"I used to strip at parties?" Sandy wanted to find out if they knew where she was coming from. She looked over at Michelle to warn her not to say anything. "Anyway there was this night I had to do the whole act twice? I'll never forget it..."
It was raining fog all over San Francisco and a gusty cold breeze had begun to cut down from Twin Peaks into the Mission as Sandy checked the address and searched out a place to park. The faint splatter against her bare thighs made her shiver as she swiveled her knees out of the car, and she wrapped the raincoat tight around her before she made her way back down the street toward the bar.
"I had a routine where I was supposed to come in all dressed in my little costume and then do the straight strip. I had one of those little boom-box tape players I always carried around--so I could get a good bumping beat?
Sandy was used to the way that people's eyes would always go for her beaver when she came in. With the stretchy short mini-skirt hiked up they could almost see the curly hairs frizzing out the bottom of it. Plus she was so tall that by the time she put on the high high-heels her sweet ass was perched just about perfect looking-level for anyone that was sitting down.
"Sometimes they would nose up real close? And if it was chilly then I would be able to feel how the blast of moist breath would blow up into my cranny and then drift back out the opening at the bottom of my skirt. Anyway this night I was really cold so I kept my long raincoat on when I came in."
She could usually get a good feeling for how a trip was going to play when she first came in. But tonight she was almost anonymous because of the way she was dressed, and maybe that was the first thing that got her off in the wrong direction. The guys all turned and looked her over when the door opened, but they didn't stare and slobber the way they usually did. They couldn't know how trashy she looked underneath the baggy coat. Sandy slid in, smiling naturally, and wove her wide hips through a narrow aisle of chair backs to the bar.
"I think it was supposed to be a bachelor party or a birthday party. Anyway there was only a couple of ladies there? I could tell that the bartender was worried that I had come into the wrong place. 'It's okay,' I whispered to him, 'I'm the entertainment.'
"I ordered a Vodka and Tonic, and while he was making it I set the tape player on the bar and undid the belt of my coat and gave him sort of a pre-view. I could feel his eyes run along the deep neckline of my shirt, sliding over the tops of my pushed together tits and working down into the cleavage between them. 'More to come,' I promised. I turned around. 'Is everybody havin' a good time?' I called out."
Sandy always made sure everyone had a good time. She leaned back with her elbows up on the bar and let the coat fall further open to where they could see what was coming. "I got a MALE-gram for Mike," she announced, "Is Mike Torrance here?" Over in one corner a group of guys had been playing cards. "Yo Mike!" they were grinning, "Hey Mike! She's got a message for you!"
Sandy came away from the bar with a strut, kicking her legs up and shrugging her bare shoulders sensuously as the concealing coat dropped away. She spread her legs wide in the tight skirt, bringing her hands together at her waist so that her stuck-out tits rolled together between her arms. She loved the way they always looked at her when she stood in front of them this way. "Which one of you is Mike? Come on, honey. I've got a special surprise for you."
She had a dozen costumes but the one she liked best was where she dressed up like a street-whore, the little white skirt coming down just over her buns and curling under to where the men wanted to stick their hands and get them wet. Their faces were thick with sudden lust, taking in the sight of her like a heavy, horny drug. "I hope it's you," Sandy told them all, her tongue working to the corner of her mouth as she took hold of her stretchy top and raised it to expose her sexy stomach.
"It doesn't matter how little you show as long as you show it? I was taking them as far by showing off my belly button as if I had tossed all my duds and taken the whole gang on right then. I was just getting them in the mood, raising my shirt to show off two inches of belly and teasing the little hole with my pinky as I looked down."
"Guys want you to take charge? I figured I knew who Mike Torrance was from the start because he was the only one that was worried that he might have to prove something to his friends. This guy was sitting half turned in his chair at the card table, looking uncomfortable. 'You just sit back and relax, baby,' I said, crossing over to him, 'It's your party.' But it wasn't either his party? That was my big mistake!"
Sandy was doing a lot of dancing in those days, and when she wasn't working she used to teach aerobics down at the gym. She'd have to tell us about that sometime. She had to admit she looked pretty good and she knew how to do all the dirty moves. This time she pulled the waistband of her skirt out and held her hand down inside while she stood up close beside him and swayed her hips slow to the bass beat that had started coming off the tape player.
She shook her rust-brown shaggy hair away from her face, began to bang her big breasts back and forth up above the man's level, tipping his forehead slowly back while she kept everyone else's vision rolling deep in her topside cleavage. She was forming a freckled funnel and pouring them over her snowy mounds like a sticky sexy strawberry sauce. "Are you a tit-man, honey?" she asked. "Cause I'm a tit-woman!"
"I've always been a tit-woman? Maybe it means I'm part dyke? Or maybe it's just cause if you got 'em, flaunt 'em? Most strippers work with a bra. It's like something they can get down to? Not me! I keep my hooters loose and work the puppet show inside my shirt and by the time Bert and Ernie have bumped heads a few times I guarantee I've got everyone's attention."
"It gets me off too. You always want to make sure about that or else it's just acting? I've got a method, though. First thing I do is wear something really scratchy. Then when I get them moving I get them moving in all directions until they're itching and hot all over. That way before I start pulling and pinching my nips they're already swole up and sticking out under my shirt."
Everybody in the room was holding their breath as Sandy stretched her neckline down and exposed her crinkled up points. They were thick and chewy buttons that sucked their purple color in from a pair of wide pink areolae the more that Sandy touched and teased them. She was shining them high and then showing them low, rolling them round to the music right in front of the eyes of the man she thought was named Mike Torrance.
It was like Sandy had Mike's unlisted number but she had dialed it wrong and she had called from her own party line where everyone could listen in on what she whispered to him. "It makes me so horny when you look at me that way, Mike. You must really want to suck my boobs!" His face was blushing hot purple as Sandy held her big naked tits close up and began to slap them soft and slow against his cheeks. "Oh. HA HA that TICKLES!" She was pressing her nipple insistantly along the line of his mouth and his little moustache was driving her crazy as she drove him crazy.
"I have to make them fuck me in their minds before I can move on to the real thing? Most of the poker players had kicked in their hands, but this guy I was calling Mike and a few others were still holding their cards close. 'You're ticklin me, baby,' I said softly. 'You're making me forget my act, you suckin stud.' I wanted to feel his lips open and then the wetness of his mouth as it fastened tight on my tittie?"
By this time Sandy was supposed to be serving appetizers all around, matching eyes with everyone in the room as she slowly swapped her sexy suckems into Mike Torrance's face until they were rough red and slick with slobber. But it wasn't working out. They liked her okay, but she had this feeling something wasn't right. It was like they were just waiting uncomfortably for her to finish up so they could get back to their gambling or something. Finally she made a decision and backed bumping away from her reluctant birthday boy until she could feel the edge of the card table beneath her buns and she raised up on her toes until she had her ass all the way on the line. "Alright, you all. I know when I'm licked--all over? Count me in."
"Toss them in, Mike. You had your free shot. Now you gotta pay to play. Five dollar ante. You all play with money and I'll put in my legal tenders?" Sandy turned and took a seat at the table. "Somebody turn off that noise," she said, "Let's play cards!"
"I guess it's that I just can't stand being ignored? After I lost the first two pots right off I spent the time fooling with my naked knockers and fan dancing behind the skimpy cards they kept dealing to me. 'Boobs or better to open?' I asked poker faced. They could see I was holding, but they didn't know about the other stuff I was sitting on."
It was three guys besides the one she thought was Mike Torrance and one other lady and Sandy's job was to make sure they never took their eyes off her body, even while they supposedly were playing their hands, and she was working hard. Before she had had to shuck off anything more than her high-heeled shoes she had won three big pots, taking her time as she leaned over the table to rake in the heaps of rumpled green bills. She loved the rustle of clean cash against her dirty hung-down juggs. "Come on you all!" she was gloating, "Someone's gotta get these clothes off of me. I'm hot, I'm way too hot. Somebody's gotta help the girl chill out."
"'It's panty-ante this time? Winner gets to pull 'em down?'" I knew as soon as I said that that I was going to lose my drawers in the next play. It was my deal and I called my favorite. 'Five-card stud,' I said, snapping the cards down and calling them out as I went around the circle. 'Eight of diamonds. Four.' The dude she'd been calling Mike Torrance rated a measly deuce. 'Too bad I didn't call for low-balls, Mike,' I teased him. I smiled into the deep brown eyes of the woman at the table as I dealt her a card and she looked right back at me without expression. 'Uh Oh. A Queen! Could be the Queen of Cunts.' So far she had been totally cool, going along I figured with whatever guys did at this kind of party, but I couldn't tell for sure how she would act if she had to get more active. 'No-balls is looking good,' I said. 'And a Jack. And dealer gets another eight.'
Sandy actually had another eight in the hole, but there was already one out on the table besides her own. She watched as the player on her left led off with a two-dollar bet and the guy with a beard beside him matched it. "Only two dollars? For my panties? Ain't I worth more than that? I'm going to have to raise!" Sandy stood up out of her chair again and began to draw up her mini-skirt.
"The trouble was, I couldn't get my ass up high enough now that my shoes were off my feet? And I wanted to be sure that the rest of the room got a good look at what I was betting. I climbed up into the seat of the chair and spread my locked knees apart as I made my skirt get short and my legs get long."
"I have this fantasy where the guy is undressing me in the same way? Only he's no-hands--doing it all with his hot horn and I can feel this long thick thing throbbing and pressing impatiently as he lifts and prods the covering clothing up to my waist."
Sandy always wore light pink panties because of how well they showed off the auburn color of her cunt hair. And she always wore them on the small side so that plenty of it stuck out. She dipped a pointing finger into the deepest part of her crack and then traced it up around the outline of her groovy bumpkin. A tiny drop of wetness was already spotting the tight nylon surface that stretched over her squishy slit. "What's it worth to you, Mike? You want someone else pulling these down? Seems like it always comes back to you, you stud!"
"Go ten," the man said. He might not really be named Mike Torrance, but Sandy had definitely gotten his attention. He pushed two five-spots to the center of the table, his vision fixed on Sandy's high-hipped bikini briefs and the sweet pouching package that was twisted tight inside them. "Bet's ten," she announced.
"How about you, Honey?" Sandy asked the woman card player. "A girl can't never have enough underclothes, can she?" The woman dithered, peeking under her down card before moving her money into the pot. "Go fifteen," she said. And then she looked right up into Sandy's eyes where she stood on the chair and smiled nastily.
"I always like a nice friendly game? 'Whoops. Guess I better get back down!' I said. 'Better not get them all too stirred up. This girl's after my puss, guys!' Already I could feel her unblinking intentions like a hot hand slipping between my thighs."
"'I think I know what she's got down there? Anybody beat a pair of queens? Help me, help me,save me,' I was begging the other players out loud to rescue me from a life of lesbianism as I dealt the rest of the cards. inside I was hoping that their hands would be as soft as their dicks were hard. The more I thought about it the more I was ready for the female touch."
Sandy knew exactly how to play it when the last cards were called and the pretty, brown haired lady sat back with a blushing victorious smirk. "Can I borrow back my heels?" she asked the guys she had lost them to. She fitted the long spiked show shoes onto her feet and then stepped from the seat of her chair to the round tabletop. "Music, Maestro!"
"I like the Rolling Stones to dance to the best? Because everybody thinks about fuckin' when they hear that raunchy guitar the Stones lay down. And when they see what I do to it I make sure they think about fuckin' me."
Sandy was marching in place on the tabletop like she was leading the sex parade on circus day, slow stepping and pointing her toes as she ran each knee down the inside of the other thigh, like she was shaking and stroking and twirling a big fat baton. Then the Stones began to grind deep into a repeating riff and she stuck her fleshy bun-cakes straight out to meet the music's exploring hand.
"Sometimes I can tell they wish they were spanking um? And I know from the way my asscheeks are moving and jiggling when I dance that they can see I'd do anything for Keith and Mick as long as they keep playing that song."
Sandy knew she was going to have to give up her undies but she made believe she was a shy slut, backing down to the music until she was right above a certain someone with her short skirt sliding high and then reaching through and tugging the hem forward between her legs to keep the woman's dirty eyes out.
"When I reach down all the way like that it squishes my tits in my arms to where I can't see around them? I kept on trying to look around at my behind, knowing everytime I did it was making some new guy cross-eyed when my cherry-red pointed nips turned on him. Only now I figured it was time to finally deliver?"
Sandy got down off her high horse and got down to bizness. Her big hooters flopped forward and began to swing and smack to the rock-n-roll beat as she hiked her concealing skirt all the way to her hips and completely revealed her skimpy pink lingerie.
"I swear to God it was like electricity? Instead of dragging the stretchy waistband down the backside of my ass like I expected, a long-nailed finger goosed into my hairy diamond and tickled the bottom of my cuntly crack. I could feel her rolling my sticky flesh and the slippery fabric together as she pinched the moist strip of nylon away and began to gather it slowly around her probing hand. She was pulling the panties she had won off me from the crotch down! And I was wiggling like crazy at the crazy feelings it was giving me!"
Sandy was afraid that it would have to stop after the woman had gotten the panties stretched in a tight straight line between her spread-out thighs, but it wasn't happening that way. Instead she felt a smooth arm wrap around her waist for support as her feet and knees were coaxed together and the bare pink nylon briefs dropped to her ankles. Now Sandy was afraid that it wouldn't stop, that she would come right there in front of everyone before she had even done the dirty stuff.
"That's what they pay me for? It ain't because I always know who I'm playing to--it's because I have such a dirty mind!! I stepped one foot out and then kicked the panties I had lost back to the butch behind me. I knew everyone's eyes were on my bushy pussy now. But they weren't seeing half of it?"
Sandy spread her twat open with her hands until the cords that held her legs on were stretched tight and her ruffled meaty cuntlips were tasting and kissing the air. The men could always tell just by looking at it how good it would feel to put their fucking fuckers in a real fucking hole. And just in case they couldn't, Sandy was showing them the way the deluxe model worked.
"I like to make dicks hard? I think I like it almost as much as pumping them until they spurt their juice and then squeezing them up hard again. I can't never get enough? Anyway, I haven't yet. I was rocking my hips slow and frigging and stretching my sexy slit every way until I had a full row of boners just achin' to get at me by the time I had walked down to my knees on the top of the poker table."
"I was so hungry I had to have a taste? 'Come on, Mike. Show me your big hard dick. Cause I got a present for you, honey.' I couldn't blame him for not telling me his name wasn't Mike when I was crouched down on the table right in front of him and I was already dropping his belt and unpopping the buttons of his jeans. Cause I give a REAL GOOD present?"
Sandy didn't believe in sucking cock slow. That was what they made girlfriends for? Her white fingers laced tight around the thick purple shaft, her thumb romping and rubbing the soft tube that ran up its curvy underside. In ten seconds she had his pants pushed back and his heavy hanging balls ping-ponging against the top of the table. She waited just long enough to be sure everyone could get a good look at the rock-hard, nazi-helmeted rod before she dipped her head and plugged the fat hot schlong into the opening between her spread-wide lips.
"I love the way they taste? That's half of the reason I slobber so much when I give head. They taste like the whole raunchy hog, like a spicy sausage rolled in piss and dirt. I love it!! And I know that they love that I love it."
The only thing about wearing her hair long that Sandy didn't like was how it could fall down and get in the way when she tucked in her chin and really got to work. Gooey red-brown strands of it were strung across her cheeks and plastered down around her sticky sucking mouth and she tried to shake it back so they all could see. "MMMRRUMPH, RUMPHH, RAHHMPH!" She was making the loudest, nastiest, slurpingest sounds she could as she fucked the gorgeous stiff penis deep into her face. "WAHHH. AHHHH. WUFFF! WUFFF!"
The guy who wasn't named Mike was reared back and pushed forward as far as he could get, and the whole room was gathered in around them as Sandy did her stuff, rolling around nearly naked on the poker table while she pounded and packed the coming cum up inside his proud pipe. Sandy could feel his legs shaking and knew that everybody else would be watching the changes cross his face as she yanked his balls tight and slammed the thick dick deep into her throat one last time.
"OH SHIT. GODDAMM. GODDAMMIT!" Finally after all this time she was getting more than two words out of this guy. A big hot load of country cream choked into Sandy's mouth, spurting and gushing against her bulging cheeks until her face felt like it was filled to the eyes with thick cum. She couldn't swallow fast enough or squeeze her lips tight enough around his rutting rod to keep the stuff from squirting out.
"After all that time I had spent in teasing him up he was so rock hard horny he couldn't stop cumming. Gobs of glistening white jizz were still pulsing out of his veiny dick when he finally pulled back and popped it free of my blubbering lips. But I wasn't letting him away. I kept on licking and squeezing and sweettalking to it. 'That's a good boy, Mikey,' I was cooing to the birthday boy as I coaxed every oozing ounce of pleasure out of him. 'Mike likes a good cocksucking, doesn't he?' I asked, looking up slyly at the audience that was watching my work. But they were all laughing?"
"I'll never forget it? 'That ain't Mike Torrance!' someone said. 'Mike Torrance's standing right behind you.' 'Yeah!' another voice chipped in. 'Show her your cock, Mike!' I rolled around. There was only one person behind me--the brown-haired girl I had given up my panties to. She was lifting the hem of her loose skirt high up to expose a spread-out pussy, her hand searching wildly down through the dark damp bush between her legs.
"It's gone!" she hammed up, hooking her middle finger deep inside a puffed up scarlet snatch and pulling it from side to side to be sure I got a good eyeful. "...And my balls, too!"
"Now how was I supposed to know? Mike's a guy's name, right? Anyhow, that was how I met Michelle for the first time."
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