Le Cirque du Sexe
Max and Martine left the hotel in the Bastille and headed for the Metro. Max clutched the copy of Pariscope they had bought earlier to check out some things to do. Coming across a page devoted to real live sex acts Max had asked Martine if she were interested.
“Yeah, why not,” she had said. "Something different.”
Neither of them had been to a show like that before and they were tired of the cultural trail, Notre Dame, the Louvre, Montmartre and Sacre Coeur, les Bateaux Mouche. Yep, they’d done that to death.
“Too much bloody culture, if you ask me,” Max had commented. Martine found it hard to disagree.
From the Bastille they rode the Metro along to Madeleine and then changed and headed north (they thought it was north, anyway) towards Pigalle, getting off a stop earlier at Saint-Georges. They’d seen Pigalle before, too, in all its seedy glory. The brash lights, the sex shops and strip clubs. The transvestite hookers. Or were they trans-sexuals? Even the Moulin Rouge looked a bit desperate in its attempts to attract.
Leaving the station they headed up Rue Pierre Fontaine and then took a left onto Rue la Bruyere. After Rue Jean-Baptiste Pigalle they turned right into Rue Henner. Even if it wasn’t that far from Pigalle it seemed an unlikely street to house a real live sex show. Max and Martine looked at each other doubtfully. Surely not, their eyes said. Up ahead, though, they could make out a faint neon glow.
“A drink first?” Max suggested. He was feeling a bit apprehensive.
“I should think so,” Maxine replied, to his relief.
They entered the corner bar and ordered a couple of beers.
“Deux demi seize, s’il vous plais,” Max asked the waiter in his English accented French. They had learned not to order at the bar and then go and sit down as they would have done in England. It had taken them a while to understand the glares of the waiters when they did that, but finally it had sunk in. If you ordered at the bar you stayed at the bar. If you sat down to order the waiter got his tip. They sat and waited for their drinks to be brought over and talked about what might lie ahead as they drank. Max looked at his watch. It was nearly eight o’clock.
“You ready for this then?” Max asked Martine when they had finished.
“If I’m not now, I never will be,” she responded.
They finished off their drinks and Max looked at the till receipt. Eighty francs? Where the fuck were they? On top of the Eiffel Tower? He begrudgingly counted out the money and was thankful to have enough change so they didn’t have to go through that whole rigmarole of trying to catch the waiter’s eye then waiting for him to grace their presence before waiting again while he dawdled over to the barman for a chat before the barman dawdled to the till before dawdling back ….. just hurry the fuck up, will you? You think we’ve got all day?
Leaving a one franc tip they headed for the door. They heard the waiter muttering something after them as they exited. Something along the lines of shitty English whore, if Max wasn’t mistaken. Whatever had happened to entente cordiale, he wondered?
Outside they laughed about it nervously as they headed up the street towards the faint glimmering ahead. The entrance seemed very subdued. A small neon sign declaring ‘Le Cirque du Sexe’ hung above a display case either side of the door. Inside the cases, pictures of the ‘cast’. All very discrete. None of the brashness and garish boasting of the venues just up the road. Some breasts but no full nudity.
They stepped into the blue velvet interior. A blonde woman with too much make-up sat behind the counter of the small entrance.
“Zee show starts in two minutes,” she informed them. God knows how she knew they were English. Was it that obvious? Apparently so. At least that they were not French anyway. Max quickly paid the four hundred francs requested and they made their way into the gloomy interior. It took a while for their eyes to adjust to the dimness but when they did they found themselves in a larger space than they might have thought from the outside. Maybe ten rows of seats spread to either side of them forming a semicircle around the stage. Well, to say a stage might be an exaggeration. Maybe ten rows of seats spread out to either side of them to form a semicircle around the platform down below. In the darkness they stumbled their way into a seats about five rows back. As they grew more accustomed they began to make out the shadowy figures around them. Some couples. Mostly men on their own. Not one single female. It was about half full, Max gauged as he relaxed into his seat. Martine had gone first and had only just spotted a man in the row and stopped to sit down leaving a vacant seat between them. She clung to Maxes arm and he put his hand on her arm to re-assure her.
Almost immediately music started up and the red curtains at the back of the room parted and two women appeared. They were naked but for G-strings. One was small, petite, shall we say? Seeing as we’re in France. One was petite, about five-three or four. She had a pixie-ish quality to her. Short hair, a slim body, small, pert breasts. Narrow hips. The other was considerably taller. Maybe five eight or nine. Curvy. Broad shoulders, big tits, narrow waist, wide hips. Amazonian, almost. The show began.
Pixie and Amazon danced around each other getting closer and closer until they were holding themselves close. They kissed and began to caress each other as they continued to dance then Pixie slowly slid down Amazon’s G-string to reveal her shaven pubis. As she rose she kissed and fondled the taller girl’s breasts and all the time they turned to ensure that everyone could see what was happening. Then it was Amazon’s turn to reveal Pixie’s nakedness. Having accomplished that they lay back together on a stain covered couch. Pixie reached to the side and pulled out a vibrator which she deftly turned on and applied to Amazons upper body, her breasts and her stomach before guiding it between her legs. Amazon parted her legs to show the audience her pussy as the vibrator toyed around her lips then slid inside her. She writhed a little and then took it in her own hand to pleasure herself as Pixie kissed her breasts and stoked at her inner thighs. Amazon then sat up and pushed Pixie back and applied the toy to her. Gliding it over her body she eased Pixies legs apart and she lifted them up in the air and spread them wide. There was no doubting that everyone could see alright. With her legs held straight and far apart the vibro was thrust into her with a sudden plunge. She let out a gasp and began to writhe around as Amazon manipulated it inside her. Then they were on their feet and taking a bow. Nobody clapped
Max was aware of his cock. It wasn’t hard but he could feel it. It hurt. He hadn’t felt anything quite like it. Martine could sense her pussy too. It was like all of her centred on that one small part of her body at that moment. She stretched her arm over Max and squeezed him. She was surprised to feel his dick wasn’t rigid. In response Max slid his hand up Martine’s skirt and began to stroke the inside of her thigh. He inched closer to her pussy but she, aware of the man sitting to her left, squeezed her legs together to stop him gaining access.
Back down on the stage (oh, let’s be generous, why not?), Amazon and Pixie had revealed a two ended dildo and were busy arranging themselves into a suitable position on the floor. Inserting it into themselves they began to ride it back and forth, their heads held back in apparent abandon. Their pussies got closer and closer together before once again, they were back on their feet and bowing. Again, nobody clapped.
Pixie then strode purposefully into the audience leaving Amazon alone. Selecting a single man she sat on his lap and began to gyrate. Standing, she felt at his groin before turning and smiling a thumbs up to indicate the erection she had given him. She moved on to another and repeated the trick. Assured that his cock was hard she moved away and approached a couple. The woman pushed her away. Non, non, non. Not with my man. Max wondered what would happen if Pixie came his way. How would Martine react? Would she allow it? Meanwhile Martine was wondering exactly the same thing. They never got a chance to find out. Pixie was back on the stage. She and Amazon stood on either side of the stage with one arm each held aloft as a man entered through the curtain.
The sight of him made max and Martine laugh. He had a gold lame cloak fastened around his neck with a gold chain. The cloak reached down to the floor and then some. He wasn’t the tallest of men. It wasn’t that that made them laugh though. It was the erection that poked through the cloak and preceded him as he strode around the stage with his arms aloft.
It wasn’t a big cock, Max registered. No bigger than his, anyway. Sort of average sized. Its owner wasn’t short of confidence though. He stopped in the middle of the stage and pulled aside the cloak to reveal it in its splendour. Martine felt a little disappointed, but only a little. It wasn’t that big but it did look good and hard and straight. Altogether, though, he looked faintly ridiculous, she thought.
Removing the cloak altogether the man twirled it around his arm before throwing it to one side. It caught on his hand and fell to the floor a little way a way and that added to the air of absurdity. A few titters were heard around the audience. Unperturbed the man continued with his arrogant striding as Pixie quickly moved forward to remove the offending article. Cleared of this obstruction the show began as both girls moved forward to snuggle up close to him. Him? Him? Let’s give him
a name. Puck. Why not? He had a puckish air about him.
Clinging to him they pointed in mock prudishness at his erection daring each other to touch and shaking their heads ‘no’ before Pixie finally plucked up the courage. Once she’d touched it she couldn’t get enough and began to stroke at it harder and harder before sinking to her knees and taking it full length in her mouth. Amazon looked on in apparent envy at Pixies outrageous actions and stalked the stage before launching herself at the couple and pushing Pixie away and taking her place. Pixie, of course was having none of that. As Amazon sucked at Puck’s cock she went up behind her and yanked at her hair forcing her head back away from him. A full blown fight ensued which had to be broken up by the hero who assured them with his gestures that there was enough to go around. The girls looked uncertain but allowed themselves to be taken over to the couch. Positioning Amazon with her legs spread wide Puck entered her from behind. Pixie looked on in envy as he moved his cock in and out of her enemy until Puck motioned her over and signalled for her to hold his cock, which she did with a mixture of mock horror and lust.
What had started as being unintentionally funny was turning into acceptable farce and both Max and Martine were beginning to enjoy both the absurdity and the horniness of the show. If Pixie had had her cheeks painted red and pig-tails she would have looked like a naked Gretel. Only older, of course.
Now it was Pixies turn to feel the power of the cock-meister. Withdrawing from Amazon he turned her and pushed her onto the couch. Pixie was ordered to kneel down before her and promptly thrust her head between Amazons thighs. Puck knelt down behind her and thrust his cock into her. Pixie raised her head in mock shock and appreciation before burying her head again to lick at Amazons pussy as Puck pounded at her. Several combinations of distorted and twisted limbs followed, much to the audience’s appreciation. Or so it would seem from the applause when the act apparently reached its climax. There was no shooting of sperm to indicate the end as such. The threesome just stopped and took a bow.
Max and Martine clapped along with the others. They both felt a little disappointed even if Max’s cock was throbbing and Martine could feel the wetness of her pussy. Just as well the show wasn’t over yet then, eh?
Puck and Amazon left the stage and climbed the stairs between the rows of seats. Up past Max and Martine they went before stopping and shuffling along the opposite row. They had to turn to see what happened next as Puck lay Amazon back on the lap of a punter and proceeded to bang her. Next they went to the couple that Pixie had approached earlier. Again they were rebutted. Without breaking their stride they came back down the steps and turned into the row where Max and Martine were sitting. Max felt unsure as Amazon was laid on her back on his lap. He turned to Martine for re-assurance. Seeing no signs of objection he allowed the action to continue.
Amazon felt a lot lighter on him than he would have expected her to. Her back pressed against his now hard cock as Puck leaned over and entered her. Having a girl fucked on his lap was definitely a first for Max. It felt like every nerve in his body was centred on his pulsating manhood. Being the opportunist that he was, he couldn’t resist putting his hand between their torsos and reaching down to feel Amazons pussy. Then he squeezed Pucks cock. He was amazed at how soft yet how hard it felt. This wasn’t supposed to happen though. Amazon stiffened and tried to raise herself only to be eased back by a re-assuring Puck. Little did Max know, nor Amazon, for that matter, that as he leaned over them Puck had slid his hand between Martine’s thighs and was now busy fingering her wet and juicy vagina.
Martine was surprised at how adroitly Puck had managed to enter her knickers. One second she was turned towards Max and watching his enjoyment, the next she felt a slight pressure on her crotch as Pucks fingers slid inside her. She was almost paralysed with excitement. She couldn’t do anything to stop it. Neither did she want to. Not only that, he guy sitting two seats away had now got his cock out and was furiously masturbating and signalling for her to hold his dick. Then, as suddenly as it had started it had stopped. Amazon was lifted from Max’s knees and she and Puck made their way back down to the stage. They linked arms with Pixie and took a long, low bow and were gone.
Almost immediately the house lights came on and Max and Martine sat in blinkered silence. Neither of them could move. It wasn’t until the man further along the row indicated his impatience to be gone that they could muster the will to stand up. The man pushed hastily past them.
“I wonder what his problem is?” Max asked Martine. She guessed she knew but she wasn’t saying.
Outside in the street Max felt so charged with sexual feeling it was all he could do to not take Martine right then and there. Martine was feeling the same way and without speaking a word they quickly made their way back towards Saint-George. They both knew where they were going now, and what they were going to do. Max’s cock still felt like it was the centre of the universe and Martine needed some hard cock inside her to satisfy her lusting.
“You know when they were shagging on your lap?” she asked Max.
“Well, I don’t know how to put this but the guy put his hand up my skirt and fingered me.”
Max was filled with an instant feeling of horror, jealousy and overwhelming desire. He wanted to fuck her so hard at that moment.
“Didn’t you try to stop him?” he asked.
“It all happened so fast,” Martine informed him. I didn’t know it was happening until it did.”
Max found that hard to believe. How could a guy put his hand up your skirt, move your knickers to one side and push his fingers into your pussy without you realising it was happening? At that moment though, he didn’t give a fuck. All he wanted was to get back to the hotel room and get his cock into her, himself.
And that’s what happened. No sooner had they entered the room than they had stripped each other off. Martine had gone down on him immediately and Max stood their willing himself not to come too soon. He didn’t. Manoeuvring Martine onto the bed he had got her on all fours and banged the hell out of her. After Martine had shrieked her orgasm Max had fired a bucket load of cum all over her. Then they did it again. And again. And again. And again. Finally they collapsed in a mangled heap and slept.
Max and Martine looked a sorry sight as they made their sorry way to Gard du Nord the next morning. Max’s cock was so sore from all that banging he could hardly walk. Martine was no better. Her pussy felt red raw. Anyone would have thought that they’d been in an accident. That or they’d stayed up all night fucking so hard they could barely move.
“You know what you said about that guy having his fingers in your pussy?” he asked Martine.
“Yeah?” she asked back.
“Well, would you have let him fuck you? You know? Right there and then? If he’d led you to the stage would you have let him stick his cock inside you?”
“Oh, that,” she answered guardedly. She didn’t like where this was going. “You know, Max, I just made it up.”
“Yep, I just made it up,” she lied. “I thought it might turn you on. Not that you needed any more turning on, I suppose.”
“So you just made it up?”
“Mind you the guy next to me got his cock out and I just couldn’t help giving him a wank.”
Martine started to laugh.
“You shit,” was all Max could say and he laughed, too, as his cock reminded him once again of how far they’d got to travel that day.
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