Jill was a tall, willowy brunette with a decided penchant for exhibitionism. One of her best friends was Steve, who owned and managed the Pink PUSSYkat, an upscale strip club. One aspect of their relationship was that Steve, who fancied himself a sort of big brother to Jill, was continually trying to fix her up with someone he thought would be a good match for her. At least the men he introduced her to were interesting, if not always ones Jill would have picked out for herself. The latest call went like this:
"I have a friend, Jeff. We've known each other for years. He was seriously seeing a Chinese woman who was over here studying American business methods. They were together for nearly two years, but about six months ago she had to go back to China, nothing she could do about it, and so they broke up. This may seem that it's coming out of left field, and it may be either none of my business or a stupid idea, but I've thought this past week that you and Jeff might hit it off.
"Here's the situation. I'm working on opening a second Pink PUSSYkat up the coast. I'm going to have to go out of town a lot for a few weeks, maybe several, and Jeff's going to watch the place here for me when I'm away. Eventually I'll have to get a full-time manager, but things aren't to that point yet. So Jeff's agreed to keep an eye on things for me. I'm leaving Saturday morning, and Jeff's coming by the PUSSYkat on Friday night to get cued in. I thought, if you're interested that you might want to come by, maybe about eleven p.m. or so since he and I will be pretty well finished with what we need to do by then. Either something will come of it or it won't, but I thought you might like to come by and check Jeff out." Steve chuckled. "I know Jeff would be more than happy to check you out!"
When Friday night arrived Jill considered carefully what to wear and then worked to give her ensemble a "special" touch. She got to The Pink PUSSYkat at just before eleven to find the parking lot nearly full. Inside, there didn't seem to be an empty seat in the place. Two topless dancers were dancing with abandon on the runway and getting a very enthusiastic response from the huge male audience. Jill made her way carefully among the tables, trying not to bump into any of the several scantily-clad waitresses or the men who were standing up or moving around for a better look at the dancers. She was able to navigate her way to the bar without incident, although a few of the men called "Hey, Baby" or "Hi, Good Looking" as she passed them. No one tried to grab her, and none of the comments sent her way were too rude, and she realized that Steve's place not only did a great business but that the patrons were rowdy but fairly well-behaved.
She found Steve sitting at the end of the bar nearest the stage, in conversation with another man seated next to him she supposed must be Jeff. She walked over and tapped Steve on the shoulder. He turned and when he saw who it was, promptly got up and gave her his seat. He greeted her and introduced her to Jeff, who acknowledged the introduction with obvious pleasure. He was a good-looking man, well built with humorous eyes and a nice smile. Jill ordered a margarita and Steve got it for her.
Jill learned that Jeff had known Steve since high school, that they were close friends, and that Jeff (which she already knew) was going to be keeping an eye on the place for Steve during the next couple of weeks. He told her that his "real" job was working as an architectural engineer, a term she wasn't familiar with.
"I'm the guy who figures out where all the plumbing goes," Jeff said with a laugh. "It's not very glamorous. What I really do is work with the architect and the builder first to see that the building design conforms to the requirements of its purpose for power, water, structural requirements, etc. Then I work with the builder to make sure that everything that's constructed conforms with the plans, agrees with the building codes, stuff like that. It's as much a blue-co1lar job as a white-collar one and the money is pretty good. Guys like me say the architect gets all the prizes and we do all the real work, but that isn't true. Most of the design stuff is done on computers now, so my main job is in the field working with the hard-hats. I like it a lot." They talked some more, and Jeff became more obvious about looking Jill over.
Jill was basking in Jeff's attention. She was wearing a thin black semi-transparent blouse with large pockets placed strategically over each breast. Her black bra showed through the blouse but not where the pockets made the blouse opaque. The first two buttons of the blouse were open, almost but not quite revealing a glimpse of her bra. She also wore a mini-skirt with tiny black and white checks and a row of buttons from waist to hem. The skirt stopped at mid-thigh. She was bare-legged and wore black sandals.
She watched until she decided that. Jeff's interest was centered solely on her and not on any of the dancers who seemed to parade on and off the stage in a continuous stream. Jeff was leaning closer to her as they talked. She casually crossed her legs and a button on her skirt popped open, causing the skirt to gape at the top of her thighs. Jeff's eyes widened, and he suddenly had nothing to say.
"What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" teased Jill, knowing exactly what was drawing Jeff's attention. She wasn't wearing panties, and the gaping skirt demonstrated the fact conclusively..
"Ah, your skirt..." Jeff began.
"What about it?" Jill was really drawing this out. She looked down as if noticing the open button for the first time. "Oh, you mean the button." Jeff nodded. "It took me six months to train that button to do that." Jill laughed at the surprise on Jeff's face. "Well, no, actually it only took a couple of minutes."
"You mean you really 'trained' the button to do that?" Jeff asked in amazement.
"Sure," Jill answered casually.
"I think I need a fresh drink," Jeff stated. "How about you?" Jill agreed, and he ordered two more margaritas. After they took a sip from the newly-filled glasses, Jeff asked, "Would you mind telling me how you go about training a button to do that? Call it professional curiosity from one engineer to another." Jill chuckled.
"It's easy. Look. I'll show you." She reached down and opened the next button down the skirt and held the edge of the buttonhole up a bit, causing the skirt to gape even further. She relished Jeff's intense interest in what he was seeing. Jeff watched in fascination as Jill put the tip of her little finger in the buttonhole and twisted it back and forth several times. The skirt widened as she did this, revealing more of her thighs at their juncture with her hips. She withdrew her finger and looked critically at the buttonhole.
"Not quite yet," she commented, and repeated the process until she was satisfied that the buttonhole was stretched to the degree she wanted. She uncrossed her legs and buttoned both buttons.
" Are you ready for the great experiment?" she kidded Jeff.
"Oh, you bet. I'm always interested in learning something new about design stress. Might be useful information in the future," he grinned.
"OK, then, here goes." Jill slowly and elaborately crossed her legs. Both buttons came open and the skirt gaped widely. "I'd say that was a success; what do you think?"
"Definitely," Jeff agreed. "I'm certainly satisfied with the results. "
"The real trick is to stretch the buttonhole enough so that the button will open when there is a little stress put on the skirt, like crossing my legs, but not stretch it so much that the button won't stay closed when I stand up. But that's really difficult, and I bet I overdid it. Let's see."
Jill uncrossed her legs again, buttoned the buttons, and stood up carefully. The buttons popped open immediately. The skirt lay flat against her thighs as she stood without moving. She looked down.
"See, that looks all right, even with the buttons opened. But watch!" Jill took a few steps backwards and the skirt opened with every movement. She stepped forward and the same thing happened. She shrugged and resumed her seat, the skirt gaping even more.
"Any questions?" Jill inquired with a smile.
"I know you wore that skirt with Steve in mind..." Jeff began.
"Never assume," Jill responded. "That might not be the case at all. In fact, Steve told me I might meet someone here tonight, and that's why I wore it."
"That puts an entirely different light on the matter," Jeff said with enthusiasm.
