Stripping the Tease Pt. 01

Part 1

The blonde in the corner is watching us.

I know the look. The hidden smile. The lowered eyes. The occasional hair toss. It's so obvious, she's been trying to make eye contact with Michael all evening.

Some people have no subtlety.

I think about the ridiculousness of the whole situation. I am here at a very boring cocktail party full of people I don't know and probably will never see again, watching a woman I've never seen before making eyes at my date. Granted, he's a dish – tall, dark, and unexpectedly bashful about it, as if he'd simply woken up with a new face one morning and still can't believe it belongs to him.

Very well. If it's attention she wants, then that's what she'll get.

We make our way gradually over to the corner, on the pretext of getting another drink. I sidle up next to her, look her right in the eye.

"I'm Cris," I say by way of introduction, "and this is Michael."

Nobody breathes.

"You were looking at my date, weren't you?" She doesn't say anything but drops her gaze, guilty as charged. "He's nice, isn't he?" She nods hesitantly. Michael blushes. "Go on, I think he's rather nice myself. What's your name, then?"

"K-Kelly," she stammers.

"Well, K-Kelly, you've certainly got Michael's attention now. Was there something in particular you wanted to show him?"

I trail my fingertips lightly down the skirt covering back of her thigh. The hem of the skirt comes just down past her knee, with a small slit in the back to allow greater movement. I keep my hand there a while, flicking one of the open flaps back and forth between my thumb and forefinger.

"What do you think, Michael? Would you like to make a guess as to what she's got on underneath?"

Michael doesn't answer. His face is red and he swallows hard. I take that as an invitation to go on.

"What about you, Kelly, anything to offer?" I slip my hand inside the open slit of her skirt, brush my finger lightly against the back of her bare thigh. I can feel the muscle quiver.

I pull in closer to her. Her whole body's trembling. "I bet you're just dying to show us what you've got on under your dress, aren't you?" My voice caresses her ear. She whimpers.

My hand continues stroking the back of her thigh, moving upwards ever so slowly, lifting her skirt up slightly in the process. She makes a weak effort to pull it back down, but then just keeps her hands in front of her, trying to keep the front of the skirt from rising much higher. Michael is watching in fascination, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

My fingers encounter lace, then nylon. I can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her panties. She's bent over slightly now, still trying to hold down the front of her skirt, which gives her ass a wonderful rounded contour. Her buttocks are firm and smooth.

No reason to hurry, my fingers continue exploring, softly stroking Kelly's ass, tracing the fine nylon where it stretches tightly across the cleft between her buttocks, following it all the way down between her thighs. My fingertip rests there between her legs for a moment, pressing into her heat.

"Oh yes, you're hot now, aren't you?" My lips graze her ear, close enough to feel the fine hairs move with my breath. Her face is flushed, ragged breathing her only reply. The heat coming off her body is incredible. "I'll give you a choice: would you like to tell Michael here what you've got on under your skirt – or shall we just let him see for himself?"

---

Kelly doesn't answer. Her eyes are wide with uncertainty and something a little like fear. "What – what are you doing?" she whispers. "Not in front of – all these people."

I press my finger a little harder between her legs, tracing little circles against her panty-covered crotch. Her body quivers in response. Her hands are clenched tight, holding the front of her skirt to her thighs, her knuckles white with tension.

"I could grab these panties right now," I continue, "right here between your legs, and pull them down to your knees. Would you like that?"

"No," she whispers.

"Well, it looks as if we've got a bit of a problem then. Because one way or another you're going to show me."

The floodgates open and the tears start falling. "Please," she says, "at least let's go to the ladies' room. Not – out here."

"All right. We'll go to the ladies' room" With a final twist of my fingers I remove my hand from under her skirt. I let her watch Michael sniff my fingertips for a second while I whisper in his ear. Then I take Kelly by the arm, and we head for the bathrooms, just two regular girls off to powder our noses.

A couple other women are in the bathroom when we get there. I pretend to fix my lipstick until they leave, then turn on Kelly with a smile.

"Well now, looks like we're alone." I press in close to her. I can smell her scent, perfume laced with the sweaty undertone of fear. I slide my hand down her lower belly to cup her groin through her skirt. She whimpers. I curl my fingers.

With a sob she takes a step back and reaches down to her skirt. Slowly, without meeting my eyes, she starts to raise it.

A knock on the door interrupts us. Michael walks in, looking like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. "Am I too late?"

Kelly looks at me in a panic. "I thought this was private!"

"Wrong," I counter. "I never said Michael wasn't invited."

Kelly moans and slumps against the wall.

Part 2

Michael saunters into the bathroom, grinning.

"You're just in time," I tell him. "Kelly was just about to give us a show."

Kelly cringes against the toilet stall. "I can't do that," she whimpers.

Michael goes into the double-wide handicapped stall at the far end of the room and sits down on the edge of the toilet. I put my arm around Kelly's shoulders and guide her in after him, latching the stall door behind us. It's a close fit, and gives me another chance to press her body against me again, to inhale her scent. She's mine and she knows it.

I turn her so she's facing Michael, me standing behind her. I slip my leg between hers, easing her knees apart slightly. My pelvis rubs against the curve of her rump. I reach around to the front of her skirt and slowly start bunching the material up in my fingers.

"The only problem," I whisper, gathering more of her skirt in my hand, "is that from where I'm standing, I won't be able to tell when I've got your dress up high enough. And I won't be able to see what you're wearing underneath."

I pull more material up in my hand. I figure the skirt is all the way up to the top of her thighs about now. I can feel heat radiating off her body. "I know," I go on, "say we let Michael tell me when I've gone high enough. And he can tell me what they look like, too."

I pull the skirt up higher to where it's stretched across the widest part of her hips. Michael's smile widens as the bottom half of her panties comes into view. "Mmmm, very nice," he comments. "Light beige, I believe. Or peach. With just a suggestion of lace at the edges."

I keep one hand holding her skirt up while my other hand slips down to feel the soft nylon stretched tightly over her crotch. Her heat is even more intense there. I flick my tongue lightly against her earlobe and curl my fingers into the smooth nylon panel. I let the moment hang there, savoring the anticipation. Then, with a precise, even slowness, I begin to rub.

Sudden voices interrupt us as a couple of women come into the bathroom, talking animatedly. Michael hastily scrambles on top of the toilet, balancing his feet on the edge of the seat. We freeze for a moment, and then I resume rubbing, delivering insistent caresses to her crotch. She squirms in my grasp, breath heaving, struggling not to make a sound.

Splashing noises are followed by flushing, and then water running in the sink as the chattering ladies finish their business. Finally they are gone, and Michael goes out of the stall to lock the bathroom door. "Can't risk that again," he says.

Still holding her skirt up, I take my hand away from stroking her crotch and turn my attention to the zipper in back of her dress. "I don't think we've seen enough," I go on. "That was just a tease." I ease the zipper down slowly to the middle of her back. The top of the dress opens up at her shoulders, baring the tops of her bra straps. As if waking from a spell, she suddenly clasps her arms around her chest, trying to keep her dress from falling from her shoulders.

"I'll give you a choice," I whisper in her ear, licking the lobe one more time. "Either you let me pull your skirt all the way up so we can see all your panties, or you let me take your top down and show us your bra. It's entirely up to you."

Part 3

Kelly says nothing, only clutches the top of the dress tighter against her chest.

"I suppose I'll have to take that as an answer."

"Of course, you know everything's going to have to come off eventually," Michael volunteers.

I shoot him a look. "You men have no patience. These things have to be done slowly, to enhance the effect." I gather the skirt up further in my hand, raising it up further. The fabric stretches tightly across her rump as I pull. I wonder if I'll rip the slit in the back.

The helm of the skirt clears the top of her pelvis, and I know Michael can get a full look at the front of her panties. My knuckles graze the fine lace bordering the top band. I can tell from the location that her panties are bikini cut.

"Not bad," Michael comments.

"Care to have a feel?"

Kelly whimpers as Michael slides his hand between her thighs. Even from behind, I can feel how hard she is breathing. He keeps his hand there for a second, feeling around with his fingers. "Hm," he says. "They feel a bit damp."

"Mmmmmm, not as damp as mine are getting, I'll bet." My words are addressed to Michael but they're murmured right into Kelly's ear. I rub my pelvis against her buttocks to drive my point home and press my leg harder in between hers. Blood is rushing to my head. I wonder if he can smell my scent. "I wonder if I'm turning her on?"

With a desperate moan, Kelly suddenly breaks loose from my grip and makes a staggering run for the door. Unfortunately, she's forgotten that I still have the back of her dress in my hand. The sudden lunge causes the zipper to open up all the way, and before I lose my grip I can see the back of her bra and panties through the open back of the dress. They are indeed a sort of peach-beige color in a shade normally call nude. The irony is not lost on me.

I catch her just before she reaches the door and grab her waist in a tackle. She trips on her heels and we go down struggling. I manage to get her on her back and straddle her waist, hiking my own skirt up past my hips. Her legs flail out behind me as I grab the front of her dress and pull it down off her shoulders, pinning her arms at her sides. Her bra is the same color as her panties, and lacy at the cups. One of the straps has come down off her shoulder, revealing the top of one breast.

"Nice try," I tell her, "but now you're going to pay for that."

Part 4

Helplessly pinned, Kelly struggles in a futile gesture. "Pretty bra," I comment. "Did you buy your underwear as a matched set?"

She glares at me. "Let me go!"

"I don't think I can do that," I tell her. "First of all, you flirt with my date. Then you act shy. I think you're basically just a tease who won't deliver." Just to prove my point, I run my thumb over the loose strap of her bra, pulling it down further to expose more of her creamy white breast.

Her defiance cools as she realizes how helpless her situation is. What I could do to her. She freezes, the only motion being the labored rising and falling of her chest. Fresh tears collect in her eyes.

"Mmmm, maybe you're getting just a little bit turned on by this?" I go on, flicking the delicate bra strap back and forth. "I wonder how far I can stretch this before it breaks?" As if to make good on my threat, I stretch the thin strap about as far as it can go, then let go, letting it snap back against her arm. Kelly squirms between my hips in a futile struggle. Her wriggling body rubs against the crotch of my panties, causing a ripple of warmth in my groin.

"Does it feel good to squirm like that?" I ask her. "I'll bet all that rubbing is turning you on, isn't it?" I grasp her bra cup by the lace border and rub it back and forth lightly across her nipple, teasing it, brushing so lightly I can even see the tip stiffen beneath the fabric. I pass my hand over the hardened nub, caressing it softly with my thumb and forefinger through the lacy bra. "You definitely like that, don't you?"

"No," she whimpers, but already her body is betraying her, breaths coming harder and deeper. I continue to gently torture her nipple, stroking it softly through its loose covering. With my other hand I cover her other breast, the one that's still completely clothed. Her other nipple's equally rigid, and presses firmly into my palm. Her back arches reflexively as I manipulate her breasts, and a mottled flush is starting to creep over her face and upper chest.

I'm dying to see if she's as wet as I am.

Michael gulps behind me. I'd completely forgotten he was there. There is an enormous bulge in the front of his jeans.

I take my hands off of Kelly's breasts, noting the way her swollen nipples jut against the filmy lace cups of her pink-beige bra; one breast still completely covered, the other half-exposed. "Not bad," I comment. "I wonder if someone would like a better look."

Part 5

I pull the lace cup down off her breast a little further. Now I can just barely see the outline of her areole.

"Or maybe I'll spare you that indignity for the moment," I go on, purposely ignoring the look of visible relief in her eyes. "Come to think of it, your panties were feeling pretty hot there for a while. Maybe I'll just take a closer look there." With that, I flip around 180 degrees, so now I'm facing her legs, with my ass hanging over her face. Her arms, still tangled hopelessly in her dress, struggle fruitlessly.

Her legs kick out again as I bend over her crotch. Her panties are indeed the same pink-beige – nude – as her bra. Nylon, bikini cut, with a thin lace border around the top and leg elastics. I lift her skirt up higher and tuck it firmly into a roll around her waist. Her panties are fully exposed now, as is her navel.

"Ah, very nice," I say again. "Very feminine. Tell me, are they soft?" They must be, after being worn all day. I brush my fingertips lightly across the nylon covering her mound, and her legs quiet immediately. "Thank you," I tell her. It never hurts to be polite. "Otherwise I might have to ask Michael to open the bathroom door for me."

Defeated once more, Kelly lies still, or as still as she can, given what I'm doing to her with my fingers. Small tremors ripple up her body. Her thighs tighten. I can smell the growing musk of her arousal and I am sure she smells mine too.

All at once I feel a hand creep over my ass and pull up my own skirt. Michael is hovering over me, grinning. His breath caresses my neck as his hand finds my own wet cotton panties and begins to stroke me. I wriggle my hips under the action of his insistent fingers and sigh contentedly. His lips brush my ear.

"No, don't," I whisper, "I need to stay in control." I'm afraid if he makes me come I'll lose it completely, my power over Kelly.

"Oh no," he whispers, "I would never let that happen."

The only sound from Kelly is her breathing, growing harder and harder as her body starts to rock.