Jessica and the Game

Amateur

I watched her closely as she stood at the front of the little stage looking out into the audience. The stage was less than eighteen inches higher than the small dance floor in front of it. There were no more than ten tables, each with two double wide comfortable chairs, that might even be classed as divans or love seats. All were occupied by couples, nestling down into the deep and soft upholstery. My being here was the result of Tom and his son’s skateboard. But I am getting ahead of my story.The lights had dimmed right after the girl had climbed the three steps onto the stage platform. All conversation had stopped and the small room was quietly and patiently waiting. The atmosphere was filled with promises of another intimate show. What or who or how or when was never announced beforehand, which made for a truly unique performance each night.I found myself sitting in the shadows at the back wall, which was fine with me. Heck, just being here in this super exclusive club was almost a miracle. My wife and I had reserved this night to go dancing and bar hopping and she had metamorphosed herself into a cross between a society lady and a closet slut. She was not just attractive; she was the quintessence of the fusion of femininity and blatant sexuality. She knew what she was doing and she feasted on the admiration of the men in her vicinity as well as the envious looks of some of her less blessed sisters. My wife Liolani and I had met on Maui where I had been sent to supervise the installation of a new generating system. She was, as she had laughingly told me, a history child. Her genes reflected, in a small way, the ethnic diversity of her island. She claimed that there was some Hawaiian, some Chinese, some Portuguese, and some Dutch in her. Those he was sure of, but there might be others, she had told me. The mixture had produced an exotic beauty with skin just a tad darker than most Europeans. Her dark eyes had a slight almond shape, a hint of the Oriental, and were one of her attributes that earned her the nickname I had given her while we dated. Let me tell you about that.The people of Maui are extraordinarily proud of their Island, and rightfully so. You can hear them often exclaim that MAUI NO KA OI, which is Hawaiian and means ‘There s nothing better than Maui’. One day we were standing under the huge Bunyan tree in Lahaina when I laughingly paraphrased the saying and told her that LIOLANI NO KA OI. I later on shortened that to KA OI, and then to just KOI. While I liked her musical name Liolani and used it often, it seemed easier and faster to call her Koi. And believe me, while this sounds exactly like c-o-y, the c-o-y word does not apply bursa escort to her.The night I will be telling you abut started innocent enough. Liolani and I were walking to the door leading into the garage when the main door bell rang. It was Jimmy, the son of our good friend Tom. He handed me an envelope on which was a scribbled message. Jimmy told me that his dad had instructed Jimmy to make sure that we understood that we were not to open the envelope until we were at least ten miles from the house. I thanked Jimmy and rushed back into the garage, anxious to start our evening. We honored Tom’s request and waited until we had driven about 15 minutes.”My God,” exclaimed my wife,” Tom broke his right leg trying out Jimmy’s new skateboard.” She tore open the envelope and found two tickets for the Club Venus, plus another message. It just told us to enjoy the show. He was sorry he could not go but hoped we would tell him why this club was so exclusive and how we liked the show. He had been given the tickets two days before by his CEO as a special bonus for snaring an important account for the firm. As a whimsical post script he asked my wife to think of something outrages to make the evening more memorable.We were rounding the last corner before the club when she turned to me with a cattish smile to inform me that she had just wiggled out of her panties and that she would be bare bottom tonight. She had done that before on two occasions and it had turned her on tremendously then, especially since she at both times had worn a miniskirt. It would not be that daring tonight since she had decided on a smart black cocktail skirt, which came down to just above her knee.This had been a good choice since most people at the club were dressed more sedately than we normally dressed when bar hopping. We walked up to the small bar and ordered our drinks, then got acquainted with the couple who shared our table. They were in their early fifties but acted more like our age, more like early thirty, down to their tastes of music, we found out. They were regulars and proceeded to tell us about the club. You never know, they told us, what will happen. It might be a risqué skit, it might be one act of Shakespeare’s Falstaff, or a sex show, or a quartet of artists unentertaining with their creations. But the events were always interesting and in good taste.Our chairs, love seats, divans, were at the back wall. But since the establishment was relatively small one still felt connected with whatever happened on the small stage. There was not space enough for a band, so music was piped in. However, I noticed a large ensemble of drums and cymbals in a corner next to the stage. bursa escort bayan A very good looking young fellow with a terrific physique was busy making adjustments and I assumed that he was the drummer, But what kind of music can one play on an ensemble solely consisting of percussion instruments I wondered. I would find out to my delight.Punctually at eight we were reminded by a drum roll that the entertainment would start shortly and everyone returned to their places. A gorgeous lady in a flowing dark purple dress that swept the floor, arrived from somewhere backstage and announced tonight’s program. I will refrain from describing the program; it was a wonderful mélange. The evening would then conclude with some kind of game but no explanation was forthcoming.The show started with a poet reading some of his poetry, which I liked very much. It was an unusual opening act, unusual I felt for a club that, I had heard, was way off the mainstream, mostly presenting entertainment appealing to the more prurient tastes. His poetry was both funny as well as sexually titillating. It brought forth a lot of female giggling, which made it quite clear that at least the ladies appreciated the poet’s works. I also noticed that my wife appreciated the looks of the stage hand in the right corner of the stage who supplied props like the stool for the poet. He was a tall, wide shouldered man in his mid thirties it seemed. His bare chest showed off his splendid physic. Must be Hawaiian whispered Liolani to me. He had been introduced at the beginning of the evening as Halako, which I promptly shortened to Al in my mind.The last number before the “game” was a flamenco dance by a colorfully dressed Latina. The way it was presented was both artistic as well as highly erotic. I noticed my wife next to me crossing and uncrossing her legs. It must be the color and the movements that made her fidgety, I reasoned, it could not be the dancer. But then I noticed that her attention was not all centered on the dancer, her eyes kept straying to the drummer. He did manage to play music on his drums, a subtle accompaniment mostly but sometimes bursting into a joyous celebration of raw lust; always completely in tune with the dance. I did not mind the least If my sweetheart enjoyed some fantasies involving the drummer. There was another fifteen minute recess after the flamenco, after which we would be treated to the “game”. A drum roll called everyone back to their seats and I could almost physically feel the audience’s excitement.The lady MC glided back onto the stage and waited until all conversation had ceased and everyone’s attention was focused on her. “We have a high stakes escort bursa game ahead,” she announced with a big smile. “For this we need a volunteer, either a lady or a man.” When no one stepped forward she told us that she would select some lucky person by asking a few questions.”Here is my first question. Is there a lady in the house who tonight goes without panties?” she asked. No one answered, so I took my wife’s arm and raised it high. When the MC noticed my wife’s raised arm she clapped her hands. Her “We have a winner,” brought forth a big round of applause during which she stepped off the stage, carefully raising her dress slightly. When she arrived at our table she studied my wife for a moment, then she looked at me as if assessing what kind of reaction I would have to my wife being the winner. It was obvious that the winner was going to be the center piece of the “game’.She took my wife by the hand, pulled her up and introduced herself as Jennifer and congratulated my wife. Then the MC took my wife’s hand and gently led her up onto the stage.  The lights in the club started to dim, except for the circle of a spot light focused on the two women standing in the center of the stage. Jennifer again took my wife’s hand and gently pulled her to the front.I should tell you that my wife is considered a natural beauty. Except for some eye liner and some eye shadow, she never wears any make-up. It isn’t needed. I always wondered what other men considered her best assets; her petite, slender figure, her slightly tanned soft skin, her smiling, challenging dark eyes, or her coal black long hair that she wears in many artistic ways?As I watched her standing at the edge of the tiny stage I could see in her face displayed several emotions tumbling through her. There was curiosity, there was exhibitionist enjoyment of being allowed to display herself to the watching audience, but there was also a slight apprehension about what was to come next.”The rules are simple,” explained the lady MC. “Anyone in the audience may make a request of Jessica, accompanied by a bid of no less than twenty dollars. Before Jessica makes her move another bidder for the same or a higher bid may claim that Jessica will not comply. The loser will have to deposit the amount of the higher of the two bids in this box we will bring to your table.” What came next was a definite relief for my girl; I could see it in her face. “I would like to introduce you to our guests, but I forgot to ask for your name.” The tone in the MC’s voice made this a question, not a statement. My wife tuned to her and answered: “My name is Jessica.” “No. no,” said the MC “An actor speaks directly to the audience. Go and face them and introduce yourself.”My sweetheart turned to look into the darkened room and with a clear and confident voice announced: “My name is Jessica.” I knew then that she had herself in control.