Chapter 49: First Act - Resha Sparks

After my Dangerfield reference the spotlight on me went out. A spotlight on center stage showed the curtain parting to reveal a couple standing very close next to each other, with their backs to the audience. From the back we saw that one tall figure is wearing a dark suit with tails and a top hat. The other figure - foot shorter - is in what looks like a white dress with a full floor-length skirt. Above the skirt she seems to have a short suit coat or formal jacket that only extends down to the waist - a bright white waistcoat. There is a frilly collar above the waistcoat, and the three-quarter sleeves of the coat balloon out a great deal. White gloves extend up to her elbows. Her hair is up, blond, is crowned by a tiara and covered with a veil of very wide lace with small white flowers interwoven with the lace.

There is the sound of a single female voice speaking in the background, it is grabbled and unintelligible, the thought that pops into my head is of somebody talking with marbles in their mouth. The voice stops suddenly and after a moment the woman’s voice rings out clearly with the usual marital affirmation, “Yes, I do.”

At that point the woman pivots her body 90 degrees and looks to the audience, revealing the dark flesh of her face and legs. It is Resha. As she pivots she stays close to the other figure, but we catch glimpses of a third figure who appears to be kneeling, as if centered in front of the other two.

Resha is wearing one of the skimpier, more revealing “bride” costumes worn by the strippers at the first bachelor party. There is not much there, it is more a corset without bra cups, her large dark breasts are rather exposed. I must say, while she was in profile her large breasts were very impressive standing up with no support. (Both Gracie and Abril are also a similar volume and stand up even more, but I am the only guy here who knows that.) The outfit extended down below the waist but stopped well short of her exposed pubic mound. The corset is open in the front instead of the rear as usual, there is a very even gap of about two inches of exposed dark flesh between the halves, with the garment held closed by a dozen white silk ribbons lacing the halves in place. The exposure makes the garment seem more radical and shocking.

The outfit has been enhanced by the floor length full skirt with petticoats and ruffles underneath, but only on the rear half, the front of the skirt does not exist. There is also the waistcoat, which is a cutaway design so in front the lapels swoop out to just cover her nipples, but leave most of the round domes of dark flesh exposed. The frilly collar is only is around the neck. Resha’s crotch, which features large protruding inner lips, is contained in a tiny pouch of white silk that starts very low and is isolated, with no visible means of support.

The contrast - we saw no bare flesh from the back, yet Resha’s dark flesh is almost completely exposed in front - is breathtaking. I can see that her flesh has been lightly oiled, something the mind read as even sexier and more naked.

She has not started to strip yet, but I am sure that half the audience has fallen in love on the spot. I noticed one other detail, it looks like a tattoo on her exposed pubic mound, a stylized crown with the word “Prince” in script.

I have to say, that warmed my cold, black heart. It was probably inked, but I said to myself, “Resha is going to get such a pleasuring for this...”

A lot of work had been done on the timing, so people got a full look at Resha as she first turned 90 degrees and then held the position. People took in all the details of her beauty as she was revealed. Then, after a long beat while everyone digested the view, Resha took another step, this time to the side, pivoting as she did so she now faced the audience while she stepped aside so her skirt revealed the third person on stage.

It was Bente. She was on her knees, in front of the other standing figure, the one in the tux. Her hair was styled in a wave, as a man might, and she was wearing a clerical collar, stiff white cuffs on her wrists, and a tiny, almost toy-like white apron that went from just below her pert little tits to just above her slit. It concealed her belly button and exposed the others.

But that was not what caught everybody’s attention. The man standing in front of her was, indeed, Tango.

Protruding straight out of his pants was a cock, an immense, long cock that Bente had in her mouth and was trying to get deeper, but was having no success. A great deal of the shaft remained exposed between them, plainly unexperienced, or at least dry of saliva.

The timing was so great that it was like the previous words still hung in the air, Bente’s garbled voice and Resha’s last words, “Yes, I do.”

Bente pulled her mouth off the cock. The head and a bit of the length had been in her mouth, it looked huge in girth and the ridge seemed like double. Tango looked down, bemusement lighting his face.

Now that she was free to speak, Bente continued the conversation, “Get real girlfriend. My man loves me, and I know I love him, but love has it’s size limits!”

Resha looked at Bente appraisingly before she replied, “I’m a little shorter than you. If you get me something to kneel on I will show you.”

That was when Bente stood up, revealing two very attractive features. One was her slit. As she stood her legs parted and it showed the inverted “V” of a gap. Everybody had to love that. It was a simple slit, clean and smooth, a perfect “little girls” cleft in her body, looking as if she was innocent as a baby of even a single follicle of pubic hair. Her slit was so perfect that I would swear, looking at it, that it had never been fucked, and I wondered what I was missing by denying her the white scarf, and myself that yummy little treat of a body.

Second, while Resha had on low-heel shoes and white stocking that went up to within three inches of her crotch, Bente was virtually barefoot.

I say “virtually” because around her calves, ankles and feet she wore white ribbons, like those of a ballet dancer’s shoes, except that instead of attaching to shoes they continued to wrap around her otherwise bare feet, until the were anchored by looping around the second and third toe on each foot. To me, and many men in the Colony (where nothing is paved), the term “barefoot” is suggestive of sex, as sensible shoes are worn outside in the mud, and such shoes are never worn in bed. Being barefoot is a nonverbal signal saying, “ready for bed.”

The white ribbons drew the eyes and the viewers attention to the bare feet and suggested a woman ready for bedroom activities. Plus, I have to say Bente had very cute little feet. They certainly were not in Li’s class, but still very nice. (Note to self: whatever I decide about the white scarf tradition, it will include bare feet exposed in some way, as innocence of the edge of womanhood.)

After getting up Bente turned and took a few steps showed her attractive double handful of a very cute bare butt swaying with her movement. I know my teeth were aching to take a bite out of that sweet German-bred heinie. She returned with a cushion for Resha to kneel on.

At this point Tango had turned so he was in profile to the audience, showing that cock coming out of his button-fly slacks in full glory. It seemed large, almost but not quite unrealistic in size. The skin tone, the slight sag, and the movement all said it was real. Real, but well into the realm of “porn star” size.

Resha settled herself in front of it and sighed in admiration. Then she said, “Just to make sure there are no problems here, and we stay friends after today, do you both approve of what I am going to do.

“Yes, I do,” Bente said.

Resha looked at the audience and cocked an eye, breaking the fourth wall, placing herself metaphorically within the audience. “Where have I have heard that before?” The line got a laugh and broke the tension. The Resha looked up at Tango. “What about you?”

“Yes, I do. In fact, if you pull this off maybe we will be more than friends. Ever been to Rio? We are going there for the first stop on our honeymoon. But Bente has said she wants more time with the horses so maybe I could use a travel buddy.”

As he said it Bente rolled her eyes. “I can’t help that I was born with a small but lovely mouth.”

Immediately Tango responded like a Pavlov dog, “it is a lovely mouth.”

Resha comforted Bente further, after a quick chaste kiss she said, “Don’t feel bad, you know where I would appreciate that sweet little mouth of yours. But as to this business, I am a professional. Watch and maybe you will learn something you can practice for your honeyguy. He is sweet, but I am kind of attached,” she touched her tattoo very lovingly and sighed, then got back to the issue at hand. “Look, it is all about controlling yourself, your breathing and your muscles.” She assumed the position in front of Tango.

Resha gripped the cock with both hands, she had small hands but the cock she was holding was like a bat that fit both of her hands between the ridge and his body. Having made that point she let go with one hand and carefully began to take the cock into her mouth. She easily went past the point Bente achieved, then in profile it seemed she started to work it past the curve at the back of her mouth and into her throat. We could see something in her throat, and she started swallowing.

She got to the halfway point, then past it so her lips were against her hand. She was going slowly as she let go with the second hand and was holding on with just her thumb and forefinger.

Bente became agitated. “I don’t see you breathing ... Please, don’t hurt yourself ... we can do what you want ... don’t hurt yourself just to prove something to me ... I don’t want these other guests to miss you ... Please!”