“Take off your panties, baby slut.” She says with a smile, her red wine lazily balanced between the fingers of her right hand. We just got to the party. Honestly, I was expecting a little socializing first, but I don’t mind being the first to start playing, to break the ice. “Yes, Miss.” I lean forward and reach under the hem of my dress to hook my panties in my fingers.
We barely enter the club and she grabs my hand and tugs me away from the bar. Before I know it, I’m in wedged into a bathroom stall with her hands on my shoulders, pushing me down to my knees. My linen skirt bundles up around my knees and overflows out into the next stall. This would probably be embarrassing if I thought about it. She giggles and her hand leaves my shoulder.
I noticed her from across the bonfire. Of course I did, it was early in the evening and she was practically naked already. The scrap of dark fabric she was wearing as a skirt was flying all over the place because she was dancing. It looked like she wasn’t really part of the same world as the rest of us. I’m not complaining, it was quite a pleasant sight. I sipped my drink and leaned back trying to put on my cool and hoping to watch her for a while.
The party was good, but I still needed to get away. Once a year was still overwhelming. Too many people at all once for my taste. Too much raw sex in the air-not that I have anything against sex, I just want to be able to smell fresh air sometimes over the low hum of arousal. I took a walk to the far side of the deck and looked out over my host’s spacious-and incredibly private-back yard.