Showing Dai

It had been night when they arrived, a desert night, stars flung across the sky, moonbright shadows picked out all over. Dai slept long and deep, well into the day. When she woke up, she'd heard sounds all around her, laughter, distant music. Tom had come into the spacious RV with coffee, a croissant he'd baked himself, a kiss, and told her it was already past noon. But no rush. As she finished the remnants of the coffee, she felt a note of excitement start inside her. The trip here to Burning Man had been fun, Tom and her stopping at weird little small California towns on their way out to the desert, strange diners, tiny and offbeat museums--the one in Morro bay, the tiny two-room aquarium with the moon jellies was her favorite. But she'd been purposefully avoiding thinking about why they were here, what she was going to do. And now that thought was there. She was here to show off. To perform. To be art and a slut and get fucked and have others watch it. To be on display. She put down her coffee and looked at Tom, smiling.

"Are you still okay with me not telling you exactly what will happen at each show?" He asked. She nodded, "That adds a bit. Yeah. I know you'll do it right." Another kiss. "Pretty soon, too," he said, slowly, watching her face, "Just an hour or so. Is that long enough to get ready?" "If you don't distract me, yeah," she said, and he grinned, "Hands off--for now. I can make sure everything is set up."

He slipped out, and she showered, put on her makeup. Then she carefully took out the harness Tom had gotten her. The thin black straps of fabric looked amazing on her as she pulled it on, highlighting her skin, tight enough to make anyone looking at her imagine how it'd feel to hold her, squeeze her. The harness left her breasts totally exposed, ass barely covered by the tiny black thong. She added black stockings, and looked at herself in the mirror again, and couldn't help from swinging her hips, running her hands on herself, a show for her own soul before others got theirs. Her slim, lithe, brown body, laced by the harness, looked made for sex.

"Just fucking phenomenal," Tom's dark voice said behind her, rich with admiration, "You look so Dai like that. The real you, or an aspect of you" He kissed her, and helped her put on a thin silk robe, covering her "You're ready," he said--not asked. He took her in his arms for a long moment, grip tight.

***

"Welcome, everyone" Tom's voice filled the big canvas tent. The sunlight poured through the fabric, drenching the inside in rich, buttery light. The seating was simple, a semi-circle around the small central dias of redwood raised a little off the floor. There was a simple chair there, and nothing else. Dai stood next to him, the silk robe waterfalling over her body, implying much. People were seated, standing--it was a crowd. Maybe a hundred. She was amazed at how quiet everyone else was, how Tom could just speak and be heard. There were all genders, a diversity of people; it had been advertised with a gif of her dancing, sent out on the events app. She hadn't a clue who would come, but it turned out: everybody. There were men there older than Tom, and there were young women in college t-shirts, fresh and almost dainty, but their eyes huge, hearts thudding as they saw her play out their own fantasies. There were beautifully androgynous humans in lovely costumes, and so many interesting people in the crowd who anywhere else would have drawn the eye but here, everyone was focused on Dai, everyone's minds and bodies were at work taking her in, thinking about her, wanting her.

"Sex is the reason for life. It's why we're here, it's what we want," Tom said, with great pleasure. His hands went to the sash on the robe, untying it: it fell loose. His hands went to the robe at her shoulders, slowly pulling on it, opening it. Tom moved her, his hand on her hip, fingers pushing gently, her body barely needing the prompt. Slowly turning in a circle, as Tom's hands widened the gap of the robe, until she was facing the little semi-circle again. There was a low murmur from the crowd, half-sigh, half-hum, that stopped in a gasp as he slid the robe off her shoulders, baring them. That structure of the collarbone, the delicacy and feminine grace of her, the long expanse of leg and thigh, the change in tone of skin from curve to curve. She was being studied as well as desired, the light through the canvas the perfect paint.The straps of the harness a frame, a support, a focus, and to those who understood, a sign.

Her posture had been perfect from the start, and as she turned they could see the soft brown skin of her stomach, of that softest place between her breasts. She raised her arms, palms up in front of herself, stopping short of cupping her breasts, and he pushed the silk down to her elbows. She smiled from deep inside, and shone that all over the crowd. "Beautiful," Tom's voice murmured low, just for her, and then he bent and picked up the hem of the robe, pulling it up to meet where it hung from her arms. His big body was behind her, part of the frame.

"Your breath is hard to catch right now, I know," Tom said, loud now, for the audience, "I've watched her a thousand times and it's that way for me, too," and Dai could hear that, that desire in his voice, "You can't take it all in at once. Don't try." The music started, then, low but rising. A low, ambient electronica track with hip-hop samples, bass and shush-drums providing a backdrop to his voice. She raised her arms, exulting, and Tom pulled the robe up and over in a flutter of red. A sigh from the crowd. "Start slow," Tom said, his hand going around her, touching her collarbones, "Understand how young and supple she is." He turned her around by picking her up and putting her down again, her back arching just a bit to push her ass out and show it off. "But look at this," Tom said, his hands staying on her shoulders, "Look at that ass. Look at that perfect, tight, feminine, glorious ass." Dai's hand went down to the thong between her legs, took it, pulled it up. The crowd, his voice, the music, mixed with the joy in her like a bubble of light expanding in her lungs. High arousal.

His hand slipped down her shoulder, tracing along the curve of her back, "And while you were hypnotized by that," he said, "You didn't even see how good this is. You didn't start fantasizing, yet, about lying back and watching her ride you," And that was her cue, her body knew it before she did, her hips moving in a circle, dipping. As if her hungry hips were searching. Tom's hand reached her ass, grabbed, but then pulled away. Her hand went to her ass instead, she pulled herself to the side just as he did, the thong not so much hiding her pussy as demonstrating how tightly the fabric was pulled.

"Everyone is looking," he told her, his voice low, just for her. He put his hand on her cheek, smiled, and sat down in the chair.

The music changed: Her music now. Dark, crunchy hip-hop with unabashedly sexual beats. Going from Tom's perfect piece of art to display to her very own self, the dancer in the dark, showing the crowd every bit of lust she felt at home in her own bedroom, when lonely desires are the strongest. She turned, her hands sliding over her breasts, up to her lips, then she let them fall down, diving under the thong. She spun to the side, opening her mouth in perfect timing to a loud moan in the song. The crowd was with her, unaware of anything else. She cupped her breasts again, fingers trapping her nipples for a moment. She tangled her hands in her hair and shook her head, spinal rush of joy.

She turned back, from the crowd, bent over, eyes locked on Tom. Just for him, that little smile, that said, "Yes, Tom, this is what I wanted. Green." She saw pride in his eyes and it was beautiful how hot that was for her, as a crowd of strangers lived for her next moment; his pride met hers. She turned, danced a few steps back, giving the crowd her profile, and starting to make eye contact with them. Dancing closer on the redwood stage, bending shoulders, dipping hips. Hip hop dance moves, but leaning into the sexuality of them. The smile on Dai's face blasting like a cannonball through the libidos of so many. It was frankly unfair, her young body had overwhelmed everyone in the tent, her movements were a narcotic, and then she smiled, and showed profound joy of life, that she knew how fucking sexy she was. Tom, watching, felt a pang of pity for anyone not seeing her move. She saw eyes looking at her that just had pure lust, young men telling her they were going to be fantasizing about her later, stroking themselves to the precise memory of these movements, as she got low and bounced up and down, showing them how you'd be on a cock. And truth be told, this was the best sex of their life for some of these men.. If they were honest with themselves, no fumbled, insecure encounter they've ever had with a girl comes close to this feeling, their cocks rigid, hearts pounding, mouths dry as they watched Dai. As she bit her lip and turned to roll her ass, to look back over her shoulder and show them how it would look if they were behind her.

She spun around and strutted back to Tom, letting him hear her laugh, loud and clear. He reached up but just to put his hand on the back of her head, drawing her in for one kiss. She pulled away, still laughing, and went back to the crowd. A new song, this one with some Indian rhythms in it, as she picked up a gauzy piece of fabric to dance with. In the same motion, she saw a girl in the audience straighten up and take notice.

Big blue eyes in a curious face, looking at her, like from a dream. Dai danced towards that part of the stage, hand going for real down between her legs, fingers splaying over her pussy, trying to stay light and playful but the shock of connecting with this girl, in her mind-blown, exhibitionstic, dancehall state, made it hard. She couldn't look away but she managed to expand her vision, to take in that under those blue eyes this white girl has got a lot going on. She looked back at Tom, flashed a smile, then back at blue eyes. The girl was in a sundress, a big scoop front showing a lot of cleavage, and she's sitting up prim and proper, hands in her lap, mouth open, like she was at church but had just seen an angel. Dai laughed, grabbed her own hair, pulled back hard while keeping eye contact, and saw the girl react as if Dai had reached out and grabbed her. Suddenly, it was all different, even better; she was already an incandescent young submissive sex goddess on display but now she's that, and also seducing this girl.

The music intensified, and the tent seemed to grow smaller, people leaning in, real focused. She slid her fingers on the lush slippery surface of her pussylips, feeling them dewy already. She let her tongue slip out of her mouth in a quick motion of desire and saw the blue eyed girl's gaze intensify. Dai's hand pulled out of the thong and half the crowd groaned in frustration and half trusted her completely to continue the show. She strutted back to Tom, and leaned in to kiss him at the same time she shared those fingers with him. He tasted her as their lips met, she reconnected with him, this older man who had helped her reach these heights of sluttiness, and felt his lust add another kiloton of sexual plutonium to the bonfire.

She went back to the edge of the dias, near blue eyes, and got down to her knees. Hands behind her, she pumped her hips, dancing down low. Tight little movements, pops of her thighs and hips. Holding herself, showing herself, turning over to remind them that her ass is everything. Looking over her shoulder and seeing her girl infatuated, that oh damn the girl was blushing but also fiercely looking, she wanted it all, she wanted every moment of this.

And so they hadn't planned on this being part of the show. Dai kept eye contact with the girl, looking over her shoulder, sliding one hand between her thighs, under that thong, between her pussylips, to her clit. Started the small dance there, as she bit her lip. Waves of passion passed through her body, and the crowd, one might expect them to get louder but they got quieter here, and she started to moan. It was just barely audible over the music, and everyone went quieter still. "Yes," she said, the one word, and she was telling the girl you're right, I want to fuck you, I want to see Tom fuck you, but it arouses everyone who hears it. Then she moaned, soft, floating notes into the gaps in the song, as she shuddered on her hand, half-dancing, half thrusting against her own fingers. How long she was there, how long that lasted as wild music beat against her skin, as she gasped and moaned and shuddered while looking into the deep blue well of a girl's gaze and knowing a whole crowd, and Tom were looking at her, she had no idea, but then it struck, she kept her eyes on the girl for the first explosion of the orgasm inside her but then lost it, her body shaking, head going down to the redwood floor, breathing in that strong scent that forever after she would associate with this moment as she came, beautiful and desired, in front of a room full of people, in front of a man twice her age she fucks and a girl she's going to fuck.

The afterglow was sweet. The crowd was woozy, not frustrated, her orgasm released something for them too. Even the simple white tech bros are just smiling happily, rather than immediately attempting to jostle near her in some attempt to do something. Tom came and put the robe around her, helped her sit up, held her. There was applause, which surprised her enough to make her laugh, burying her head in Tom's lap for a second while he ruffled her hair. That broke any remaining tension, and she stood.

Many people were talking with each other; many more just wanted to tell her something simple before wandering out to process what she'd given them. Something like "You're so damn beautiful," or "I've never seen another woman move like that." A few women asked about the style, the harnesses, whether she'd taken classes or just taught herself. One of the beautiful androgynous types gave her two invitations to a dinner party, and said "Do come dressed absolutely however you like at all, dear, and bring your man or anyone else." Blue eyes hung back, and she could see the grip that shyness had got on the girl-and that she'd come with a guy, who Dai had completely been obviously to while performing.

Tom was handing out invitations to their show later that night. Dai hurried to give one to the dinner-party-inviter before they left, and then turned. She gave two to incredibly surprised young men who had done nothing in particular other than honestly lust after her and not attempt to come talk to her afterwards. If shyness kept them away, so be it, if not, she felt they might be educable.

But that was hardly important. Only one invitation mattered. She walked over to blue eyes, and smiled down at her--the girl was even shorter than her, and it was a pretty-novel delight to get to match that gaze. "Hey, I'm Dai," she said, easily, and leaned forward and brushed a kiss against the stunned girl's lips. "Now you tell me your name," she prompted. "Oh! It's Annie," the girl blurted out, "Sorry just recovering, I guess. I've never been near anything like you, I mean someone like you before." The guy next to her had smiled hugely when Dai approached; that smile was fading fast as Dai's attention stayed focused on Annie.

"Annie, I want you to come to our show tonight," she said, handing exactly one invitation over. Yet still, the guy misinterpreted, and said,"Great!" Dai still didn't bother to look at him, and said to Annie, "The invitation is just for you." And she got an instant nod, before the guy could start looking all shocked, and saying something dumb. She turned away, and looked back and the girl smiled and gave a tiny nod. The guy realized that beefing with the girl who'd just made an entire tent fall in lust was probably a bad idea, and stalked out, clearly expecting her to immediately follow. Instead, she looked at the invitation, clearly memorizing it, and looked back up at Dai and said, "You'll let me in even if I don't have this, right?" and got the nod in return.

After that, she needed a snack and a nap. Tom brought her back to the RV, fed her ramen, laid her down, held her as she rocked into a deep black slab of sleep. She woke in the early evening--their show wasn't for many hours. She found some little savory tartlets Tom had left out for her, and ate them, finding a note from him that he was scouting cool stuff. By the time he was back, she'd gotten dressed in her blue-and-white striped shorts and a thin white top, and was just getting antsy. "Cool shit!" he said, and took her by the hand.

First stop was a nice kinetic sculpture, simple as hell, just a big, three-story ol' lumberjack sawing at a log with exaggerated, semi-pornographic motions. The people running the sculpture powered it by riding some bikes, and had a sign up saying "Lumbersexuals". Dai giggle-snorted, and Tom's arm wrapped around her waist. She leaned into him, sliding a hand under his shirt, feeling the wiry chest hair.

Next he took them to a tiny little pop-up bar where they made cocktails by throwing darts at balloons, liquid splashing down into glasses below. They toasted each other, and then went to the place Tom said they'd hang for awhile.

It was a concert, outdoors in the desert, big fluttering flags defining the dance floor. All acoustic but non the less awe-inspiring for that. There were some big drums here, Taiko drums, as well as an array of others. And people weren't just pounding away, there were complex polyrhythms just from the drums, and she thought this was all there'd be until people started singing with them. People were moving, but just as the drummers were moving their shoulders back and forth, rocking, people were staying in their own space swaying, lifting one foot and putting it down. Just feeling the music, which came so fast, so changing. A big, big blunt, footlong or more, was being passed along and it was held for Dai as she took a big holy dose and grabbed Tom and kissed him hard and blew it in him.

.He took his own, returning the favor, and now their bodies were singing, headrush, boom boom drums moving them. Him behind her, as it should be, her ass against his thighs. Feeling him get hard, up against her back, so quickly. His hands on her arms at first, holding her as she sways against him but it's not long before she gets him to need more. He bent down to kiss her ear, her neck, a buzzing growl as he released her arms and grabbed her again, one hand on that ass, the other on her barely-covered breasts. Okay, people around them saw that, but it's not shocking, others were grinding too. But what nobody else could see was what Tom did next, which was slide his hand down over her stomach, taking his time, admiring every inch as he went, pushing down inside her shorts, inside her thong. She stood up straighter, giving him better access to her young pussy, and was gratified to hear-feel his groan of pleasure against her neck, a little bite as his fingers started to slip along, to spread, to explore, to claim.

She found by rocking just a bit on her tiptoes, his finger hit her clit like so, and she nestled against him in a pose that says yes, like that, keep that up. His body was a big solid wall to push back against, to trap herself against as that insistent hand of his stayed in just the right place. Moving just the littlest bit, up and down, her mouth falling open. She realized she was moving on the drumbeat, that she's an instrument in Daddy's arms, a little thing of pleasure. A submissive angel, fucking herself on his finger. The singers were louder then and she joined her voice to theirs in moans, not afraid, caring of being seen or understood. Let anyone know she came here tonight, that after conquering she conquered. And with Tom's hard cock a burning lance against her back she came there, a crowd around her, a wash of voices singing.