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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to o
o be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
She's A Tease - 1 (MF, affair)
by MIKE HUNT
***
I was returning Karen & John's vacuum cleaner. Mine had blown up
a couple of weeks earlier, and I hadn't spent the money to fix it
or buy a new one yet. I didn't know either Karen or John particularly
well; they had only moved into our duplex about 3 or 4 months before,
and what with work schedules and all, I only ran into them at the
mailbox or front door a few times for a couple of seconds.
Anyway, Karen answered the door, and as I thanked her for the use
of the appliance, she told me stash it in the cleaning closet under
the stairs in the living room. I carried it into her house, making
polite conversation as we walked through the foyer and living room.
Hanging in front of the door to the closet was a dress in a cellophane
bag. It looked to be new.
"New dress?" I asked. "Big event coming up?"
"Yes, and sort of," she replied. John is having some of his people
from work over for a dinner party on Thursday, and I wanted to get
something new to wear. But now I'm not so sure about it," Karen said.
"Why?" I asked innocently.
"Well, I was in one of my flirty moods when I bought it, and now
I'm not sure it appropriate for his boss and coworkers," she said.
I wondered what John thought of the dress, when she answered my unspoken
question by saying "I just got it yesterday, and John hasn't seen
it yet. In fact, he won't, because he's out of town on business until
Thursday afternoon, and then he's picking them up at work and bringing
them all here for the celebration dinner party. Some big deal they're
closing this week..." She paused, and then said, "And his boss is
kind of conservative. Would you do me a favor? Would you take a look
at it and tell me what you think?"
"Sure," I said. "Always glad to help a damsel in dis-dress."
She groaned at my bad joke. So did I. She grabbed the hangar down
from its perch on the railing above the door, and said "Just put the
vacuum cleaner under the stairs. I'll change and be right out."
Her bedroom door was just opposite the closet, but she closed the
door most of the way, and I couldn't see anything. But we continued
talking.
She began. "Sometimes I'm just in such a mood, and I like to show
off, a little. Well, maybe a lot, actually. I think it's a reaction
to my ugly duckling years when I was a teenager."
"Well, those days are over," I almost shouted through the door. Karen,
you see, is about 5' 6", shoulder length brunette hair, and has a
killer figure. I knew she was nice looking, but today she was walking
around in a T-shirt and tight jeans, and it was the first time I had
really noticed how bouncy her tits were, and what a great hourglass
shape she had.
"Thanks," she replied. "But I'm afraid I've turned into a bit of
a flirt and a tease. Well, maybe more than a bit. I like to have men
look at me. Once my figure filled out and I realized I wasn't quite
so ugly any more, I sort of got the attitude 'If you've got it, show
it'. Cause I figure in another 10 or 20 years I won't have it, and
then what?"
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm looking forward to another 20 years
when I have a pot belly and am wearing fuzzy slippers around the house,
myself," I joked.
She laughed. "But I am a little afraid that this dress might be a
bit too much for a business dinner, so you can really help me by being
completely honest."
"OK," I promised.
Karen appeared in the doorway. And she wasn't kidding. The dress
was short. Real short. I estimated it ended about 4 or 5 inches below
her crotch. The material was skin tight up to her breasts, and was
like a thin satin or some such. But at the bust line, that material
ended and gave way to a cottony bodice which held her breasts straight
out, sort of in the fashion of the Swiss-miss ski outfits. The effect
of the different material and her beautiful boobs was eye-shattering,
to say the least. Best of all, the cottony bra section was quite low
cut, showing the beginning swell of her breasts above it as she breathed
in and out.
"Wow," I managed to say. OK, so my tongue was stuck in my throat.
Witty conversation while staring at a beautiful girl has never been
my strong suit. In fact, I'm quite shy, which perhaps accounts for
why I hadn't taken much note of this goddess living right next door.
"Wow," I said again.
"Well thanks, I think. But what do you think? A little too much for
a business party?"
"To be truthful, I'd say it's right on the line. Maybe a little too
much, maybe not. What do you think John will think?"
She answered quickly and without hesitation. "Oh, he'll probably
think it's fine. He likes to show me off. He's completely secure in
our relationship. And so am I. I have a wonderful marriage. I would
never do anything to jeopardize it, I mean, like sleeping with someone
else or something. And he knows what a tease I can be, especially
when I put my mind to it."
"Well, then, what's the problem?" I wondered out loud.
"Maybe several things." John's boss is quite a bit taller than me,
or even you. For example, here get up on the stair."
I moved to the first stair of the staircase.
"Now look." And with that, she turned around with her back to me
and moved back so that I was looking down her dress. "See what I mean?
I can't tell if he'll be able to see too much, and I don't want to
leave a bad impression on the boss, right?" She paused for a moment.
I drank in the view. "How much can you see?" she asked.
"Ah, er, I mean, some, ah,"
"Oh for heaven's sakes," she snorted. "Be honest. They're just boobs.
All women have them. It's not like they're a rare commodity or something."
Hers were, believe me. She went on, "Would you rather call them tits?
You do call them tits when you're with the guys, right? I call them
tits, too. How much can you see?"
There was an awkward lull. But I decided to press bravely on.
"Well, I would say I can see about halfway down, I mean about half-way,
I guess. It's quite a view, I will have to admit. But if you're just
careful not to let him sneak up behind you, you shouldn't have to
worry, right?"
The entire time she was standing there, just letting me stare down
her blouse at her ripe melons. God, is there a job like this anywhere
on the planet?
"Yeah, I guess so. But that's not all. Here, sit down." She led me
to a wooden chair in the living room. It was more of a stool with
a high back, actually. I sat down.
"Suppose I'm serving hors d'oeuvres." She grabbed a magazine and
held it out as though it were a serving tray. She bent over at the
waist, directly in front of me, pretending to offer me a canape. She
said "Can I interest you in something to nibble on?" As she bent over,
the top of the blouse billowed down nearly revealing her full hanging
breasts, my eyes were riveted on that most beautiful sight. I stared
and stared, until she finally said, "Ahem. Hello? Can I have your
attention please?"
Finally I took my eyes out of her blouse and looked up into her face.
She was smiling quite broadly at me, and said, "See, I told you I
like to tease. But I don't want to be blatant about it, or anything.
So I need to know if this looks, well, too much." At this point she
was still bent over, and the square cut neckline of the dress was
still hanging away from her tits. I could see virtually everything
except the cherry nipples which were still shielded from view. My
eyes shifted back down and stared. My eyes never moved as I spoke.
"Well I suppose you could be a little careful about bending over
like that, cause I certainly can see a lot of your, ah, you know,
cleavage."
"Cleavage. I'm guessing you can see more than cleavage. Anyway, I've
always thought that's a funny word. I wonder where "cleavage" ends
and tits begin? I wonder why people use euphemisms like that. I call
them tits. Don't you? I'm sure you mean tits. Is there some reason
you don't like that word?" As I kept my gaze confined on her window
of womanhood, she continued, "Would you rather call them jugs? How
about hooters?" She giggled.
She was right. Somehow I was having trouble sitting in front of this
gorgeous creature and staring down her dress and talking about her
tits. I resolved to change that.
"OK, yes, I can see most of your, ah, tits. And just beautiful ones
they are, too, if I might say. Some of the nicest tits I've seen in
quite a while. OK? There, I said it. Tits."
She giggled. "Oh I've embarrassed you. I'm such a flirt. But I really
needed to know. Thanks."
I replied "And maybe you should watch what you say at those times,
too. Like 'Would you like something to nibble on' could be taken the
wrong way. Maybe you should try 'Can I offer you something?' Oh, no,
that doesn't work. Well maybe 'Here, I made them myself.' Er, well,
you know, something else that doesn't give the wrong impression."
"Good idea," she shot back. "While I'm passing out the snacks, maybe
I'll just say 'Grab 'em while they're hot!'"
We both cracked up. I was getting onto the game, finally. Hey, I
may be slow, but I can be fun. She finally straightened back up. Needless
to say, I had already straightened up, some, myself.
As she stood back, she said "There's one other thing about this dress
that I'm concerned about." She turned slightly to the side and flexed
one knee forward. "Panty lines. Look. See these wrinkles where my
panties are. That's the trouble with these clingy materials."
"Didn't you notice when you bought the dress?" I asked.
"No, I wasn't wearing panties that day," she said.
I almost choked.
(continued in part 2)