I had been attracted to him for weeks; he didn't know I existed. This year's final event was later tonight; I had forgotten I needed a costume. I had no hope of finding one for an evening Mardi Gras party.
My skills were called into question. I had several masks and hordes of bead necklaces; after all, celebrating on Bourbon Street during this time didn't require much clothing. Maybe I could conjure up something; I had six hours.
My thoughts were wicked; I desperately wanted him to notice me. Throwing everything on the table, my mind went into creative mode. Beads were the most significant influence in this city; I needed to figure out how to utilize the thousands I owned.
Even though I was rather conservative, I didn't mind showing a little skin when needed; tonight might just be one of those times; after all, I wanted to be noticed, and this was the one time of the year I could get away with it. Since I was relatively small in the breast department, I didn't need much coverage.
Wrapping ten strings around my neck worked just fine. The beads draped over my tiny bumps covering all of them; from behind, it looked as if I was topless. I would have to be careful, though; it wouldn't take much for them to slide to the side, exposing my tiny bumps.
Sipping my gin and tonic helped; my stress level was receding quickly. I needed something to cover my bottom, something festive. Could I make a skirt of beads? After a minute, my brain finally answered as I frantically searched for my narrow black belt.
Fastening it around my upper waist, I took the strings of beads and started working my way around, slipping them under the belt, centering each row, and letting them hang down. It took most, but I eventually reached the starting point again.
Looking in the mirror, I was ecstatic. I twirled around to visualize the effect as the bead-laden skirt swung freely. Each twirl made the beads fling out, showing what was beneath; my panties. I felt the need to be bold tonight, so no panties.
That's better; I loved the sneak peeks of bare skin beneath as I twirled; the airy sensation on my shaved area only enhanced it. A mask completed my costume.
I was fashionably late; most were well into the festive atmosphere, drinking and cavorting. Few noticed me, the topless beaded woman, making her way through the crowd. After several dances, my thirst became insatiable; two gin and tonics satisfied the drought. I was now officially in party mode, searching for him.
