Outstripped Read Online Free Page B

left” by
some other hostesses with obviously more heart and patience for our Groom than
“Geordie”.
    The
girls needed to sit down and led Luke by the arms to some front row seats at
one of the smaller but higher stages. It was a bit like sitting at a bar,
complete with tall stools, somewhere to rest your elbows and plenty of leg room underneath.
    A new
girl arrived in front of them.
    The
music stopped, the lights dimmed, she ‘lit up’ with a spotlight and she just
stood there with her long legs apart and her hands on her hips. Clearly
confident in herself and her surrounds she stared over Luke’s head to the back
of the club and nodded.
    In those
few seconds Luke had already “taken her in”. Slim, slender, smooth, curvy in
all the best places, raven hair (“up” for the moment), bright red lipstick,
glasses, striking, oozing with importance and clothed! A high-collared, waist
length, fitted blouse in white, open low to a deep taunting cleavage, and a
short, but not too short, tartan skirt. This was the real deal! Like your new
Math’s teacher just arrived in her bright red six-inch heels, "And you
will behave!”
    Luke’s
jaw dropped and he began thanking God and everyone else that they’d sat down,
right here, right now, right in front of her .
    The
music began.
    Lady
Marmalade. “Moulin Rouge.” Christine Aguilera.
    It was
loud. It was booming. It was an awesome choice!
    She
didn’t move initially, but then the light show began and her dancing started.
Or rather her grinding, gyrating, in time, precision-dominance of the stage and
her audience. She kept glancing at Luke and occasionally at the girls.
    Leaning
on the pole she turned to face him. She began caressing the pole high above her
head, stared at him, slowly licked her lips and then writhed up and down, horny
as hell, knees together, twisting from side to side.
    Everyone
tried to look up her skirt, but couldn’t. Not yet!
    She took
off the glasses, reached up behind her head, pulled out the hair
pin and shook her long black hair down. She bent forward, stroking the
insides of her blouse and cleavage, lowered her hair fully forward, then, on
the next big music note, flicked it all up and backwards like the water-soaked Jennifer
Beals in “Flash dance”.
    Classic
and clichéd, this stuff never fails.
    She
turned, opened her legs a little then with palms to her thighs, slowly started
to raise her skirt. Up it came to the pear of her bottom, then down again. Then
up again. This time, she arched her back a little, and ever so slightly bent forward.
Luke and the girls were given a “tease” of her white, lace thong, filled with
pouting vulva and it was ohhhh, sooooo, near.
    The
“palm assisted” skirt went down again. She looked over her shoulder at the
audience and unzipped herself at the side. In perfect time to the music she
snapped her legs together and tantalizingly bent forward easing her skirt down
with painted thumb and forefinger on either side. The most perfect of bottoms
presented itself, inch, by agonizing, inch. She
paused, to give everyone the chance to admire, gaze, dream, and dribble a
little, then stepped out of the skirt and kicked it aside.
    Luke
looked in turn at the girls in his company. He had no idea if they enjoyed
intimate tendencies with other women but he could see they were enjoying this and they were obviously impressed
with the performance. Pouting, moistened lips are a bit of a giveaway!
    Famke
enquired of his enjoyment so far.
    He took
her hand and placed it on the canoe in
his pocket .
    She
raised her eyes at him, stroked him up and down a couple of times and then
withdrew herself miming the word “later”.
    Eyes
back on the dancer, the blouse was off, the bra was full, and “the twins” were
about to be revealed.
    Out they
came, and in went a long deep breath to a hundred pairs of lungs. The oxygen
level in the place just halved. Ample, beautiful and perky. Her hands were on her hips again, her thumbs were in