Karen stood behind the stage curtains with six other women she had never seen in her life. What the hell am I doing here, she was thinking over and over again. How could I do this to myself? I just came in to have a few drinks last night and then I saw that damn flier and talking to the bartender...
Her mind racing was interrupted when the evening's MC came backstage to talk to the seven gathered women. It was obvious that at 45 years old, Karen was the oldest of them, but fortunately she looked good for her age, or at least that's what the younger guys who hit on her always said. The MC spoke to the group.
"Alright, how many of y'all have never done a contest here?" Karen and three other women raised their hands.
"Okay, here's how it goes. We'll call you by number from left to right. Step forward, wave to the crowd, blow kisses, whatever you want to do. After that, we'll get you out front again and spray you down. When it's your turn, you can do almost anything you want but there are a few limits. Don't put anything inside yourself, don't put anything inside of each other, don't touch each other or anyone in the audience. Stay on the stage. You can take off anything you want or leave it on and it's okay if you throw it into the crowd. But don't expect to get back anything thrown; that'll be up to the person who catches it. You can show off everything if you so choose. After everyone's gone, we'll tell the crowd to cheer for the person they think is the winner. The security guards at the front of the stage will decide the winner. First place gets 300 bucks, second and third get free drinks for the rest of the night. Everyone got it? Good. Get ready ladies."
He left and the seven women lined up. Looks like Karen was going to be number 3 tonight. She couldn't believe it. All those fantasies she had about doing something like this were about to come true. All the times she wanted to be naked in public, or bend over and let people look down her shirt or up her skirt, or take off all her clothes in front of a group of people. She was nervous, but was going to do this no matter what. Tonight, Karen was going to be in her first wet t-shirt contest.
The whole thing was a spur of the moment decision. She was down here in Key West for two weeks alone to help heal after her second divorce. She had braved it enough to go to the beach in a bikini, but wasn't interested in going to a nude beach. She would be just another face in the crowd and what she really wanted was to have her body sexualized by a bunch of men looking at her. She wanted strangers to see her as an object, to stare at her and to feel the eyes on her naked flesh. When she went into the bar the night before, she saw the flier for a wet t-shirt contest and talked about it with the bartender. After getting the details, and almost without thinking about it, Karen had signed herself up to compete. Tonight, she had come back to the bar, been led to a room to change into the clothes she would wear for the contest and now waited to go onstage and in front of the crowd.
She looked at the other women competing. All looked like they were in their 20s, but Karen looked good for her age. Her long brown hair didn't show any signs of gray yet, her skin was free of wrinkles and men were calling her sexy all the time. She also did not have any tanlines, thanks to hating the look of them and owning your own tanning bed. She was fit, due to her slight addiction to exercise and desire to go to the gym every day. Her breasts were still firm thanks to her care for them and daily olive oil massages and her ass was perfectly round. While she was too old to be doing this, she knew she was going to give these younger girls a run for their money.
Her outfit was just right for the night. She had gone out that morning and bought a white tank top for the contest, then found a pair of scissors at the hotel's business center to make her modifications. She had cut off enough of the fabric to expose her slim belly and a bit more cleavage than she'd usually show off in a bar. She had cut and tied it enough in the back to tightly hug her firm breasts. An old pair of jeans that had been ruined her first day here had been cut into very short cut-off shorts, fortunately tight enough to hug her curvy hips and expose her long, smooth legs. Looking at the other women, they were mainly wearing bikini bottoms and various cut-off shirts.
