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#Mature #Teen

The ATAPAW Agency: Part 4 : The Girl in the Cake

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Mr Rodd

Bianca presents very special prizes at the football club dinner. (A stand alone story - don't worry if you haven't read Parts 1-3)

She knew the Agency was called "Any Time Any Place Any Where" for a reason, but hiding backstage in a huge cardboard Christmas cake wasn't the kind of "place" she was expecting when she'd signed up!

To be honest it was a premium booking. She had been chosen to represent the whole Agency and it was a tribute to all her hard work throughout the year.
Her clients had given her a string of gold star reviews and she was getting no end of repeat bookings.

All this meant Bianca was the natural choice when the local football club, Roddport Town, asked ATAPAW if they might have a girl to "helpout" at their Christmas party.

Roddport didn't have the greatest football team. They were perennially mid-table in one of the lower leagues.
They didn't have the riches to hire a swanky hotel or book a host of celebrity entertainers, like their Premier League counterparts, but they did have their own clubhouse and that was enough to serve their needs.
They wouldn't even need to splash out on of lots of expensive decorations either, because they weren't going to have a boring traditional Christmas party.
They were going to have a "Sportsman's Evening" instead...

This event would be far removed from a family friendly, child focused Christmas party.
It would be an adult only night, designed for an all male audience.
It would present itself as a respectable and worthy affair, with a strict dress code, the promise of a sumptuous roast dinner and a celebrated ex-player as "guest of honour".
They would even donate part of the ticket price to a local charity along with all the revenue from their raffle.
But however they tried to dress it up, there was no doubt that, in reality, the evening was little more than an excuse for a bawdy, boozy gathering when full grown, successful men would regress to become a bunch of horny adolescents on a boys' night out.

------------------------------------------

Bianca made sure that she arrived at the club well before the start of the show to meet up with Vince Proctor, the club chairman, who had made his (modest) fortune as a used car salesman.
She found him charming and slimy in equal measure, but he owned the football club and he was essentially her employer for the evening.
He outlined her role. It was very much as she expected and whilst everybody else thought she was simply there as "window dressing" to present the raffle prizes at the end of the evening, the two of them knew that she a much bigger role to play.
In fact she was going to be the star of the show, in a very memorable finale!

However, her appearance was still a couple of hours away and although Vince had provided her with a very nice dressing room and stocked it with lots of nice things to eat and drink, she decided to hide backstage and watch the show from the wings.

--------------------------------------------

The audience all arrived in good time.
Noisy men in dinner jackets, laughing, shaking hands and buying rounds of drinks before finding their tables.

Vince took the microphone to quieten them and welcome them to the club.

"Good evening gentlemen. It's wonderful to see you all here. I'm know that we're all going have a great evening and I'm sure that you all understand that this is a adult only show.
We'll be having none of that political correctness nonsense here tonight, so..."
He raised his voice
"Whatever happens at the Sportsman's Evening,"
He put his hand to his ear and audience joined in chanting, "Stays at the Sportman's Evening."

"Ok, if that's all understood, it gives me great pleasure to introduce, your compare for the evening, Miss Orla Bord!"

Orla entered the stage to wolf whistles and applause. "She" was a drag queen, replete with a huge blue wig, very heavy make up, a sparkling green dress and extremely high heels.

"Good evening fellas.
Don't you all look lovely in your bow ties - I've never seen so many dickies!"
It was a smutty joke and it got a big laugh - the show had truly begun.
She continued with her script

"I do love it here in Roddport - well to tell you the truth I love it anywhere!" (more laughter), "but it is great to be by the sea again. I bet you all love the sea too, don't you?
How many of you have got boats out there?"

A dozen or so hands were raised and a few chaps shouted out.

Orla gave a camp "Ooo, well, Hallo sailor!" in reply.
It was a hackneyed line but it always got a laugh.

"I've always been fond of sailors - they don't call me Orla Bord for nothing!"
The laughs were coming easily now.

"I'm always tour the docks trying to pick up a few. I like the stupid ones the most.
There's nothing I like better than a nice load of thick seamen!"

She had the "fellas" in the palm of her hand now, but adopted a more serious tone.

"Now then chaps, I'm afraid I've got some very bad news for you.
We had a devine first act all lined up for you.
The most wonderful stripper
She kept telling me she was coming.
Over and over.
"I'm coming Orla. I'm coming. I'm coming!"
But then she pulled out and now I've just got a big hole that needs filling!"

That got the reaction she'd been hoping for.

"Maybe the seamen could fill it..."

"Oh you filthy buggers!"
She shouted over the boys' dirty laughter.
"I'm just looking for someone to fill the gap in tonight's schedule.
Anybody?"

"What about Dee?" came a cry from the back of the hall.

"What was that dearie?" Orla enquired.

The spotlight shifted across the floor and picked out, Reg, the barman.

"What about my barmaid, Dee?
I mean there aren't any other girls in the room are there?"

"Oooh, I suppose we could ask her.
Where are you love?"
The spotlight scanned across and picked her out.
"Hiya Dee... oh... don't you look pretty in that er... tabard?"

"It's not a tabard, it's an apron.
I'm rinsing the glasses."

"Well why don't you let the lovely Reg do the rinsing while you come up on stage and give us a turn?"

"I can't I've got a boyfriend."

"We've all got boyfriends love - there's no need to brag about it.
What's you fella's name?"

"Shane."

"And what's he up to tonight?"

"It's his darts night."

"What?
He's sent you out to work all night while he's down the pub getting pissed with his mates?
Who does he think he is?
Your pimp?
Well sod him!
He won't know anyway will he, because the fellas have all promised - whatever happens here stays here."

"Oooh, I don't know." Dee pulled a face - at least she hadn't refused out of hand. "I haven't got my best undies on."

"Well I don't think you need to worry about that, does she lads?"

"No, and remember it is all for the poor little orphans.
We need to raise lots of money so all the little boys and girls can reach out of their bed on Christmas morning and grab a big, fat, stiff stocking full of goodies.
But if we haven't got a stripper then I'll have to give all these lads a refund and the kids will wake up to a flabby and flaccid disappointment.
We don't want that do we?"

"No of course not," Dee agreed!
"And yeah, it serves Shane right - selfish bastard!"

The lads applauded her to the stage and the DJ started the music.

All eyes were on Dee but she stared back nervously.
She knew she was a good dancer, but in that moment she moved stiffly - shuffling her feet a few inches left and right.
She was awkward and clumsy and tripped in her high heels.
She might as well take them off!

She continued to sway in time with the song. Ironically it was Tina Turner's "Simply the Best", but Dee obviously wasn't.

She began to fiddle with the knot of her apron, loosening it and then daring herself to slip it off.

The boys were enraptured, despite her amateurish performance and they were encouraged to see that she seemed to have quite a good figure, after all.

She still wasn't showing them much of it though and she was in no rush either, taking her time to let down her red hair and curl it around her fingers

Obviously the crowd was beginning to get frustrated, but they could see that Dee was running out of options - she couldn't stall for much longer - she'd have to start "getting 'em off" soon.

And they weren't wrong.
Her hands went to the buttons of her silky cream coloured blouse.
She began to open them, slowly, self consciously, one by one, starting at the bottom and working upwards.
She had revealed her flat stomach and was tentatively fingering the final fastening that was straining between the swell of her breasts, about to give the audience their first glimpse of her "assets" when she turned her back, shyly.

But she hadn't "chickened out completely.
She did unbutton.
She did slip the blouse off her shoulders and she did allow it to fall to the floor, leaving her with nothing but her bra, above the waist.

Then she began to move with more confidence, more fluency, more sensuality.
Still with her back to them she ran her hands through her hair, rotating her hips, flaunting her figure.
Dancing and teasing.
Almost like a real stripper...

She slid her right hand down to her skirt, skillfully unhooking it and wiggling it down to her ankles.
All eyes went to her arse.
Dee wasn't trying to hide it.
The boys were in for a surprise.
She was wearing nothing but the tiniest throng with the skimpiest string of satin disappearing up her butt crack.
She stroked her full, firm, smooth cheeks, then slapped them giving them a jauntily jiggle.

This girl did know what she doing, after all!

She turned to face her audience head on.
She was smiling broadly.
She wasn't pretending to be embarrassed any more.
She was proud, confident and unashamed.
She was a real stripper and she was going to give them a show!

She shimmied her chest making her boobs shake inside her silver sequined brassiere.
She was a well titted lass with a deep cleavage and surprisingly large breasts that looked as though they might be about to overtop her bra.

And the way that Dee was dancing suggested that they might do exactly that.
Cavorting crazily across the stage.
Giving it her all.
Bum and boobs bouncing before the boys' bulging eyes.

And then, without any warning or build-up the bra was off!
Two tremendous twin titties bounced free, displayed in all their glory.
Well almost...
Dee was wearing pasties.
One over each nipple, with long silver tassels.

She knew how to work them.
She put her arms out wide, shaking her torso.
Tossing her tits and twirling her tassels in the best tradition of a burlesque dancer.

The boys couldn't believe what they were seeing as Dee dazzled them with her daring display.
It had been a great start to the evening and she wasn't quite finished yet.

Dee continued to jiggle and twirl.
She turned to show them her bum once more. Her cheeks were shaking with as much speed and abandon as her boobs.
She brought her hands to her hips then turned to give her audience a wink.
That was all the time she needed to whip the thong off and drape it over her shoulder.
Her show was done.
She left the stage to rapturous applause.

"Yeah, let's hear it for the wonderful Miss Dee Dee Lishous!" Orla shouted.
"I can see you all enjoyed that.
Those boys on the front row have all given her a standing ovation, even though they're still sitting down!
Dirty buggers!
Anyway, you can all see more of her later, because she's going to be helping Reg behind the bar.
Lucky man.
He's never had a topless barmaid before!"

The lads were all delighted with that news, but their compare urged them to stay in their seats and "enjoy the wit and humour" of their comedian, Roger Daly.

He arrived on stage looking as though he had been transported directly from the 1970's. Wearing a black suit, black bowtie and a frilly white shirt that was de rigueur back in the day.
It came as no surprise that his material had a similar vintage.

"Good evening gentlemen!"
He shouted at the top of his voice.
"Oh bloody hell what's this?" He pretended to trip up.
"Erm, it looks like lost property."
He held it up, letting everyone see that it was a bra.
"Let's see if there's a name in it.
Oh yes... it says, er D D!"

He got his first laugh and pressed on in a similar vein.
"Hey, what a great girl.
You should sign her up for the team Vince.
With twin strikers like that you'd be top of league in no time!"

And their were still more dirty jokes to come as he told the guys, "I can't wait to see her behind the bar - she can pull my pint anytime!"

It might not have been the wit of Oscar Wilde, but Roger knew his audience and his combination of smut and misogyny had them rolling in the aisles until the half time interval when their was a stampede to the bar.

The chaps only resumed their seats when they heard that dinner was about to be served.
The food promised to be excellent, with a choice of chicken or steak and there was an extra treat for those at the "top table", as Dee stepped out from behind the bar to become their topless waitress - she was a busy girl!

-----------------------------------
Once the meal was cleared away, Vince called for order and introduced the guest of honour, their after dinner speaker, a "great personal friend and a hero of their 1994 promotion chasing team, Mr Harry "Hardman" Mansfield."
He was welcomed by polite applause, as the audience prepared to hear what he had to say.

"Well lads, it's great to be back here in Roddport and I think it's only right that I start by congratulating the chef on an excellent meal."
He paused until the customary round of applause subsided.
"I don't think I've ever seen such a tasty looking bit of breast and the rump was smashing too... and that was just the waitress!"
And so the smut continued as he recounted the tales he had told at so many of these events.
Some of his stories would be true, some exaggerated, some completely made up, but all boasting about his sporting and manly triumphs. Explaining that he was as much of a "hardman" with the ladies as he was on the football field and creating a narrative that he was only denied international honours due to his maverick personality.
However he claimed that he "wouldn't have changed a thing," which was hard to believe, when his peers were earning millions as TV pundits, while he was talking to boozy blokes in faded halls for a couple of hundred quid, plus dinner and expenses.

Bianca listened in the wings for a few minutes, before deciding that she wasn't really interested in his self serving speech and it was time for her to prepare for her own appearance.
She clambered into the huge cardboard Christmas cake, hidden behind the stage curtains and made herself comfortable.

She felt like she would be waiting there all night, but eventually Harry exhausted his repertoire of dubious tales and his "old friend" Vince shook him warmly by the hand, congratulating him on a job well done.

"But now," he told his audience it was, "time to move on to most important part of the evening", the real reason they were all there - "charity."

(Most of the lads had forgotten!)

"Yes gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to announce that tonight's charity raffle has raised over £2000 for the local orphanage, so I'm sure we can give all their unfortunate boys and girls a very Merry Christmas"

The DJ began to play 'Slade's' iconic Christmas anthem and the curtains opened to reveal the Christmas cake, sitting centre stage.

"So now all we have to do is to draw the winners and present the prizes!
And to help us with that, I am pleased to present one of the lovely ladies of the Any Time Any Place Anywhere Agency!"

*BOOM*

There was a stage explosion and Bianca burst dramatically through the top of the cake!
Grinning and posing for the lads, in a red & white Roddport Town shirt tied below her tits, and matching pair of bikini briefs.

She received a very warm welcome!

Eventually Vince managed to quieten the crowds and invited the glamorous girl to draw the ticket for third prize.

"265!" he announced.
The lads all checked their tickets.
There were a great many moans of disappointment, a few hard luck tales and one, "Oh hell! It's me!"

A tall broad man stood up and made his way to the stage.
It was "Mac", their popular reserve goalkeeper.
Vince shook his hand, and Bianca gave him a peck on the cheek.
But Mac stood there awkwardly - what was the prize?

Bianca stepped up to the microphone, "Well guys... the third prize is... my tits!!"
She whipped off her top and turned to lucky winner, presenting him with two beautiful, bouncy, bare boobs.

"Oh my God!"
Mac wasn't expecting that and instinctively grabbed one in each of his hands.

"Careful you don't drop 'em!", shouted someone from the audience.

He replied that there was "No chance of that!"

Bianca was enjoying the feel of his big goalie's hands and whispered that he could squeeze them - if he liked...

He certainly did and when she invited him to kiss them and did that too.

Bianca squealed like it was the best thing ever and whispered into his ear again.

"Really?"
He asked in surprise.

"Yeah, you've won 'em.
You can fuck 'em if you want to..."
She reached for his trousers and started to unbutton them.

Mac had no choice, "what the hell"?
Most of lads in the hall were teammates that he regularly shared the showers with, so he had no reason to be shy and it wasn't every day that a sexy well stacked little saucepot offered him a tit - wank.

She had his cock out in an instant and smiled at the audience as she fell to her knees and stroked its length.
Mac gasped at her touch and closed his eyes, arching his back as she slotted it up between her breasts, she squeezed them around it's girth and trapped it between them.

"Oh... fuck!"
Mac didn't know what else to say, he just stood there and enjoyed the experience as Bianca went to work.
Holding him tightly between her tits, molding them tightly around his rod and rubbing, rhythmically.
Up and down in merciless,
tender torture, tickling his balls, for good measure.

Mac held on for as long as he could - it would be embarrassing to cum too quickly in front of his friends, but he was in hands of a professional.

Bianca looked down into the tight valley of her cleavage.
She spat.
Gently, releasing a string of saliva that hung in the air and slowly grew until it reached the bulging cockhead, bathing it with her lewd lubrication.
Heightening the sensitivity of his stiff slippery, snake and speeding it towards its ultimate surrender.

She increased the pace and intensity of her intimate massage until his resistance was broken and Bianca was "rewarded" with a creamy fountain splattering over her chest and her chin.

The lads couldn't believe their eyes.
It was a shamelessly sexy show and that was only the third prize!

-----------------------------

Second prize went to Byrom, their hot young striker and he couldn't get to the stage quickly enough when his ticket number was called.

"And what has young Byrom won?" asked Vince.

Bianca took a moment to reply, seductively dipping a finger into the pool of spunk that was oozing down her chest and sucking it clean, before licking her lips and announcing,
"My mouth of course - fancy a blowjob young man."

Byrom punched the air as though he had scored a goal, "Fuck yeah!"

He was clearly excited but the girl stayed cool.
She put her hands on his shoulders and slowly slid down his body until she was on her knees and her head was level with his crotch.

He grabbed at his belt, but Bianca stayed his hand.
"Now now, calm down there's no rush, you'll rip your pants of you're not careful." She patted the bulge in his tented trousers, mocking his enthusiasm.

She was going to do the work herself and she made a show of unhurriedly unbuckling the belt, sliding it, deliberately, through every single loop and throwing to the floor before even starting to undo the trousers.
She tantalised him.
Releasing one button at a time.
Inching the zipper down bit by bit.
Then dragging the trousers down to his knees and gasping at the size of the bulge in his boxer shorts.

Then she ignored his cock completely and ran her hands over his tight arse.
"Ooo I can tell you've been doing your squats."
She hooked her fingers over the waistband and worked them around to the front, before stretching his underwear in an exaggerated manner to pull it over his long, stiff dick.
"Oh God, that's going to be a mouthful!"

With his boxers out of the way, she took his cock in both hands and pulled it too her lips to give it a little kiss.

"Shit!!"
Byrom almost came on the spot, but Bianca had barely started.
She slathered her way down his shaft, giving it a foretaste of the pleasures to come, then opened her mouth wide and swallowed him whole!

She was showing off.
There was no need to deep throat him, but she wanted every man in the room to know that she could.
She wanted every man in the room to want her.
(It was good for business!)

She continued with her blow job, taking him more shallowly.
Gripping his girth between her lips.
Teasing him with her talented tongue.
And hollowing her cheeks as she sucked him towards submission.

Now Byrom was a young, fit athlete, capable for running and sprinting for the whole 90 minutes of a football match, but he didn't have the stamina to resist Bianca's expert technique.

Her head got faster.
Her lips got tighter.
Her sucks got harder.

He came quickly.

Jetting hot, thick, virile, youthful sperm into her mouth.
She swallowed it all like the pro she was, then opened her mouth to prove that she'd taken every drop.

She had proven that she was a top girl.
Whatever would the 1st prize be?

------------------------

The hall fell silent as Bianca closed her eyes and drew out the final ticket, "And the winner is," she paused to build the tension, "442!!!"

There was a "Whoop!" from one of the tables at the back, followed by a squabble.

"You have it."

"No you have it, you bought it."

"No, I'm too old... "

"Don't be silly. Go get your prize!"

The argument came to an end when a chant broke out, "Socks! Socks! Socks!"

The chap who'd bought the ticket had no option but to make his way to the stage and accept the reward that he thought he was too old to appreciate.
He was obviously embarrassed by the chants and congratulations of the crowd, but Bianca tried to put him at ease and take it all in her stride.

"Yay! You're the winner!
Well done!
Tell me," she asked quietly, "What was that chant all about."

"Socks? It's just a nickname."

"Really?
Why?"

"I used to be the kit man. I was always finding odd socks the lads had left l in the dressing room."

"Oh, so you used to look after all the players' kit and keep it clean and smart?"

He nodded.

"Oh shit, and I just threw my Roddport shirt on the floor!
Sorry."

"Yeah, you'd get a fine for that... but I think I'll let you off tonight."

She giggled, "Well I've got something better than that for you because you've won the star prize," she turned to climb the steps back into the cake.
She stopped for a moment to reach down to her hip and untie the strings of her bikini briefs.
"My pussy!!" she declared, much to the delight of the horny audience.

She tossed the briefs away giving the lads a quick flash of her bum (and maybe a glimpse of a little more) before climbing into the cake and beckoning Socks to join her.

He had no choice, he climbed in after her and stepped down to join her, out of sight of the audience.

"Take your trousers off." She whispered.

"What?"

"Don't worry.
It's just a joke.
Throw them out, so everyone thinks we're shagging."

"Oh, okay!" he got the joke and played along.
He got a cheer and a few wolf whistles.

It was the cue for the stage hand to close the curtains and for Vince to close the show.

"Well gentleman, what a wonderful evening's entertainment we've had.
I'm sure you'd all like to show your thanks and appreciation for your wonderful compare, Miss Orla Bord.
Our surprise stripper, Miss Dee Dee Lishous.
The hilarious Roger Daly.
Our special guest "Hardman" Harry.
And last, but by no means least, the bold and beautiful Bianca - the girl in the cake!"

That was it.
The show was over.
And Socks turned to make his way out of the cake.

"Hey, where are you going?
You haven't had your prize yet."

"What?
You're joking aren't you?
You can't seriously mean..."

"Of course I do.
Mac got my tits, Byrom got my mouth and you won my pussy.
You do want it, don't you?
There's nothing wrong with it is there?"
She looked down at her crotch quizzically.

Socks looked at it too.
He really looked at it, for the first time.
"No Miss, of course not, although I have to say I've never seen one like that before."

"What?"
It was Bianca's turn to be confused.

He chuckled, "All the ones I used to see were covered in hair. Girls only shaved their legs back in my day."

"Oh," she spread her legs, "I always keep mine tidy. The boys like to smooth. Give it a stroke, see what you think."

"Oh yes, that feels nice."

Bianca took his hand and pressed it against her twat, "And it's hot and wet," she pushed his fingers inside her, "And it's yours if you want it."
She pressed her other hand against the bulge in his underpants.

"Oh fuck.
I don't know, I'm 62 years old.
I only bought a ticket to support the charity.
It was only a pound, for heaven's sake.
I wasn't expecting this."

She stroked the bulge, " Well you don't feel too old to me.
You feel like a winner.
You deserve it."

She sat on the floor.
Naked.
Legs spread.
Looking up at the man.
Her eyes imploring him to join her.
"Come on, you'll love it, I promise."

Socks was never going to get that kind of an opportunity again.
He slipped off his pants and sat opposite her.
They were cramped for space.
He slid his legs beneath Bianca's knees and they shuffled towards eachother.
He reached for her breast.
"May I?

"Of course."
Bianca arched her back, offering him her tits and inviting him to do as he pleased.
He squeezed and caressed her fullsome delights - she really was a game and gorgeous girl.
And she wasn't holding back.
She took hold of his cock.
"Give it to me." she asked in a whisper.

He didn't argue this time, why would he?
It had been a while since he'd had a wet and willing wrench between his thighs.
He pushed his hips forward and sighed in delight as he entered her hairless haven.
It was just as warm and wet and wanton as she had promised and he loved, it just like she had told him he would.

He was an older man, so it wasn't a hasty "warm bam thank you ma'am" type of fucking.

He rocked into her gently, patiently. Savouring the moment with growing confidence and vigour as she massaged the cock inside her.

They fucked with a breathless yearning. Unhurried but each eager to satisfy the other and give them all the pleasure they could.

Socks didn't manage to give Bianca an orgasm, but she made sure that he thought he had - faking it beautifully as she milked every drop of the senior spunk spurting from his throbbing cock until it filled her fanny and slithered down between her legs towards the curve of her arse.

He told her that "she had made an old man very happy."
It was the finest £1 he had ever spent

--------------------------------------

The hall was almost silent when Bianca returned to her dressing room.
She checked her hair and makeup in the mirror and set about cleaning away the dry and crusting spunk splattered over her body.

She was taken by surprise when she heard someone knock at the door.
They just gave single tap before they burst in, without waiting to be invited.

It was Vince.
"Oh sorry," (he was slightly pissed), "I didn't know you were... I thought you were..."

She was still naked but he made no attempt to look away and Bianca made no attempt to cover herself.
"What do you want?" she snapped (she was very pissed!).

"Oh I, er thought you might like theesh," he slurred, handing her a pair of season tickets.
"You're welcome any shtime."

"Can I bring a friend?"

"Of course, eshpecailly if she's as pretty ash you. We'll get a private box - you can alwaysh have fun in a private box."

"I'll bring Iris then. I think you know her."

"Iris?
I don't think I know any Irishes.
Oh, (hic)" maybe he did know her after all, "Did I sell her a sporty little motor last year?"

"No, Grandma Iris, doesn't drive, but she was at school with you.
She always wondered what happened to the smelly, chubby little lad that was always trying to look up all the girls' skirts.
I'll tell her you haven't changed a bit."
She gave him a withering look and opened the door for him to leave.

She was giggling when she turned back to the mirror.
She hadn't even a Grandma Iris, but she thought Vince had got the message.
He was too old for her.
She didn't fancy him.
And the only way he was ever going to get into her "private box" was if he paid the Agency like anybody else - unless, of course, he was lucky enough to win the raffle!

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Comments (2)

  • BiBoy: This is so much fun, Mr. Rodd! I'd love to have been there on this special club night. It's great when grown men get together and end up acting like horny schoolboys! Your writing is superb. When you read a sentence like, ' Bum and boobs bouncing before the boys' bulging eyes', you know you're reading something special!!

    Reply↴ • uid:8n9x2i3m9i
    • Mr Rodd: Thanks. Not everyone will like my alliteration, but it amuses me and I think it's more arousing than saying, "the boys enjoyed Dee's sexy dance".

      • uid:1ah742a8hrd