"Ooooh fuck! When oh when did you tell me you were going to switch it up Baby??" Regina was already drinking a bottle of wine and her naughty side was revealing itself like autumn does in its reddening, swaying dance with spring.
Savannah had emerged from the doorway after working on an outfit for quite the length of time. Is it a slutty kind of day?
Maybe a cute outfit for the party?
Stockings had been tried on and maid outfits had been left on the chair.
Leotards and heels here and there.
Corsets and schoolgirl costumes.
Nothing seemed to work.
And then,
"And then I found these," Savannah pulled up the exposed thin black waistband shooting out from her blue jeans and wrapping around her soft hips. Regina slowly made her way towards Savannah, wine in hand. As the glass made its way from one hand to the other, the now free fingers of Regina gripped that little tiny waistband, "And what's at the end of this little piece of fabric, I wonder..."
Her eyes met Savannah's.
"Oh baby, what's that? Is that," Her hands meet at the top of her jeans, "A pesky little button. I think we can juuuuust..."
And with that a white bow made its entrance and, as the zip of the jeans was ever-so-slowly pulled down, a triangular and transparently sheer cover made contact with the air.
"God you pull that off baby," Regina teases whilst lightly rubbing her girlfriend's soft cock through the fabric.
"Maybe you can pull it off later," Savannah retorts, eyes closed and biting her lip.
"Okay Casanova," A playful slap to the front of the see-through thong from Regina and a high-pitched moan from Savannah.
"Jeans, white trainers. Gorgeous little thong. White little cropped top,"
"Don't forget the plug."
A slutty smirk from Regina, "Ooh you naughty girl!!"
With the wine flowing like the Rhine, the river of guests became more and more anticipated as the hours and minutes fell away.
First, a group of girls, numbering maybe 12.
A mixture of Latinas, Europeans, 2 girls from Japan, and a towering slender Kenyan goddess.
With the positively European double-kissing salutations out of the way, and the mutual enjoyment of ass slaps and drunken dancing haven taken place, more and more arrivals streamed in.
Queer artists.
Writers.
The dancers from the university nearby.
Football boys.
Gym bros, gym rats and gym brats.
Formal dress here,