Talent Scout Ch. 01

*** Strippers ***

Every small town has a version of a honky-tonk, enticing the local farm girls who dream of a glamourous life in show biz. Stripping for the working rednecks wasn't the big time but it was a start. The club owners were also looking for opportunities to enhance their profits and were readily willing to pass along leads to the adult entertainment talent scouts. Ned Jackson was one of those who incentivized the leads.

He had examined the lineup of player possibilities from one such establishment and duly scheduled a weekend visit. He anonymously watched the whole show on Friday and Saturday night and informed the club manager of his selected interests among the semi-amateur roster.

Sunday night was reserved for his private show and deeper examinations.

Carol Higgins, stage name Huggies, was well into her stage strip routine. Her marquee nomenclature referred to her perfect teardrop tits: full round bases with shapely tapering slopes leading to ample pointed nipples. The bouncy beauties hung maidenly firm on her chest, a little uptilt and opening apart to attract the discerning male eye. That bare lush cleavage could accommodate, as had happened before, the faces accompanying those manly eyes in the VIP room after her stage performance. After work and off-premises, the soft masses might also be crushed against the brawny chests of the paying men whose cocks sluiced her juicy cunt to a mutual fulfillment.

And tonight, she danced for her single elite customer Mr Jackson, whom the manager had promised could be quite instrumental in her potential career evolution. Huggies was very motivated to make this one of her best-ever performances in every sense.

Her many poses and angles showed off her plush tits: back-bends that formed her boobs into flattened toruses on her upturned chest, bent over dangling pendants that she cupped, kneaded, and dropped to show their natural forms in motion, rear-facing shimmies that, with arms slithering aloft, exhibited the sidewinder curves past her torso. Then full-frontal standing shimmies that bobbled her mammary meat. The energetic motions were designed to flip away her loose body coverings, rhythmically and seductively, to fully reveal her tits and the rest of her lush body.

Combined with intermingled twerks and twirls, she pirouetted her shapely fuckable figure in her efforts to hopefully delight and, more importantly, arouse the munificence of tonight's macho patron.

As often as possible, Carol watched for tell-tale clues that her act was working. Ned's squinted eyes and occasional squiggles in his seat confirmed that she had the sexual attention of her one-man audience.

He was already naked and his cock was thick in his hand. She could dispense with the delaying walk to the VIP room; Ned was her sole focus tonight, watching her from the closest table in the empty theatre.

She had been coached that she was here for his exclusive entertainment and use, if necessary, both on and off stage. The disco-beat music that had accompanied her up-tempo routine now transitioned to a softer, smoother rhythm. Her gyrations finally bared her of her dance costume, heated and sweaty by the hearty exercise, she paused to gather her breath and energy before swaying in catwalk gracefulness to his seat. Her high heels gave her the perfect height to easily straddle his lap.

Arching her back and thrusting her chest forward, she presented her tits for his use, or abuse, if he liked.

He took the invitation, licked and sucked her nipples while she cuddled his neck and slicked the length of his upright tumescent cock with her warm wet labia. Ned nestled his nose in her soft chest crevasse, smelling her fragrantly female perspiration. His cock had responded to her genital massage and grown longer and more rigid, ready for its accustomed role.

She deemed his erection solid enough for further activities. Her dexterous cuneal cleft captured his tip and levered it to a proper pose. She preceded with short pushes and pulls, gradually descending her wet vaginal tube down over the embedded meat until she had captured its full length.

Slides were interspersed with hip rolls and revolutions at the deepest penetrations with clever pauses for rippling cunt clenches. It was a demanding toil but her chosen duty, and despite the efforts focused on his pleasure, she was succumbing to her own foreplay. Her tits tingled from his bearded facial caresses and they sent little electric signals to her throbbing pussy.

Ned continued to bury his face in her cleavage and his moans increased in enthusiasm. At his rise to the crest of excitement, he roared his ejaculatory cry and flooded his lap-mate's cunt with manly fluids. She felt the coital discharge and whimpered through the spinal shudders of her own whole-body orgasm.

As the pair retreated from paradise, he slumped back against his seat, reposing exhausted in her embrace. She cuddled his face in her big soft boobs, kissed his forehead while whispering lauds of praise for his virility. He smiled at the obligatory praise from his recruitment candidate.

He held her body close to his in the afterglow as his cock withered and fell out. He felt the leaking cum dribble down his balls and inner thighs where it would leave a stain on the velvet seat cushion.

The romantic background music died and the lights faded. She rose slowly and helped her weary man to stand, leading him by the hand back to her gentleman's club-furnished quarters for the remainder of this evaluation assessment evening, intent on providing a full measure of superior services to her potential career patron.

In the morning, Ned concluded his talent scout responsibilities. Having confirmed his visual and physical opinion of her artistic acuities, he informed her that she would receive a very lucrative placement offer as a special client artiste at a secluded elite venue in tropical climes away from the wintery upper Midwest.

Carol Higgins aka Huggies, was delighted to accept the better gig in an upscale venue away from her backwater hometown and its seedy stripper honkytonk.

*** Ballerinas ***

It wasn't his usual venue but a matronly madam friend had advised him that certain men liked slimmer, less buxom girls and told him where to find them. Ballet schools produced lithe, muscular dancers and while their dream was to go on to music academy greatness, some just didn't quite make the grade.

Rather than give up the practice completely, they went on to humdrum office or retail jobs and sought side gigs to maintain a modicum of dancing while adding to their less-than-stellar incomes.

So, that was how it was that Ned sat at a gentleman club's table where a topless hostess had guided him and a thong and heels-clad waitress had delivered his drink.

It was her role to tolerate his hand smoothing over her bare ass cheeks and the other popping her midsized tit before turning away to fulfill her other patrons' needs.

His attention was led stage-ward as the house lights dimmed in the room and a ballet-themed stage show commenced.

A girl, dressed as Lil Red Riding Hood, in soft shoes and stage makeup, crept fearfully onto the stage. She peered around and tiptoed among the stage prop forest tree trunks. A boy, costumed as a wolf, strode boldly out from the other side. He spotted the red costumed maiden and slinked stealthily forward.

The girl spied his approach and bolted away, invoking a dance and pantomime of a desperate getaway. Her reaction brought on a forest chase, pretending to hide behind the faux trees, barely dodging capture as the Wolf grabbed a piece of her clothing that peeled off as she made her escape.

Time and again, piece by piece, she was almost caught, increasingly denuded, while the Wolf's exposed hardon grew larger and wieldier with his unsuccessful attempts to conquer his quarry.

She was down to panties, breathing heavily, modest bare boobs bobbling, acting wearied from her desperate evasion. But the Wolf showed more stamina and finally succeeded in his sexual quest.

He caught her at last and manhandled her body over a stage prop log. Pressing down on her low back, holding her tummy tight to the horizontal brace, he spread her frantically wagging ass cheeks and placed himself for penetration.

She shook her body in agitation, arms thrashing, trying to get loose. But he held her tight and, with an evil grin directed at the audience, jammed his hips forward and violently pierced her cunt. She lifted her head as she cried out and tried to look back where the shaft pinioned her pussy.

But he grabbed her hair and wrenched her face forward, denying her a view of her violation.

Stroking his cock deep in her soft wet cunt, he executed a series of hearty cycles. Drawing out his wet erection, he fiercely twisted her over, bending her backwards over the same log. Her legs flailed in desperation until he braced them over his shoulders.

He lined up and plowed again into her gaping pussy. He held her hips as she beat her fists against his chest in protest. But to no avail. His hips rammed his solid shaft in long strokes.

Meanwhile, Ned watched the show with growing arousal, aided by the returned topless waitress who was kneeling at his feet and deep-throating his exposed erection. He clutched her head as she bobbed her lips all along his manhood.

Both he and the wolf-boy were reaching their ultimate limits and, when the stage pseudo-rapist finally drove deep and tilted his head back with a forest-worthy howl, Ned pressed his fellatrix's head hard against his groin. Both assertive males sprayed their spunk into their chosen feminine orifice.

The stage scene went dark.

Ned's cocksucker held him calmly in her mouth, suckling gently as he deflated. He fondly tapped her cheek and she slid off his flaccid tube of meat and skin, holding the mild suction until his knob passed her pursed lips.

She looked up at him, swept her tongue over her cum-stung lips, and gave a shy smile. He nodded and smiled back, satisfied with her efforts.

She rose and turned to leave; he smacked her ass in farewell. And signaled the club manager that he would recruit away the well fucked lithe ballerina.

*** Showgirls ***

A half-dozen female performers in glittery silver headdresses and thin maillot costumes that were almost transparent in the splashes of random spotlight orbits, gracefully performed a group exhibition of interlacing lines and rounds onstage. Their costumes revealed shadows of pink nipples and pussies.

The showgirls were well-versed in their rehearsed routines. They made flirty ass and boob bops intermixed with seemingly innocent, though not likely, twirls and nip flashes accompanied by flaunty foxy smiles.

Ned was more than a little entranced by this number of remarkable young ladies that could be any man's fantasy for a one-night stand, or, even better, with more frequency. That is, if the gods were feeling particularly generous.

And in one sense they were for Ned. He was well-known to each lady on stage. He had recruited all of them over the past months, liberating them from dusty backwater venues. They had shown their intimate gratitude then, and several times since, for his fortuitous intervention in their lives and careers. And tonight would be a gleeful repetition of their appreciation.

Their shapely bodies inside the flirty costumes combined with their spirited enactments were a subtle indicator of the underlying physical athleticism which could generate supreme macho gratification when serving the egotistical and sexual needs of an alpha male.

The sexy sextet rounded into a line and flounced offstage to audience applause. It was the culmination of the evening's onstage entertainment. While others gathered their female companions for nighttime escapades elsewhere, Ned wandered backstage. Mr Jackson was well known by the bouncers and performers as a privileged guest free to roam the facility at will. He found the showgirls' dressing room and entered as was his due.

The girls were in various states of dress, or undress, which hardly mattered. The onstage illusion of translucence was substantiated by the virtually transparent nature of the thin costume veils speckled with tiny glittery sequins. Bare boobs and veiled boobs equally presented the bounty of tit flesh on display.

The stage facial makeup seemed a bit garish in the full light but each artiste had worked hard to make an alluring presentation. An impression that would attract the benevolence of the alpha male oglers then and the special attendee of the post-production party about to unfold.

The nearest one touched Ned's shoulder, moved her half-naked body to his front, used two fingers to steady his chin, and planted a kiss on his lips that lasted long enough for her to dart her tongue inside to tickle against his. She let off and slipped aside as another took her place.

The second one held his face as she replicated her colleague's smooch. The reception line continued until each had welcomed their mentor and benefactor to their lair. He was the man who had found them in far-flung locales, verified their willingness to move to this premier setting, and fucked them each to confirm they possessed the man-pleasing skills beyond simple visual stage titillation.

Ned felt fingers at his fly as a girl opened his zipper and tunneled her fingers inside to extract and expose his tumescent rod. They stepped back, forming a sextet lineup of erotic artistes, allowing Ned to observe their luscious bodies and make his choice of tonight's partners.

It had been a few months since his last visit; those other times he usually only chose one, sometimes two. But tonight, despite his discharge during their onstage extravaganza, he already felt ready to rumble again.

He moved to the long velvet upholstered divan and stretched out, closed his eyes, and waved a summons for all to approach and take part in an orgiastic group play.

Laying quiescent, he heard heeled steps in his direction, felt the air move on his face and hands, then felt more fingers, similar to the ones that had extracted his cock, now corporately working to denude his entire body.

They were leisurely unbuttoning his clothes, spreading the fabrics, manually shifting his body to slip off shoes, sox, shirt, and trousers, and, finally, boxers, until he lay supine and naked, ready to be immersed in their eroticism and indulged by their eager feminine sensualities.

Lips touched his face, a tongue poking at his mouth. A cheek touched his belly, tresses tickled his chest. A warm breath preceded the touch of warm lips on his cock knob. His tumescent shaft lay on his groin but the soft feminine cheek slid further down, pausing momentarily to suckle his corona.

A tongue swept his balls, then the accompanying mouth engulfed his hairy scrotum and he felt the warm breathes of two females on the space between the base of his cock and the top of his sac. He imagined the scene of two mouths stuffed with his male genitalia, two noses touching while their eyes were locked on each other, daring the other to move first.

Cock-in-mouth took the challenge and made a swallowing move, massaging Ned's corona with her tonsils. His moan, though a bit distant and muffled by another girl's mouth on his, now made it scrotum-in-mouth's turn. Her tongue tip extended through her lips and tickled his perineum. That got her a louder masculine moan and upped the challenge. Both girls worked their magic together.

Meanwhile, two of the showgirls knelt either side of his body and proceeded to tongue and suck Mr Jackson's nipples. They took his free hands and pulled them to their dangling boobs, encouraging his fondles.

Ned was now being serviced at all his erogenous zones. His body was tense with sensations everywhere, even his toes tingled. He knew the signs and he couldn't last much longer.

He felt the rush start in his groin, travel up his spine, and explode in his mind. Jets of cum shot straight down tonsil-teaser's gullet. The girl at his face relented and let his ecstatic cry fly free. Unbeknownst to his consciousness, his hands gripped tight on both of his nipple suckers' dangling tits. His jerking body was engulfed in female erotism. He vibrated to a calmness and gusted through a much-welcomed re-oxygenation.

The many mouths released their suction on his body and the girls kneeled up beside him, keeping watch, devoted to his pleasure and welfare, as his détente worked into this post-orgasmic lassitude.

Ned opened his eyes to find five of the showgirls fixated on his face, alert to signs of his needs. The sixth was already washing his groin with a warm cloth. He closed his eyes to doze off as a blanket covered his cooling body.

During the half-sleep, he daydreamed of being gently fucked in cowgirl. The sensations were so realistic that he became aware of a showgirl fucking his returned erection. Her tits wobbled as she rode him in a fusion of strokes, twerks and slides. The last of his reserves were expelled into the sweet pussy of his last fuck-mate of the evening.

Ned would return another day to sample and savor the backstage joys of the grateful showgirls' devotions.