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Striptease
"Thank you for showing how sexy burlesque can be! I LOVE to be teased!" - Gennifer F.
"I read this and performed for my man the same night! Thank you K.C. Hall, I had a GOOD NIGHT!" Wendy F.
He turned to watch her go, her hips swaying as she tried to walk fast in her pencil
skirt; forced into an exaggerated, Marilyn Monroe style sway. His eyes lingered on the high,high Cuban heels of her deep red shoes, following the dark seams of her stockings as they traced a line up the back of her legs, disappearing under the clinging hem of her skirt. Mentally he traced the seam still further, to the top of her stockings—he knew they’d be stockings, not tights—and then his feet started moving of their own volition.
Taking long strides to cover the distance between them he followed her along the
length of the high street, down a side-street as she turned left, then pressed himself—slightly theatrically—against a damp brick wall to watch as she knocked on a plain, door hidden in a shadowy recess.
The door swung open and someone spoke briefly in a deep, gravelly voice that
was unintelligible over the distance. Karin replied, already stepping inside and
shaking off her umbrella. Terrance was intrigued. He had followed her initially without any real thought in mind, except to keep her in sight until he’d made a decision. Now she seemed to be involved in something he could only describe as ‘shady’, he decided to keep following her a little longer.
Quickly he ran forward, putting his foot just inside the doorway as the door swung to. He waited until the sound of voices had receded, then, keeping a tight hold on his pile of books, pushed at the door.
Taking a deep breath, he wondered what sort of nefarious business she was
involved in. Was it possible? Could she be some kind of prostitute? It would explain why she was dressed up to the nines, also why she had made such a rapid getaway when she saw someone from her past. He had seen her eyes widen and dilate, and her cheeks deepen—what could that be but shame and fear?
He knew he had no place in her life, ten years ago he would have said that he
never wanted to again, but something had cracked in him when he saw her again. Now that he felt fear for her, he knew he had to try and had to rescue her from whatever this situation was she’d got into.
Terrance’s chest swelled with courage and determination. For once he could cast
off the bookish personality he felt consumed him, and be some kind of a hero, even if it was only in a small way.
........
Through the screen she can be clearly seen reaching behind herself to undo the
catch on her lacy, be-ribboned bra, then sliding the straps down her arms. She turned to the side as she pulled it off entirely and flung it over the screen to join the camisole.
Every man in the audience shifted slightly in his seat as the heavy, rounded line of her breasts became visible, tipped with the noticeable peak of her hardened nipple.
Reaching above herself, she stretched quickly, then a leg extended itself out the
other side of the screen, the foot resting lightly on a chair handily placed there,
displaying the stocking and suspender that encased it.
Snap
and
Snap.
Her red-fingernailed hand undid the suspender catches. Her head and shoulders
appeared briefly as she leaned forward to roll the stocking down. She turned her head, grinned wickedly, briefly, then draped the stocking over the chair and switched legs.
"I read this and performed for my man the same night! Thank you K.C. Hall, I had a GOOD NIGHT!" Wendy F.
He turned to watch her go, her hips swaying as she tried to walk fast in her pencil
skirt; forced into an exaggerated, Marilyn Monroe style sway. His eyes lingered on the high,high Cuban heels of her deep red shoes, following the dark seams of her stockings as they traced a line up the back of her legs, disappearing under the clinging hem of her skirt. Mentally he traced the seam still further, to the top of her stockings—he knew they’d be stockings, not tights—and then his feet started moving of their own volition.
Taking long strides to cover the distance between them he followed her along the
length of the high street, down a side-street as she turned left, then pressed himself—slightly theatrically—against a damp brick wall to watch as she knocked on a plain, door hidden in a shadowy recess.
The door swung open and someone spoke briefly in a deep, gravelly voice that
was unintelligible over the distance. Karin replied, already stepping inside and
shaking off her umbrella. Terrance was intrigued. He had followed her initially without any real thought in mind, except to keep her in sight until he’d made a decision. Now she seemed to be involved in something he could only describe as ‘shady’, he decided to keep following her a little longer.
Quickly he ran forward, putting his foot just inside the doorway as the door swung to. He waited until the sound of voices had receded, then, keeping a tight hold on his pile of books, pushed at the door.
Taking a deep breath, he wondered what sort of nefarious business she was
involved in. Was it possible? Could she be some kind of prostitute? It would explain why she was dressed up to the nines, also why she had made such a rapid getaway when she saw someone from her past. He had seen her eyes widen and dilate, and her cheeks deepen—what could that be but shame and fear?
He knew he had no place in her life, ten years ago he would have said that he
never wanted to again, but something had cracked in him when he saw her again. Now that he felt fear for her, he knew he had to try and had to rescue her from whatever this situation was she’d got into.
Terrance’s chest swelled with courage and determination. For once he could cast
off the bookish personality he felt consumed him, and be some kind of a hero, even if it was only in a small way.
........
Through the screen she can be clearly seen reaching behind herself to undo the
catch on her lacy, be-ribboned bra, then sliding the straps down her arms. She turned to the side as she pulled it off entirely and flung it over the screen to join the camisole.
Every man in the audience shifted slightly in his seat as the heavy, rounded line of her breasts became visible, tipped with the noticeable peak of her hardened nipple.
Reaching above herself, she stretched quickly, then a leg extended itself out the
other side of the screen, the foot resting lightly on a chair handily placed there,
displaying the stocking and suspender that encased it.
Snap
and
Snap.
Her red-fingernailed hand undid the suspender catches. Her head and shoulders
appeared briefly as she leaned forward to roll the stocking down. She turned her head, grinned wickedly, briefly, then draped the stocking over the chair and switched legs.
208 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 26, 2010
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