Piece by piece, they undressed each other to more traditional striptease music, flinging flowery cotton and delicate lace around the stage with abandon. But Leila—“my” Leila as I was beginning to think of her—needed to keep the upper hand. She bent over the picnic basket and pulled out two long, deep-pink bondage ropes that she wound around her friend’s pregnant belly and down around her black lace pants (her one remaining item of clothing), stroking her all the while.
The French girl was now held captive. Leila kissed her delicately, then with a malevolent grin to the audience, grabbed a bunch of roses from the stage, raised them above her head and brought them down with a thrash on the creamy flesh exposed around the ropes. Marie let out little exaggerated cries of pain and astonishment as the flowers came down in rhythm, then she sank to the floor in a faint.
Leila took pity on her. Turning gentle and soothing, she took up a can of cream from their abandoned picnic and sprayed it over Marie’s tits, then made a big show of licking it off. I found myself breathing in time with those licks and realized my mouth was wide open. I like a girl who can take control.
But the tables were about to turn. Marie snuck out from under Leila, broke free of her bonds, took up a cucumber from the basket and started to brandish it about. The brunette beauty feigned horror, pointing at the cucumber and shaking her head—apparently it was too big. So Marie took up a gigantic kitchen knife and wielded that instead. First Leila widened her eyes in even greater horror and the audience laughed, then her tormentor used the knife to whittle down the cucumber.
Apparently we were building toward the grand finale to which they had alluded in the dressing room.
The French girl first pushed the vegetable into Leila’s mouth, watching her suck and lick on it. Then she removed it and moved behind Leila, showing the cucumber to the audience like a magician, before bending to her task. I had a magnificent view of Leila’s naked body as she gave in to lust and bent forward to allow her friend full access. She was about to get well and truly fucked and I was soaked with desire. I wanted to do what Marie was doing, as she eased the wet dong between Leila’s legs and up, up… One person whooped. I thought maybe it was Siggy. The rest of us were incapable of sound, as Marie pulled the cucumber in and out of Leila’s tight pussy, somehow retaining her poise all the while. We were each glued to the spot, watching in awed and delighted silence as this full-on sex show thrust toward its climax.
That cucumber was having quite an impact on Leila’s entire body. As she struggled to stay standing, her carefully composed features now betrayed a hint of her genuine enjoyment of the fucking she was getting. The thrusting grew faster and faster, the music built to a crescendo and, right on cue, the two girls shuddered together in ecstasy. At that moment, Leila somehow managed to pop open a bottle of sparkling wine and spray it dramatically into the audience.
Released from the spell and showered with its magic simultaneously, the audience cried out or laughed in delight. The butches and trans guys standing in the front shouted, “Oi!” as they shook wine from their carefully waxed hair, but really, who could object after what we had just witnessed?
I sprinted up the steps to the wings, ready to go on as soon as the girls came off. But when they appeared, stark naked, from the wrong direction, I realized they must have exited into the audience before following me up the steps and through the dressing room.
“Well done!” I whooped. “That was amazing.” Marie nodded coolly; Leila smirked and winked. I picked my way through the devastation on the stage, trying not to stomp on the irreplaceable china.
“Did you enjoy that?” I asked into the microphone. The crowd roared. I was giddy myself so I knew how they felt. “Give them another round of applause!”
As the clapping burst forth, Marie and Leila pulled open the drapes to take another curtain call. I stood there, watching them in all their glory, curtseying inches away from me. As they left the stage once more, I said to the audience, “Well, I think I need to have a lie-down now… probably backstage.” I winked as I bowed and took my leave.
The two performers seemed calm and neat now in their lingerie, putting things away in boxes and bags. Had my moment passed?
“I’ll go and clear up,” I said.
“Come back when you’re done,” said Leila, giving me an intense look that could mean only one thing. Marie raised an eyebrow at her. I just nodded.
I tried to ignore the fact that my hands were shaking as I helped a mohawked young Freddy to clear the stage. She’d brought the cleaning gear from behind the bar and was already energetically engaged in her task. I wrapped the honored cucumber in paper towels before dropping it into the bin with the kind of respect I might give a dead bird in the garden.
“I just went and had a wank,” said Freddy, with her usual lack of inhibition. “I couldn’t wait.”
She must have been quick about it.
“I think I may have something better lined up,” I told her. “I think…” I could barely say the words. “I think Leila is interested in me.”
“Oh, boy. Oh, girl! They are both so hot. Good luck!”
I nipped into the unisex loos to wash my hands. I hadn’t been in a relationship for a while and I took every chance I could for sex, but this was an opportunity sent from heaven, so good that I didn’t quite believe it… until I passed Marie on her own at the bar and realized she had vacated the dressing room to give Leila some space.
After hosting the cabaret on and off for the past year, I’ve had a few fantasies about what could happen in that room, but this would be the first time I’d put it to the test. I knocked and entered. Leila was standing there, still in her panties, but she had removed the little lacy bra. She leaned back against the counter. “You came back,” she said, smiling. “My silver fox.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak. I tried to make an asset of silence, cupping her face in my hand. Her skin was warm and smooth; her deep, dark eyes cheeky and seductive. I loved that she had just revealed everything to everyone but saved the after-party for me.
“You had better be packing,” she told me.
I licked her face. Don’t ask me why. I just wanted to do it and I had the feeling I could do anything I wanted. I pressed into her so she could feel my hard cock through my jeans, its head pushing against her crotch through the thin lace of her panties. She gasped. I touched my lips to hers and they opened, our tongues meeting hungrily. I knew her performance had made us both hot in different ways.
“Did you come onstage?” I asked.
Leila shook her head. “It’s a performance,” she said.
“You got fucked with that cucumber in front of all those horny people by that gorgeous friend of yours and you didn’t come?”
“I need a butch to make me come,” she said, with an odd, ironic smile that meant it might be true or might just be a tease. I didn’t mind either way. It was a game I was willing to play.
Her lipstick was still shining and I honed back in on that luscious mouth, her wet lips opening to mine. She was ready to melt for me. I slipped a hand into those gossamer panties and gasped at how wet she was. Her hips pushed forward and my fingers slid into that delicious cunt. “Ohhh,” she moaned from the back of her throat as we continued to kiss like hungry picnickers.
Then she pulled her mouth from mine to murmur, “I don’t have much time. Marie gets tired… with the pregnancy.” She grabbed at my hair and spoke right in my face. “Just fuck me with your cock. Fuck me hard.”