In my previous tale about the joys of 'High Heels Day,' I realized that I never let you all in on any of the typical scenes from that special day. Ten or so naked secretaries acting as models, totally there and bare for the enjoyment of our best salesmen. Well... bare except for their high heels! I will describe one brief memory before I go on to the wonders of 'High Heels Night:'
Imagine sitting around a conference table with at least ten other men, and usually at least one saleswoman. We've all been introduced to these incredibly naked ladies, each one of them displaying varying comfort levels with their constant nudity. Some are 'oh my god: I can't believe I'm doing this!' others are 'I shaved for you down there and I dare you to look!'
The sexual tension in the room is palpable as the door opens and, not one or two but three nude women stroll in. One is carrying a tray of coffee cups with the usual accessories, the other two hold the door for her and then stand at opposite sides of the table, striking pretty poses.
Now each naked lovely moves around the table, approaches each salesperson and asks: "what would like with your coffee? Milk, cream or sugar?"
They are of course bending down ever so slightly. Their breasts are dangling at eye level. And they're standing back just far enough for one's gaze to briefly drop to their furred -- or furless -- slits.
We all have to bite our tongues as those innocent words 'milk, cream and sugar' take on such other, not so innocent connotations in our dazed minds.
But I digress...
I couldn't expect High Heels Day to remain a secret. All of that eye candy naked female flesh was, after all, a much sought after reward.
As company president, I soon heard that there was quite a buzz developing about what we would do to top High Heels Day at our annual awards ceremony. I was actually unprepared for that, but soon my remarkably dirty mind came up with some very entertaining ideas.
We rented a building with just the right sized auditorium, facing a stage with dressing rooms in back. There were fifteen tables seating up to six each, but I guess about 75 people were there. Salesmen and saleswomen with their spouses or dates, chattering with anticipation at what totally inappropriate naughtiness was about to ensue.
I had models walking around the tables throughout the night. Our theme was going to be minimal clothing, or the total lack of clothing, so I had them model our 'Teenie Bikini' line.
As I described last time, these swimsuits were hardly more than tiny cloth triangles connected with floss-like strings on top and daringly cut thongs as bottoms. Our latest innovation was in fact a choice of 'daring' coverage or 'regular' coverage for each size. 'Daring' came with this disclaimer: 'these bottoms are designed to only cover the average width of a woman's 'special area.' Please check local customs and regulations before wearing!'
I wondered if there were men who wandered into women's specialty shops just to read our labels.
Some of my floor models got together and suggested they go 'European style' -- topless -- toward the end of the night. I really appreciated their enthusiasm but I sadly had to say no. I was putting on a show, a show which was going to gradually feature more and more delectable female flesh as the night wore on. I didn't want anyone distracted from the stage by any bare boobs, freely bouncing around on the floor.
I watched nervously from behind the curtains backstage as everyone enjoyed their catered meal. I wasn't nervous about speaking in front of a group: I just wasn't sure how my addition of female nudity to the usual fun and games was going to go over. High heels day was a bit private; I was now taking the company kinkiness public.
Once everyone was done eating I got the usual introductions of new employees and then the boring secondary awards out of the way.
My floor models assembled backstage and I saw that many people noticed their absence and started talking excitedly. The program listed 'A very intimate fashion show' next up and I was quite relieved that my audience was ready for some intimacy.
I had seven models that night, all of them veterans of High Heels Day and somewhat used to nudity. I said 'somewhat' as strutting around on stage in front of at least 75 people -- not to mention the catering staff who had gotten wind of the show and were gathering in back -- was a different, scary experience.
My girls came out from behind the curtains stage right wearing an assortment of our unabashedly daring party dresses. Our version of the little black dress was an extreme micro mini. The hemline ended at crotch level, and there was no way to avoid displaying panties... which is why the dresses were sold with matching black thongs.
Our other item on display was our Flouncy Party dress. It was a one-piece outfit consisting of a tight bustier on top, bare shoulders, connected to a short skirt that was designed to stick out like it was starched. Underneath were layers of lacy slips -- also attached -- and of course the poor girl's panties were always visible. We recommended our prettiest laciest white panties to go with that look.
It was amazing to watch these beautiful models parade in front of all of us in these panty-baring outfits. It was even more amazing that there were actually women out there buying and wearing them.
When each of my girls was nearing her exit -- curtain stage left -- they would coyly start to undress. Zippers would come down, buttons unbuttoned, until their clothing was almost falling off.
As the last of the partially dressed models disappeared behind the curtain, there was a palpable sadness in the room. Until I leaned into the microphone and said: "Now for part two!"
One by one my girls reappeared, the ones who were Flouncy now boldly without tops, only their pretty panties. They all shyly covered their breasts until they stopped center stage and then dropped their arms, turning around and giving everyone a full view. And the audience went crazy.
We had a special surprise: the models in our micro black dresses were even bolder: they had on open black bras matching their thongs that revealed bare nipples clasped with dangling silver pendants. Open bras and nipple jewelry were both new 'adult' items we were adding to our collection.
The audience was so crazed that I think I could have asked the ladies present to please take care of the nearest gentleman and some would have complied.
Then in keeping with our stripping theme, each girl started pulling down her panties as they neared their exit, giving the very appreciative audience a very special last look.
Once each model went behind the curtain, there was a brief pause. Then the girl stuck her head out, waving her pretty panties at the crowd in a last goodbye.
I'd like to say that each one of my girls got a standing ovation, but I was sure, looking around, that there several males in the audience who just couldn't bring themselves to stand up at that moment.
Now was the time for out major 'Salesperson of the Year Award.' I deliberately sandwiched it in between our last two bits of what promised to be adult entertainment as I didn't want anyone leaving.
Lest anyone wonder what was meant by "Charity Fashion Auction" in our program, there was a helpful guide as to minimum bids for every article of clothing from blouse and skirt or dress, down to panties. No, there was no doubt about our enticingly naughty intentions, and I swear there were more men in the room then we started out with.
I looked in the back of the auditorium and noticed that the entire catering staff, including men who should have been cleaning up back in the kitchen area, were now very present and eagerly watching. The word must have gotten out during our little striptease fashion show, and not a male in the building was going to miss the next and final act.
Marguerite, one of my favorites and a veteran of High Heels Day, came out from behind the curtain to hand me the envelope -- very Oscar-like -- and stood back to one side, smiling.
She was wearing our micro black dress and her very sexy appearance got a round of applause. Marguerite was one of the girls that I had gone a little too far with during our private prep for High Heels Day. I would like to say there were no hard feelings, but I always felt hard when I saw her.
She loved being naked and thought it was her natural state. So she was going to be perfect as the 'volunteer' whose clothing was going to be auctioned off for charity. Although she had never gotten naked for this large a crowd, she was clearly excited. I noticed immediately that I would have to change the pricing structure: unlike our prior models whose legs were bare, she was wearing black, thigh-high stockings that would have to come off first.
The fact that she didn't go backstage but just stood there, looking positively edible, was not lost on our audience. I could see that they were already checking out the merchandise -- as well as her clothes -- and were already trying to calculate when and how much to bid and when.
Then I opened the envelope and announced the top salesperson of the year and everything changed.
It was a woman named Jackie, and as I scanned the room and saw her getting up from her table, I mistakenly dismissed her at first as a 'big girl.' Wrong. The more I looked, the more I liked. Jackie defined the word 'statuesque:' I was 6' 2" and she was nearly my height in heels. I guessed she was about 5' 10" in stockinged feet.
There are women who are only 5' 2" or so who nonetheless have perfectly proportioned, nicely curved bodies. With Jackie there were simply more curves to love, and much longer legs leading up to those curves.
As she got closer, I stopped mentally undressing her for a moment as I admired her choice in clothes. Like every saleswoman there, she was entirely dressed in clothes from our line.
Her powder blue blouse was nice and form fitting, with plenty of visible cleavage. This was from our more mature or less daring line called 'Special Lady.' Our lingerie in this line was, of all things 'Intimate Lady.'
As I said, all our blouses were a bit tight and quite low cut. If you didn't want the valley between your upper mounds on display, you had to buy from someone else.
Her skirt was a pleasant surprise. At first it looked like a knee length skirt with long, multicolored stripes. It was actually two inch wide, individual pieces of soft fabric that were only sewn together at just below panty level. As a lady moved, it was possible that her legs would be bared, quite possibly up to her thighs.
And that's exactly what I saw as she climbed the stairs just to my left. With each step: each of her long strong muscular legs was bared to mid thigh. She caught me staring and looked down to see what I was seeing. Then she looked back up at me and smiled.
I became her biggest fan at that moment. She was probably in her early forties, and she was a strong, sexy, confident woman. She knew she still looked damn good and she loved it that I was looking.
