Vanessa at the Bachelor Party

"You want another?" Joe asked, reaching for her glass and rising from beside her.

"Um, yes please." she smiled.

When he walked away Chris moved over to take his place next to Vanessa. Being bolder than Joe, he sat with his arm nearly touching hers, making her extremely aware of his proximity. After a couple moments she felt the alcohol doing its job, helping her nerves to calm down. Returning, Joe handed her the fresh drink, a sad look crossing his expression with the realization that he'd lost his spot next to her. As he took a seat on the other couch Vanessa took a sip of the fresh drink. This time she did make a face, Joe's pour proving heavier than all the others. Still, before she knew it, she'd managed to down half of it.

During this entire time she'd fought the urge to dance, ignoring the call of the music coming from the TV. But then she heard the first notes to one of her favorite songs and she could no longer help herself. Setting her drink down, she leapt up and rushed around to the table to grab Tom's arm.

"Dance with me, Honey," she demanded.

One of the things she loved about her husband was that he never refused to dance with her, never made her beg or cajole him into it. And this time was no different. Grinning sheepishly, he allowed her to pull him from his chair and dutifully followed her to the room's open area. Vanessa didn't care how well he danced, only that he accompanied her to the dancefloor where she could let the music move her body. And it did. In enticing, provocative ways . . . her hips rolling . . . her body gyrating . . . her long hair swaying.

When that song ended and the next started, she immediately found the new rhythm, keeping him with her. This song's beat was more pronounced and her gyrating body matched it, her actions growing more provocative. Then, about halfway through, Jason surprised her by stepping in. Lost in the fun of dancing and with a good buzz going, she'd basically forgotten where she was, but his appearance reminded her and she suddenly felt self-conscious, realizing how she'd been dancing. Yet, she wasn't about to stop. Instead, she simply calmed her actions slightly. Glancing around, she saw the other men watching her, their eyes sparkling hungrily. The self-conscious sensation didn't fade, but it did transform; changing from embarrassment to excitement and her body simmered with a flowing warmth. While her movements didn't quite return to the same suggestive level, they did approach it again.

Jason cutting in led to some of the others doing so also, and Vanessa danced with each of them in turn. Swaying to the music, she focused on maintaining what she considered acceptable sexuality, but it got harder and harder to do so as the warmth flowing through her grew, creating certain sensations and causing her to drift into a kind of steamy haze.

Lost within this mist, she nearly slipped into Chris's arms when a slow song began.

As the opening notes played he stepped to her, his hands settling on her hips, and she moved to fold into him, to mold her body to his. Then she saw Tom watching her from the couch out of the corner of her eye and she shook some of the haze off. Remembering where she was again, she stopped herself by lifting a hand against Chris's chest.

"Tom's turn," she told him.

Chris politely turned away and her husband dutifully rose from the couch. As he joined her she saw a gleaming anticipation in his eyes being replaced by disappointment and she briefly wondered what it was about. But then he was wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into him, and the question dissipated into the haze. With a contented sigh, she molded her body to his and rested her head at his shoulder, luxuriating in the heightened warmth created by being in his arms. Gently swaying to the music, her breasts pressed against him, she felt the twin mounds pulse with an ache . . . felt her embers sizzling with a building desire.

"So, what's with the outfit, Babe," he whispered partway through the song.

"Huh? Oh, um..." she sighed, leaning back to look at him. "I... um... I had a little surprise planned for you."

"Oh?" His eyes grew wide with excited curiosity. "What kinda surprise?"

"Um... a private strip tease and lap dance." Her cheeks reddened with the confession.

"Wow. That's amazin'."

"I hoped it would be," she whispered, her voice wavering with uncertainty. Like the burlesque routine, she'd never done anything like the one she'd planned for him and, unlike the other one, she hadn't been able to ask her girlfriends for tips. So, while she was willing to give it a go, she also worried about how good it'd be.

"Don't tell me you doubt your talent," he grinned.

"Well, a little."

"Well I know you'd be great," he assured her. Then his expression turned curious. "But I gotta ask, these shorts look awfully tight. How were you gonna get out of them?"

She hesitated in answering, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

"Babe?" He pressed.

"They're... They're tear away shorts," she explained, immediately asking herself why.

"Really? Wow. You really went all out."

They were quiet for a moment and the song came to an end, another fast one starting. Instead of pushing away from him and moving to the faster beat, Vanessa clung to him for a minute, luxuriating in the feel of her body pressed to his.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand and walking over to the coffee table where he picked up the remote and muted the TV.

Standing next to him, her hand in his, Vanessa tried telling herself she didn't know what he was doing, but she knew better and her nerves tingled excitedly.

"Hey guys! Listen to this," he started. "My beautiful wife here planned out a whole other routine just for me after the party!"

His announcement was greeted by several hoots of approval and encouragement.

"She was gonna do a whole other strip show," he continued. "And a lap dance."

The hoots grew louder, more approving.

Vanessa's cheeks grew red with embarrassment as she reflexively glanced around at the men. The ones that'd been playing poker moved over to stand behind the couch separating the living room from the dining room so that eight sets of eyes were hungrily devouring her. Instantly the warmth flowing through her grew hotter and strong, tropical breezes fanned the embers within her loins making her flesh simmer under the shirt and her legs grow weak within the stockings.

She told herself this was just a reaction to being the center of their attentions . . .

That it was nothing more . . .

Then Tom said something that she denied expecting him to say . . .

Denied hoping he would . . .

"But it seems she's worried she wouldn't be good enough and I was thinking that if she did it for everyone, we could let her know just how great she does."

"What?!" Vanessa balked, turning to stare a hole into the side of his skull.

The proposal was greeted by a chorus of agreements and encouragements.

"No. No. I don't think so," she said, pulling her hand from Tom's and raising both to ward everyone off.

"Ken here is a regular at the local clubs," Bill announced. "He'd be a great judge."

"I knew he was the real pervert here." She pointed a finger at Ken and tried to scowl, but for some reason her lips curled into a little smile all on their own instead.

"Come on Babe, it'll be fun," Tom coaxed, putting his arm around her.

"You're a bigger pervert than him," she chastised him.

"Only for my sexy wife," he acknowledged with a wicked grin.

"Yea, well, Mr. Pervert, you can forget it," she told him, trying to convince herself that she didn't secretly want to do what he was asking.

"They've already seen you," he pressed. "And you were so great at that. Plus, what would really be different about this?"

"Come on, Ness. Show us what you can do," Jason urged, standing behind the one couch.

Turning her gaze directly on him, she tried glaring, but the soft spot in her heart she had for him kept it from being very reproachful. That soft spot had a way of letting him talk her into doing things that Tom instigated and she silently cursed herself as her resolve waned.

Then the room slowly filled with everyone chanting her name.

Her mind shifted into overdrive, agreeing that it wouldn't be much different than her earlier show and that she could do it while keeping it from being too risqué . . . that if she limited the lap dance to Tom -- and Tom only -- it would be okay.

That's what she told herself.

"Ok. Ok," she said, holding up her hands again to quiet everyone. "I'll give you a sample of what I was gonna do."

This was met with a round of applause and happy cheers.

"Just a sample," she insisted with as stern a tone and expression as she could muster. But she was still trying to convince herself that she wasn't tingling with anticipation over the prospect of what she'd just agreed to do.

"That's fine, Babe," Tom nodded.

"You turn off the TV and go sit over there," she told him, pointing to the couch on the right. "Where's my phone?"

"Right here," Charlie told her, picking it up from the poker table.

Meeting him halfway, she took the phone and opened the folder with the music she'd prepared for the private show. Noticing her fingers shaking, she realized her nerves were starting to bother her. Getting her drink from the coffee table, she downed it in a single gulp, once again hoping the alcohol would help. Walking over to the TV stand, she set the empty glass down then turned the phone's volume up and started the music, setting it down next to the empty glass.

Then she closed her eyes and stood with her back to the room as the music slowly seeped into her psyche, making her body start to sway. It took a minute for the music and the alcohol to calm her, allowing her to turn around and strutt to the center of the open area where she rolled her hips and torso, her body gyrating to the beat erotically, her hair swishing with her motion. Running her hands over her body, she explored her curves. This time it was different than in the earlier show during which she'd been highlighting her curves under the dress. Now she was touching herself, caressing her body sensually.

Just below the music she heard quiet groans of appreciation and she opened her eyes. The men were all staring at her . . . their hungry gazes mesmerized by her swaying body and exploring hands.

A massive wave of excitement rolled through her, making her embers sizzle, their heat radiating throughout her body. And her hands reflexively grew heavier . . . rubbing at her breasts through her clothes . . . her fingers pressing at her sex through the shorts. Her movements grew more provocative too, her body gyrating with a building definition.

The music she'd put together was a group of songs, each one blending into the previous one so there were no moments of silence. And like her earlier routine, she'd set cues within it to let her know when to remove articles of clothing. She was supposed to tear off her shorts first, but when the cue sounded she couldn't do it. It wasn't the idea of them seeing her in her panties that made her hesitate. They'd already seen that and, again, these panties were basically the same style as earlier. It was her awareness of her body's arousal . . . the fear that the panties would again be damp and they'd see this.

She didn't want that.

Not again.

Still she wanted to do something . . . wanted to be exposed in front of them. The thought briefly surprised her but she quickly brushed it aside, enjoying herself too much to worry about such frivolities.

Deciding to improvise, she brought her hands to the shirt's top-most hooked button and undid it with a teasing motion. Her fingers moved down to the next . . . then the next . . . and the next, undoing each one in the same fashion while holding it closed with her other hand. When the last one was undone she grabbed one shirt flap in each hand and made a show of opening and closing them, flashing her bra-encased breasts.

The act was greeted by cheers and applause.

Then she let the shirt hang open and strutted around, her hands once more exploring her body until the cue sounded for the lap dance to begin. Sashaying her way over to Tom, she slid into his lap, straddling him with her knees bent on the couch cushion, her hands on its back. Grinding atop his crotch, she did her best to continue moving in a dance-like fashion, rolling her torso . . . making her tits sway . . . her hair swish. She was fairly certain she could feel his semi-hard cock under her, but he was sitting up straight so she wasn't squarely on his crotch.

Around her she heard the men cheering her on.

When she'd agreed to do the show she'd figured on opening her shirt and probably removing it, but intended on keeping her bra on. Sure, the guys had already seen her tits, but her nipples had been covered by the tassels then, whereas if she removed it now, there'd be no tassels. But as she sat there with all of them watching her grind atop her husband's lap, the desire to expose her breasts cascaded through her.

After a couple minutes she gave in to the urge.

Leaning back, she brought her hands to her breasts. After cupping and playing with them for a moment she used one set of fingers to unhook the bra's front clasp and jerk it away, raising her hand into the air, the bra dangling from it.

The cheers grew louder throughout the room and the two guys flanking Tom broke out with wide grins as they stared at her bare breasts. Tom's hands came up and reached toward her tits, but she playfully slapped them away.

Sliding off him and the couch, she stood up and turned toward the other couch and the men standing behind it. Tossing the bra onto the coffee table she lifted both arms above her and gave everyone a view of her breasts as they rolled with her body's motion. Then she scooted back so that she was again straddling Tom, this time with her feet on the floor and her back to him. Smiling at him over her shoulder, she lowered her ass onto his crotch again. He'd slipped down in the seat so that this time when she ground herself on him she definitely felt his hard cock through their clothes. Her embers sizzled hotter and she ground against him harder, thrilled by the feel of him beneath her. The heat building within her loins made it so that, after a couple minutes, she had to force herself to pull away and stand up.

She started strutting back to the center, intending to give them a few more moves before ending the show. Among the cheers and applause, a few of the men yelled for her to give Bill -- the groom-to-be -- a lap dance and she reflexively glanced over at him. Sitting at the center of the other couch, flanked by Frank and Chris, he had the same sweet smile that Jason used to get her to do things she didn't want to and she couldn't stop herself from making her way over to him. As she did, his smile widened and his eyes danced with glee.

Turning her back to him, she rolled her ass a few times before lowering it onto his lap. Like Tom, he'd slouched down so that her ass made direct contact with his crotch and her breath caught as she felt herself grinding atop his rigid manhood. Glancing over at her husband she saw him watching her with a sparkle in his eyes and a grin on his lips. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest with the idea that he was enjoying watching her give another man a lap dance. The heightened excitement coursing through her body frightened her a little and she quickly stood up to turn around and drop face forward onto Bill's lap. Her intention was to stop looking at her husband while giving Bill a proper lap dance.

But her intention backfired.

Jason and the other two guys standing with him had taken a couple steps back from the couch and as she settled onto Bill's lap, her hands holding the back of the couch to support her, she found herself staring right into Jason's eyes. The excited sparkle in gaze nearly mirrored Tom's, only with an added eagerness that caused her breath to catch.

Closing her eyes, she tried blocking the image out of her mind as she leaned back and jutted her tits out while swaying her body and grinding herself atop Bill's crotch . . . his hard cock. But she wasn't able to block out the image and behind her closed lids she still saw Jason standing there, watching her. Within her loins her embers grew into red-hot coals, their heat making her flesh simmer with arousal, and she slipped into a hazy trance, continuing to grind on Bill for longer than she'd intended.

The feel of his hands on her waist snapped her out of the trance. Her eyes shot open. Before anything could cause her to hesitate she pushed against the back of the couch and quickly climbed off his lap.

The four other men on the couches were calling for her to do them next and the others were cheering supporting encouragements. But Vanessa had every intention of moving to the room's center and ending the show with a few last moves.

Until she looked over at Jason.

Instantly the thought that this might be her one and only chance to really tease him . . . to dance with him . . . for him . . . in a sensual, up-close way . . . raced through her mind. So instead of ending the show, she strutted around the couch to him. As she approached, he turned to face her. Standing with only a foot of space between them, she put extra effort into the gyrating of her body . . . making her breasts roll for him . . . her hips twitch enticingly. Like Tom, he was several inches taller than her, even in her heels, and he gazed down at her, his eyes devouring every twitch and jiggle. With her embers now blazing she put her hands on his chest . . . ran them up onto his shoulders . . . down his arms . . . over his abs . . . back up to his chest.

Seconds later her gaze instinctively dropped to his crotch . . .

Her breath caught when she saw the bulge straining his jeans . . .

And her hands reflexively followed . . .

Her heart skipping a beat as they brushed across his hidden manhood . . .

She hadn't done it intentionally, but now that she had she couldn't stop herself from rubbing at his bulge . . . her fingers trying to grip it through his clothing. Waves of desire rolled through her . . . electricity sparked along her nerves . . . and she slipped into that hazy trance again . . . her body and hands continuing their actions on autopilot. Tearing her eyes away, she lifted them to his and their hungry desire caused her heart to race.

A wave of cheers vibrated through the trance. Among them was Tom's voice saying "Do it!" Thinking he was talking to her, she struggled to understand what he meant.

But he wasn't talking to her . . .

He was talking to his best friend . . .

Jason reached out and grapped the sides of her shorts. Venessa reflexively took a step back from him just as his hands jerked at the velcro holding the shorts together and the tear-away shorts tore away. Stumbling backward a few steps, her mind reeled with what he'd done . . . how he'd reveled her panties . . . panties that were likely damp with her arousal.

As if in confirmation of this, the cheering grew louder . . . more enthusiastic.

Standing a couple feet before her, Jason wore a sadistic grin and his eyes sparkled mischievously as he held the shorts up. Beside him, Charlie and Ted's eyes devoured her. And behind them, all the other men were staring with excited smiles, having stood up to watch her dance for Jason. Tom was among them, his expression mirroring his friend's.

Fine. You wanna play that way. She thought, realizing it'd been Jason he'd been encouraging to "Do it," and not her. He wanted her prancing around in front of everyone in her panties. Of course, he didn't know she was wet, or that her panties were damp. Or did he?

The question echoed in her mind, threatening to weaken her resolve to make Tom sorry for what he'd done. But she quickly brushed it aside and steeled her nerves for her next move.