Angel on the StagebyBoxlicker101©
Even on a bed, the position is not Angel's favorite for fucking, and the boards on the stage hurt her knees. After a minute of letting the audience see her from that angle, she rolled onto her back, which is what she much prefers. With her legs spread even farther apart and her feet flat on the floor, she reached under her body and put her main giver and receiver of pleasure fully on display again. Over and over, she thrust her pussy at the audience, moving from side to side and letting them imagine what she knew they would.
Angel's imagination was active too. Once again, her mind pictured the same man, but this time he was looking down and smiling as he plunged his cock in and out of her and fondled her clit. Although she knew it wasn't real, she could almost feel him cramming her pussy, and wondered whether it would feel as good and stuff her as full and as well as some of her men friends did. The erotic thoughts added to her horniness and made her fuck harder and faster into the air, just as the tempo of the music increased, with the beat becoming faster. As a loud drum solo pounded, Angel's body jerked and spasmed, as if she were climaxing. A crash of cymbals signaled the end of the song and the end of the show.
With the music stopped, Angel stayed where she was for a minute before getting to her feet and spreading her arms to the cacophony of cheers and whistles, as if to encompass the entire audience in a giant hug. She bowed to all corners of the room and, after straightening up, blew two-handed kisses to everybody. Finally, she turned and hurried off the stage. Like the fucking, her orgasm had been only simulated, but she urgently needed to go to her dressing room for the few strokes of her hand that would give herself a real one. Before that could happen, however, Madame Josephine strode onto the stage and turned to face the crowd. Bertie dimmed the lights because so much brightness was no longer needed, and Jo turned to face the crowd, the biggest one in the history of the club.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, that was the LOVELY ANGEL! Let's hear it for her! Tell her how much you loved her!"
They told her alright, long and loud. Everybody was standing and cheering and whistling. Some were standing on their chairs again. One inebriated fellow tried to stand on a table but his companions persuaded him not to. Even though her clit felt as if it would burst through its tightly-stretched skin, her love for everybody in the crowd made her return to take another bow. Still naked and horny, Angel skipped out onto the stage, spreading her arms for more hugging, and blowing more kisses, before bowing again to all corners of the room. The dimmer lights shining on the stage allowed her to see some individual members of the audience, and once again, she caught the eye of the handsome man who had so fascinated her. Once again, they exchanged a quick, secret smile.
Angel left the stage again, but returned six more times to repeat the routine and thank the audience for their display of love and appreciation. Finally, the noise faded and most of them were sitting down, and Angel was able to head to her dressing room so she could attend to her urgent needs. On the way there, she heard Jo telling everybody that the show was over for that night, but The Lovely Angel would return the following evening.
Once in her sanctuary with the door locked, Angel grabbed facial tissue from the makeup table and wrapped it around her clit as she sat in the chair. It took just a few dozen strokes of her hand before she saturated the tissue with a gusher of semen. As she ejaculated, a great flood of pleasure and relief washed over her body, and she slumped forward. A minute later, much refreshed, Angel flushed away the soggy mess, cleaned herself off and dressed in the clothing that was still hanging behind the screen. Bertie Capp would see to the things she had removed and she hoped Josephine would provide her a replacement G-String.
A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door, followed by Jo's voice. "Angel? There are some friends here to see you when you're ready."
"Okay." Angel went to the door and opened it. There were Jo and a small group of the regular customers. She quickly scanned the faces and saw, to her disappointment, that the man of her erotic thoughts was not there.
Jo was the first one to enter. "My dear, you were sensational!" she told Angel while hugging her, and just before kissing her on the cheek. "Even I was turned on, and I'm one hundred percent straight."
The others, all men, echoed Jo's opinion of what a terrific show she had put on, and how beautiful and sexy she was. They all hugged her and kissed her also. Although all the men would have much preferred to kiss her long and lingeringly on her red lips, that is something she reserves for a special few, and the men in her dressing room had to be content with kissing her cheek. They all stayed and chatted for a few minutes, mostly about Angel, and telling her over again how great she had been and how sexy she was, before taking their leave. Madame Josephine left also, saying she wanted to talk later, but that she had business to attend to first.
Angel was left alone again, almost in a state of euphoria from the admiration and love of her fans and even her employer. She was interrupted in her thoughts by another knock on the door and the voice of Bertie Capp telling her he had flowers for her. When Angel opened the door, the diminutive Bertie was almost invisible behind the huge armful of long-stemmed roses that must have come from one of the flower shops in the district. The shops stayed open late and, for a high price, provided flowers and other gift items for those who wanted to send or take them to performers at the night clubs.
The engraved card attached included the name "George Box." The name brought back mixed memories of her first sex partner, who had also been named George. The sex had been great, even better than she had expected, but his actions after that left a sour taste in her mouth. Although things eventually worked out well for her, Angel still thought about George Parker with distaste. The first name was a common one, however, and she certainly couldn't hold anything against George Box because of it. The last name of the man who had sent flowers sounded vaguely Germanic, and he seemed to have Teutonic features as well. Bertie interrupted Angel's thoughts.
"I'll go get ya a vase fer these from Michael's dressing room, Love. He's got some he ain't never used." Less than a minute later, Bertie returned with a large, rather dusty pink ceramic vase. After wiping it off and adding water, Angel filled it with the flowers from George Box. They were beautiful, a deep red, interspersed with bright green leaves and having the appearance of being covered with dew.
"The bloke what sent these wants ta know if he can come back and see ya. I tole 'im he'd hafta wait until I talked ta ya."
"By all means, Bertie, send him back here." Angel thought she knew who he was and fervently hoped she was right.
She was. Standing in her doorway, she saw Bertie usher Mr. Box backstage and point him in her direction. As he approached her, Angel was very glad to see that he was tall, well over six feet, and he looked even more handsome in the bright backstage light than he had inside the club. Height was important to her because, even though nearly six feet tall herself, she liked to look up at men when they were hugging or dancing or...other things. Angel was surprised that such a frankly sexual thought was even passing through her mind about the man. Her surprise wasn't great, however. Even though she had never even spoken to him, and had just learned his name, her thoughts had been on him all night, and had gone from attraction to sexual fantasizing.
"Hello, George," she greeted him, offering her hand. "Thanks for the flowers. They're beautiful."
"No more beautiful than you are, Angel." George shook the hand she offered and she invited him into her dressing room, leaving the door open. Although she found him very attractive and had been having extremely pleasant and erotic thoughts of him all night, Angel didn't actually know anything about Mr. Box, and wanted to take no chances on his being some kind of creepy pervert. She sat on the chair by her dressing table and he moved the only other chair closer so he could sit directly in front of her.
If he even noticed, he didn't object to the door being left open. "Angel," he started. "That was the most sensational show I have ever seen, and you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."
Although she likes compliments as much as the next woman, Angel is not taken in by flattery. "There are a lot of really beautiful women around here," she answered, referring to the nightclub district. "Most of them don't have one of these, either." She patted the fly of her blue jeans, indicating what most people would have called her cock.
"That doesn't mean much. Just means you can stand up when you pee."
Angel didn't bother to tell George that, for the sake of furthering her feminization, she usually sat for that purpose. "Maybe so, but there are still a lot of really beautiful, naturally born women around here."
"There are a few women who might be as hot as you, but none hotter. Even if there were, I'm much more attracted to you, a T-girl, not only because you're beautiful and sexy, but for another very good reason. T-girls are always raised as boys and don't learn to do the rotten and nasty things that most natural born girls and women do."
Angel had never really thought about that before, but she started doing so then. She had always been appalled by some of the things she saw and heard other women doing, such as maliciously gossiping about those who were supposed to be their friends, or crying or pouting to get their way, or other things that she would never stoop to.
George expanded on what he had said. "I have preferred T-girls for several years. A lot of my friends do too. More specifically, though, I prefer you over any other woman in the nightclub district." He was smiling at her as he said that, as if speaking in jest.
"What do you mean, 'you prefer me'? Prefer me for what?"
"Prefer to have you come back to my hotel with me."
George continued smiling after he made that proposal, but Angel knew he was only partly joking. She was glad again she had relieved her horniness right after coming off the stage, or she probably would have taken him up on his offer. She was tempted to do so anyhow, but didn't want to appear cheap or easy.
"No way! I don't know you well enough. I don't know you at all."
"I didn't mean tonight." That was true enough; George hadn't really expected Angel to leave with him that night, although he had been hoping she would. Her sexual arousal had been extremely visible to him, just as it had been to everyone in the club.
"I mean I want to court you and persuade you to come to my hotel with me sometime in the near future. The very near future."
"Okay, but I warn you, you might be wasting your time." Angel was smiling at George, provocatively, the way she had smiled at him several times while she was on the stage, and he was quite sure his courtship would not be a waste of anybody's time.
Angel was positive it wouldn't be. She still had to work at the bank from Monday through Friday, so on Friday evening, assuming George was still in pursuit, she expected to give in. "There will be another show tomorrow night, but not on Monday or Tuesday. We'll be open again on Wednesday."
"Okay, I'll be back tomorrow, and on Wednesday. I hope I can get the same seat. Maybe I can catch your G-String again."
"Oh, were you the one who caught it? I just kicked it out at random."
George, who had seen the way Angel had aimed it, and the soft way she had propelled it directly to him, didn't believe her. "Yes, I have it, and I will always prize it. I think Madame Josephine is approaching. Does that mean I'll have to leave?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it does."
They both stood up, and George stepped toward her, obviously wanting a hug and, possibly, a kiss. Angel had no hesitation stepping into his arms and, when she saw his lips approaching, started to turn her cheek. Abruptly, she decided he was, or would be, one of the "special few" and they kissed full on the lips, for a long time, but with their mouths closed.
After George left, Angel joined Jo and her fellow employees for a discussion of the night's events. Everybody felt good about how well everything had gone. Angel was in ecstasy from the way she had been received by the crowd. Bambi, Heidi and Samantha, who didn't like to be called Sam, were very happy about the tips they had gotten and at seeing how Angel had been received. Jo had seen the club take in more money than any other time, even when the female impersonators were popular, and she was very happy about that. Bertie Capp had been able to get several excellent peeks at Angel's naked body during the show, and that made him extremely happy.
Jo was all smiles as she praised her new star. "Angel, you were just great. A lot better than I ever could have hoped for. I hope you can keep it up. I think you kept all the audience's up, besides your own." She giggled at her own pun. "That was a neat idea too, tossing your G-String to the crowd. I'll bet it becomes one of the most prized souvenirs down here. Keep doing that. Don't worry; I can get all of them I need, and they're cheap."
Angel smiled in agreement. In the future, her G-String would be tossed out at random. The right guy had gotten the first souvenir and, in less than a week, she expected him to have a lot more to remember about her than just the way she looked.
Thank you for reading this story. I hope you had as much fun as Angel and her audience did. I like writing stories on Literotica, but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them, and I appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most authors on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such feedback, whether praise or criticism, helps me to write more and better stories, and I respond to it whenever I can.