe a wolf whistle might be in order.'

John blew softly between pursed lips and got another wiggle for his compliment. He felt another pulse of blood stiffen his cock as he watched the way the light shone brighter on the patches of skin which hadn't completely absorbed the post-spanking lotions. Yvonne turned and jerked her hip whilst slowly raising the skirt again. She was getting the hang of this, she told herself, and let it drop from the tops of her stockings before starting again. She enjoyed the look of expectation on John's face as the skirt got higher and this time she didn't disappoint him.

'Wow, now thatis a sight.'

'You like?'

'I do.'

She giggled and slipped her hand down over her pussy. She detected the slightest sign of regret as folds of satin tumbled over her wrist and covered the exaggerated movements she play acted under the cover. John gave a louder whistle of encouragement.

'You think I could give 'em a show at that pub then?'

Yvonne realised she was getting a bit giddy. Her head was full of memories of her exhibitionist youth. All fuzzed up by the combined effect of drink and dope. The effect she was having on John, she had to admit, was making her more excited than she expected. She didn't have to try too hard to imagine a room full of blokes like him getting all hot and bothered.

'You wouldn't be able to hear the music for guys yellingget 'em off by now.'

'I'd forgotten about that.'

She laughed as John's face settled into expectation once more. The knots she'd had in her stomach when she'd thought about doing a strip for him had gone. But whilst she'd been enjoying the showing off and the flashing, she'd given little thought to the technicalities of getting from clothed to naked. No one had ever accused her of being a good dancer and she could feel herself becoming self-conscious again. Still, she thought, for every problem there is a solution.

'So what should I start with? The stockings?'

'I think the dress. There's something about a girl with no knickers, but still in suspenders and stockings which is particularly erotic.'

John hadn't even paused for thought. Yvonne grinned at the speed of his reaction. She wagged a finger at him.

'You've put a lot more time in down at that Crown than you're admitting. Dress it is.'

She'd been standing more or less still while she chatted and started to sway her hips and shoulders again to get herself back in the mood.

'I used to get off sitting about just in my stockings and watching men's willies harden. How's yours doing?'

She was tugging at the shoulder straps of the dress. She'd seen the professionals slip their arms out before unzipping, or undoing bras, and thought that was the sexy way to do it. John ran his hand over his cock while she was so engaged.

'Fair to middling. Maybe if you undid the zip before sliding your arms out? Just a thought.'

'Thanks John. Feel free to chip in with direction. It's your treat after all.'

Her hands went behind her back to the zipper. A couple of tugs and it was down and she felt the dress sag forwards under the weight of her boobs. Her hand went to the shoulder strap on the left which had already slipped half-way off.

'Not so fast, sweetie,teasing remember?'

'Sorry, John.'

Yvonne pulled the errant strap back up and looked at him.

'No need to apologise. The stripper is always right. Eye contact's good though.'

He smiled encouragingly at her as she shook her boobs gently inside the loose fabric with both her hands holding it up. When she turned in front of him the slash between the two halves exposed the whole of her back. He ran a finger through the glistening sweat on her spine, it was just too tempting. Yvonne shivered and glanced back. He was sucking his finger.

'Is that allowed?'

'You're right, I should have offered it to you first.'

He held it out and she turned and took it all into her mouth.

'Not very big, but surprisingly firm. Nice.'

She turned away again laughing and put some extra oomph into her hips as she sashayed to the far end of the room before looking back. She told herself the fact that one of her tits fell out of the dress and she extracted her arm didn't matter as she still had her back turned. She stuck out her tongue when she saw John dodge to the side to get a glimpse of side-boob. She stretched her naked arm out to its full length like one of the strippers in he films before using it to adjust herself back inside the front.

'Naughty.'

'Guilty.'

They laughed together as she, more artfully this time, extracted get other arm and turned holding the bunched dress across her chest. John clapped and she made as if to drop the dress as a reward. She remembered what he'd said about eye contact as she came back to stand in front of him again. She managed to get an arm inside to over her breasts before raising the other, with a saucily-cocked wrist, and letting the dress fall.

'Fucking hell.'

'Not gorgeous then?'

Yvonne managed to get a hand over each boob without exposing her nipples to view and leaned forward to shake them in John's face. She skipped back a couple of steps when he reached forward as if to grab her.

'Curse your fancy footwork.'

John was seriously considering his bums-over-boobs priorities as she pranced around the room doing a sort of fan dance with her hands and forearm. They were both laughing as she pulled faces and made little gestures as ifthis time she really was going to show them to him. When she did eventually drop her hands to her hips and jiggle her hips so that her boobs shook and swayed John felt he was almost being hypnotised. Yvonne noticed.

'You're getting a bit goggle-eyed there. Like what you're seeing?'

John growled.

'Like it? I don't know whether to run home and get my paints, or chase you round the room with my knob in my hand. Bravo. And if that's not enough for you:more'

Yvonne blew him a kiss and hooked her thumbs inside the string of her thong. She'd seen a succession of performers playing with their knickers in various ways to turn the punters on. She just followed suit. John clapped along with what turned out to be virtually an entire playing of The Stripper; it had been on repeat since she first pressed play. But if anything Yvonne turned herself on more than him. The flimsy material left little to the imagination anyway and as tell-tale moisture spread it became virtually transparent. Tugging the gusset between her swelling labia - an occupational hazard she discovered - was sending electric thrills up her body. The fun she was having played out with bitten lips and closed eyes as she fought to retain John's gaze.

She never saw where he got the fiver from, but when she saw him preferring the folded note she sidled over to him with the waistband of the panties hooked under her buttocks and the lace barely covering her slit. She stood in front of him twisting her hip over a slightly bent knee. The best impression of a Vegas show girl she could muster at such short notice.

'That for me, big boy?'

Her American accent hadn't improved any. Her impression of someone chewing gum just made her look like she had something stuck in her teeth. But John liked the way her boobs jumped up and down in time with her bobbing and that she let his hands wander freely as he took his time pinioning the fiver securely under suspender elastic close to the clip on her stocking.

'I might have to borrow my bus fare home.'

It was a good job she was standing next to the sofa. She was half-way through trying to slink her panties down to her ankles - and not making too good a job of it, through be told - when the bad joke hit. She snorted snot out of her nose and the combination of moving one hand up to try and wipe it away, combined with the other continuing to pull downwards, caused her to topple in an ungainly heap onto the opposite end of the sofa from which John was sitting. She ended up half-sitting, half-lying, legs akimbo and caught wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Laughing despite herself. She tugged her knickers off her ankle and threw them at him.

'Bastard. You ruined my big finale.'

'Looked fine from where I'm sitting.'

'Still. Not the impact I was hoping for.'

'I don't know. Worked for me.'

He rubbed his hand gently over his clearly erect penis. Yvonne smiled, her own hand was already over her pussy.

'And I can honestly say I've never seen any stripper take their panties off like that before.'

'Seriously, you think I might pass muster down at that crumby pub?'

Yvonne wasn't sure whether John was continuing to stroke himself unknowingly, but she was getting strong flashbacks to her flat-sharing days. She adjusted her own rhythm to fit in with his.

'Obviously they'd have to improve the standard of soft furnishings if you were going to continue to involve stage diving in your climax. But seriously, if you were down there on a Friday night, there'd be a queue from the gents back into the bar.'

'Really? Why?'

John did a double take to make sure she wasn't trying it on with her naïveté. He then made a slow wanking motion with his free hand.

'Gentleman's relief.'

Yvonne felt herself blush slightly. It might have been the conversation, but she was fascinated by what John was doing to himself; it reminded her so much of Patrick. She found herself blurting her thoughts out before the more sensible side of her brain could kick in.

'Do they let the girls watch?

'What?'

John froze.

'Do the dancers, you know, get to see the blokes tossing themselves off?'

John ran his hand through his hair and looked at Yvonne trying to figure out where this was coming from. She was kneading the lips of her pussy together quite vigorously now, gripping her bottom lip between her teeth and had a look of utter seriousness in her eyes. Otherwise he would have brushed it off as some kind of elaborate piss-take. He cleared his throat trying to think of a light-hearted response. That he couldn't, reminded him how much he'd had to drink and smoke that night.

'I reckon they'd tip double if they could lure one in as an audience.'

'Don't stop.'

Yvonne nodded to the hand still motionless over his hard-on.

'Double eh? It's just that I used to really get off on doing this when I was in college.'

'Doing what?'

Yvonne gave a sharp nod while staring at his crotch. He started rubbing slowly up and down along the line of his zipper under the direction of her gaze.

'Watching guys masturbating while I diddled myself.'

'Diddled? Diddled? Is that what you used to call it?'

'You keep laughing, sunshine, and I'll stop doing this.'

She reached across and placed her hand over his to increase to the speed and pressure of his stroking 'til it was more in time with her own. She leered up at him.

'You want me to get little John out? Give him some fresh air?'

John mumbled something and then cleared his throat and tried again.

'I thought you said it was just masturbation?'

'You want to argue. OK. It started with straight wanking, but you know what boys are like? Always upping the odds.'

John laughed and looked into her eyes waiting for her to continue while she played with his zip.

'There might have been a few hand-jobs.'

She managed to get her hand inside his trousers and found his cock. She gripped and fondled it for a while as if judging its weight.

'And more than a few blow jobs on special occasions.'

She had started a steady pumping action despite the restrictions of trousers, shirt tails and underpants. John unbuttoned his waist band and tried to push the obstructions out of the way. She grinned at him.

'Like birthdays.'

She watched him and waited for her less-than-subtle hint to sink in while he struggled with his clothes. The smile lit up his face when he caught her drift.

'Birthdays, eh? And I bet they just loved burying their faces in that delectable pussy of yours?'

Yvonne concentrated on enjoying the new freedom she was getting now the pressure of clothes was lifted from around her wrist. She concentrated on long steady strokes with her thumb and forefinger hooked around his dick. She smiled as her trade-mark twist as she reached the head made him shudder. She had found her clit and was circling it like a shark round an occupied lilo.

'Nuh huh.'

'Sorry? That was fantastic by the way.'

'I said no, none of them ever went down on me.'

They both groaned at the magic of her fingers until John suddenly grabbed her wrist.

'Wait. You mean to tell me that none of them ever reciprocated? You've never been eaten out?'

'Stop it. Of course I have. A few times.'

She was desperate to get back to what they had been doing and tried to free her hand. John tightened his grip.

'A few times? Has the world gone completely mad? A few times? Is the younger generation completely bonkers?'

'The guys I went with weren't, you know, that into it.'

She sounded sheepish. John reached over and gently lifted her chin so she had to look him in the face.

'You mean you're not the regular hors d'oevre at the pussy picnic?'

She shook her head.

'The little man in the canoe doesn't get the kiss of life? Your honey pot's not visited constantly by the tongue-snake?'

She was laughing now.

'You've made those up. The answer'sno. So can we get back to me stroking your pole?'

There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she employed her own metaphor. But John was having none of it. He struggled into an upright position whilst not releasing his hand. Yvonne made a vain attempt to capture his bombing cock with her mouth. When he spoke, he sounded a bit cross. But she knew he was joking.

'No we cannot. There's a major shortcoming here which needs rectifying. An omission of unquantifiable proportions. Forget equal pay and the right to vote, this is a crime against woman-kind which men should take a lifetime to redress.'

They were both laughing now and Yvonne launched herself at him to kiss him on the mouth. Their tongues met and John stopped trying to speak.

'There are times, John, when you should just shut up and let a girl get down to what she's good at.'

She made another effort to take him in her mouth. He pushed her away from him gently but firmly.

'Stuff that. Before anything else goes on here tonight, you're getting fully lubricated. I'm tasting the box lunch whether you want it or not. It's my birthday present and I insist.'

Yvonne let the pressure of his hand on her shoulder move her backwards and she arranged herself comfortably opposite him, stretching her thighs apart as far as she could.

'Come on then. At least it will stop you yacking.'

Their eyes locked as John pushed his trousers down to his ankles and dropped a cushion onto the floor for his knees. He licked his lips lasciviously as he approached her. She put her hand on his shoulder just as he started kissing the inside of her thigh.

'Itwill stop you talking, won't it?'

She thought she heard a muffledmaybe, then his mouth engulfed her opening.

It was about that time, Yvonne thought, as she tried to reconstruct events the next morning, that things started to get a little hazy. She remembered her burst of pleasure as his tongue almost immediately found her clit. The small circles he drew around it with his tongue were wonderful; the pressure of his lips as he gently massaged and sucked it made her come almost straightaway. But he kept going.

Her head filled with memories of an earlier encounter: the only other time she'd had an orgasm by licking alone. She'd been crashing on a girlfriend's sofa, too tired to go home after clearing the wreckage of her birthday party. She'd been woken in the early hours by an unfamiliar sensation between her legs. Her friend's little brother - allowed up for the party after his final school exams - had been in a sleeping bag on the opposite side of the room. She'd thought abut stopping him, but remembered how sorry she felt for him so out of place among his sister's drunk mates, knowing no one. Maybe just a minute or two; just to give him stories to brag about when he got back. The minute turned into hours as he, pausing only to pick pubic hair from his teeth occasionally, licked, munched and sucked at her. What he lacked in expertise, he made up for in enthusiasm. After her second orgasm she'd somehow drifted back into oblivion promising something about a breakfast blow-job to make up for it. He was gone when she woke.

John didn't need to extricate wiry hairs, of course, but he also knew his way around a woman's anatomy. His fingers, soon brought into the action, touched the parts his tongue couldn't reach. The combination of softness and firm control soon had her panting. She remembered it was after orgasm-two that she felt his tongue feathering her anal bud. No one had ever done that to her before; she screamed, just for a second, when he pushed his tongue through the centre of the wrinkled star. This was entirely new ground for her, but clearly not for him.

She was pretty sure it had been her who insisted they move the party upstairs. She'd only realised he had one finger up her bottom when she felt her muscles stretch as he prepared to insert a second. She had been lying back entranced by the ride. Was it her guilt at abandoning hostess duties, or just the fact that she was craving a dick in her mouth, that made her suddenly extricate herself, clamp her hand on his and drag him towards the door? The transition was not without comedy, looking back. John waddling like a constipated duck as he tried to shuffle along with trousers round his ankles, was one thing. TheDads' Army panic when, half-way up the stairs, they both realised all the condoms were back in the front room had humour all its own.