Car Show Slut Ch. 07

Call it vanity, call it the effects of alcohol. Because I had had quite a bit to drink, and here I was downing another glass of wine. It was a sure sign that I'd drunk too much because I'd lost count of how many glasses I'd had. If I just went out there, pranced around a bit, flashed just a little bit and then got the hell out of there, how bad would that be? And I would have saved the day. And it wasn't as though I was too modest or shy to perform in front of an audience, with all that modeling and acting training when I was young. I downed the last of my glass. Oh, what the heck. Yes, I would do it. I saw Stuart looking at me, waiting, pleading...

"OK," I said.

"Yes! Ooh, I love you!" Stuart cried as he embraced me in a big hug. "Right," he said, springing to his feet, "let's get this show on the road! First, we need a name – I'm going to announce you before you go on, and you don't need to use your real name if you don't want to."

"Oh, that'd be Angie," said Sarah with a wry smile.

"Thanks, Sarah," I smirked. "Yeah, Angie would be fine."

"Right, it's Angie. What about music? You'll need to dance a bit, so think of a song you like and we'll see if Jim – that's Jim there, he's our sound guy – we'll see if he's got it."

I thought about my favorite songs, and the first to pop into my head was Hendrix's Foxy Lady. Such a sexy song.

"Jim!" Stuart yelled across room, "you heard the lady – Fox Lady! Have you got it!"

Jim started fumbling urgently though his pile of cds. He bumped the side of the desk as he searched, and what seemed like a hundred disks tumbled onto the floor. Stuart rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Yes, here it is – found it!" said Jim.

"OK, great! Cue it up, we're going on in two minutes!"

God, two minutes! I frantically checked my appearance, making sure my hair was straight. Sarah looked at me with a grin.

"Anne, they won't be worried if your hair's not straight. Hey, you look fine, don't worry. Once you're out there, you'll see what I mean."

My heart was pounding – I was trembling in anticipation of what was about to happen. What if someone I knew was out there? No, don't think of that. Oh, my glasses, I must take off my glasses!

"Hey," said Stuart, "leave the glasses on. It'll be hard to see out there with the lights, and anyway, you look sexy in glasses."

OK, the glasses stay. But what will I do out there? How will I dance? What if I just froze up? I thought of my modeling days – that's it! Pretend it's like a modeling catwalk. And I'm in my business clothes, so I can make it into some kind of weird fashion show. Just walk up and down a bit, strike a pose at the end of the stage... That should do it.

"OK Anne, are you ready?" said Stuart.

"Yes. Sarah, give me a sip of your wine!"

Sarah held the glass as I took a big gulp. She gave me a big kiss.

"Oh Anne," she said, as she reached down to undo the top two buttons on my blouse, "you'll be great! Just go with it; it feels fantastic out there!"

"Right," said Stuart. "Just stay here and wait for my intro. You'll hear me, you'll hear them cheering, then the music will start and then you go on. OK? Good luck!"

With that he was off, out through the curtain and onto the stage. I could hear the crowd come to life as they spotted the red suited man appear to announce the next stripper. Me.

"Ladies and gentleman, thank you for your patience. For our last contestant, we have a rare and very special treat. This is a lady of style and class, of sophistication and beauty, a lady I am sure you are going to love. So please give it up y'all for the lovely Angieeee!!"

I heard them roar as Stuart scurried off the stage. Then, as if it was seeping out of the walls, I heard that menacing opening guitar riff of Foxy Lady. OK, here I go...

I pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the light. It was like stepping into another world. I took two steps and stopped to take in the scene before me. But I could hardly see anything, so bright were the lights. I stood there making a model's pose, hands on hips, one leg pushed forward. Even if I couldn't see them, I could hear them - they howled in appreciation; the cheering was so loud that I could almost feel the energy behind it, the pure lust of hundreds of guys out there somewhere, their eyes fixed on my every move. Yes, I could feel the heat, the energy; it was palpable.

Catwalk, catwalk, I kept saying to myself. I strutted up to the front of the stage and stopped to hold another pose. They cheered again. Even up this close to them, I could barely make out any faces, just a sea of heads in the blinding light. I could feel the heat rising onto the stage from so many bodies crammed into the bar.

I turned and walked back down the stage, shaking my hips in an attempt to be sexy. I heard them cheering. I felt very self conscious and nervous, but they seemed to be liking me. I turned and faced them. I bent forward and picked up the hem of my skirt, raising it up my thigh a bit. They roared again, and I felt their energy almost absorb through my body. They were reacting to my every move. It was a powerful feeling; it was sexy. Total admiration. I felt almost elated!

I shed my jacket, hurling it onto the floor. More cheering. I turned to the side of the stage and began to unbutton my blouse. Then howls of approval only emboldened me. Down the row to the last button, I was about to leave it at that but they were cheering me on, almost willing me to do it. I undid the last button and opened my blouse just a little bit. The whistling increased; it sounded like a siren. I still hadn't shown them anything other than my belly but they were going wild! I strutted back up to the front of the stage, Hendrix's cool tones ringing through my brain, melding into the cheers from the crowd as if it was some giant rock concert, and I was the star performer.

Ooh, it was such a rush! I felt such power, as though they were hanging on my every move, waiting to see what I would do next. And they were. It felt sexy; it was making feel sexy. The song was half way through but it felt like only the start. I turned to face them. I could not really see them, but I could feel them.

I walked back to the front of the stage, blouse undone. I reached my hands up to the sides of my collar. They cheered. I remembered how Sarah had teased them. I stood there, as if ready to shed my blouse, waiting. Up this close you could distinguish the loudest individual voices in the crowd below. I drank in the cheers, exhilarated at their response, their urgings. I felt something like a star. I tugged at my blouse – should I do it? Yes. I let it slip it off my shoulders.

The song was nearly over. I could stop it now; I had given them a little flash – God, I had taken my blouse off! - but I wanted to keep going a little longer. Wanted to feel their energy, their admiration, make them go wild for me. Oh yes, Sarah was right; there was nothing like it!

And I was getting wet. So many guys out there and they all want me; dying to see more of my body. It was like a drug, and I needed more. I then knew I was going to do it – I was going to strip out of my skirt. Yes. My clitoris was throbbing now. Standing at the front of the stage, right there in front of them, as close as I could get to them, close enough that I knew some of them could be able to look up my skirt. I made another pose but this time my hands were on my skirt. On the zipper. I felt the zipper's little handle – it felt like a switch in my hands, a trigger. I pulled. They roared as collectively they realized I was about to lose the skirt. I zipped it down. The skirt fell loose but stayed around my hips. I smiled out into the light. I shook my hips to the music, and down fell my skirt. More deafening applause as I stood there in nothing but my white bra and g-string, and my skirt pooled around my heels on the floor. I stepped out of the skirt, flicking it with my foot so that it landed back down the end of the stage. I felt a surge of blood to my pussy; God, I was nearly naked in front of them!

I began to dance as the song faded out, shaking my hips, waving my hands in the air, even rubbing my tits through my bra – provoking even more cheering. The song was over; too soon, I felt, but just as I thought about the best way to make my exit, a new song kicked in, a more modern funky number. I still could have just walked off, but I wanted to enjoy just a little bit more of this; I didn't want it to end just yet. Just a little longer. My dance continued. And the longer I danced, the less self conscious I felt. The audience almost seemed to morph now into a combined mass of energy and heat.

I could feel their visceral energy right through my being. My body was responding to their attention, their applause. My pussy was soaking now, throbbing almost painfully, I could feel it. My nipples were hard. Yes, this was good; I felt exposed, but I felt powerful; at the centre of an enclosed sexual universe. They wanted more. I could feel it as they urged me on. I wanted more. I grabbed my tits, squeezing, feeling my stiffening nipples through the material of my bra. I knew what they wanted. Did I want it too? But would I? Could I?

I almost hadn't realized what I was doing straight away, but I was pinching my nipples, pulling them tightly. Ooh, my nipples were so hard... The crowd could see it, see what I was doing, and they roared in approval. Yes!

God, I could feel the sensations building inside my body. I was becoming engulfed in a sexual fog within the surreal scene up on stage, barely able to see but engrossed in an intimate sexual and physical conversation with hundreds of males. God, I even briefly imagined how many cocks I'd caused to be hard out there. Oohh...

Through the maelstrom I could pick out the odd individual voice, the odd word. It sounded like 'TITS!' I could hear, and then yes, I realized I could definitely hear it, as a chorus began to build of 'TITS! TITS! TITS!'

They want it. And yes, I wanted it. I wiggled my hips as my hands went around behind my back, and they roared as they saw me unclasping the catch on my bra. I felt it come loose, releasing the tension on my breasts. It was now or never. I could simply have walked off the stage at that point, having already gone far, far further than I'd planned. God, half an hour ago the idea of even standing up here would have seemed impossible, and here I was now about to show my tits to hundreds of guys! The only thing holding my bra on now was my hands held against my chest. I could feel my heart beating fiercely through my hands.

As I danced, I let my hands go loose, letting my bra fall to the floor. The crescendo of cheering rose as they watched me now, only in my panties and heels, my body twisting and turning now as much in a sexual trance as in time with the music, my tits jiggling as I danced, free of any constraint, on display for all the enjoyment of all those men. My heart was pounding. My pussy was throbbing hard. I was wetter than ever. I could feel the excitement rising through me like a wave; the itch; God, I could feel it now – I was very close to having an orgasm!

I just kept dancing, running my hands now over my sweating body, letting them slide up and down my hips, up my torso, over my tits and my painfully hard nipples, even tweaking them, ratcheting up my arousal even more as I grabbed my tits. I peered out into the crowd, trying to make out some faces. I wanted to see the expressions, the looks of lust on their faces. I could just make out a few. They were yelling, whistling, smiling.

I was so wet that I knew it must be showing through the material of my panties – God, they would all know how much I was enjoying this! I should have felt ashamed, but that thought, that they could see, that they knew, God, it only got me even wetter.

And I wanted them to see. I wanted them to see me. See my body. See my bare, naked, shaved little pussy, all swollen and hot and wet, and my clit ring, my slutty little clit ring to match the nipple rings they were now all freely drinking in with glazed, lustful eyes. I couldn't stop myself as my flailing hand landed on my crotch and rubbed hard. I felt like I was spinning out of control, and yet at the same time more in command of my faculties, more in tune with my senses, than I had ever been. I looked out into the delirious crowd and pouted as I rubbed my steaming wet pussy through my panties, bending my legs and thrusting forward, as if metaphorically fucking the whole room. God, I almost couldn't believe myself – here I was almost naked, rubbing my pussy in front of a room full of guys! Ooh God, I was almost about to cum...

They were chanting now, a deep guttural tone that was building in urgency and volume. OFF! That's what they were chanting. OFF!

Off! Oh yes, my brain screamed, do it - take off your panties! I grabbed the sides of my g-string, my hips still wiggling almost involuntarily. My mouth was open and I was panting, partly through physical exertion, but mostly through arousal. I felt so hot! My mouth was watering as I stood there looking out into the smoky light and across the shadows of heads. Their chorus had died down a little but the energy behind it was still there, as if like a wave about to crash.

I tugged it down over my hips as they screamed in approval. I glanced down my body, my wet, glistening skin shining against the hot light. I could see my clit ring now peeking out of the top of my panties, the steel flashing under the spotlights. It was my own body but to me it looked just soo hot, so sexy! My clit was throbbing like a beating heart. This was it; oh yes - get them off!

I yanked the string down, almost ripping it down my hips and legs, stepping one foot out of it as it hit the floor. I stood there literally drinking in their cheers with my skin, my ears almost deafened under the assault. Naked in front of hundreds of guys, and wetting myself. It felt strangely like the highlight of some fashion show as I imagined the lights to be the flashes of a thousand cameras trained on my body. My naked body. My tits. My cunt.

Before I even seemed to realize it myself, my hand was rubbing my pussy. I rubbed harder, as the final strands of self-consciousness seemed to drift away. I could feel how wet I was. I knew that my pussy would have been shining in the light, glistening lewdly – I knew that they could all see it. And it only made me wetter. Yet all I could see was the blinding white light as I feverishly rubbed my bare, wet pussy in front of all those guys.

Time seemed to stand still. I looked up into the brightest lights as they roared with approval. I felt my sheer sexuality at the centre of some male universe; the object of their desire, but unattainable, and unable to see them as I was, I imagined hundreds of guys with hard cocks and rubbing them through their pants, watching me and unable to stop themselves from ejaculating on the spot. I rubbed harder, harder, and they roared, collectively as some growling beast, and my finger slipped inside my opening. Straight in. I was as wet as I'd ever been. Ooohh, I was going to cum right there on stage!

Then the lights seemed to dim a little. Suddenly I could make out a few faces. And with that, a little of my self-consciousness returned; I suddenly started to feel exposed. In an odd way, I had felt anonymous in not being able to see them. My body and mind felt overheated, but somehow the moment was fading. The music was still pumping but I realized the show was over now; I had gone as far as I could go, as far as I should – yet way too far! It was time to stop. I stood up – God, I hadn't even noticed that I'd slid down on my haunches as I fingered myself in front of them – oh God, had I really just done that? But I felt elated, euphoric, and before I left I bowed to the crowd, then picked up my g-string as I scurried back down the stage to the curtain, and made my exit, their cheers still ringing in my ears.

Sarah, Stuart and Jim were waiting on the other side. They gave me a round of applause. Sarah hugged me tightly. Even the two backstage security guys were cheering. They were also leering at my naked sweaty body. I didn't mind. I even wanted them to look. I sat down and someone threw a towel over my shoulders. But I just left it there as the security guys stood there grinning madly, leering at my naked body, staring at my pussy, my legs spread half open as I relaxed.

Stuart kissed me on the cheek.

"Thank you, honey – you were fantastic! You've saved my bacon tonight!"

I nodded in acknowledgement as he scurried back out onto the stage. I started collecting up my clothes – Stuart evidently had gathered up my skirt, blouse and jacket from where I'd left them out on the stage.

God, that had been unbelievable; I still didn't believe it myself. Had that really just happened? But now it was over, the excitement gone. I almost felt like I was coming down off a drug. I felt tired all of a sudden. Sarah was exactly the opposite, almost dancing around the room.

"Oooh, you were so hot!" she said. "It's amazing when you get out there, isn't it!"

"Yeah," I sighed. I really was tired now. She was talking about making a real night of it, going out on the town, but I really just wanted to go home – preferably with her. As physically and mentally exhausted as I was, I still felt sexually charged. God, I had almost had an orgasm – naked on stage! – and I felt that familiar yearning, that frustration deep inside.

Maybe I should make a big night of it, I thought? I looked across at the big black security guard as I put my bra back on. The rest of me was still naked. The guy was looking at me with piercing eyes, grinning. I smiled back at him. I noticed he was still staring at my naked pussy. I looked at his pants. You could clearly see the outline of his cock – hard, enormous, almost threatening to tear through the material.