Julie's excited, but nervous too. The cleavage of her curve clinging little black dress is cut in a deep V between her breasts and she's not wearing a bra. Her dress is daringly short up her bare thighs. As Julie totters along on her high heels she feels as if her every step will bounce her breasts out and give any man who's interested a glimpse of her knickers. And here in this red light district part of the city there are lots of interested men around.
Julie would never be by herself in a place like this. She's glad her friends Karen, Angie and Barbara are with her here for Karen's hen night. Their clothes are every bit as revealing as Julie's, and Angie's white blouse is so sheer and tight over her breasts its hardly worth the bother of wearing. They turn a corner of the dingy, poorly lit street.
"Here we are!" Karen laughs.
Steps lead down from the street to a doorway. Above it flickers a neon sign: "Striptease! Live Acts" it reads in garish letters. But tonight the sign that reads "Girls!" is dark, and in its place bright pink neon letters flicker "Ladies Night!"
Giggling, the girls stumble on their high heels down the steps. They almost collide with the bouncer in his dark suit and bow tie. He scans them through his reflective sunglasses and motions them inside. They're the perfect clientele for Ladies Night. They're all older than eighteen than they would ever admit to being. They're four pretty but cosmetic plastered women wearing the skimpiest, most revealing clothes they can squeeze their bodies into, and all looking as if they're here to have a hell of a good time.
Hurrying along the short corridor to the desk at the end they gasp at the pictures lining the walls. Last night they were of women, nude or in underwear, in penis straining erotic poses. Tonight they're of posing men, naked with penises hanging heavily or hard up erect, or just in tiny bulging briefs. But whether women or men, they're there for the same purpose - to give a taste of what's to come. The man at the desk is naked but for a bow tie and bulging speedo swim trunks. Karen pays, and they're in.
The walls are black draped, the lights are dim, and the place is already packed. Around Julie and her friends jostle women, young, middle aged and older, most in clothes as minimal as Julie's and her friends. Pounding music thumps, sweat and perfume fill the air and behind the bar all but naked men serve expensive drinks. The girls find a table, and their first bottle of Prosecco flows. Suddenly the lights go dimmer still, the curtains draw back across the stage, the spotlights blaze, the beat of the music changes - and the show begins.
On the stage there's a motorcycle, with a big red tank and lots of gleaming chrome. From the wings a man struts confidently onto the stage. A shrill, raucous shriek swells up from his audience of women. He's in blue jeans, a white tee shirt and a black leather motorcycle jacket and boots, with his head encased in a black, full visored helmet. He takes off his helmet and tosses it into the wings. He's twenties, red brown haired with a manly beard. He stands spread legged with arms akimbo to scan and leer at his wild audience.
Then to the beat of the music he strips. Leather jacket first, then howls rise from the crowd as his shirt flies off to reveal his bronzed six-pack chest. Boots, then jeans, till finally he's in black fishnet briefs, barely big enough to cover his cock and balls, with his erection forcing the fishnet cloth out in a big black cone. He bends over the tank to show the thin black thong strap in his bum crack. Shrieks and howls rise as he wiggles his bum, then to howls of glee his briefs slip down and off. He's naked!
His huge erect penis, hairless except for a ring of brown pubes round its base, swings stiffly as he struts round his stage, steps a foot up onto his bike and stands astride it thrusting his muscular hips. A woman throws her white panties onto the stage. She's followed by another then another, and knickers, panties and thongs fly onto the stage.
The Prosecco's had its effect. Julie slips her black satin thong down her bare legs and off, rolls it into a ball and stands.
"Julie!" Angie cries, but Julie's wild and there's no stopping her. She hurls her thong onto the stage to land at the stripper's feet.
A raucous chant of shrill women's voices swells up from the crowd, to which Julie and her friends add their shrieking voices:
"Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate!"
He looks at his audience, grins, fingers and strokes his hard up cock as if he's deciding whether to treat them to what they're screaming for.
"Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate!"
He picks up a woman's tiny white panties from the stage. He stands astride his bike, his penis bending up over the tank. He wipes the panties over his penis and balls, runs them between his legs, then hangs them on his hard up shaft.
"Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate!"
He thrusts his hips forward, his hand goes down and his whole fist wraps round his shaft. He tugs and strokes, rhythmically, methodically, full length with his hand riding over his knob. The white panties hung on his penis swing with the rhythm of his pumping hand. His hand goes frantic. He rams his hips forward, his head flops back with face twisted in ecstasy, and even over the pounding music and women's howls Julie can hear his grunt as the spotlights catch his jet of semen spurting over the tank and handlebars.
He stands astride his bike with his penis limp, dripping semen onto the tank. He wipes semen off his penis and his bike with the woman's white panties, then hurls them back into the audience. Then he steps off his bike, bows, turns his back on his audience and to applause, shrieks and howls, and with his penis swinging with his steps he strides naked off the stage.
The spotlights fade and the curtains close.
Prosecco flows, the girls giggle and chatter as they wait for the next show. Karen picks up the programme they were handed at the desk. Its glossy cover shows a man, bronzed and muscular, naked but for bulging light blue speedo trunks. Karen flicks the pages.
"Oh my god!" Barbara gasps.
The picture shows the man they've just watched strip. He's standing by his motorcycle, naked but for his black leather jacket. His penis is hanging heavily from his hair ringed balls, and he's carrying a leather whip.
"Karl. 27. 20cm x 5cm" reads the English text of the caption under his picture, followed by "Karl likes to play hard with tough men and girls who like it rough. Come and ride hard with me." There's a mobile phone number too. Karen flicks the pages through pictures of more young men, naked, in bulging swim trunks or underwear, thrusting huge erections, masturbating, and more phone numbers.
"Hi ladies. Are you enjoying the show?"
A man's voice interrupts their browsing. He's late twenties, tall, muscular, dark haired with designer stubble and a hammer wielding Norse god tattooed onto each bulging biceps. He's in a white tank top, tight black Lycra shorts and trainers. The girls look up and stare at him.
"May I join you, ladies?"
He sits at their table without waiting for their answer.
"Are you a stripper too?" asks Barbara, with a Prosecco fuelled giggle. "Do you show off your cock and wank on stage like that guy on the motorbike?"
"Yes Madame. My name is Jacques. Did you not see my act? But I prefer to masturbate on my bed over the body of a woman as lovely as you."
Jacques grins, puts his hand on Barbara's bare knee and slides his hand up her leg to lift what little there is of her denim miniskirt even higher up her thigh. Julie realises her dress is pulled high up her thighs, and from where Jacques is sitting he's looking right up her dress between her slightly spread thighs, and she's got no panties on. Julie's heart pounds. Trying to make it look accidental, she spreads her legs a little wider. Jacques notices!
"Now, would any of you lovely ladies like a private dance?"
"A private dance?" Angie echoes.
"Yes Madame, just you and me in one of the little booths, I will strip specially for you and do all the things a woman could ask for. I will do all the things you lovely ladies would never dare ask your husbands to do."
Angie laughs.
"We're all divorced, except Karen who's getting married."
They have a fit of Prosecco fuelled giggles, all except for Julie, who's daring herself to speak.
"OK!" Julie says, standing. "I'll have a private dance with you."
"Go for it Julie!" laughs Karen, and the others encourage her too.
The lights dim, the curtain slides open, spotlights blaze over the stage for the next act to begin. But Julie and Jacques go hand in hand through the doorway in the black draped walls, down the corridor lined with pictures of naked women which no one's remembered to change from the night before, and into the booth.
The booth's four walls are deep red velvet lined, with full length mirrors on every side and on the ceiling. In the middle of the floor, looking like a mushroom on a stalk, is fixed a stool. Jacques doesn't have to tell Julie its for her. She sits. The booth's just big enough for her to touch the mirrored sides, if that's all she wants to touch.
"Are you comfortable Madame?" Jacques asks. "Sit back and enjoy the show."
"We're not allowed to touch, are we? I saw a sign."
Jacques grins.
"Madame, in here that's just between you and me."
As if to make his point his hand slides from Julie's knee high up her bare thigh till his fingertips are just an inch from the neat little bush above her slit. Julie's eyes meet his and she smiles. They understand each other. Julie spreads her legs wide, and leans back on her hands so her breasts thrust up and out, and all but burst out of her deep cut cleavage.
Jacques touches a button on the wall. Music starts, a rhythmic, sensual beat. To its beat he gyrates around Julie. His hands caress her bare shoulders, arms and back, and his fingers run through her dark hair. Julie likes that! Now his hands are more adventurous, running over the curves of her breasts through the thin cloth of her dress. He undoes the clasp that holds its cleavage closed. With a thrust of Julie's back her dress opens to let her nipples peep out. His hands on her legs brush across her vagina lips and briefly ruffle her pubic hair. Julie strains her legs even wider, and whimpers with excitement!
He throws his top off and stands between Julie's spread legs. She kisses and caresses his smooth bronzed chest, licks and kisses his nipples. As his hips sensuously sway and thrust, her hands explore too, running over the thin taut Lycra between his legs to feel the bulge beneath. Julie reaches behind her neck, undoes the halter clasp of her dress and pulls her dress down. Newly released, her breasts feel so big and heavy, and so hungry for Jacques' arousing touch as they bounce and swing.
"Madame!" Jacques gasps.
"Touch me!" Julie says softly.
A moment later his hands, then his lips and tongue, are on her breasts. His fingers and tongue catch her taut peaking nipples in ways she hasn't known since before her divorce. His hand slides smoothly up Julie's bare thigh, cups firmly over the tingling mound between her legs and Julie moans as his fingers find her slit.
In a quick, so sensual movement, Jacques' shorts are off. He's naked but for white designer briefs, the thin taut cloth showing the precise outline of his hard up shaft and its big round head, even the ridge of the base of his penis head. He swings close to Julie. He steps a foot up onto her stool for her hands to explore the softness of his balls and the stiffness and length of his shaft through the thin cloth.
He steps down and turns. With his back toward her he bends and swings his buttocks in front of her, inviting her hands. Julie runs her fingers slowly down the thong strap between his buttocks. She slides her hand under him between his spread legs from behind, she strokes his balls and shaft through his briefs. Then In a single smooth movement she pulls his briefs down and off.
While he's still with his back to her she slips her dress completely off. He turns to see her seated nude but for high heels, her legs wide, her back arched to thrust her breasts up and out. His balls are shaved hairless, and the taut, smooth skin of his hard up, stiffly swaying shaft gleams under the lights. Julie's hands play, feeling his stiffness and length, caressing his penis head, tickling his balls. Then she holds his strong manly thighs as her lips play, kissing and licking his soft, lust swollen penis head, taking it into her mouth and massaging it with her rolling tongue.
Then Julie leans back on her stool and looks up at Jacques. Their eyes meet..
"Wank over my tits." she gasps, breathing quickly with excitement.
"Madame!" Jacques says, already fingering his straining shaft in anticipation of what's to come.
Julie thrusts her big breasts out, lifting them up to him with her hands for his pleasure. His hands briefly caress them, then moment later Jacques' soft penis head is nestling in the warm softness between them. She squeezes her breasts together around the lust swollen head of his cock.
In the mirror behind him Julie sees him clench his buttocks as he thrusts forward and braces his body for pleasure. His spare hand rests on her shoulder. His strong right hand wraps round his shaft with his thumb and forefinger in a ring just below his cock head. Then he masturbates. With long smooth, rhythmic movements he strokes and tugs his foreskin, with his hand sliding over his penis head to pat Julie's breasts with every stroke, and his spare hand running through Julie's hair. His animal like grunts are so masculine! Julie's thrills with excitement: her naked body is giving a man sex pleasure! Suddenly Jacques' hand goes fast. Julie's seen so many men masturbate and she knows what's coming next.
He grips her shoulder, he thrusts his shaft hard between her breasts so its purple head peeps up above Julie's cleavage.
"Ahhh! ... Ahh!" Jacques grunts.
His naked body judders against hers and his semen fountains over Julie's face and breasts. She holds him pressed against her breasts, enjoying the feel of his semen trickling down her cleavage and across her navel to catch in her pubic hair. A strand of semen swings from his penis as he steps back from her.
Then with her body reluctantly squeezed back into her dress Julie returns to her friends.
"Was he good?" Karen asks as Julie sits down at their table.
But the women's shrieks and howls and the pounding music are too loud for Julie to hear, her friends are too Prosecco sodden to care, and they're too interested in the two bare legged Roman soldiers on the stage in tunics as short as the girls' skirts who're slowly taking off each other's uniforms.
Now Julie's back in her dingy hotel room, laying naked on her bed in the half gloom of the street lights filtering through the cheap curtains, her head still spinning from Prosecco. Her legs are as wide as she can get them. Jacques is naked on the bed with her, his head between Julie's wide spread legs. Julie moans with sex pleasure as Jacques' tongue and lips do things to her labia and clitoris she would never have dared to ask her husband to do.
Jacques moves to kneel astride Julie's bare leg. With his movements his soft balls brush against the soft flesh of Julie's thigh. He bends over her to lick her taut peaking nipples with his tongue. His fingers smoothly stroking her juice sodden vagina lips and circling the peak of her clitoris take over from his lips and tongue between her legs. As he excites her, Julie's fingers play between Jacques' strong legs, tickling his soft balls and gently stroking his iron hard penis shaft teasing him to the peak of erection and arousal. As Jacques' tongue pleasures her, Julie's orgasm starts to rise!
"Jacques! Want you!" Julie gasps.
Jacques moves on top of her, between her spread thighs. Her legs fold up so her knees are near her shoulders. She feels his belly against hers, his hands enjoying her naked breasts and legs, then the pressure of his penis head against her entrance. With a sudden thrust and a grunt of satisfaction he's in. His cock feels massive in her tight, lubed sodden vagina. His powerful thrusting starts: deep, rhythmic, methodical, moving his penis like an expert to excite the most sensitive parts of Julie's vagina and clitoris, grunting Julie's name in the darkness, and holding back as Julie's orgasm exquisitely slowly builds.
Julie climaxes! She thrusts her hips up against Jacques. Her legs involuntarily try to wrap themselves over his back to pull him deeper in. She squirms with the surging ecstasy of her climax, beats his bum with her heels, and bites her lip to stifle her orgasm shriek. As her orgasm peaks Jacques comes! He grunts her name "Julie!" He thrusts hard into her, trying to plunge his spurting penis as deep into her as he can. Jacques' body judders on top of hers as she feels his penis pulse, pumping spurt after spurt of warm semen into her.
But it wasn't Jacques between Julie's legs, only her masturbating hand. Even so with Jacques fresh in her mind it was so good, so real! Julie sinks back on her bed, panting, with her hand cupped over her throbbing mound, her fingers between her labia teasing the last orgasm pulse of pleasure from her clit. From the twin bed next to her she hears Angie's soft voice.
"Was that a good one Julie? Were you thinking of Jacques shagging you?"
Julie pretends she hasn't heard. Minutes later Julie drifts off to sleep with her hand still cupped between her legs, enjoying the perfect end to ladies' night, and to dream.
Julie would never be by herself in a place like this. She's glad her friends Karen, Angie and Barbara are with her here for Karen's hen night. Their clothes are every bit as revealing as Julie's, and Angie's white blouse is so sheer and tight over her breasts its hardly worth the bother of wearing. They turn a corner of the dingy, poorly lit street.
"Here we are!" Karen laughs.
Steps lead down from the street to a doorway. Above it flickers a neon sign: "Striptease! Live Acts" it reads in garish letters. But tonight the sign that reads "Girls!" is dark, and in its place bright pink neon letters flicker "Ladies Night!"
Giggling, the girls stumble on their high heels down the steps. They almost collide with the bouncer in his dark suit and bow tie. He scans them through his reflective sunglasses and motions them inside. They're the perfect clientele for Ladies Night. They're all older than eighteen than they would ever admit to being. They're four pretty but cosmetic plastered women wearing the skimpiest, most revealing clothes they can squeeze their bodies into, and all looking as if they're here to have a hell of a good time.
Hurrying along the short corridor to the desk at the end they gasp at the pictures lining the walls. Last night they were of women, nude or in underwear, in penis straining erotic poses. Tonight they're of posing men, naked with penises hanging heavily or hard up erect, or just in tiny bulging briefs. But whether women or men, they're there for the same purpose - to give a taste of what's to come. The man at the desk is naked but for a bow tie and bulging speedo swim trunks. Karen pays, and they're in.
The walls are black draped, the lights are dim, and the place is already packed. Around Julie and her friends jostle women, young, middle aged and older, most in clothes as minimal as Julie's and her friends. Pounding music thumps, sweat and perfume fill the air and behind the bar all but naked men serve expensive drinks. The girls find a table, and their first bottle of Prosecco flows. Suddenly the lights go dimmer still, the curtains draw back across the stage, the spotlights blaze, the beat of the music changes - and the show begins.
On the stage there's a motorcycle, with a big red tank and lots of gleaming chrome. From the wings a man struts confidently onto the stage. A shrill, raucous shriek swells up from his audience of women. He's in blue jeans, a white tee shirt and a black leather motorcycle jacket and boots, with his head encased in a black, full visored helmet. He takes off his helmet and tosses it into the wings. He's twenties, red brown haired with a manly beard. He stands spread legged with arms akimbo to scan and leer at his wild audience.
Then to the beat of the music he strips. Leather jacket first, then howls rise from the crowd as his shirt flies off to reveal his bronzed six-pack chest. Boots, then jeans, till finally he's in black fishnet briefs, barely big enough to cover his cock and balls, with his erection forcing the fishnet cloth out in a big black cone. He bends over the tank to show the thin black thong strap in his bum crack. Shrieks and howls rise as he wiggles his bum, then to howls of glee his briefs slip down and off. He's naked!
His huge erect penis, hairless except for a ring of brown pubes round its base, swings stiffly as he struts round his stage, steps a foot up onto his bike and stands astride it thrusting his muscular hips. A woman throws her white panties onto the stage. She's followed by another then another, and knickers, panties and thongs fly onto the stage.
The Prosecco's had its effect. Julie slips her black satin thong down her bare legs and off, rolls it into a ball and stands.
"Julie!" Angie cries, but Julie's wild and there's no stopping her. She hurls her thong onto the stage to land at the stripper's feet.
A raucous chant of shrill women's voices swells up from the crowd, to which Julie and her friends add their shrieking voices:
"Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate!"
He looks at his audience, grins, fingers and strokes his hard up cock as if he's deciding whether to treat them to what they're screaming for.
"Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate!"
He picks up a woman's tiny white panties from the stage. He stands astride his bike, his penis bending up over the tank. He wipes the panties over his penis and balls, runs them between his legs, then hangs them on his hard up shaft.
"Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate! Mas-tur-bate!"
He thrusts his hips forward, his hand goes down and his whole fist wraps round his shaft. He tugs and strokes, rhythmically, methodically, full length with his hand riding over his knob. The white panties hung on his penis swing with the rhythm of his pumping hand. His hand goes frantic. He rams his hips forward, his head flops back with face twisted in ecstasy, and even over the pounding music and women's howls Julie can hear his grunt as the spotlights catch his jet of semen spurting over the tank and handlebars.
He stands astride his bike with his penis limp, dripping semen onto the tank. He wipes semen off his penis and his bike with the woman's white panties, then hurls them back into the audience. Then he steps off his bike, bows, turns his back on his audience and to applause, shrieks and howls, and with his penis swinging with his steps he strides naked off the stage.
The spotlights fade and the curtains close.
Prosecco flows, the girls giggle and chatter as they wait for the next show. Karen picks up the programme they were handed at the desk. Its glossy cover shows a man, bronzed and muscular, naked but for bulging light blue speedo trunks. Karen flicks the pages.
"Oh my god!" Barbara gasps.
The picture shows the man they've just watched strip. He's standing by his motorcycle, naked but for his black leather jacket. His penis is hanging heavily from his hair ringed balls, and he's carrying a leather whip.
"Karl. 27. 20cm x 5cm" reads the English text of the caption under his picture, followed by "Karl likes to play hard with tough men and girls who like it rough. Come and ride hard with me." There's a mobile phone number too. Karen flicks the pages through pictures of more young men, naked, in bulging swim trunks or underwear, thrusting huge erections, masturbating, and more phone numbers.
"Hi ladies. Are you enjoying the show?"
A man's voice interrupts their browsing. He's late twenties, tall, muscular, dark haired with designer stubble and a hammer wielding Norse god tattooed onto each bulging biceps. He's in a white tank top, tight black Lycra shorts and trainers. The girls look up and stare at him.
"May I join you, ladies?"
He sits at their table without waiting for their answer.
"Are you a stripper too?" asks Barbara, with a Prosecco fuelled giggle. "Do you show off your cock and wank on stage like that guy on the motorbike?"
"Yes Madame. My name is Jacques. Did you not see my act? But I prefer to masturbate on my bed over the body of a woman as lovely as you."
Jacques grins, puts his hand on Barbara's bare knee and slides his hand up her leg to lift what little there is of her denim miniskirt even higher up her thigh. Julie realises her dress is pulled high up her thighs, and from where Jacques is sitting he's looking right up her dress between her slightly spread thighs, and she's got no panties on. Julie's heart pounds. Trying to make it look accidental, she spreads her legs a little wider. Jacques notices!
"Now, would any of you lovely ladies like a private dance?"
"A private dance?" Angie echoes.
"Yes Madame, just you and me in one of the little booths, I will strip specially for you and do all the things a woman could ask for. I will do all the things you lovely ladies would never dare ask your husbands to do."
Angie laughs.
"We're all divorced, except Karen who's getting married."
They have a fit of Prosecco fuelled giggles, all except for Julie, who's daring herself to speak.
"OK!" Julie says, standing. "I'll have a private dance with you."
"Go for it Julie!" laughs Karen, and the others encourage her too.
The lights dim, the curtain slides open, spotlights blaze over the stage for the next act to begin. But Julie and Jacques go hand in hand through the doorway in the black draped walls, down the corridor lined with pictures of naked women which no one's remembered to change from the night before, and into the booth.
The booth's four walls are deep red velvet lined, with full length mirrors on every side and on the ceiling. In the middle of the floor, looking like a mushroom on a stalk, is fixed a stool. Jacques doesn't have to tell Julie its for her. She sits. The booth's just big enough for her to touch the mirrored sides, if that's all she wants to touch.
"Are you comfortable Madame?" Jacques asks. "Sit back and enjoy the show."
"We're not allowed to touch, are we? I saw a sign."
Jacques grins.
"Madame, in here that's just between you and me."
As if to make his point his hand slides from Julie's knee high up her bare thigh till his fingertips are just an inch from the neat little bush above her slit. Julie's eyes meet his and she smiles. They understand each other. Julie spreads her legs wide, and leans back on her hands so her breasts thrust up and out, and all but burst out of her deep cut cleavage.
Jacques touches a button on the wall. Music starts, a rhythmic, sensual beat. To its beat he gyrates around Julie. His hands caress her bare shoulders, arms and back, and his fingers run through her dark hair. Julie likes that! Now his hands are more adventurous, running over the curves of her breasts through the thin cloth of her dress. He undoes the clasp that holds its cleavage closed. With a thrust of Julie's back her dress opens to let her nipples peep out. His hands on her legs brush across her vagina lips and briefly ruffle her pubic hair. Julie strains her legs even wider, and whimpers with excitement!
He throws his top off and stands between Julie's spread legs. She kisses and caresses his smooth bronzed chest, licks and kisses his nipples. As his hips sensuously sway and thrust, her hands explore too, running over the thin taut Lycra between his legs to feel the bulge beneath. Julie reaches behind her neck, undoes the halter clasp of her dress and pulls her dress down. Newly released, her breasts feel so big and heavy, and so hungry for Jacques' arousing touch as they bounce and swing.
"Madame!" Jacques gasps.
"Touch me!" Julie says softly.
A moment later his hands, then his lips and tongue, are on her breasts. His fingers and tongue catch her taut peaking nipples in ways she hasn't known since before her divorce. His hand slides smoothly up Julie's bare thigh, cups firmly over the tingling mound between her legs and Julie moans as his fingers find her slit.
In a quick, so sensual movement, Jacques' shorts are off. He's naked but for white designer briefs, the thin taut cloth showing the precise outline of his hard up shaft and its big round head, even the ridge of the base of his penis head. He swings close to Julie. He steps a foot up onto her stool for her hands to explore the softness of his balls and the stiffness and length of his shaft through the thin cloth.
He steps down and turns. With his back toward her he bends and swings his buttocks in front of her, inviting her hands. Julie runs her fingers slowly down the thong strap between his buttocks. She slides her hand under him between his spread legs from behind, she strokes his balls and shaft through his briefs. Then In a single smooth movement she pulls his briefs down and off.
While he's still with his back to her she slips her dress completely off. He turns to see her seated nude but for high heels, her legs wide, her back arched to thrust her breasts up and out. His balls are shaved hairless, and the taut, smooth skin of his hard up, stiffly swaying shaft gleams under the lights. Julie's hands play, feeling his stiffness and length, caressing his penis head, tickling his balls. Then she holds his strong manly thighs as her lips play, kissing and licking his soft, lust swollen penis head, taking it into her mouth and massaging it with her rolling tongue.
Then Julie leans back on her stool and looks up at Jacques. Their eyes meet..
"Wank over my tits." she gasps, breathing quickly with excitement.
"Madame!" Jacques says, already fingering his straining shaft in anticipation of what's to come.
Julie thrusts her big breasts out, lifting them up to him with her hands for his pleasure. His hands briefly caress them, then moment later Jacques' soft penis head is nestling in the warm softness between them. She squeezes her breasts together around the lust swollen head of his cock.
In the mirror behind him Julie sees him clench his buttocks as he thrusts forward and braces his body for pleasure. His spare hand rests on her shoulder. His strong right hand wraps round his shaft with his thumb and forefinger in a ring just below his cock head. Then he masturbates. With long smooth, rhythmic movements he strokes and tugs his foreskin, with his hand sliding over his penis head to pat Julie's breasts with every stroke, and his spare hand running through Julie's hair. His animal like grunts are so masculine! Julie's thrills with excitement: her naked body is giving a man sex pleasure! Suddenly Jacques' hand goes fast. Julie's seen so many men masturbate and she knows what's coming next.
He grips her shoulder, he thrusts his shaft hard between her breasts so its purple head peeps up above Julie's cleavage.
"Ahhh! ... Ahh!" Jacques grunts.
His naked body judders against hers and his semen fountains over Julie's face and breasts. She holds him pressed against her breasts, enjoying the feel of his semen trickling down her cleavage and across her navel to catch in her pubic hair. A strand of semen swings from his penis as he steps back from her.
Then with her body reluctantly squeezed back into her dress Julie returns to her friends.
"Was he good?" Karen asks as Julie sits down at their table.
But the women's shrieks and howls and the pounding music are too loud for Julie to hear, her friends are too Prosecco sodden to care, and they're too interested in the two bare legged Roman soldiers on the stage in tunics as short as the girls' skirts who're slowly taking off each other's uniforms.
Now Julie's back in her dingy hotel room, laying naked on her bed in the half gloom of the street lights filtering through the cheap curtains, her head still spinning from Prosecco. Her legs are as wide as she can get them. Jacques is naked on the bed with her, his head between Julie's wide spread legs. Julie moans with sex pleasure as Jacques' tongue and lips do things to her labia and clitoris she would never have dared to ask her husband to do.
Jacques moves to kneel astride Julie's bare leg. With his movements his soft balls brush against the soft flesh of Julie's thigh. He bends over her to lick her taut peaking nipples with his tongue. His fingers smoothly stroking her juice sodden vagina lips and circling the peak of her clitoris take over from his lips and tongue between her legs. As he excites her, Julie's fingers play between Jacques' strong legs, tickling his soft balls and gently stroking his iron hard penis shaft teasing him to the peak of erection and arousal. As Jacques' tongue pleasures her, Julie's orgasm starts to rise!
"Jacques! Want you!" Julie gasps.
Jacques moves on top of her, between her spread thighs. Her legs fold up so her knees are near her shoulders. She feels his belly against hers, his hands enjoying her naked breasts and legs, then the pressure of his penis head against her entrance. With a sudden thrust and a grunt of satisfaction he's in. His cock feels massive in her tight, lubed sodden vagina. His powerful thrusting starts: deep, rhythmic, methodical, moving his penis like an expert to excite the most sensitive parts of Julie's vagina and clitoris, grunting Julie's name in the darkness, and holding back as Julie's orgasm exquisitely slowly builds.
Julie climaxes! She thrusts her hips up against Jacques. Her legs involuntarily try to wrap themselves over his back to pull him deeper in. She squirms with the surging ecstasy of her climax, beats his bum with her heels, and bites her lip to stifle her orgasm shriek. As her orgasm peaks Jacques comes! He grunts her name "Julie!" He thrusts hard into her, trying to plunge his spurting penis as deep into her as he can. Jacques' body judders on top of hers as she feels his penis pulse, pumping spurt after spurt of warm semen into her.
But it wasn't Jacques between Julie's legs, only her masturbating hand. Even so with Jacques fresh in her mind it was so good, so real! Julie sinks back on her bed, panting, with her hand cupped over her throbbing mound, her fingers between her labia teasing the last orgasm pulse of pleasure from her clit. From the twin bed next to her she hears Angie's soft voice.
"Was that a good one Julie? Were you thinking of Jacques shagging you?"
Julie pretends she hasn't heard. Minutes later Julie drifts off to sleep with her hand still cupped between her legs, enjoying the perfect end to ladies' night, and to dream.