Entertaining at Large

Susan first appeared in Entertaining at Home. I wrote this one with a sound track playing while I worked. I wonder whether it enhances the reading? The tracks mentioned are accessible on music-sharing sites, lots of which don't flog your private data to corporations. Thanks again for support, comments and suggestions which are always welcome.

*****

'You're a star.'

Mr J nudged me as we got out of the taxi and pointed up at the sign draped across the front of the Crown. It was at least thirty feet in length, one of those PVC printed jobs stretched between ropes. At the top, in bold red letters about three feet high it read: "New Year's Eve"; the second line was a similar size, but a more attractive blue Calibri-style print. It said simply: "Scarlett, Suzette, Tracy". Underneath, in black, in a more playful font was the injunction: "cum one, cum all".

'George never could spell.'

I laughed and took the old man's arm, snuggling against him in the icy wind. We were stopped at the door by a large man dressed all in black. He had no perceivable neck and was about six foot three of solid muscle. I could only imagine he was sold his clothes by the same dealer who supplied the steroids which had made him the shape he was. I doubted there was a normal shop he could get anything to fit.

'Tickets?'

It was a gutteral-bark. It could have been an query, or an order. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and chose to assume it was the former.

'Sorry?'

'No ticket, no entry.'

I was flabbergasted and took a theatrical step backwards to check we had come to the right place. We had. I approached him again.

'I'm Suzette.'

'Who?'

He produced a small notebook from a pocket and eyed it suspiciously. I pointed up at the sign.

'Suzette. One of the strippers?'

He looked at his list again and shook his head. He was beginning to irritate me. I stepped up so that we were nose-to-nose, well nose-to-chest anyway.

'Listen. I don't know who you are, or what the hell you think you're doing, but which do you think is more likely? That I am who I say I am, or, that I'm an imposter so determined to wave her knickers at the bunch of ingrates who drink in this dive that I would make it up? I suggest you let us in and, if you still have any doubts, check with George.'

He grunted, not in a good way, shuffled back and pushed open the door with one finger. That, I admitted to myself, was sort-of impressive. I made to enter when he spoke again.

'He got a ticket?'

He was glaring at Mr J who shrank down into his overcoat and moved crab-wise so that I was between him and his interrogator.

'That's Mr J. He's my manager, you can call him "sir". Lay one finger on him and he'll break both your arms. He's a karate black belt.'

I pushed Mr J in front of me and we went into the pub, before the gorilla had a chance to interpret my words into whatever language he spoke and challenge their validity. Inside the place was buzzing. I stopped for a minute to take in the scene.

'OK killer?'

'I'm alright. What about you? I would have hated to hurt that young man, but he was beginning to make me angry.'

I laughed and kissed him on the cheek in lieu of a reply. He had obviously not lost his sense of humour. We looked around together. The place was full, but not packed. There must have been about one hundred and fifty punters in the place. Most were men, but there were a lot more women than I ever remembered seeing there.

There was the same buzz of excitement we had felt as we went through town. We had had to take the scenic route as the wait time for a hire car was about two hours and rising. The bus into town was full. Mostly noisy teenagers and early-twenties, released at last from the confines of family life. There were a few older couples and the odd single man or woman obviously out on the prowl. Mr J and I swapped stories of our own younger days trawling pubs and night clubs, alone or as part of a pack, seeking that last elusive bit of excitement before the holidays were over.

In the centre things cranked up a notch. Loud music blared from every hostelry and marauding bands of fun-seekers thronged the pavements, seeing-and-being-seen by potential partners in whatever shenanigans they had planned or hoped for. Now-friendly coppers stood in pairs at most interchanges directing foot traffic and exchanging banter with the revellers. They had the looks of men and women who knew exactly how their nights were going to end. We found a taxi with little trouble. At this point in the evening our only competition were men who had stopped in town earlier for a quick-one on their ways home and we're now incapable of independent travel.

We were pushed deeper into the pub by a large group following us in. One of them recognised me and nudged his mates.

'You're Suzette.'

'What gave it away? Was it the name badge?'

He took my hand as I held it out to him, but looked confused.

'I told you about her didn't I lads?'

'Nothing less than scandalous, I hope.'

The four or five young men were doing a poor job of hiding their lust as they looked me up and down. There wasn't much point in me sticking my bust out, covered as it was by a thick jumper and coat, but I did it anyway. A compliment is a compliment after all and deserves recognition.

'Well, you'll see for yourselves later on. I'll keep an eye open for you when I'm doing my act.'

I smiled sweetly and gave them a wink before pulling Mr J with me and heading for the bar. It was easier than the last time I had had to push my way through. This time I was carrying a large hold-all with my costumes in it, and, I realised was something of a local celebrity. Men pushed their mates out of my way, several of them nodding and smiling at me as they did so. One man, I recognised him as one of the regulars from the engineering factory, stopped me and introduced me to his wife. I don't know who was more embarrassed, her or me.

We eventually made that strip of no man's land all pubs have where the tables end and the crush around the bar has not yet started. Mr J and I both looked around for any familiar faces. He had more luck than me. We were suddenly taken from behind in a vice-like grip across our shoulders. Hurricane Mandy had arrived.

'What ho, Mandy.'

I stood on tiptoes and attempted to plant a kiss on her cheek. She was having none of that. I was hoisted under my armpits and given a firm smacker full on the lips. That brought a small cheer from the people nearest to us and a wave of turning heads passed down the bar as drinkers stretched to see what the fuss was about. I was returned, none too gently, red-faced and breathing slightly heavily to my feet. She turned to Mr J who was beaming at both of us. He took one of her hands and bent from the waist to kiss it. She simpered like a young girl.

'Come here.'

If I was lifted, he was engulfed. She bent slightly to embrace him, but between ham-hock arms and her massive bosom there was little to be seen of him as she kissed him. I could see the back of his head pushed backwards as she suctioned her mouth against his. I think all of those around held our breaths collectively as the clinch went on and on.

Mr J's knees buckled slightly when she eventually released him. He looked around confusedly and scarlet-faced as another collective cheer went up from the boys nearest to us. They had given up all pretence of surreptitiousness and were staring openly with huge smiles on their faces waiting to see what would happen next.

'Thank you Amanda, that was lovely.'

'You're welcome, Oswald.'

She had retained his hand and swung it girlishly as she looked fondly at him. I had to consciously close my mouth and stop myself staring. I had enjoyed two full days of Mr J telling me how wonderful he thought Mandy was at any available opportunity. Somewhere inside I had been a little scared by his infatuation. I was worried he was going to be hurt and I was very fond of him. What I had not factored-in was that Mandy might feel the same way. To me she had always appeared tough, rude and well, massive; somehow impenetrable.

'Looks like you're on to a promise tonight, Mr J.'

He frowned at me.

'Susan. I'm shocked. There is absolutely no need to be so crude.'

His expression softened and he grinned at me as he looked around.

'Well not yet, anyway.'

He winked and shrugged off his overcoat which he folded neatly over his arm. In the button hole of his immaculate suit he wore a beautiful red carnation. He pulled it free, kissed it and held it out to Mandy. She took it and placed it between her breasts. It disappeared almost immediately. I was tempted to say he'd need at least a dozen if any were to remain visible, but thought better of it after his earlier admonishment.

'Scarlett's around somewhere, I've asked her to look after you. I'm going to be busy behind the bar for a while now.'

She bent and kissed him. I scanned the crowd around the bar again. About three-quarters of the way down I saw an slender arm waving above the heads of those waiting to be served. It was sheathed in a clinging, silver-satiny material; I had no doubt it was Scarlett's. As well as an incredible ability to move with the silence and stealth of a jungle guerrilla, Mandy could always let you know she needed you without seeming to raise her voice. I pointed the arm out to Mr J.

'Let me take your coat. I'm going to get changed and I'll join you. Snug free?'

I turned for Mandy's answer. She was, as I should have guessed, already behind the bar pulling a second pint for a tattooed customer who was staring goggle-eyed into her cavernous cleavage. Mr J handed me his coat, straightened his tie and set off towards his goal. I watched him weave and push his way toward her. I remembered the last time he had come, his first time in the pub. He was worried about fitting in and scared of the place's reputation as a tough, stripper-bar. I smiled fondly. They grow up so quickly.

I caught Mandy's eye and nodded towards the back bar. She nodded back. I took off my own coat - cue the predictable wolf whistles and cries of "more" - and set off through the press.

I paused for a second to enjoy the coolness of the corridor before pushing open the door to the Snug and dropping my heavy bag and the two coats. I heaved a sigh of relief, that bag was heavier than I thought. I rubbed my shoulder in relief. There was an odd snuffling sound coming from somewhere.

'What ho, Tracy.'

In one corner, just back from the spluttering gas fire, she was on her knees before a short, nondescript man who had a broad grin on his face. She pulled his cock out of her mouth.

'Hi Susan. Good to see you. This is Alan.'

She went back to sucking him off.

'Hi Alan.'

'Hello. Susan was it?'

'You can call me Suzette.'

I looked at him carefully. He was definitely not her usual type. Correction: her usual type was anything with a dick, so he fitted the bill in that respect. But, he was a dapper, shortish man about forty. I had almost-exclusively seen her before with pimply-backsided youths about her own age. He was wearing chain-store polyester trousers and a short-sleeved white shirt with what looked suspiciously like a clip-on tie. The clincher was that he spoke; I had never had a discernible word out of any of her male friends before. No, he was definitely not her usual type. The question was: why was she sucking him off?

'George said we had to be nice to him.'

She was obviously picking up Mandy's ability to thought read. She wanked his cock and licked her lips. I passed her the alcopop she indicated with her eyes. It was a poisonous-green colour I had never seen before. She changed hands and took a long swig from the bottle before handing it back to me.

'He's a stayer this one. Wouldn't mind giving me a hand would you?'

'Miss Powderpuff?'

She nodded, grinning. She already had his smallish dick back in her mouth and was up to her nose in trousers. I pulled my jumper off over my head and turned Alan's head towards me before stroking my hands down over my bra and the new corset Mr J had helped me into before we set out. I tapped his face gently and smiled.

'Come in her mouth for me, Alan. Look at those luscious young lips feasting on your mighty manhood.'

I stroked his cheek and he groaned slightly.

'I want you to spray her mouth with your man-juices. Look, she's gagging for it.'

I looked down and he followed my gaze. Tracy was bobbing her head at a frantic rate. I ran my hand down his chest and pinched one of his nipples. I leaned down next to his ear and breathed hotly into it. I could smell the Brylcreem in his hair. My dad had used the same brand.

'I wish that hard cock was stuffing my tight pussy. You look so big.'

I increased the pressure on his nipple. I heard him groan a couple more times and then sigh. Tracy stopped moving her head and a small dribble of cum emerged from the side of her mouth. She scooped it back in with a finger and rolled back on her heels. I bent over and kissed Alan.

'I'll see you later, big boy.'

I pulled him to his feet and escorted him towards the door. He was hurriedly doing up his flies.

'Thanks for that Alan. You taste really nice.'

Tracy took another long pull from her bottle. I leaned back against the door as it closed behind the short man. We both started laughing.

'Ta, Susan. I thought I might have to fuck him there for a minute.'

'They like a bit of chat.'

She walked over to me, grabbed me round the waist and went to kiss me. I held her at arm's length and bussed her on the cheek.

'If you think you're snogging me with that cum-smeared gob, you've got another thing coming.'

She laughed, grabbed my bum and squeezed hard before letting me go. She sat down with her drink and watched me start to get changed. I laid out the French maid's dress, petticoats, apron and other accoutrements on one of the tables. She whistled.

'You're wearing that for your first set?'

'Yes. Is there a problem?'

'No. Just watch out Crown and Anchor, that's all.'

She leered at me as I stripped naked in front of her and reached inside my bag for the pair of sheer black panties I had chosen for tonight. I was already feeling excited. Before, I had stripped in front of a crowd as a last minute thing. Usually under the influence of alcohol. I had been thinking about tonight for the past few days and could feel a butterfly or two already rousing themselves and tickling my pussy with their wings.

'Made any New Year's resolutions?'

'Same as last year.'

'And that is?'

'Have more sex, of course. You?'

I laughed so much I dropped the flimsy bra I was trying to put on over my new corset. I had been wearing it since getting home from work but still wasn't used to the tightness, or the firm support under my tits which was now getting in the way.

'More sex? Is that possible?'

'Oh yes. Just a matter of scheduling. Jason bought me a diary for Xmas. Want me to help you with that?'

I was struggling again with the difference between the two garments. I nodded and she pulled me to my feet.

'First up, bra on first.'

She loosened the strings at the back of the corset. It had taken two of us half-an-hour to get me into it. I felt immediate relief as it eased. She expertly popped the catches holding the front together and I took a deep breath of relief as it fell open. I slipped on the bra and gasped as Tracy stroked my clearly visible nipples through the gauzy material.

'Wish I had breasts like yours.'

She bent to kiss one of my now stiff nubs. I pushed her away.

'Stop it. I don't want Alan's semen smeared all over it. You're not putting your mouth on me until you've at least cleaned your teeth.'

'Spoilsport. You wearing a suspender belt and stockings?'

'Yes.'

'Get them on next.'

She went back to her seat to watch me do it. It was the first time I had tried the fishnets I bought off the internet and I had a few problems straightening the seams. I looked at Tracy expectantly.

'You've got a nice bottom too.'

'Thank you. Now the corset?'

'Yes. Give it here, you're all thumbs.'

She grabbed it from me and started arranging it properly. As she went to close the first catch she suddenly dipped her head and licked my stomach. It was a long, full-tongued slobber from my navel to just below my boobs. I shrieked.

'Gotcha. Mmm, you taste nice too.'

'You bitch.'

I rubbed hard at the affected area. There were no tell-tale signs of Alan's recent emissions, but I suddenly felt sticky. The butterflies down below had a sudden breeding spurt too, I noticed. I wasn't going to tell her that.

'Guava and papaya bath oil. I soaked for a good hour before I came out tonight.'

'Do they do it in snack size?'

I couldn't tell whether she was joking or not. I watched her as she fastened me into the stiff corset. I felt myself steadily constricted as she went lower. When she had done them all - there must have been about twenty - she ran her finger slowly up the length of my pussy before standing up. It was butterfly population-explosion time.

'There. Turn around.'

'You really are a randy little tart.'

I did as I was told and felt her pulling the cords tighter behind me. My breathing started to get tighter and tighter as she tugged hard on each level. Eventually I told her to stop. She had much stronger fingers than Mr J and I was finding it hard to catch my breath.

'That's enough.'

'You sure? There's plenty more give in it yet.'

'I think so. I don't want to pass out.'

'OK. If you're absolutely certain.'

I felt her gathering the long strands which hung down at the back and starting to knot them. Suddenly I was struggling to breathe. She had tied the initial cross and then yanked the strings as hard as she could and quickly finish her bow. I felt the air squeeze out of my lungs; I couldn't feel any getting back in. I gasped and pulled at the front of the corset. The catches held firm. I was feeling desperate. I could hear Tracy cackling.

'Calm down. Just breathe. That's it nice and steady. You'll get used to it.'

I wasn't convinced, but tried to do what she said. I slumped back onto the chair I'd used to put on my stockings, then had to straighten up immediately, convinced I had cut off the air supply altogether.

'This can't be right.'

I had to articulate each word separately and try to breathe in between.

'You'll be OK. You look great.'

'Why did women wear these things? I feel like I'm stuck in a box.'

'Posture for one thing. Look how you're sitting. And your boobs look amazing.'

I looked down and my chin almost hit my cleavage. My globes, normally like large apples, had taken on small-melon proportions; I had to admit I was impressed. I concentrated on keeping my back straight and after a minute or two gulping air through my mouth found I could risk just using my nostrils. I began to feel slightly more comfortable. I wasn't going to tell her that though.

'Come on. You're the pain queen. Get into it.'

I glared at her; mostly because she was right. I was beginning to get the sort of feeling in the pit of my stomach that I felt when I was being spanked. I tried a little wriggle. It felt nice. I could even feel the pit of my stomach for a start. I gingerly stood up and reached for my dress. Tracy leaned back in her chair and picked up her bottle. She realised it was empty and went to the bar.

'Can I get another drink in here George? And one for Susan?'

I had my arms in the air and was wriggling the maid's dress down over my body when George came in. I heard the clink of glasses. As my head emerged I noticed he had brought me a pint. He was standing staring at me with his mouth open.

'Close that will you George, you're letting in a draught.'

'Every time I see you lass, from the very first time you came in here, I've had a hard-on. I think I might have to nip upstairs for some gentleman's relief. You look stunning.'