Pennies In The Slot

I met her in a disco on a Greek island, dancing with a bunch of other British girls; but when I moved in on her, she seemed happy to ignore them, and as time went by her girlfriends faded away with other partners.

She was only about 5'4", several inches shorter than me; wearing a short lightweight wrap-around summer dress that showed her figure and lovely legs off very nicely. And as I watched her dancing, I realised that the material of the dress was very light indeed, perhaps more so than she realised; her underwear showed through it quite clearly when the disco's follow-spot swung across her briefly.

I could see then that she was wearing a small white bra that only just contained her nicely rounded boobs – not huge great melons, but certainly a nice handful. On the other hand, her panties were quite conservative-looking – pale coloured, as far as I could tell from that quick flash of light, but cut pretty much like schoolgirl knickers, covering her bum (and other bits) completely.

She seemed happy to dance with me. After a few tracks the music slowed down, so I opened my arms to her, to suggest that we have a smoochy slow dance; and she smiled at me and moved into my arms, wrapping her own arms round my neck.

We moved in time to the music, at first fairly decorously, more or less at arms' length from each other. But when the beat changed I took the opportunity to pull her closer to me, and she came willingly, tightening the grip of her arms round my neck to pull my mouth down to hers for a kiss – and her mouth was open, with her tongue poking into mine.

My cock, which had been getting definitely interested in the proceedings, suddenly jerked to attention. She was standing almost sideways on to me, but she must have felt the movement. She giggled and bumped her thigh gently against my groin, pushing against my erection. So OK, she was aware of the effect she was having on me, and enjoying it … I let one hand slide down from her waist to her bottom, gently stroking her butt cheek through her skirt.

She turned back to face me full on again, and moved her hands to hold me round the chest, under my own arms. … and pulled me against her, grinding her pubes against mine as we danced. Hmm. Yes, definitely interesting!

Next time we changed positions a bit, I let one hand come round to the front, and stroked gently down her breast with the back of my hand. She shivered appreciatively. "That feels very nice … you can keep doing it, if you like – but make sure nobody sees!" So saying, she squeezed my bum with one of her hands, and ground her pubes into mine again.

I kept on stroking her tit, and soon her nipple was starting to push out hard enough that I could clearly feel it, even through her bra and dress. A moment later she grabbed my hand in hers, and put it inside her dress top (I mentioned it was a wrap-around, didn't I?) so that I could squeeze her tit with a bit less material between my hand and her flesh. I willingly accepted the invitation!

My other hand was back in the middle of her back, stroking up and down her spine. I kept catching my fingers against the back fastening of her bra strap, and suddenly she asked, "D'you think you can unfasten that, through my dress?"

No sooner said than done! I may have mentioned it before, but unfastening a girl's bra one-handed, through her dress, was something of a party trick of mine; however, this was certainly the first time I'd had a "victim" who actually asked me to do it. I fiddled for a moment, and sure enough it soon unhooked.

The girl grinned at me, then said, "Now put your arms right round me", holding her own arms in front of her as she did so. I did as she asked, and she managed some interesting gymnastics. First she let her bra strap slip off her left shoulder and down her arm, then, as I kept my arms round her to guard her from public view, she pulled the strap right down her arm through the loose sleeve of her dress, off over her hand, then pulled it back inside her dress again under her arm. Then she slipped the right strap down her right arm, pulled it free of her with the other hand, and handed the end to me, saying, "Just pull this out and pocket it, will you?"

Sure enough, as I pulled it her bra came out of her sleeve, so as she had asked me to do I slipped it briefly into my pocket.

"Ooh, that feels better – I should never have put that one on, it was much too tight!" she muttered. "Right, now I've got less on there, you can put that hand back to keep me warm, if you want!"

Blimey! Talk about a tart! Still, I always try to comply with a woman's desires, so I did as asked, and put my hand back – this time on her bare boob inside her dress, doing my best to "keep it warm" as asked.

"OK, you're getting a grope of my chest, now it's my turn!" she giggled after we'd danced like that for a few minutes. She started to unbutton my shirt. Luckily, we were currently in a fairly dark part of the dance floor – but there were people all round us, and I was sure one or two of them must have seen her getting out of her bra, if they'd realised what she was up to. Still, nobody seemed to be objecting, or even staring too obviously, so I relaxed and decided to go with the flow. She gradually worked her way down my shirt until it was almost completely unbuttoned. "Mmm. I do like a hairy chest!" she murmured in my ear as she slid a hand into my shirt in turn, and leant her head against me.

Oh, my! Having stroked my chest a bit and got Percy even more excited, she put her hand round my waist inside the shirt, and slipped it down under my waistband to have a feel of my bum cheek!

Well, what's sauce for the goose … I moved my own hand inside her dress below its belt, and groped her in turn, through those rather staid and proper knickers. Funny, they felt rather odd, almost like a sort of lightweight woven material. "Ah, this isn't fair, is it", she said. "I can grope your bum inside your pants, but you can't get at mine properly … tell you what, I bet you can get me out of these knickers right here on the dance floor, with nobody noticing!"

"Pardon?" I was gobsmacked, to say the least!

"You heard – what'll you bet me that I can help you get these off without anybody noticing, and without us leaving the dance floor?"

I pulled back from her and looked at her a moment. No, she wasn't especially drunk, she seemed to mean it … but I was damned if I could see how she could win that bet. And it certainly wasn't the sort of bet I might normally expect to hear from someone I'd only met an hour or so ago, and whose name I didn't even know!

"OK, you're on. If we can do that, you can claim a forfeit off me in turn!" I grinned.

She smiled in turn. "Sure?"

"Yes, sure. Go on, tell me how you're going to do it."

"Oh, I'm not going to, you are … and it's dead easy. These knickers are made of paper, like J-cloths – you only have to pull at them hard and they'll rip apart.

"Just dance so that I've got my back close to the wall, then reach under my skirt at each side, get a firm hold, and pull hard – they'll just tear, and you can pocket the evidence before anyone notices, as long as you're quick!"

So that was the explanation of the strange texture I'd noticed – now that I thought about it, it was a bit like a J-cloth or something such. So as she'd asked, we danced around till we were close to the wall with her back to it, while she watched the crowd behind us, around my chest. As she'd suggested, I had my hands under her dress, holding the sides of her panties, and waiting for the word.

"Right", she whispered, "now, there's nobody looking at us. Go on, quick, before someone turns our way or I lose my nerve!"

So, with a little prayer to whatever god of horny women might be watching, I gave a sharp tug as instructed. The material resisted at first, but then I felt a small rip and suddenly I was holding two bits of what looked for all the world like pale blue J-cloth, and my date was standing there grinning at me.

"Whoops!" she said, "I think the gusset's still in place – you obviously haven't had enough practice at this!" She reached quickly down between her legs and handed me a final piece of (slightly damp) paper cloth. "There, put them in your pocket, quickly, and let's get out to dance again. But you'd better be careful not to lift my skirt – I don't want to get arrested!"

Well, that might be a bit difficult to be sure of – the skirt was only about 2" below "C" level, as they say – she'd have to make sure she stood pretty straight if she didn't want to show too much of her charms to the world. I pointed this out, and she grinned. "Well, we'll see. I like to try to pretend I want to be decent, anyway. And as long as I keep facing you, if anyone sees the edge of my bum they'll think I just got a thong wedged in the crack!"

Maybe she was right – and maybe not. Still, there was only one way to find out. I waited for a moment while she readjusted her dress to make sure it was well wrapped – and realised now what I hadn't spotted before: it was now only staying closed because of the belt; she'd undone the buttons some time during the last half-hour or so. To all intents and purposes, this little tart was dancing in a negligee!

And then I realised that I still didn't know her name. "Er – should we introduce ourselves, do you think?" I asked. "I can't just call you Knickerless!"

"Mmm. No, I think not. I rather like the anonymity, actually. If I don't know who you are, I can let myself be really daring with you!"

Wow! If this wasn't "really daring", dancing in a mini-dress over nothing, what was she thinking of getting up to next?

We moved back out onto the main part of the dance floor. The music was quite lively again, and we started to dance apart again for a while – so I got to study her, trying to work out just how much I (or anyone else, for that matter) could see, now that I knew there was nothing under that dress.

The dress itself was, as I already said, a sort of chiffon material, and at the back it was pretty near translucent – the material had a big pastel flower print on it, and this meant that anyone who didn't know probably didn't realise from behind that she was naked under it. And in front it did seem to be slightly more substantial, so maybe there were two layers there. But knowing as I did that she had nothing on under it, I soon realised that I could see her nipples and areolae quite clearly. Unless you were looking hard, though, the darker patches just looked like part of the pattern. I was looking hard, to be sure; but still nobody else seemed to have particularly noticed her state of dress.

After a while, I think she decided that things needed livening up some more. When the next slow number came on, she pressed up against my chest, then put both arms round my waist inside my shirt. A bit blatant, perhaps, but it was getting later and we were hardly the only couple who were snogging a bit on the dance floor.

"Put your arms right round me again for a minute, you big lunk!"

I did so, and she wriggled a bit, moving back and forth against my chest; and I realised that she was making the edges of her dress pull aside above the belt. Sure enough, a moment later, she had her bare tits pressed against my chest, though she was much too tightly up against me for anyone else to see (thank God!)

"D'you like this?" She grinned up at me, grinding her pubes against my thigh. "I'm a right little slut, really, aren't I? But I do like doing this – making out with a complete stranger in public is a real turn-on. Look what it's doing to me!"

She moved away from me again, quickly pulling her dress together again to hide her boobs. She nodded down at my thigh where her pussy had been pressed, and I could see (and feel, now she wasn't pressing against me) a definite damp patch! Bloody hell!

"Christ, woman, you'll get the pair of us arrested at this rate!"

"Oh, I don't think so, not as long as you don't call the fuzz!" She grinned again. "And I can see you're enjoying this too – your little friend doesn't look very little to me!"

Sure enough, I had something of a tent pole in my trousers by now, and realising that she was enjoying looking at it, I pushed my groin forward to emphasise the effect for her.

"Mmm. That's as nice to feel as it is to look at, and I intend to get it inside me tonight, I think. There you are – call me a slut if you like – " she paused, and looked at me expectantly, …

"Er … pardon?"

"Well, I'm acting like a right little slut, aren't I? So go on, tell me I am. Go on, please?"

Weird. Well, OK, if that's what she wants … "Er, right. You are a little slut, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes, I am. Go on, tell me just how naughty I'm being – I like it when you do!" Looking round to make sure nobody else was looking, she slipped a hand briefly inside her dress and tweaked a nipple.

I decided to get into it, if that was really what she wanted.

"Yes, you're a real little slut. Coming on to a complete stranger in a disco, getting him to help you practically undress here in public, and now starting to flash your tits at me right here on the dance floor!" (Well, she hadn't actually quite done that yet, but I could hope … yes, sure enough, it worked! As I said that she grinned, loosened her belt slightly so that the dress hung looser, and leant forward so that I could clearly see a boob for a moment.

"Yes, I am, aren't I? D'you like it?"

I was getting into the swing of this. I nodded. Clearly, she was getting off on my playful insults, and acting up to them, too. I kept my words fairly quiet so nobody else could hear us, but made sure that she could, as we danced opposite each other again. "You really are a cheap little tart, you know. You said you want my cock inside you" (I motioned down to my prick where it was pushing my trousers out) "and that's exactly what you're going to get, in a little while. I think you should show me your pussy now."

And she promptly did – pulling her dress apart below the waist, she smiled and gave me a quick flash of her furry friend.

"Now come on, slut, and press that tarty little body up against me again!"

And she came to me, like a bee to nectar. Clearly my insults had turned her on even more; she was adjusting her belt again, and this time she knotted it properly so that it wouldn't slip free, but left it fairly loose. What this meant was that her dress kept starting to slip open, and she kept having to pull it closed again – but she was letting it go further and further each time, and pulling it back together more and more carelessly. Surely she'd be noticed soon!

And sure enough, she was. Another couple who were dancing near us were whispering to each other (well, he was whispering in her ear), and she looked round and saw my little tart flashing a tit, just before she pulled her dress closed again. This other girl's eyes went round with surprise, but she didn't say anything – she just pulled her own boyfriend tight against her, and kept dancing but with her eyes glued on my partner. I don't think her boyfriend was too happy at this – he kept trying to turn round to sneak another peek himself – but she wasn't having any, and insisted on staying in a position where she could see us, and he couldn't.

My little sex-bomb, meanwhile, had noticed this other girl's gaze, and once she was sure that she wasn't about to be tattled on, she started to positively preen under the attention. The next time her dress slipped open again, she just let it slide, until it got so open that I (and the other girl) could quite clearly see her furry pussy for more than just a moment – then she pretended to notice, mimed a big "Ooh!" as she looked down, and quickly pulled it back together – but then gave the other girl a wicked little grin.

We continued dancing. The other girl finally let her boyfriend have an occasional glance at my bird, and they stayed close to us, obviously turned on by what my bird was getting up to. Ah, yes, very turned on – she got her boyfriend to shield her for a moment from the view of the rest of the dance floor (except us), unfastened the bottom two or three buttons of her blouse and tied it sling-fashion under her tits, then undid the rest of the buttons so that it became a tie-front instead of a button-front. And she managed to do that without letting anyone (but us) see anything we shouldn't!

Now I realised that another young couple on our other side had also noticed what my little tart was up to, as she flashed varying amounts of herself again when her dress "accidentally" fell open. Before long, we were the centre of a small cluster of people, all of whom were watching her performance avidly. And she was loving every bit of it.

"You dirty little slut," (she seemed to like that word) "you've got half the place staring at you now, and I reckon most of them have seen your tits. Whatever next?"

"What do you want me to do? You name it, I'll do it. I don't think these people seem to mind!"

And I had a funny feeling she was right. There were now about four or five couple surrounding us, and I realised that they were quite carefully positioning themselves so as to shield her from view from the rest of the dance floor – since she was quite short, this was fairly easy.

"What shall I make you do, slut? Hmm. I know. You seem to like letting these people see your tits – let's give them a proper show, shall we?" And I grabbed hold of the shoulders of her dress and gently pulled them down her arms (slowly at first, in case she'd object - I didn't want to get done for assault if she changed her mind!) A moment later and the dress was down to her elbows, leaving her boobs completely open to view to all those around us. She danced for a while, letting her tits jiggle around for everyone to admire, then dropped her arms for a moment so that the sleeves slipped right off them and the top hung outside her belt, and she was effectively wearing the dress as a simple skirt. She raised her arms above her head and did a little pirouette, which earned her a quiet round of applause from those around us.

Of course, we couldn't stay unnoticed by the rest of the dancers for ever, and before long we were quite the centre of attention, as people (especially blokes, of course), tried to move up closer to get a look at her tits. But she didn't seem to mind at all. I guess she had decided to just go for it, and wait to see when and if anyone would complain.

Once it seemed clear that nobody was going to protest, one or two other girls had started to fiddle with their tops – it's amazing how some people don't like to be left out of whatever's going on, especially when they're a bit drunk. My partner just stopped giving any attention to who was looking or where we were, and we danced around at will, with her completely topless. After a while, even the DJ noticed, and gave us a big thumbs-up.

While I was grinning back at him, I noticed her fiddling with her belt slightly – oh, Christ, now she was pulling the front of her dress apart again! Once it had started hanging as a skirt, it had stopped trying to part in the middle; but apparently she'd decided that wasn't enough.

Of course, it might also have had something to do with another girl dancing past us topless as well – I had the idea my slutty little friend didn't want to be outdone.

Sure enough, before long she'd slid the dress round so that its wrap-around front was now at the side. Then she pulled it open about 6", to reveal her thigh – and incidentally to clearly demonstrate that she had no knickers on, although all anyone could see was the side of her thigh. She danced back towards me, yanked my shirt out of my trousers, and pressed her naked boobs against my chest; then, when I put my hand on her waist, she wriggled slightly to invite me to slip it inside her skirt and fondle her bum. So, of course, I did …