Jim and Sandi were at a rowdy party given by their new friends from the amateur theatrical group. They'd recently moved to the city and the party was billed as a chance to get to know the members. Someone also suggested that the party was important in deciding who would be auditioned for the key roles in the planned autumn production of
Anything Goes
, the Cole Porter musical. Jim couldn't sing and wasn't keen, but Sandi had insisted on going.
There was plenty to drink and Jim found the amateur thespians good company. He was happy to sit with a beer and gossip. Sandi was more forthright in getting to know the people who mattered.
"We're here to make an impression. Otherwise we'll never get to play any worthwhile parts," she told Jim before leaving his side to circle the large room and the terrace outside, introducing herself and getting to know everyone.
Jim paid little attention, happy to chat with the people around him about work and sport and the best places to eat. A few times Sandi came back to him and told him to talk to the interesting people she'd met, but he declined.
They'd been at the party about an hour when he was distracted by events on the terrace. Although it was a balmy evening people had stayed inside, apart from a few smokers. Now a dozen people, mostly men, had taken their drinks and formed a semi-circle with the plastic seats at the far end in the shade of some trees. Jim got up to find another drink and took in the terrace on the way. He decided that the commotion was to do with the barbecue, which was smoking in readiness on one side.
Turning back to the house in search of the cask ale he liked, he saw a large, blonde woman dressed in a pink tee shirt and tight black skirt. He'd noticed her earlier because she had an infectious, noisy laugh that carried round the room. Now she began to dance alone in front of the semi-circle of chairs, performing a few vigorous moves which showed off her strong legs and her belly as the shirt and skirt rode up. Jim watched, amused. In spite of her solid build, she was bold and even voluptuous in her movements. She used her arms to push up her fleshy breasts, and high-kicked so that her legs were exposed to her hips. Then she did a rapid turn and without warning whipped off her shirt to reveal a black bra, pale shoulders and belly. There was loud applause from the watchers and calls for more. She managed a few steps and the skirt followed, wriggled sensuously over her hips and down her thighs to show tights and tiny black knickers. The applause redoubled as she kicked away the skirt.
"My god it's a striptease," thought Jim.
"Daphne's good," said Sandi, who had appeared beside him and was watching. "Don't pretend you're not excited."
"It's sexy, yes, but very shocking, in front of all these strangers."
"She's a performer. She loves the attention."
Daphne went round her audience laughing and jiggling her breasts and hips. Jim clapped, thinking this might be the climax of the act. She stopped in front of him, laughing and catching his eye. Then she unclipped her bra and her breasts swung free, showing off more white flesh and deep purple jutting nipples. He choked on his beer and was sure he blushed as she tossed the bra to him.
Quickly she danced away and made a circuit of the watchers, pushing up her breasts and waving her arms above her head. There were shouts for more, but this was the end because someone handed her a glass of wine and she stopped to chat, unabashed by her nudity.
Jim was still holding her bra when she came over to reclaim it. He tried hard to avoid staring at her breasts and to behave as if the encounter was the most natural thing. Sandi laughed at his efforts.
"Well that was embarrassing," he said when Daphne had gone.
"It was something special," replied Sandi surprisingly. "She's so enthusiastic and has everyone's attention. No wonder she gets the parts."
Jim realised that Sandi was jealous of Daphne.
"It was shameless, but crudely entertaining I have to admit. I guess it's good fun if you like that sort of thing. Everybody's having a good time."
"But do you think she's sexy?"
"Of course."
"I could do that."
Jim wondered what made Sandi say such a thing. "Why would you?"
"You know I like being the centre of attention."
"True. But isn't it humiliating being ogled and objectified by those greedy men?"
"Does Daphne look humiliated? You were more put out by having to hold her bra."
"I guess she's proud of how she looks."
Sandi wandered off and Jim went in search of a drink. He was talking to a man about football when they were pushed to one side as more people came onto the terrace. Plenty had been drunk, the party was getting boisterous and there were shouts and cat calls. Then Jim's heart thumped and he steadied himself against the wall.
It was Sandi, black hair tied back in a pony tail, and wearing her cream linen shirt and tight black leggings in place of her jeans. She stepped into the space on the terrace and performed a skip and jump followed by a tidy dance routine. Almost immediately there was applause and shouts as she jerked and gyrated. Jim watched amazed. He'd never seen Sandi like this. More than once she caught his eye and he nodded encouragement, knowing that to show disapproval would make him look ridiculous. In any case, he wanted to show support.
After a minute of energetic dance to the sound of laughter and clapping, she flexed her shoulders and her shirt came off. Waving the shirt like a flag, she paraded round the audience, pony tail bobbing, strutting to push out her red patterned bra. She flung the shirt to one side. Then she unclipped her bra and held it against her breasts. It was an extravagant tease. Delaying an age until she had everyone's attention, she lifted the bra and waved it over her head, making her breasts jiggle. There was a storm of applause.
"Take a look at those star performers!" wheezed the man beside Jim.
"Show us your pussy," called another.
"Good dance," called a woman. "Great body."
Jim looked round angrily, expecting to feel shame and humiliation. But he saw her through the eyes of the audience and was proud of her taut, alabaster skin and smooth curves. He wanted to tell her she'd made her point, but she was on the far side, looking away from him.
He had nothing to say as the leggings were lowered, then lost in a sexy, sultry dance. Now she paraded in her panties, showing her legs and belly to advantage, arching and bending to stretch the white fabric and finally hooking her thumbs into the waistband. The audience sighed, waiting for relief. Surely no. Her hands dropped an inch, two inches, exposing a wisp of pubic hair. But it was just a tease and after a pause she pulled her panties up.
There was riotous applause and she did a circuit of the audience which seemed to take an age. Jim saw how the men stared shamelessly at her breasts and more than once he saw her repeat the trick with her panties, presumably in response to urgent requests. Then it was over and she was beside him looking for approval. She put her shirt back and held it together without doing up the buttons. The tail covered her knickers.
"Maybe you could reclaim my jeans. I've lost them," she said happily.
