Vespa

In my last contribution (House Sitting) I told how I ended up at a costume party in my birthday suit. At the point I left off, I had been chosen to be part of one of several groups who were to visit other parties which were part of the same arts festival. This was not a community-wide festival like Mardi Gras, but just a string of parties put on by a loosely-organized arts club, and members had come from all over France – and even other parts of Europe - to take part. It was not my first experience being the only person naked at a party (see Scoreboard), but riding around town naked with my very new acquaintances would be a different challenge.

What the Hell, I went out front where they were getting ready to go. I didn't really like the idea of being chauffeured around by a bunch of drunken guys, so I accepted the offer of another girl, Yvette, to go with her on her new Vespa. In her skimpy bikini she was getting a lot of attention from the guys, too.

On the way to the first party Yvette and I got lost. The car we had been following went through a red light crossing the highway into town, but Yvette stopped. We had the address, but neither of us knew our way around, so we stopped at a filling station for directions. This turned out to be a bad choice.

For such an affluent village, it was a pretty scruffy station. There weren't any customers, but there were three guys there, one who actually seemed to be working and two losers just hanging around. They were all very interested in us, of course, and were doing a lot more ogling than providing directions.

I needed to stop anyway. I got some tissue out of my purse and went off to the bushes to take care of business. While I was gone, I heard them asking Yvette why I was naked and why she didn't take off her bikini and join me.

As I was emerging from the bushes I realized that one of the guys had followed me, so I confronted him and asked if he got his thrills watching girls pee. He didn't say anything, but as I walked away he grabbed me around the waist. I told him to get his hands off of me. He just moved his hands lower and called me a whore.

He was just a runt, around 1.65 cm at most and had probably been picked on by bigger kids when he was growing up. Now he thought he could take it out on girls, but tonight he had picked the wrong one. I'm 1.80 and worked my way through grad-school teaching self-defence for women. I grabbed his wrist and swung him around pushing his face into a stone wall. I kept inching his arm up his back and told him that a lot bigger guy had tried to rape me once and ended up getting arrested in the hospital (true – I have a bad temper) and that his shoulder would dislocate if I moved his arm up even 5 more centimetres (probably not true, but it would certainly feel that way to him).

I walked him over to where Yvette was talking to his buddies, to check on her and to humiliate my captive a bit more. I let him whimper a bit in front of his friends, cinching his arm up a bit more, and then let him go. The little creep stumbled forward and then turned around and came back at me with a piece of pipe. He made it so easy. I grabbed the sore arm, threw him down hard, picked up his impromptu weapon and tossed it in the bushes. He started to get up again, but I told him to stay on the ground until I was ready to leave. His friends were laughing at him – decked by a naked girl – but he stayed down. I'm sure that the humiliation in front of his friends was more painful than what I had inflicted. Plus he could probably look forward to the story getting around town.

After that I was ready to party, so Yvette and I moved on. Our group had already left when we arrived at the next venue, so neither of us knew anyone. We got a big welcome anyway. Before long I was dancing in a circle of cheering guys, really enjoying the attention. Then someone cleared a table, and I got up to dance on it. Not to be outdone, Yvette got up on another table. We were dancing facing each other about 3-4 metres apart, when Yvette started to strip, alternating between working on the top and bottom of her bikini.

Yvette was good at this, and she took a long time, while holding everyone's attention. I quit dancing, too, just to watch. Long before she took it off, she had both parts of her bikini so loose that I couldn't believe that they didn't just fall off. When she was finally through with the bikini, she made it disappear like a magician. She waived both arms in front of her body, and it was gone. It was a great trick, but she wouldn't tell me how she did it.

The tease continued. She danced slowly, moving up and down. On the down movements she would open her legs just a bit, each time a little more, but she would either turn around or put her hand over her pussy. As a finale she squatted down, opened her legs and showed them all she had.

We had gotten directions to the next party, but Yvette wanted to go to a sidewalk café in the center of the village. Our little procession through town was quite a spectacle, four or five cars loaded with revellers following two naked girls on a scooter. On the way, Yvette told me she had worked for years as a stripper, which she had thoroughly enjoyed, unlike most of her peers. She was also one of the very few who had actually gotten rich doing it.

Yvette told me that she had never been naked on the streets. OK, well neither had I before that night. I only beat her by an hour or so.

We picked out a café, and the scene became very much like the other parties, except that we stayed outdoors on the main street of the village, where anyone walking or driving by would see us. Guys were honking and shouting at us from their cars. Traffic turned into a mess. A lot of people stopped and joined the party. The café owner was enthusiastic about the business we were bringing him, so he gave us no trouble at all. Yvette and I each ventured out into the street several times, but the café owner always got worried if he thought we were leaving his place.

Yvette and I were both making the rounds talking to and showing off for various guys when I noticed that she was on the roof of a car doing another dance. This one was very slow, and there was no teasing. She revealed every part of the female anatomy that I'm familiar with, slowly and sensually, even touching herself a few times. It was a real work of art. I didn't even try to compete with this professional performance.

I was getting pretty tired, so I convinced Yvette to drive me home. It was not that hard to slip away because two other girls had started competing strip acts on tables facing each other, and they were getting most of the attention. The crowd was also encouraging more girls to join in.

Yvette left me at my temporary house, planning to look for another party. The last I saw of her she was driving off naked into the night on her little Vespa.

I was tired but really wound up, so I relaxed by trying some of Yvette's dance routines in front of a mirror before taking a hot bath, then getting into bed and masturbating myself to sleep.