Naed Nubile Nieces Nchant Aunt

'Hun, the bars are reopening, let's barhop. I need some fun.'

Tom had been dry since Covid, he nodded. 'So, let's explore.'

She shimmied and hurried to her dressing room to return, almost undressed, in a strapless, red satin, tube-dress with a black, elasticated cinch-waist. Tom's face lit-up. Their eyes brokered a favourite conspiracy. The game was on.

Under a chrome clasp, red laces taught on chrome hooks were visible. He removed the clasp and pulled the laces tighter. 'Breathe in'.

At the limits of her comfort, her hem rose to the border of indecency. On the left, it was knotted just below her hip, the right fell above her mid-thigh, flaunting her wasp-waist and chicken-legs. Flushed with arousal, Tom noted that when she crossed her legs, her hairless and peerless pudenda would be displayed.

'Will my prick-tease experience multiple wardrobe malfunctions tonight?'

She posed, arms akimbo, right hand lifting that side of her hem above the bounds of decency. 'Maybe. If anyone like to look, I show.'

'I'll look'.

She caressed Tom's crotch to confirm his approval. 'Maybe, many guys will enjoy my look.'

'Oh. How many?' He loved her to show off, then, orally, bring her to the edge, and climactically vent his cum laden testicles into her.

Riz looked forward to being nailed to the mattress. 'Many, many.'

So, the tease began.

***

Covid had passed, the nightlife of Walking Street was reviving. Re-opened bars advertised, 'Hiring Dancers'. The old buzz had returned.

A liberal interpretation of the 'no-nudity' rule supported this renaissance. Girls danced in sheer thongs with stickers over their nipples, no nipples and no pubic hair on display. Competitive twerking was the fashionable gimmick to demonstrate nubility to their putative husbands. These expressed their admiration, up close, in cash by threading, 50 or 100P notes into thongs, whilst casually fondling the object of their lust. Happy Days were here again.

***

In Shooters, where Riz worked in the Golden Years of nude and rude, two of her eighteen-year-old nieces were onstage. They waved, then bent across the bar to twerk energetically. Thongs festooned with currency confirmed their reveal appeal. At the end of their set, Tom bought ladies drinks and they chatted with Tita Riz, who relayed salient details to Tom. After one month, each had several suitors.

We'll be buying wedding presents within a year,' he said. 'Lewdness begets lust, begets love, begets marriage, begets babies."

Rhenzie and Syrelle were excited at the prospect. They had favourites, and any would transform their lives.

'Give me a snap for the family album,' said Tom.

'Where?' Riz lifted her breasts out of the tube top and let them settle, displaying her pierced nipples.

'Sit on that bar stool. Girls, stand either side.' Tom took the photo; all with their arms interlocked behind each other, Riz with her dress hitched to expose her intimate sex while the girls, head and breasts held high, grinned brazenly.

Mamasan approached with stickers. 'Really Riz, this is not the old days, put these on.'

'Oh Ok. These are my nieces. How are they doing?'

'They're good girls, hitting their quotas and getting repeat customers.'

'Soon to marry,' said Tom.

'Don't hurry them.' Said Mama, 'Let girls enjoy five years fun before choosing a guy."

Mama wandered off. Tom took another picture. Riz' full, matronly breasts contrasted with her nieces' gravity-defying teen-tits.

'Really. You meet your quotas already?' asked Riz.

'Yes,' said Syrelle, 'Every night we are bar-fined. Tonight, I choose that guy in the red shirt.'

All leaned forward to look at him as he lasciviously scrutinised Syrelle. Riz twisted on her bar stool, splaying her legs. He performatively licked his lips. Syrelle coquettishly waved at him, he waved back, flourishing his hand full of notes. 'See, I know he wants to bar-fine me'

Tom asked, 'Do you girls want five years fun like Tita Riz, or to make babies?'

"I like to marry a guy, just like you, tomorrow,' said Rhenzie.

'Send these photos to your favourite. Say, "This is Aunt Riz, she's 43." He'll read, "This is how I'll look in 25 years after I've nursed your babies. Things can only get better, don't hesitate. Look at the money in my thong, I interest many guys".'

Rhenzie laughed. 'When did you and Tita Riz chose each other?

'At a lock-in, she was nude and very, very rude; I tipped her 40,000 P.'

'GASPS.'

Riz laughed. 'Pay more, gets more,'

'A racy, raunchy bargirl's an appreciating asset,' affirmed Tom.