Stephanie froze up, and embedded her top teeth into her bottom lip hard enough that she might have drawn blood. So someone had figured out her cheeky little secret. A
man
, no less.
It had started a couple of hours ago, back in her suite at the Auream Grand, when she had been studying herself after putting on the silk gown. She had gawked at the image of the stunning woman in the mirror, and became anxious when she observed the lewd peek the gown afforded at her chest from the side. "I'm going to be glad for my mask," she murmured, and she checked out the rest of her figure. Her hips looked good, and her stomach was flat. Her butt poked out just the right amount, except...
"Oh, fuck!" Her panty lines were beyond obvious beneath the thin, pale violet fabric. She had spun about to assess the damage from every angle. It was a total disaster! "Shit! Now what?" Unfortunately, this was one of those moments where it didn't help that the young woman had led such a prudish life.
"I'm sure this didn't happen last time!" And then she remembered. Last time, she had worn a g-string. One of those ridiculous scraps of fabric that was meant to pass as underwear, but weighed maybe one ounce, and flossed the wearer's butt crack and lady parts with every step. It had been the first time she had worn such a thing, and also the last. She didn't even own one anymore, and they didn't exactly put complementary sets in hotel room drawers, like conveniently folded up next to the Holy Bible.
Isabella!
That girl had known all along! She had even mentioned something about the knickers Steph had pulled out, but the naive girl had dismissed her friend's concerns without even understanding what she had been getting at. It was a little too late when Stephanie thought to retrieve her phone from her handbag. She had a good mind to blast Bella for not warning her properly, or, she would at least ask for advice. It was switched off. From the plane. Still. Stephanie turned it on. After gaining reception, there were a few beeps. Two messages.
hi hi! Lily here. Just tried 2 call u n Anne, she missed the plane can u believe? U must have made it. So jealous, i kno wat room u got coz i booked it! U got it to yourself now? OMG u shud def bring some1 home ;););) stagnant Steph lol
Didn't want to say anything before or you'd miss your plane, but first thing you gotta do when you land is buy a g-banger to go under that gorgeous dress. Have fun babe will pick you up tomorrow arvo xxx b
"Shit, why didn't I test this earlier!" Stephanie was so frustrated with herself. She was incredibly organised in all facets of her life, and this sort of thing just did not happen to her. It was 6:53pm; the ball was to start in mere minutes! She looked at herself in the mirror again, and frowned. Under the delicate, light coloured fabric, the pantylines might be discernable even from the other end of a mood-lit room. No good. She brushed her hands over her tapered waist, down her hips and over her butt. And she frowned. It was like the difference in caressing the soft coat of a new puppy, to rubbing your hand over sandpaper.
With an obvious no-go on the full brief cotton-bottoms, Stephanie reached under her long dress, hooked her fingers under the panties and pulled them down to her ankles. She stepped one leg out and kicked them out of the ensuite in frustration. She rushed to the bag sitting on her king bed, and emptied the contents out as if ransacking her own things.
No good. There were two other sets of panties in addition to the ones she had been wearing today, but they were all basically the same. There would have been no point trying them on, and in any case - she was out of time. "Shit, shit, SHIT!"
But then, in the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of something surprisingly sexy. It was reflected in the mirror that dominated the wall opposite the bed. Her own sweet posterior, sticking out suggestively from her bent over position. Though she didn't normally show it off, she was secretly proud of her derriere, and her strong, medium-sized thighs. She knew well enough that hers was a healthy shape, and she was happy to owe it to all her hard work pushing out endless squats in gym classes. Each cheek was rounded and toned, and about the right size for a large-handed man to grab the whole thing with outstretched fingers.
Stephanie marvelled at how the silk of her tight dress followed every curve with perfect accuracy, and swallowed back her nervousness that the exact shape of her butt cheeks was easily discernible. It was already gathering in her ass crack, and without supportive pants, she knew her gait featured just a playful little jiggle at the bottom of her trunk. Technically most of her skin was covered, however, it would be obvious to anybody who looked that she didn't have panties on.
That's why a thong would work, dummy! No one can tell what you've got wedged up deep in your behind! However...
And that's when it occurred to her, that the reverse should also be true. If people are used to
not
seeing any sign of underwear with formal gowns, wouldn't they just
presume
the presence of some skimpy, low profile covering underneath?
Stephanie bit her lip - a nervous habit she had developed, and one that would repeat itself tonight each time her mind went to her underwear problem. She had already vowed to get her sexy on for this event, but wasn't this going a little far? In any case, her options were poor. Stephanie bent over further, testing how the garment rode up her legs. Her dress was long, and even the split leg on one side only reached just above her knee. She wasn't really at risk of flashing anyone, even if bending over a little. She would just have to be sure not to fall head over heels with her legs splayed out (yeah, right!)
She ran her hand over her pubic bone. The material of her gown was so thin, her own caress was enough to tantalise the just-waxed skin surrounding her vulva. If she still had any pubic hairs, she would have been able to feel them through the silk. "God, I'm as good as naked!" How unfair it was, that she should feel that way, despite her gown reaching from neck to toe!
"Ok..." Stephanie declared with a strong resolve, albeit hindered by a kind of thrilling consternation. There was a special term for this, an expression she doubted she had previously uttered in her lifetime. "Commando it is!"
"Hey!" Mia had materialised nearby, and smacked Brad's arm where it reached many inches lower down Steph's back than it should have for Argentine Tango. The man released her and held his hands in a show of surrender, grinning. "You're not even funny, you perv! God, you do this every fucking time, I can't take you anywhere!"
Brad took the tongue lashing without argument, but then he grabbed Mia's hand, and tugged her hard towards him. Their faces met, and Stephanie witnessed another heated kiss between the passionate pair. It was brief however, ending when Mia brought her knee up hard into his groin.
"Gah! Ah!" Brad stumbled and grimaced, while Stephanie watched on in fascination. Perhaps that's what she should have done, before he had worked out her little underwear problem. He reached for Mia again, but she had already turned, and was stomping away. Steph felt very embarrassed. She was sure it was not her fault, but she seemed to have inadvertently started a lover's quarrel. She was about to apologise to Brad, but then she saw the look he was giving her. It didn't matter that he had a mask on, she could see his eyes. He was still a predator, and she believed beyond any doubt that he was undressing her with those calculating eyes, his lips contorted into a one sided, lecherous smirk.
"Thank you for the dance, little witch," he had maintained his confidence to the end. He bowed slightly, and then headed off after Mia.
Alone once more, Stephanie decided it was time for a visit to the ladies room, even though it would send her in the same direction Brad had just gone. She had two private matters to attend to, the first of which she could thank all the champagne consumption for. She walked slowly, very aware of the cool air flowing into the split leg of her dress and caressing her bare, exposed vulva. Very aware of the wetness that lubricated her thighs with each small step.
For the second time that evening, she meandered down that eerie, narrow corridor. The door to Natalie's makeshift studio was half open, and the sounds of women giggling caught Stephanie's attention. Two guests were inside, one, a plump looking blonde in blue, who looked very amused. She was perched on the armrest of the sofa, sipping from her champagne flute. The other looked uneasy; flushed. She stood with her legs awkwardly apart, and Natalie's camera was set up between her feet... pointed upwards. She wore a yellow party frock that flared out loosely over her thighs, stopping at knee length. There was a flash, as Natalie appeared to operate her equipment remotely from her laptop. The blonde laughed hysterically, earning a giggly scowl from the subject of the upskirt shot.
Steph noticed that the printing equipment was humming away efficiently, and as she watched, it gave birth to one of many works that were collecting in the tray. A thin, A4 sized book, with a high-gloss cover depicting half of a woman's face obscured by a mask, and a title, "Masterson Masked Ball". It really was intended as a special piece of memorabilia for the evening, then. But there was no sign of the large canvases that Natalie had said would be produced for presentation at the auction before the night's close.
"No, no!" the girl in stitches and almost spilling her drink chided. "Sluttier than that, come on!"
"Oh, I'm going to shut you up! How about this?" Her friend walked past the camera, but then stepped her feet wide apart, and squatted down over it.
*Click!* Natalie wasted no time capturing the racy shot, and the woman stood immediately in surprise. "Shit, you were fast. I wasn't actually going to let you do it-"
"Too late!" Her friend was laughing even more, if that were possible.
"Fine. But now it's your turn! Let's see how you like
your
big tushy and knickers printed out for some perv's collection!"
"Pfft," the bystander stood and approached the camera, her large hips swaying, her bust jiggling in her loose fitting dress. "My husband will buy mine, if he wants any chance of getting lucky tonight." The two laughed together again, obviously having a lot of fun with it. Stephanie still couldn't believe the women of the party had actually shed enough inhibitions to go along with Natalie's crazy request. Was it possible... could she have been the
only
one who hadn't agreed to the upskirt shot?
Well, obviously I can't do it. No panties and all that. But, if it wasn't for that?
Stephanie was a mess of uncertainties. She had let Natalie talk her into some pretty racy shots as it was - and that was a few Dom Pérignon's ago now! She wondered... with the drinks freely flowing, and everyone else doing it? Hypotheticals aside, she realised that she had lingered near the doorway for too long already. The ladies' room beckoned, and she carefully closed the door and resumed her little mission.
Momentarily, Stephanie found herself sitting on the toilet and tinkling away. It was a long one, and was making her nervous. She was producing a harsh spray that kept wanting to follow a lip and go off to the side, and she had to keep shifting to avoid a disaster that might see her wetting her beautiful silk dress.
