"Mmmm, there they are, my dashing men, all nice and ready for me. Let me just do this one thing, then I'm all yours...."
Flashing us a flirty smile, Angelina squeezed out a dollop of jasmine-scented glitter lotion and began smoothing it up and down her shining thighs.
Freshly showered and made up, she was absolutely radiant in her new stretch-cotton t-shirt dress. Simple yet sexy, it was solid black and whispery thin. That slinky little thing hugged her every curve, and the darkly exotic flair of her long raven hair complemented the black of the dress to give her an alluring, witchy look. Perched as she was on the edge of the bed, her supple legs extending to the floor, she was pure glowing desire.
Steve and I were standing directly before her, and she was treating us to a hypnotic view of her tantalizing pussy through her sheer g-string panties. Grinning mischievously as she raised one knee at a time to smooth the fragrant cream onto her calves, she showed us just how thoroughly see-through her black g-string really was.
Mesmerized, Steve stood transfixed by the sight of her tempting pussy.
Angelina's knowing grin grew even sexier as she continued to paint creamy fingertips up and down her flawless legs, making her golden skin glisten. Slowly caressing all the way to the tops of her thighs, she lingered very near her warm, wet treasure. She was teasing his eyes, her bewitching smile an open invitation to savor the view between her partially spread legs.
I gave her a smirking look, as if to ask,
"Panties? Really?"
Parting her thighs in response to Steve's hungry gaze feasting on her gorgeous pussy, she laughed at my dubious expression. "Oh, waaah, you big baby! Jeez, I only wore these for trying on clothes today. You know the salesgirls will sometimes insist that customers wear panties to try on certain things. That's also why I wore this dress: easy access. It goes on and off in two seconds, and it won't leave any binding marks on my skin."
After brushing her hair a final time, she slid on a pair of strappy black heels. With the way the various straps snaked up and around her slender ankles, the effect was something akin to a really wicked Vestal Virgin.
Shooting us a provocative grin, she stood and did a captivating twirl. "See? No silly VPL's...."
No, there really weren't. With her tiny g-string making only the faintest of impressions well above her smooth bottom, she appeared to be naked beneath her dress. The soft, stretchy material beautifully described her lush curves, especially where it dipped into her deep split. Twirling for us in the morning sunlight, she certainly looked like she had no panties on. Her ass was covered, yet every detail was richly evident; no skin tone showed through, and still she seemed deliciously bare.
"Feel. It's really nice..." she grinned, setting our hands on her sexy bottom.
I immediately began to fondle her incredible ass, and Steve gave it a tentative squeeze before stroking down to her thighs.
Watching as we caressed her legs and ass, she fixed us with an accusing smile. "I meant the dress, not me, you goofs."
Steve blushed, but he didn't pull his hand away; looking up, he saw that she was still smiling, so he kept stroking her. I kept at it as well, lifting the hem on one side to where I could see and feel her bare skin while also fondling her covered cheek.
"Doesn't it feel like me?" she asked, flashing another sexy grin. Encouraging us to help ourselves to her beautiful bottom, she playfully wiggled her hips.
Yes, the fabric was so soft and fine that it truly was like touching her bare flesh. I could feel her warmth through the thin material.
"Here, too. Feel..." she smiled, leaning back against me while bringing our hands to her breasts.
"God, that's awesome," Steve said, grinning as he hefted her amazing tits.
"This is a great dress, isn't it?" she purred. Cupping her hands over ours, she had us give her firm mounds a good squeeze. As she arched her back to push her erect tips into our palms, she moved her ass in slow figure-eights against my hardening cock. Following the rhythm of her circling hips, her unrestrained breasts danced freely beneath her modest neckline. Her dress wasn't low cut at all, yet it didn't matter. Her tits looked just as naked as her ass, her nipples every bit as obvious as they were in any of her thin t-shirts.
Laughing, she twirled again for us, making her perfect breasts sway and judder spectacularly.
She was absolutely stunning.
"So, what do you think?" she giggled.
Steve blurted out excitedly, "God, I absolutely love your breasts. In that dress they're just...and your legs...and your beautiful hair! Angie, look at you! Fuck!"
Beaming as she stepped into his eager embrace, she brought his hands back to her ass. "I think that's
your
job, sweetie," she answered, arching her back for him.
No longer hesitant, he dove right in, squeezing and fondling her lush, round cheeks, and she moaned into his mouth. Turning to give me a teasing kiss, she added a coy grin. "And what about you?"
Like some medieval lord passing judgment on a serf's request to marry off one of his daughters to the local blacksmith, I patted her dancing bottom and proclaimed, "This garment doth hereby meet my approval!"
~ ~ ~
It was late in the afternoon before the three of us finally arrived at our destination. Steve was anxious to show Angelina his latest discovery, an unusual outdoor swap meet that specialized in all manner of theme-based clothing and accessories. There were various sombreros and ten-gallon hats on display, as well as armored suits, medieval swords, maces, shields, and the like. Doing a quick scan of the place, we saw tents set up for Western wear, Goth fashions, and Native American paraphernalia.
Offering something for everyone, there was an endless variety of wonderful, kitschy stuff.
"Since we're dressing me up for a Stevie Ray Vaughan concert, what do you think about maybe checking out some cowboy clothes?" she suggested.
"I don't know, baby," I said. "Stevie Ray does blues rock, not Country and Western. He tends to dress more like Hendrix, not Hank Williams."
"Well, still, he always wears Texas things, like cowboy boots and big belt buckles. Let's at least see what we find."
"Fine by me," added Steve. "Maybe we could find you a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader outfit!"
Laughing, we popped into the tent set up for Western wear, where right away we were pounced upon by a comic-book character of a sales guy. He was dressed from head to toe in garish cowboy garb, and he made a beeline for us--well, for Angelina, anyway.
"Howdy, folks! What might you be looking to rustle up today?" he boomed, offering his hand in greeting. "Name's Hoss," he said, shaking my hand, and, yeah, the name fit. He was a big guy, loud and friendly.
After Steve and I introduced ourselves, Angie offered her hand to him. "I'm Angelina," she smiled. Rather than shake her hand, he gently kissed it. Giggling, she curtsied for him, and we all got a kick out of the whole goofy charade.
"Charmed, lil' lady. So what can I do ya' for?" he grinned, speaking to all of us at once.
"We're looking for something really cool and sexy she can wear to a concert tonight," I explained.
"Shy and demure soccer mom sexy? High class, formal affair sexy? Or maybe roadhouse sexy?" he asked.
Grinning like idiots, Steve and I were both about to say something, but Angelina beat us to the punch. "Roadhouse sexy. Definitely roadhouse sexy. I'm thinking, oh, maybe something along the lines of
Dukes of Hazzard
sexy. I want something drop-dead amazing that might at least give me a chance of not being ignored all night at the concert."
"
Dukes of Hazzard
kinda stuff, you say? Yep, I reckon we can fix you right up. Darlin', you just follow me. I got a few ideas."
Leading her away, he seemed quite pleased with his sudden stroke of good fortune.
Most of the merchandise was in the middle of the tent, lined up in rows of wooden racks. Over in the corner, next to the cashier's table, was a little booth set up to serve as a changing room. It looked like a makeshift outdoor shower stall, with Texas flag 'drapes' offering only about the same coverage as a bath towel tied around a woman's chest. The insufficient width of those flags meant there was also a good three-inch gap on either side of each drape.
"I'm thinkin' this might be a good place to start," he said, handing her a pair of Daisy Duke cut-offs and a thin, red and white checkered long-sleeve blouse.
Holding it up, Angelina noticed the blouse had no length to it. Hoss told her it was designed to be tied together, not buttoned.
"Looks cute," she said, heading into the changing booth. Seeing her only from the shoulders up, we all watched as she peeled off her t-shirt dress and hung it over the railing. We saw her slip on the new top, then her hands started working below our line of sight.
"Where are your mirrors?" she asked.
"There's just the one out here, over by the boots," said Hoss.
"Okay then, here I come...."
Sliding the drape aside, she stepped out.
Hoss let out a long whistle of approval. "Damn, darlin'!" he said, grinning from ear to ear.
Giving him a friendly smile, she went over to check herself out in the full-length mirror. As she stood stretching and turning, she wore a serious expression.
The top revealed a very nice expanse of smooth cleavage above the loosely tied knot, and it certainly showed off her tanned, perfect stomach. The Daisy Dukes were fairly revealing too, exposing a few inches of bare cheek below the properly frayed edges. In addition to leaving two buttons undone she'd also folded the waistband over, making those tiny cut-offs ride enticingly low on her hips. With her g-string peeking out and her high heels showcasing her long legs, she looked absolutely incredible.
"So, what do you guys think?" she finally asked, turning to Steve and me.
"What do
you
think?" I responded.