Bestowal - Sex Stories

Bestowal

... wearing panties or not, then a string is seen above the crack, only two or three shades darker than her smooth skin. She stands facing away from me, then bends forward and simultaneously throws the fabric to the side, allowing me to see between her legs, the vagina hidden only by a small patch of cloth. Quickly she stands and pulls the shirt wide open, revealing to me and the other men those perfect, conic breasts. A catcall comes from someone, 'take it off,' and Christie obliges, throwing the shirt over her shoulder, and parading around the dance floor topless, her mound covered only by the slightest of g-strings. As the song winds to a close, she winks and blows me a kiss, and rambles back through the curtain to the dressing room. The crowd is silent, mesmerized by the beauty, and the pause is broken by the DJ spouting, "Let's hear it for Christie!" The applause and screams from the gallery is almost deafening, far outstripping the small crowd. Christie pokes her head out from the curtain to see the commotion, and the DJ, seizing the opportunity, quickly starts another song. Christie ducks back in, but now the call goes up: "More, more!!!" Not to disappoint her audience, Christie soon emerges, the white dress shirt left behind, and stands proudly, the points of her breasts hardened, acknowledging the cheers. As the music rises, she once more begins to gyrate, moving across the stage, and men reach across with green paper to stuff into her g-string, but she avoids them, ...

... not wishing to be touched. Moments later, she traipses back into the dressing ground, leaving the room stunned. After the crowd begins to quiet, the DJ announces the next professional, and I feel bad for her; she is almost forgotten in the hubbub. Strangers come over to me and congratulate me for having such a great girl friend, and when I try to explain our relationship, they fail to understand. Soon Christie joins me, fully dressed now, and the men try to talk to her, buy her a drink, but she refuses and says to me, "Let's get out of here." I follow her to the car, and I can tell she is still high from the experience. "Did you see me, Derek? It was great!" We drive back to the island, talking about the experience. She wants to know what I saw, to tell me about what it felt like. After we enter the apartment, she drags me to the couch and sits facing me. "Okay, it's time to pay off." "What do you mean?" I ask, innocently, knowing full well what she wants. "You weren't naked up there tonight -- you had that g-string on." "Oh, yeah? Well what about last night? Are you going to claim I had earrings on or something?" "I never got to see the good part," I complain. "Jake's head was right where I wanted to see." She ponders this for a moment, then apparently decides not to make an issue of it. "Okay," she agrees, then stands and quickly pulls her blouse over her head and drops the shorts to the rug. All that's covering her most private parts is a frilly bra and a miniscule thong as ...