Chapter 8

Harvey told me he would be arriving early one Saturday evening and that I should leave the slider unlocked and do my usual pre-scene prep. He said I should make myself up to go out and he would provide all my clothes for the evening. When I emerged from the basement bathroom, cleaned out, showered, and lubed for possible anal play, I saw that he’d laid out some items on the opened-out hide-a-bed that I was totally unsurprised to see but also some things I’d never expected to wear for him. I gave him a raised-eyebrow look and he explained his intentions.

“There’s a dance studio on South Carson, and in addition to the usual ballroom stuff a young woman named Tiffany also teaches pole dancing.”

“You want me to learn to be a stripper?”

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary. You’ve been to dance clubs, so I’m sure you can dance; you’ve been to a strip club, so you’ve seen how some of the girls use the pole; and I think you already know how to provocatively take your clothes off. But you’ll be dancing, and stripping, for an audience, and I thought the pole might provide the right, shall we say... ambiance for your routine.”

There had to be a catch to this; by now I knew that Harvey must have some kind of nasty plan for me. “What kind of an audience?”

He couldn’t keep a straight face, so I knew this was going to be a challenge. “Just some high school boys who need a little... entertainment.”

Holy crap, I thought. He’s going to have me strip in front of a bunch of teenagers. But then I had an even more worrisome thought. “Is that all I’ll be doing, stripping for them?”

His smile turned into a shit-eating grin, and I knew I was in for a rough night. “No, there will be more, but I’ll keep that part a secret until it’s time for you to... perform.”

Oh, God, he’s going to have me fuck a teenage boy. I squirmed nervously, but I also felt myself start to get wet. He knows me too well, I thought. He knew that idea was going to turn me on. Having sex with a young boy had been a favorite fantasy of mine for a long time, and this might be that fantasy come true. If he makes me do it in front of other boys that will be even hotter. My nipples got hard, my pussy tingled, and I got even wetter.

I looked again at the assortment of clothes he’d set out for me, all in red. There was a bra, which was unusual enough, and a pair of full-coverage panties.

There was also a skimpy silk thong, so I assumed I was to wear that under the panties. A rather ordinary knee-length sun-dress that buttoned all the way down the front lay next to a pair of high-heeled sandals that had narrow bands across the toes and the arch of each foot; instead of an ankle strap, each shoe had a stiff spiral winding that would wrap around my lower calf. Those spirals would help hold the shoes in place but they were also decorative and eye-catching. At least the heels are only a bit more than four inches, not too high to dance in, I thought mordantly.

I dressed and Harvey drove me to South Carson Street. It was early evening, around 7:30, and getting dark. When we parked he took a duffel from the back seat and then helped me out of the SUV and into the dance studio. As we entered I saw a set of bleachers against the right-hand wall filled with teenage boys. Most of them appeared to be 16 or 17 but there was a sprinkling of boys as young as 14 amongst them. Directly in front of one end of the bleachers was a shiny brass pole that rose from the wood floor and reached all the way to the ceiling, which must have been at least 15 feet high.

As we walked together to stand in front of the audience there was a round of applause and a few wolf-whistles, and I blushed as the realization of what I was about to do hit me. We stopped a few feet from the lowest tier and Harvey bent to whisper in my ear. “You know what they want to see, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whispered back. “They want to see my body.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“You know it’s one of my big fantasies, being looked at by young boys.”

“It’s more than just being looked at, isn’t it?” he said lightly. “You fantasize about having one of them, don’t you?”

I looked across the sea of young faces and bodies. Most of the boys were good-looking and many of them appeared to be well-built. I felt moisture starting to form again in my pussy, and I blushed even more furiously. “You know I do.”

“Well, first things first,” he said more sternly. He stepped away from me and I stood alone in front of a crowd of 50 or 60 boys seated on the bleachers. Then he took out a wireless remote and pressed a button, and from the speakers around the space came a drum and guitar riff. I instantly recognized the opening of Pretty Woman, and I knew what I had to do. I turned and walked parallel to the bleachers in time with the music, putting one foot in front of the other and strutting like a runway model. When I reached the end of the stands I turned and went back the other way, swinging my hips and swaying my shoulders so my breasts moved from side to side as much as the bra allowed.

After I’d walked back and forth three times the music changed to an upbeat Enya tune. I continued my movements and started to unbutton my dress, first a button at the top and then one at the bottom of the skirt, alternating and keeping the dress mostly closed but giving glimpses of my undergarments as I turned at each end of my parade route. When my dress was completely unbuttoned the music changed again, and I heard the bell-like opening sound and then the strong drum back-beat of an instrumental cover of the Stones’ Honky Tonk Women.

I pranced over to the pole, wrapped both hands around it, leaned back, and swung myself around it several times, sending my long blonde hair flying and letting my dress open completely. I heard cheers and more whistles from the boys along with one yell of “Take it off!” so I reached with one hand, pushed the straps off my shoulders, and let the dress fall to the floor. I used my foot to push it away behind me and just stood there, and every excited voice I heard, saying things like, “Hell, yeah,” and “God, she’s hot,” just turned me on something fierce.

The music changed again, and I heard the tapping drum and then the flute begin the slow, almost hypnotic strains of Ravel’s Bolero. I started moving my feet to the sounds and then Harvey pointed to my waist. I slid my thumbs into the waistband and slowly pushed my panties across my hips and down my legs, revealing the thong covering my wet pussy. I let them fall to the floor and kicked them aside, then turned my back on the boys and slapped my bare ass-cheeks a couple of times. The cheers and shouts got even louder and they were becoming more blatantly sexual; I heard admiring comments about how tight my ass was.

I wasn’t really dancing, just gyrating, swirling and twerking my hips and shrugging my shoulders as I moved from one end of the bleachers to the other. I put my left arm across my breasts to hold my bra in place and reached back with my right hand to unhook it. Then I faced my audience, used my right hand to push the bra straps off my shoulders, and slowly teased removing my bra, lowering it an inch at a time until it was just barely covering my erect nipples. The boys were all clapping in time with the music, and I stood stock-still for perhaps 15 seconds, then grabbed the corner of the bra in my left hand and flung it in Harvey’s direction, revealing my round, firm, D-size breasts.

There were a couple of seconds of stunned silence, and then the boys were all cheering, whistling, and otherwise showing signs of real pleasure. I sashayed back and forth in front of them, moving my shoulders so my heavy breasts swayed as I moved, and their catcalls and lewd remarks became even louder. I feasted on their excitement, letting their admiration fuel my arousal; I’d never thought I would get this close to acting out one of my strongest fantasies. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harvey gesture, and I reached for the twin bands on each side of the skimpy thong that was all I had left except for my heels.

I pushed the thong down my legs and off, exposing the swollen, puffy, wet lips of my hairless pussy. The cheers now were deafening, and after standing face-on in front of the stands and swinging my hips to emphasize my moist lower lips I returned to the pole and used it to swing around a few times. I was flushed with a combination of embarrassment and pride; showing myself off this way was incredibly wanton but also incredibly arousing, and this exhibition had me more turned on than I’d ever thought possible.

I let go of the pole and Harvey handed me a big fluffy towel. I wiped the sheen of sweat from my body and he helped me into a short, lace-trimmed, red satin robe as most of the attendees started moving towards the front door of the studio. But then I saw four of the older boys head unobtrusively towards the back of the studio, and each of them was accompanied by a younger boy who looked to be about 14. They disappeared down the hallway, and when everyone else had left Harvey locked the studio door. Then he returned to stand beside me and put his arm around my waist.

“You’ve performed very well so far,” he said casually.

So far? I’d been pretty sure he had something else planned for me, and now I was totally convinced. “What do you mean by so far, and where did those eight boys go?”

He didn’t answer me directly, but what he did say got my juices flowing. “All of the older boys in that group are sexually active, and I’ve spoken with their current girlfriends. Each girl told me that her guy was a good lover, was very well hung, had excellent control, and shot a big load when he was ready.”

Well, now I know more of what Harvey has in mind. I’m going to get fucked by a teenager, one of my biggest fantasies. “Okay ... I guess I’m not surprised so far ... but what’s the rest of the deal?”

“The older boys have younger brothers, and each of the older boys is going to slam you from behind while you blow his brother until you get a mouthful.”

Oh, wow, not just one teenage boy but four of them will fuck me and I’ll have to blow another four while that’s happening. Harvey’s going to hit a bunch of my hot-buttons all at once – being watched having sex, big cocks, being DPed, sex with young boys, giving head, a gang-bang ... and he knows I like things rough sometimes, so I’m sure that slamming he mentioned will be part of the program. “It sounds like I’m going to be filled up at both ends,” I said saucily.

“Well, you’ll swallow, of course, and as for the other end, that’s ... covered.”

What does that mean? I wondered. “Is that all of your plan?”

“Not quite,” he replied with a smile, “but I’ll keep the rest to myself for now.” He reached down and slid his fingers through my pussy lips, bumping them against my clit on each stroke, and my secretions resumed flowing.

The boys started to emerge from the hallway wearing nothing but boxers or briefs, an older and a younger one together, and each pair was carrying a three-inch-thick gym mat between them. When they got to the center of the dance floor they stacked the mats to create a foot-high platform and then sat on the bleachers. The older boys were uniformly tall and muscular; they looked like they were either football players or wrestlers. If what their girlfriends told Harvey is true I’m going to get a real workout, I thought. But that idea was exciting rather than upsetting, and my arousal increased another notch.

Harvey took my robe and I got up on the stack of mats, naked except for my heels, on my hands and knees and sideways to my audience so they would have a good view of what was going to happen. Then one pair of boys approached me. The younger one, obviously having been coached as to what to do, lay on his back in front of me, placing his body perpendicular to mine. His older brother moved to kneel on the mat behind me.