Pleasing Her Fans

"And they'll probably like it even more when you take some of those things off," she replied with a sly little smile. "Don't forget, I see everything they're saying on your website." We both giggled, as Samantha helped me zip up the dress and then poured a glass of wine to calm my nerves.

The next forty-five minutes seemed to last forever. I completed my vocalizing exercises and started pacing up and down in the dressing room when I finally heard a knock on the door and the familiar words, "Five minutes, Miss Sterling."

Showtime

I stepped out into the passageway and headed down toward the back right edge of the stage where I'd make my entrance between the two black curtains. The house lights dimmed and I could hear the standard announcement about no video and flash photography allowed. Then, finally, "Please welcome a talented pianist and wonderful singer who has a very special show planned for you tonight, Miss Kim Sterling!"

Even though I've been introduced hundreds of time, I don't think I'd ever felt the energy coming from an audience the way I did that night. As I walked out on center stage, paused next to the piano, and looked up to see the packed house, it was all I could do to suppress a feeling of panic as the adrenaline surged through my body. Just what had I gotten myself into?

I sat down at the piano and pulled the microphone toward me. "Good evening, and thank you for that warm welcome." A smattering of applause came from the crowd. I smiled, and continued. "Tonight I'll be inviting you to join me on a musical journey, from my beginnings as a classically trained pianist, through my exploration of the great American songbook and as well as some contemporary numbers. And I'll take you with me on a few new adventures as well." Some cheers interrupted at that point, so I paused to survey the audience, then continued, "Those of you who follow me online may already have some expectations about those escapades." A much larger cheer erupted, and if I had had any doubt, I knew at that moment just what most of the audience had come to see.

"So, let's begin at the beginning, with a short piece by Beethoven." I had picked a familiar composition, the first movement of the Moonlight Sonata. It's a quiet, contemplative piece, but to get the pacing of this show right, I knew I had to keep things somewhat subdued at least through the first half of the evening. The number was surprisingly well received, and after that I brought out the band and we launched into some of my standard set list.

The first half of the show drew heavily on compositions from the 30's and 40's; the band sounded great and the audience responded enthusiastically. Then, we switched to some more recent songs, which I introduced by saying they reflected a period of change and risk-taking . Finally we came to the point where I knew things were going to get interesting. I glanced over at the band, took a deep breath and nodded, as if it say, "here we go."

I pushed the bench out and stood up, walking slowly to the front of the stage. By now there was a real sense of anticipation running through the audience as I began to speak. "In addition to changes in the music we've been performing, I'd like to talk about something else that's been changing recently. And that's the expectations of some of my fans," I explained. "You see, I've been keeping up with the requests you've posted on my website," and I paused as various people called out from the audience. "But I'm afraid," I said in the tone a school teacher might use to scold misbehaving children, "that some of you have the wrong idea about me."

There were some laughs and playful groans from the crowd. "So, this next song is intended to clear up any misconceptions. It's called 'But I Am A Good Girl.'" The horns immediately began playing as I turned to stroll back to the middle of the stage, swaying my hips in an exaggerated way to the beat of the song. Here, I thought is where those days spent practicing with a choreographer are going to pay off!

The lyrics perfectly fit the mood I wanted to create at this point in the show, describing all the expensive clothes and accessories the singer wears and asking her what she had to do to get those things. To which I replied in an innocent and shocked voice, "What, I am a good girl."

Then came the first instrumental break and as the band pounded out the rhythm, I proceeded to strut across the front of the stage, winking at the people sitting in the first few rows and pushing one strap off my shoulder, only to quickly pull it back up again. I then moved to the other side of the stage, repeated the same movements, and circled back in the direction of the band just as they reached the end of a chorus, which was punctuated by two heavy drum beats, perfect for doing a little bump and grind.

Several audience members now began calling out for more, and as I resumed singing the next verse, I turned slightly away from the audience. Reaching around, I started to play with the zipper at the back of my dress. Pulling it up and down several times, I gave the audience a quick peek at the back of my bra and a bit of the skin below it without ever quite lowering it down to my waist.

Finally, I pulled the zipper as far down as it would go, revealing the top of my black lace panties, and quickly turned forward to face the crowd. As I gently nudged the straps off my shoulder and delivered the final line of "But I am a good girl," the dress slid to the floor as I stood there in just my bra, panties, garter belt and stockings.

The trumpet and sax blared out as the drums and bass drove the beat, and the crowd broke out into prolonged applause. With my hips swaying, I moved to the right side of the stage and stretched myself out on the piano bench. In an exaggerated motion, I bent one leg, then extended it as my fingers unsnapped the clips holding up the stocking on my right leg. I teasingly caressed my thigh as I rolled the material down, then leaned forward to grab the end of the stocking and pulled it off my leg. Standing up, I dangled the black silk from my hand as I went to the edge of the stage and tossed it into the crowd.

I returned to the bench and, placing my left foot on it, repeated the same steps with my other stocking. This time, after pulling it off my leg, I managed to stretch it like a rubber band and release it, shooting it out several rows deep into the audience. I unhooked the garter belt from around my waist, and then strutted to the center stage in only my bra and panties.

The bra had a swirling pattern of black lace that seemed revealing but in fact was lined, which meant that my breasts were fully covered. However, my panties were a different story. The dark silk panel in front was opaque, but the back was comprised entirely of sheer black mesh. Under the glare of the spotlight, my butt crack was clearly on display.

I now walked out on the runway for the first time, and I could see the intense stares and hear the shouts of many in the crowd. Standing at the very end of it and thrusting my hips out first to one side and then the other, wriggling my ass as I did, I felt an intense warmth surge through me. I was literally surrounded by the audience on three sides, and I was loving every second of it.

A number of people had their cell phones out (in spite of the announcement at the start of the show) and in a couple of cases, I deliberately paused near them before making my way back to center stage. Jordan instinctively knew to stretch out the song, adding a repeat to the instrumental break before heading into the last few measures of the tune. That was my cue to resume singing.

Turning to face the crowd I reached for the snap in the front of my bra that held the two cups together. And as I belted out, "I am a good girl," followed by an "ooh, uhh, ahh, yeah ahh" to end the song, I undid the snap and let the bra slip from shoulders. The two large silver pasties just managed to cover my areolas and nipples, but other than that, my tits were completely exposed. The theater erupted in a standing ovation as I stood there, finally turning to walk to the back of the stage. When I got to the curtains, I faced forward again for just a few seconds to acknowledge the applause and then ducked out of sight. My first strip had clearly been a success.

The band now played a number by themselves, giving me a chance to retreat to my dressing room for the next wardrobe change. Inside Samantha stood waiting, already holding my jumpsuit in her hands. I quickly peeled off my pasties, then hooked my fingers into the side of my panties and slid them off. I suddenly realized I had just stripped completely naked in front of my assistant, something that hundreds of people had been begging me to do only minutes ago. It didn't seem fair to my fans, and I think I knew then I would have to do something about that before the evening ended.

Sam handed me the beige colored pair of panties with narrow straps that snapped to a small triangle of cloth in the front. As I was sliding them on, she also held out a pair of red heart-shaped pasties. I paused, looked at them for a moment, and then shook my head "no." She just smiled and said, "Why am I not surprised."

I then took the black jumpsuit that Samantha had laid out and hurriedly stepped into it. Fortunately there were zippers at the bottom of each leg, which made it a little easier to slide my feet in and pull the suit up. I then slipped first one arm, then the other into the sleeves while Sam held the top of the suit up against my back. Pulling the sides together, I slowly tugged the zipper - which started at the very bottom of my crotch - all the way up to my neck.

The blend of synthetics and spandex wasn't super comfortable, but the fit was incredible. It was pretty much skin tight, which made me grateful that I had continued to work out on a regular basis. My nipples grew hard as I adjusted my tits under the form-fitting suit and I wondered if the audience would be able to see. But by this point, I simply didn't care. I slipped on my high heels, did a spin in front of my assistant to make sure everything looked okay, and asked, "So you think my fans will approve?"

"I'm sure they will," she said with a sly smile as she led me out of the dressing room door. From there, I made my way out to the stage and stood behind the curtain that shielded me from the audience's view as I waited for the number to end. The band got a nice round of applause, but it really gave me a jolt when I stepped from behind the curtain and the volume of the cheers increased.

"Well, I'm back," I said with a big smile as I walked to the front of the stage, "with some new songs. Oh," I continued as if it were an afterthought, "with a new outfit too. Hope you like it," to which a number of people responded enthusiastically. I walked over, sat down at my piano, and waited as Carol counted out the beat and we launched into the song "Fever."

It was a good number for kicking off this part of our show. It brought the volume and the energy down just a bit but still sustained the sexy, elegant mood that (as Brian would say) was now part of my stage persona. We ran through a half dozen similar numbers, ones that had become of my recent late-night set at the clubs, and then mixed in a couple of the new arrangements as well.

The closing number

We were now nearing the end of the show, so it was time for me introduce the band. I got up from the piano and walked to center stage as the applause for the previous song died down. "We're going to be finishing up soon, so I want to acknowledge the fine musicians playing with me tonight," and I proceeded to call out Jordan, Doug, Kole, Alan, and Carol, each one getting a nice round of applause.

I then moved forward as the lighting in the back dimmed, giving the stage hands a chance to move the large white-screen divider onto center stage, almost in line with the band. At this point I was getting such a rush from all the attention, I decided to spontaneously add a little more tease to the action. Walking out to the end of the runway extension, I carefully sat down and dangled my legs over the edge just a few feet away from several of the tables.

"Before we resume playing, I was wondering if I could get some assistance." Glancing down I signaled to a couple directly in front of me. "Maybe you two?" I asked. Then, stretching my right leg out, I looked up at the crowd and explained, "You see, there's one more wardrobe change coming up and it would be a great if someone could help with those zippers," I said pointing to my ankles.

I had to coax the couple forward to the edge of the stage, but I finally got them to undo the zippers and their efforts were rewarded with a polite round of applause from the audience.

"Now, I guess it's my turn," I said, standing up and taking a few steps back toward the middle of the runway. With those words, I brought my right hand up to my neck and took hold of the zipper that ran all the way down the front of the jumpsuit. Carol started a slow drum roll as Kole and Alan played along.

"I have to confess to being a little nervous about tonight's show," and as I spoke I very slowly started to lower the zipper. "We've worked hard to get the new numbers ready for you, and I hope you've enjoyed everything you've seen so far." With that, I pulled the zipper almost to the bottom of my breasts, allowing the inner curves of my breasts to come into view.

The music increased in volume, and there was a spontaneous round of applause, so I leaned forward just a bit, giving those closest to the stage an even clearer view of my cleavage . "And I hope you'll come and see us again real soon."

I then retreated from the runway and walked to the white screen that had been moved in line with the curtain near the piano. I stopped just in front of the screen, turned back to face the audience, and said, "Please excuse me while I slip into something a little less confining for our closing numbers." With that, I yanked the zipper down to my belly button. But before my breasts could spill out into view, I stepped behind the screen.

The house lights immediately dimmed and a bright spotlight came on from the back of the stage, projecting a dramatic silhouette of me onto the white screen. The band launched into the next song, with Jordan playing the opening chords on the piano as he began to sing a slowed-down version of "Put the Blame on Mame."

Changing the tempo gave a sense of mystery and anticipation to the song, something that perfectly matched what the audience could now see. It also gave me enough time to strip out of the jumpsuit with only the white divider standing between me and the crowd. The back light threw my shadow on the screen, just like a movie projected from behind, allowing the audience to follow my silhouetted shape through every move as I undressed.

Turning sideways in order to emphasize what my hand was doing, I pulled the zipper down the last few inches to the bottom of my crotch. The jumpsuit parted and I reached up to slip one side, then the other, off my shoulders. With my right hand, I grabbed the left sleeve and pulled it off my arm, and then did the same on the other side. As I turned to face the rear of the stage, the top of the jumpsuit fell to my hips and I quickly stepped out of my shoes. I started to push the material down my thighs, bending at the waist and wiggling my ass in an exaggerated manner to the slow measure of Jordan's singing, "That's the story that went around, but here's the real lowdown..."

Then with the jumpsuit completely off, I picked up the garment and held out it on my left side for a few seconds until the words, "Put the blame on Mame, boys, put the blame on Mame." I let the suit fall to the floor, leaving me wearing only my panties. But to the audience on the other side of the screen, I appeared naked because all they could see was my silhouetted 36-26-34 figure. I could feel my boobs jiggling as I moved and I knew the backlighting projected the full curves of my breasts, confirming for the audience that I was indeed a natural B cup. It was even possible that some sharp-eyed observer sitting close to the stage could discern my nipples, which seemed to be standing at attention like little pencil erasers. A type of electric shock went through my body with the realization of what they were seeing, but this was not the time to indulge that feeling.

I momentarily disappeared from sight, stepping behind the dark curtain and away from the white screen. Samantha was waiting there with the champagne-colored thigh-high split dress that she had help immortalize in the minds of my fans by our photo shoot. She held it up behind me just like you would a coat as I quickly slipped my left arm in and pulled that edge of the dress across my front. Then, taking the other side and moving my right arm through the criss-cross strap, I wrapped the triangle-shaped edge of the dress around me to create the high slit.

Threading the tie attached to one side through a small eyelet in the fabric above my right hip, I fastened it with a knot to the other tie that Samantha was holding. I then stepped back behind the screen where my silhouette could be seen again, and I adjusted the spaghetti straps to make sure my boobs were covered as I slipped back into my shoes. This may sound complicated but it really isn't. And the great thing about it is that whenever it comes time to take the dress off, all I have to do is undo those straps tied across my back and everything simply comes unwrapped!

Jordan had just reached the end of his introduction, slowing it down to give me time to complete my change of wardrobe. The backlight went dark, and after pausing for several seconds to highlight the effect, the band kicked off the up-tempo version, complete with horns and drums. The overhead spotlights came back on as I stepped out from behind the screen, ready to show off my dress to the crowd.

I didn't want the full length of the slit to be visible immediately, so I deliberately walked slowly with smaller steps to the front of the stage as I began to sing. "When they had the earthquake in San Francisco, back in nineteen six..." As the verse progressed, I made sure to increase my hip action, swaying to the beat and allowing more leg to show. Gradually the full expanse of my right thigh came into view, and when I turned quickly to move toward the side of the stage, I could feel one side of the dress trail behind, revealing my hip and just a hint of the bottom of my ass cheek.

During the next verse I continued moving back and forth across the front of the stage, singing to different parts of the audience and also uncovering a considerable portion of my left leg as well as providing an occasional glimpse of my panties. I repeated a verse, giving me time to walk to the end of the runway where I stopped in mid-stride with my right foot extended, then bent slightly as I leaned forward. This had the effect of allowing one side of the dress to fall entirely away from my leg, and I teasingly ran my hand up and down the length of my exposed thigh. Once again, I felt this surge of excitement, and it took considerable effort to focus on the ending words as I retreated off the runway, singing, "Put - the -blame -on Mame."

I got a lot of cheers and whistles and prolonged applause, until I suddenly walked back to the split in the curtain and exited the stage. The audience hadn't been expecting this and the house grew quiet. Samantha had been standing in the wings watching the last number, and as I rushed by her, she called out, "You are amazing!" I turned and smiled, knowing how ready I was for the final number. "They ain't seen nothing yet!" I exclaimed with a big smile. I then hurriedly made my way along an empty corridor that ran up one side of the building toward the rear of the auditorium.