The White Overall

Then he started a complicated turn pattern sequence. The left halter slipped off her shoulder. She tried to pull it back, but he only squeezed her hands harder to show his displeasure at how little she was following. He wanted to do another turn that would tie their arms into a knot. He wouldn't let go of her hand to adjust. At first, the top stood up because the jeans fabric was pretty sturdy, but then the whole overall started slipping down her body on that side. With agony, she felt a quarter-inch slip. She tried to free her hand again only to be met by his growing ire at her indolence. The overall slipped another quarter inch on that side. She felt distressed as she realized that the overall was no more than a tube around her body with little to hold on except for the last halter.

With the next glance around the room, she could tell that she had an audience of a few people intensely staring at her, eager to see if her overall would slip the very last bit. They seemed spellbound to watch a tragedy unfold. She felt even more embarrassed. The instructor mistakenly thought that his moves were impressing the people and tried to add on. Part of her areola was showing. The very last shred of the top was covering the nipple. That's when her mind snapped - snapped into submissive space. She felt that tingle of being surrendered of allowing treatment to happen to her of losing her own will. It's a weird thing. You don't like being bossed around. And you don't like being bossed around. Suddenly, a little more bossing, and it feels good. It feels good to give in.

He noticed her front. He let go of one of her hands. She pulled the halter back up. However, her movements had become soft and surrendered. When the next guy pulled her into an embrace, she allowed herself to melt into it. When she felt his legs between her thighs from the close embrace, she allowed her pubic bone to grace the front of his thigh. It felt good. She rubbed herself on him. The dance had become sexual. He knew it. He allowed her to hug him tightly, breathe his smell from his neck, and gently grind her pubic bone on her hip. Then he pulled her off into some footwork patterns to not make it too obvious to everyone else. She looked at him with bedroom eyes, longing to be back in that warm spot on his body with the pleasure from her groin rubbing on him.

Her seduction by the testosterone and dance increased. As she was with the upper mid-level dancers, she allowed both halters to come off her bare shoulders. She no longer cared about keeping the front over her nipples. She let her body go to dance with the music. She let the men worry about keeping the front up. She let them catch glimpses of her nipples from the right angle. They were delicious, fully-shaped nipples. When her boob seemed to slip out, she took no action to cover up. She let the guys tug on her overall to keep her covered. She gave them the attitude that she was completely melted into the dance and no longer cared. "Let 'em flow freely" was her bodily expression in how she moved. And the guys knew that their honor would be destroyed if they allowed their partner to get exposed. Secure in that knowledge, she dared her boobies to pop out by ever more winding her body, rubbing on his body so that the overall would get pulled out of place. A dangerous game of creating more opportunities to get exposed while they struggled to keep her modest.

Erections were pressing at her when they were in close embrace or when they hugged her from behind in shadow position. "Cocks! Cocks all over!" was her slutty thought. She longed for Juan to dance with her, but she was stuck in the upper middle tier of dancers. The women near the DJ were too good at their game of dancing, dressing up with makeup, and teasing the guys. She felt a cock pressing between her butt cheeks. She looked at Juan slowly caressing down the body of a nubile woman, a slender black woman with the dress of a competitive samba dancer at the carnival, while he held her in a dip nearly on the floor.

Her partner held her in a close embrace now. His arm was around her back to pull her in tightly to keep her chest still while they bounced the hips side to side. She liked the pressure on the clit. Despite him blocking her back high, she let herself drop backwards. Her front stuck to his shirt. She slipped her overall down as she leaned back. She was fully exposed with both nipples - actually the whole breasts! He quickly threw his body on top of hers to over her. They almost tumbled over with so much weight forward. He didn't even have to look. The whole dance, she had acted with such abandon that he knew she wouldn't cover up. He covered her up with his body. His body clamped down in panic on hers. The shock and terror of a teenager being caught doing something bad shot into his bones. She let herself lean back to bare her boobs freely, relishing the moment of liberty and his submissive panic.

The move was so surprising. Nobody had noticed.

She knew that it was time to go home. She couldn't risk getting any more frisky. She was hot, horny, and bothered. She had gotten rid of the edge. She felt mollified and luscious. She was ready to be the furtive mouse again and do pointless research tasks in the basement.