A few years back, hubby and I hosted our own version of the Exotic Erotic Ball in our home. Not really to be compared with that which is held annually in San Francisco, our party only involved eight other couples. We asked everybody to come in costume and stick with our exotic erotic theme.
I spent a few weeks pondering what I should wear at our little party. I wanted to be risqué, but not completely slutty. Hubby was all for the risqué, as well as the slutty, so he was no real help. I settled on going with a barmaid type outfit, complete with a black see-through leotard, bow tie, and a cute little apron in the front. Shear black pantyhose and high-heels completed my costume.
My ever-entertaining hubby came up with a horny monk theme for himself. A simple full-length brown monk’s robe and a sizeable strap-on dildo, made it look like he had a perpetual erection under his garb.
By nine o’clock on Saturday night, our party was in full swing. The costumes ranged from outrageous to conservative. My own costume leaned more towards the outrageous in that my 36c titties were easily viewable through the shear material of the leotard.
Although our crowd was mostly a beer and wine group, hubby broke out the tequila gold for an occasional group shooter. Tequila has a strange affect on me that no other alcoholic beverage seems to duplicate. The more I drink, the more I am willing to drink. As the tequila level in my blood increases, the inhibition levels decrease. I sense that I am not alone in experiencing this phenomenon.
Once we were well into the evening, one of our male guests asked who among us (referring to the women of course) felt brave enough to entertain the group with an exotic erotic dance? Great laughter ensued and the other women of the group pretty much blew him off on his suggestion. It might have ended there, had it not been for the four or more tequila shooters I had ingested, along with a couple bottles of beer. Feeling quite brave, I ventured forward and called for some music. The group found seats around our living room to watch the show.
I was feeling no pain, and certainly no embarrassment, as I began to perform for our guests. Everybody, guys and gals, were cheering me on. I danced as seductively as I could, intermittently stretching the front of my leotard top down to just above my nipples, and even turning my ass to the group and bending over to touch the floor. When the music ended, they all applauded and begged me to continue. One of my closest friends began chanting for me to “take it off, take it off”. Her spontaneous chanting quickly gained support from the rest of the group, and that’s when the next song started.
As I started my second dance, I gestured for another shot of gold, which I quickly slammed down. That last shot warmed my entire body, further motivation to take that next step. With the music playing a medium rock beat, I found the courage to slip my leotard over my shoulders and work it down to my waste. Dancing with my top down, I wondered what hubby thought of my behavior. As I turned to look for him, a camera flash temporarily blinded me. When I regained my sight, I saw that it was hubby who was capturing the moment on film. My guess was hubby supported my behavior.
Within just a second or two, at least three other cameras were out and flashing away. I suppose I should have worried what would become of those photos, but I was too caught up in the moment. Instead, I just kept dancing.
After a moment, I hooked my thumbs in the leotard and my pantyhose at my waste. Moving with the beat of the music, I slowly inched both over my hips and down my legs. When I reached my ankles, I paused, letting my naked ass and prominent red-haired pussy sway to the music. Bent over and exposed to my partygoers, I was suddenly overcome by the eroticism of the moment. I felt incredibly sexy and equally as horny.
Stepping out of my clothes, I continued to dance with nothing on but my shoes. The entire event seemed so surreal, both at that moment, and even now as I recount the story. I finished the dance, paraded about naked for a few more moments, then picked up my clothes. I told the group it was someone else’s turn. Much to my surprise, another woman jumped up and called for more music.
At first, I thought to slip into the bedroom and get dressed again. Instead, I sat down next to one of our male guests on our couch, deciding to enjoy the show. This next girl was not quite as bold as I had been. She danced seductively enough, but the most she would do was quickly pull open her blouse and flash her tits, before covering up again to dance some more.
I was starting to wonder if the girls were feeling that they had to perform to save face with their respective husbands. A third girl followed. She too was a wonderful dancer and she even finished off her dance topless. I thought her husband was going to shoot his wad in his pants, his erection was so pronounced. All the while, the men kept the cameras popping, snapping off pictures every few seconds.
It was the last girl to dance that really brought me to a peak of sexual excitement. None of the rest had been willing to bare all for the group after me, and I was beginning to wonder if I would be the “tramp of the night.” But Janice would prove me wrong.
