The failure Julie draws back the sheet and seductively lowers herself toward the old man lying on the bed beneath her. She languorously slides her head down his scrawny torso toward his still flaccid equipment, licking and nibbling all the way. On reaching his cock, Julie lightly caresses his balls, then takes the loose skin into her mouth and gently teases with her teeth. She takes hold of his penis. Still soft! Thoughts come of how she came to be in such a position with a complete stranger. It was Fred's idea! And now he is hiding in the closet with a camera. If she could just pull this one off - literally - it would be the first time she had ever finished a job properly. Taking his limp cock into her mouth she casts her mind back over the disastrous career that was to culminate in this. Education for Julie ended when the headmaster expelled her for the pettiest of reasons. It was only an accident any way. And after all, the fire brigade saved most of the school. All except the chemistry lab where the fire started. So Julie started applying for jobs. Hundreds of them. But each time employers asked for a reference from her old school, they wrote to her with the same reply, "Don't call us, we'll call you." Goodness knows why. Perhaps the school gave her a bad reference? Now Julie had an older step - brother called Fred. She hated him. A not too successful small time gangster, he called himself Guide, assuming a very un-convincing Italian accent. "It make-a-dem-a think I am-a di Mafioso." He had been offering her a life of luxury, funded by crime - or failing that at least a dodgy job reference. After two years and two hundred job applications, Julie had finally decided to break her moral principles and take the dodgy reference. So she ended up as a bus conductress, having given the London Omnibus Company a reference more glowing than the Osmond's teeth. But it all went wrong as early as her first day, when she decided to buy a newspaper without telling the driver first. She jumped off the platform of the Routemaster bus and ran into the newsagent next to the stop. "Daily Gossip, please." "Thirty pence please luv." "I've just started my first job. Look at my uniform! I bet you can't guess what it is," boasted Julie. "Brain surgeon, perhaps," replied the assistant with as much interest as a eunuch divulging the happenings of the latest orgy. "Don't be silly," replied Julie. "I work on the buses. Look, there's my bus outside." "What bus?" Turning to look at the stop outside, Julie saw there was indeed no bus. She ran out to the street just in time to see her bus, and her first job, disappearing into the distance. Several more jobs came and went the same way. The longest she lasted anywhere was three weeks, at the bakery. Until the bakery went the same way as the school chemistry lab! By now the glowing job recommendations were looking decidedly suspect, as Julie's reputation began to precede her. Her cover was almost as transparent as one of Fred's bargain bikinis after a swim. So it was in absolute desperation that Julie eventually asked Fred for a job, knowing that the only rackets he ran were strictly illegal. "What sort of job are you after," he asked, dropping his fake accent whilst talking to his stepsister. He believed in saving the pretence for intimidating his protection racket victims. "One which is legal. And I definitely won't become one of your call girls!" "Umm " thought Fred, his forehead suddenly bathed in sweat at the enormity of such a difficult question, plus the unaccustomed strain of thinking at all. "How about a getaway drive no you can't drive, and I suppose that's illegal anyway." A pause, then, "I've got it!" shouted Fred. "What, what?" "You could no, that's illegal too." "There must be something legal I could do for you," whimpered Julie, tears of desperation escaping her eyes. Fred pondered. He pondered some more. "There's only one job I can offer you that's legal. But you won't like it." "Tell me- I'm desperate enough to try almost anything." "Okay, how about being a stripper?" "You mean take my clothes off- in front of strange men? "Its either that or keep working for the government as an artist!" (Explanation for non-Brits, drawing the dole or unemployment benefit). So she thought it over for a while before deciding the thrill of opening her legs in front of all those men would be worth the embarrassment of dancing in front of them. "I'll do it. But only if I can go someplace else- I don't want anyone I know to see me." "Good," said Fred, "I've
got a booking for a stripper at the 'King's Arms' in Crudborough on
Saturday, at 8 o'clock. My normal girls suffering from an acute case
of pregnancy. It's a private party in the function room upstairs, so
just take a CD to dance to and hand it to the de-jay. Tell him your
name and he'll know who you are. Its all arranged and I'll grab the
dosh off the gaffer (translation- get the pay from the manager) the
next day. But for God's sake, don't cock it up." Removing her coat as she went, Julie's legs felt like jelly as she imagined every eye following her. In fact they were, since she was attired in a long green silk dress split nearly to the waist, stocking tops very noticeably showing like a Skoda Felicia on the starting grid at Brands Hatch, or a Ferrari parked in Tesco's car park. "Hi, I'm Julie." "That's nice," replied the disk jockey (strange answer thought Julie). "Can I dance here, on this stage?" "Sure," he replied, apparently a man of few words, with a shrug of his shoulders. She felt even more nervous standing next to the stage whilst the current record played out. Julie couldn't help noticing how many couples were there. She'd always thought these sorts of parties were usually an all mail affair. As the Disk Jockey faded it out and faded in Julie's track, he announced, "This one's for Julie." Strange way to announce a stripper, thought Julie. Julie mounted the steps back to the stage then took long sensuous strides to the centre, marking the beat. As she started to dance, slowly her nerves ebbed away; the worst bit had been getting there in the first place. As Julie pranced and boogied about the floor, teasing the hem up the length of her long legs, gradually revealing her brief panties for longer and longer, she was viewed with differing emotions. Many approved whole-heartedly. These were of course mainly men. Quite a few cocks were straightening out into bulging erections. Some were shocked and disapproving. These were mostly women. Of those who were turned on eleven were women. Three were outright lesbians and eight were bi-curious, of which six were to use Julie's dance as an excuse to their husbands to admit they wanted to sleep with another woman. Lucky bastard husbands. Of those men who approved, many felt how much they'd like to fuck Julie. Most of these were of course married. The wives of four of them were amongst the bi-curious ones. As Julie slowly and seductively released the poppers at the top of her dress, then dropped it to the floor, her nerves fell away with it, like a caterpillar shedding its skin to reveal the butterfly within. As she unbuttoned her dress she still felt a little nervous. As the top of her dress passed her frilly front-loading black bra, she felt a little better. As it passed by her scanty black semi transparent panties (which were actually one of Fred's bikini bottoms he sold in the market, after being washed once), she felt completely at ease. And as it slid quickly down her sheer black seemed stockings, her exhibitionism finally overcame her nervousness at dancing for a room full of strangers. The disco beat throbbed as Julie twirled and cavorted, now reaching down and deftly parting one suspender strap from its stocking. Another suspender strap went the same way and several more male members started to sit up, ever hopeful of joining the action, ever optimistic as only a penis can be. Straps three and four were followed with the removal and casting aside of the complete belt. Leaning back on a conveniently placed chair, Julie slid a stocking down one of her shapely limbs to be pulled from her pointing toes revealing the tanned, smooth leg. After a perfectly timed interval, the other stocking followed, to be flung haphazardly into the audience. Julie stretched herself languorously from the chair before resuming the former hectic pace of her twisting dance, captivating the audience like the spell of the snake charmer. As she slid her fingers into the cup of her bra, she explored within, groping herself, the audience belonged to her. She undid the catch smoothly, with a single motion, in a way men rarely manage to achieve with this oh so enticing, yet awkward contraption. The bra fell to the floor to join the rest of the unheeded, discarded clothing scattered asunder. In a twinkling her hands covered the points of her breasts, delaying the moment of final revelation. Then she moved hands so slowly away till eventually her nipples stood pink and exposed. And now her hands went under the lace of her panties to enter the Promised Land, ready for the culmination of the tease. Keeping her pubic hair covered but for fleeting glimpses, she left one hand at a time in place whilst using the other to slowly tease down her damp-crotched panties. She turned away from the audience to expose her very spankable bottom, before finally dropping her panties to the floor. |
© Peter Smith 2002