No Controlling Legal Authority Ch. 12

She froze in the bright glare of the spotlight and wobbled indecisively. She looked down her legs and was aghast at what the light revealed. She was wearing a sort of pant, but it was made of filmy fabric that didn't do much more than change the color of her legs from tan to a smoky gray, but that wasn't all, the pants were more like chaps, because they only covered the outsides and fronts of her legs and left the insides and backs bare. They were fastened around her ankles with little braided ropes, that kept them from flying out behind her when she walked and the front was made like a fringed bib, which tied in back at the waist with a pair of tiny ribbons, and, in the front, it covered no more of her belly than the four inches just below her navel. Her buttocks were completely bare and her pubis was inadequately concealed behind a wispy curtain of fringe that threatened to part with the slightest of movements, and when she put the thing on, she had been certain that there was more to it than was on the hanger, but a hasty search failed to turn up any more parts, so she put it on as it was. The top was nearly as revealing, but it, at least, had a couple of horizontal tucks which doubled the material where it crossed her breasts and afforded a little more cover than a single ply would have. She blushed in embarrassment and glanced over her shoulder at the sanctuary of the dressing room. She was debating the urge to bolt, when Nancy came to her rescue.

"Ohhhhhh, darling, you look spectacular," she gushed enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you picked that one."

Nancy threw her arm around the young woman's quivering shoulders and comforted her. "Really, honey, you look just wonderful. You hear me?"

Imogene looked down and moved her hand to cover herself. "Yes ma'am," she muttered nearly too embarrassed to speak.

Nancy brushed her hand away and laughed. "Don't be silly girl; there's no point in covering up what that outfit was designed to reveal, is there?"

"No ma'am; I guesh not."

"You're damn right. Now, look at me, honey. I'm gonna show you how to strut your stuff. You do got stuff to strut, don't ya?"

"I, uh, I dunno," the girl answered weakly.

"Oh, the hell you don't; just look at you. You got tits, and nice ones, and a pussy to die for with all those tight little ringlets and curls all over it, and, just look here," she said as she spun the girl around to inspect her bare buttocks, "at the cutest little ass I've seen on a grown woman in years. You got the stuff, honey; now, all you gots to do is strut it like you know it."

The praise helped the girl relax, and she looked at Nancy hopefully.

Nancy continued, "So, just follow me, honey; put your hands on your hips like this," and she positioned Imogene's hands on the jutting wings of her hip bones. "Right, and roll your shoulders forward just a little; OK, and, no, no, quit looking down and lift your chin; no, damnit, up; stop looking at the floor; you're beautiful and you know it; you're the most beautiful woman in the room and you're damn well proud of it, aren't you."

"Oh Nancy, you think so?" she gurgled doubtfully.

"This isn't about what I think, girl, it's about what you think and how you act. You want to be beautiful? Start by acting like you think you're beautiful."

"OK, I'll try; honest, it's just that I feel so exposed."

"Of course you're exposed; you're beautiful, and you want to show yourself off, don't you?"

"I, uh,"

"Sure you do; now, just follow the spotlights and walk to the other side of the room and back for me."

"Uh, Nancy, I don't know...."

"Bullshit," Nancy hissed. "That modesty crap won't work with me, darlin'; nobody who loves sucking cock like you do's gonna be that shy. Now get moving."

Imogene felt Maxine's warning pushing her forward, and she lurched toward the next circle of light.

"That's my girl," Nancy encouraged her as she wobbled toward the couch. "Keep going, yeah, just like that, that's it, pick up the beat of the music, right, now swing your hips, yes, yes, you're getting it. Slink a little, yeah, like a big cat on the prowl; a lioness. Think about Billy, baby; think about walking for him, showin' off for him. Strut like you want to make him hot for you."

Imogene's confidence grew as Nancy purred her praise and her balance improved. She turned with a flourish at the end of the arc, and the fringe on her chaps flew aside exposing her, and Nancy gave an appreciative wolf-whistle. As she passed the couch where Nancy was sitting cross-legged and clapping, Nancy handed her the martini shaker and a glass.

"Here sweetie, take these with you to the dressing room, and see if you can't find something else you'd like to model."

Imogene complied with growing confidence and dwindling embarrassment. She modeled three or four outfits, changing from one to the other in a rush and slugged martinis between strolls through the den. Nancy clapped and cheered and encouraged her to be bold and provocative, and once or twice, she got up to show her how to hold her head or move her hips or shoulders to maximize the effect of some special feature of a garment. Imogene warmed to the encouragement and her reserve loosened. She followed Nancy's advice and concentrated on Billy, remembering how she had loved to distract him by teasing him with her baby doll nightie, while he was trying to study. He was easy, her Billy, lifting his eyes to watch her flash her buns at him, wiggling enticingly, then dropping his pencil and grabbing for her. On the last pass, she paused near the couch while Nancy watched, and, lifting her arms above her head, she undulated her hips in a wantoned display of sensuality, which flared her skirt and showed her naked below the waist.

When she stopped, Nancy leapt up to hug her and exclaimed, "Wow, honey, you're some fast learner; you keep it up and me and Jerry are going to have to invite you and Rufus to spend Easter break with us in Cancun at our little hacienda down there. How would you like that?"

"Oh, really? You mean it?" Imogene gasped almost childlike at the prospect of vacationing with the Farbers.

Nancy smiled indulgently. It was so easy, this game of prey and predator, that the certainty of the outcome nearly bored her. The results were too predictable, always had been, even way back when she was in the business and her bosses had first come to her for help with getting the new girls to turn tricks for them. There were all sorts of girls, dancers, of course, but coat-check girls and waitresses and girls she found in bars and bus stations, too; it didn't matter where she found them, they were all easy for her to seduce. The tools of the trade were always the same, gullibility, avarice and vanity; make them want something badly enough, and they would be willing to do anything to get it. Promise them something they think they want, be it fame, fortune, popularity, beauty, it didn't matter; just get them leaning in the direction you want them to fall, and all it takes is a little push and there they go.

"Oh, honey, yessssss. You are so beautiful and so sexy and it would be sooooo much fun. We would drink Bloody Marys all day and wear thongs and string bikinis and drive Rufus and Jerry crazy, oh, and Archie, too, of course, he'd be there with us, and we'd lay in the sun all day, and dance all night till dawn, and then go skinny dipping in the pool before breakfast. We could play and be sexy and do what ever we wanted."

"Oooooh, Nancy," Imogene bubbled, nearly smelling the Hawaiian Tropic and feeling the hot equatorial sun on her bare skin, "Yes, yes, yes."

"Maybe we'll shave our pussies and just paint our bikinis on with lipstick and prance around the house like that till the boys' tongues are hanging out. Wouldn't that be soooooo fun, Imogene."

"Ooooh," the girl responded noncommittally; she was having no little difficulty with the concept of shaving herself down there.

"Ooooooooo," Nancy exclaimed, ignoring Imogene's incomplete response, "that reminds me, honey. Archie! Where is that rascal, I wonder? He's just what we need in here, ya know. A man, that's what we need; I mean you're wastin' your talents on me, honey, if you get my drift. I love your looks and all, but I'm just a woman, so what do I know about how sexy you are. What we really need to get is a man's reaction. What'd ya say?"

"Nancccccccy," the girl started to protest, but the woman's enthusiasm was infectious, so her objection lacked conviction. "He's so young; he probably thinks I'm just an ugly old hag."

"Yeah, right," the older woman retorted, "that's exactly what I thought too, kid, when he was starin' at your tits in the living room just a little while ago. Remember?"

"I remember," Imogene replied and blushed self-consciously.

"I'm getting him in here, now," Nancy declared eagerly. She stooped and pressed a concealed switch on the end table beside the couch and spoke in an urgent tone, "Archie, would you come to the den please, immediately."

Imogene glanced around the room with a look of dazed consternation trying to figure out who or what Nancy had been talking to. For a moment, her gaze settled on the huge fireplace as if she half expected the boy to come down the chimney like Santa Claus. She plucked at the wisps of cloth covering her chest and directed her eyes demurely toward the floor.

"Relax, honey," Nancy laughed reassuringly, "It's just an intercom; everybody reacts that way the first time they see me use it. He'll be a minute; it's a ways down to his apartment in the basement. Have a seat."

She patted the couch as she spoke, and Imogene sat beside her. Nancy scooted closer, and Imogene could feel the heat of her body next to her nearly naked thigh. Nancy put her arm around the girl's shoulder and pulled her close. Imogene felt the firm flesh of the older woman's breast flattening as she pressed against her arm. She was confused and off balance, unaccustomed to being cuddled by another woman while so, uh, undressed.

Nancy held her close and whispered softly, "we'll have so much fun in Cancun, honey, you can't imagine how clear and beautiful the water is down there, and we'll go sailing on our yacht, it's a sixty footer we call `Satin Sheets,' and we'll anchor in a secluded cove we know about and sunbathe neked, and if the boys get horny watchin us, we'll just pull them into the bushes and suck them dry. Ya think Rufus'll like that, darlin?"

Nancy's words painted bright images in Imogene's mind, and she allowed herself to drift in her imagination on the soft, swelling waves lapping at the shores of that fantasy island. Surf and sun, rippling heat on smooth, satin skin, and the tidal urge of turgescent flesh, kneeling in homage in pure white sand, thoughts surged in her brain, and she felt a flooding warmth in her loins.

"Yes," she murmured distantly, as though reluctant to depart the dream, and Nancy leaned closer.

"Making love in the surf with the warm salt water swirling all around you and a hard cock in your cunt, driving deeper into you with every crashing wave."

Nancy's seductive words slithered from her lips with devastating effect. Her hand slipped between Imogene's ribcage and her arm, and her fingertips lightly followed the rounded swell of the girl's breast.

"Oh, yes," the girl exhaled breathlessly, and her body rocked slightly with the gentle wash of the imaginary surf. Her nipples tightened, and she crossed her thighs to contain her heat.

"Or, floating in deep water, with your man hanging from the anchor chain with his cock in you, and you riding up and down with the rise and fall of the swells. Oh, baby, it feels sooooo goooood, with that warm water all around you holding you up and you not touching anything but water and a big, hard cock. Ohhhhhhhh wheeeeee, that's nice." Her fingers followed the sloping cone of the girl's breast out to the tip and lightly squeezed her nipple to measure her response.

"Ugh," Imogene grunted incoherently. Her eyes were tightly shut, and she unconsciously lifted her breasts to the encircling fingers. She shifted her hips, adjusting to the building warmth between her legs, and drifted like a chip on a wave toward an immense submarine phallus.