The Show of Our Lives, Part 2

by HardJulia

"The other girls can't wait to see you," said 12-year-old Cecille. She looked me up and down appraisingly. I took my long fur coat off and handed it to her. She stood with it over her arm for quite a few seconds while she took in my outfit. That night I was the archetypal aging hooker in my tiny skin-tight red dress and fishnet tights.

Sally shed her coat too. Cecille's eyes moved to her rather outrageous patent leather crop top and matching hot pants but quickly returned to me. I figured she preferred older women.

We finshed our drinks quickly and followed Cecille to a large double door which also swished open automatically. Our eyes took a while to adjust to the low light level in the gym hall itself. There was a makeshift stage in the centre of the floor, illuminated by colored stage lighting, and covered in drapes and large throw cushions. There was one chair, a red padded regency-style creation with no arms. Everything was as we had requested.

After a few seconds we could see around fifteen uniformed schoolgirls seated on the floor around the stage. They turned to look at us as we followed Cecille across the floor, our high heels clip-clopping on the polished wooden parque.

Our mistress of ceremonies hung our furs carefully on a coat-stand by the stage and turned to face the other girls. I could see now that our audience comprised girls as young as eight. Cecille seemed to be the eldest. She addressed them authoritatively.

"Girls, our star guests have arrived and I think we should get the show started right away," she said. "Just in case the rest of the school gets back early."

She pulled a remote out of her blazer pocket and fiddled with it. The gym was filled with the quite slow sensuous disco music treacks we had sent with our email. It was a little loud at first and Cecille turned it way down. "The caretaker's still around in the main building" she explained to us. "I guess he's drunk by now but we'd better not take any chances."

When she had found the right volume, Cecille made a sweeping gesture towards the stage "Ladies, please begin." she said.

We mounted the stage to a ripple of applause and turned to our audience. We slowly turned around so the girls could get a good look at us. Fifteen pairs of excited young eyes followed our every movement. My excitement started to mount as I realised I might get my hands on some of these young lovelies as the evening went on. There was real desire in those faces.

We started as usual by doing a slow romantic dance together, Sally is quite a bit taller than me and I rested my head on her shoulder. I rested my hands on her shiny leather butt and turned her so the girls could get a good look. Sally stopped moving for a few seconds, took my face between her hands and kissed me hard on the lips. There was more clapping as the kiss went on and on.

Sally took me by the hand, led me to the chair sat me down and started her sexy dance routine. Looking at our young audience I saw that most eyes were glued to my younger friend as they realised she was going to strip. However, there was a group huddled together on my side of the stage who seemed to have eyes only for yours truly. One of them was Cecille. I hitched my tight dress up further to give them a leg show and winked at them. They giggled but continued to look me up and down as though I was a piece of meat. I loved that look.

I put my tongue out and waggled it suggestively. One of my little fan club gestured back; looking straight at me she made an "O" with the finger and thumb of one hand and shoved two fingers of the other hand into it vigorously. Her meaning was pretty clear. I tried to look shocked but the girls weren't fooled.

The attention of my admirers was diverted briefly as Sally's top came off. My tanned and athletic friend had lovely pert breasts. I recalled they both fitted my two cupped hands perfectly, while Sally usually had to handle one of mine with both hands.

Still gyrating, she came close to me and bent down to give me another little kiss. I reached for her tits and she drew back and wagged her finger at me. Pretending to tease me was part of the show.

Sally turned her attention to the audience and strutted around the edge of the stage, fondling her own breasts. She stopped in front of a little girl with short dark hair, no older than eight, faced her and unfastened the top button of her tiny shorts. She beckoned the girl to her, indicating she needed help with the zip.

The girl looked at her friends either side, who pushed her playfully to her feet. Even in the colored stage lighting I could see she was blushing deeply.

With Sally slightly elevated on the stage, the girl's face was level with the fly of Sally's shorts. She bravely took hold of the waistband, carefully avoiding touching the young woman's tanned skin, and fiddled with the zip, at first to no avail. It eventually came down and the tight shorts sprang apart to reveal a triangle of Sally's red satin thong. The girl stepped back thinking her job was done but she was beckoned back. Sally wanted her shorts pulled down too. Even unzipped, the shorts were quite tight around Sally's muscular thighs.

The little girl had quite a job to pull them down and Sally wasn't helping at all. She was careful not to dislodge Sally's thong as she pulled at the slippery patent leather material. The shorts eventually dropped to the floor and there were cheers from some of the audience. Sally turned and, bending slightly, showed the girl her tight buttocks. The cord of the thong disappeared between them at the top of her crack.

Facing the girl again, she played with the ties of her thong, clearly indicating she wanted it removed too. The eight-year-old saw the rest of the girls looking up at her expectantly and lost her nerve. She shook her head and looked shyly down at her feet. they were clad in shiny Mary-Jane shoes over her white ankle socks.

Sally picked a large silk drape from the stage, returned to the little girl and swept the silk over her head like a tent and back around her own waist. It was as though Sally was wearing a voluminous dress and the little girl was underneath it. The girl had a feeling of privacy now and regained her courage.

I'd seen Sally do this routine before. She formed a kind of private relationship with one of the audience, usually the shyest-looking one. A few months back she had done it with the President of the Denver Ladies Horticultural Society, a very prim-looking woman of sixty or so who, after the show, had overcome her inhibitions and sucked both our pussies with great enthusiasm.

We could see the little girl's hands moving under the silk to the ties of Sally's thong. Seconds later the tiny garment dropped to the floor. I thought the girl must now be getting a good view of Sally's cunt in the light filtering through the thin material, perhaps she could also smell the musky scent of it.

My younger friend put both hands behind the little girl's head, still obscured under the drape, and pulled the girls face closer to her crotch.