Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Being Seen by clare_for_fun

   Being Seen Ch.  01

   Clare is persuaded by Jenny to enjoy her exhibitionist side.

   "Well, you know they are just sitting on that bench to look at your
legs, to look up your skirt." Jenny looked at me and smiled.  We were both
sitting on the steps outside the university building, and sure enough
opposite us were two of our classmates.

   Jenny and I were eating our sandwiches, she was sunny and blond, always
big smiles to go with her perfect teeth and deep olive coloured skin.  We
were sitting on white stone steps in the main quad of the university, sun
streamed from the clear blue sky, and I felt it on my bare legs.

   I had had a big inferiority complex about Jenny for the first term of
our course, but slowly, as time had passed, we had become friends, and I
had come to terms with how I could cope with the contrast between my white
English complexion, my skinny arms and legs next to her more rounded
perfect form.  My light brown hair seemed thin next to her deep brown,
almost black glossy locks.

   "Well, I don't think that any of the boys are here to look at me, lets
be clear." I retorted, "I think we both know that it is a lot more likely
they are here to look up your skirt than mine." I giggled at her as we sat
there, looking at the two guys opposite us, I knew we were now both
watching them a little, trying to determine which of the guys was actually
looking, and who they were looking at.

   "I don't think you are entirely right there; you know Greg, the one on
the right, well I am pretty sure he is interested in you after that ball at
the end of last term.  I danced with him a bit, and he asked about you
twice, I think he was mainly dancing with me just to get some background on
you."

   I cast my mind back to the end of term ball, to the way I had watched
them dancing together, so very sure that he was going to get off with her.
I was surprised that Greg had asked Jenny, I had wanted him too but perhaps
my natural reticence had counted against me.  I remembered back to how I
had avoided eye contact, avoided any encouraging body language.  Jenny on
the other hand had been bold, had seemed like the mistress of the
dancefloor, walking up to groups of boys and demanding attention.

   One problem with hanging out with Jenny was that it was definitely not
helping my confidence with men.  I knew that she had had guys as partners
before university, and my lack of partners was starting to weigh on my
mind. But then no one was ever going to notice me when I was standing next
to her, to her perfect skin tone, athletic arms and legs, perfectly
sculpted breasts.  My own white pasty skin tone and skinny flattish chest
was never going to get any attention.

   "Clare, you know you under-sell yourself; you just have to get out
there. Make yourself more available.  Like...  what do you think about
Greg, I am telling you that he is interested in you."

   "Look, Greg is great, and we did that project together last term which
went quite well, but I just don't get any kind of vibe from him that he is
interested, you really think he is?" I sat there and then saw him glance at
us, trying to disguise my attention, he really did check me out.

   I felt myself blush as I became aware of his eyes on me, scanning down
from face to my tight white t-shirt and then lower, to my legs.  The pretty
blue skirt rested on my thighs, above the knee, but I knew that my legs
were together, and with the edges of the skirt pulled tight, it covered me
up enough.

   "Ha, you see, you saw that right?  He was categorically looking at you,
looking to see your legs.  I told you he is interested.  Why don't you
encourage him a bit, I know you want him.  You always go for the clever
intellectual quiet ones, the runners.  He has got a great bum though."

   This was another of Jenny's sins, she was always telling me whom I did
or didn't fancy, where my relationship interests lay, it bugged me a bit
that she was right more often than not about it all, but then perhaps I
liked it as well.

   "Show him more." She demanded as we both saw him glance over again, I
squinted at him over the top of the diet coke can, seeing his eyes resting
more intently on my body, perhaps on my legs.

   "What do you mean, more?  You mean, like my legs?" I glanced at her; she
was laughing a little at my uneasiness.  I watched her as she shifted a
little on the step, and then almost thoughtlessly, raised one of her legs
as she lowered the other, I suppose showing a little more of the top of her
thighs to the two guys directly opposite.

   They were however both obviously aware of what she did, one turned a
little, and they both moved their heads, hardly noticeable perhaps if you
were not concentrating on them, but I did notice.  I saw their eyes move
over her a little, a jolt of thrill passed through me at the thought of
actively encouraging guys to look at me like that, to desire me.

   "See what I mean, they might be pretending just to sit there, but they
aren't.  Now your turn.  I dare you." She looked me in the eyes as she
returned her legs to their original position.

   I felt my face redden a little with embarrassment, even just the thought
of it made me embarrassed, but I knew I wanted to feel the thrill, I knew I
wanted to see them look at me, to watch me as showed just a hint more of my
bare white legs.

   I looked over at her, stared at her, looked directly into her eyes, then
I moved my legs, lifted my knees higher, then almost absentmindedly, I let
my knees part.  As I looked into her eyes, I watched as she looked over at
them.  By now she was looking directly at them, scanning them to see what
they were up to.

   "So..." I asked, "Are they, are they looking then?" I almost whispered,
as if it were some sort of secret.

   "Ha!  Are you really asking, do you really wonder, you saw how they
looked at me, and I was showing nothing, you sit there, knees up and legs
apart showing them your knickers, and you ask if they are looking?  Believe
me, they watched your every move.  And I can tell you it was Greg that
really watched, not his geek friend, I am telling you, he fancies you, next
time you see him at the bar, talk to him." She replied with a naughty
giggle.

   I held the position for a while.  Now, I felt my heart beating faster,
almost hammering in my chest, I didn't even know why, but I did.  I let my
knees part a little more, then glanced around, looked directly into Greg's
direction.  There was no doubt in my mind, he was looking directly between
my legs at the pretty white cotton, decorated with pink flowers that I
remembered buying with my mum a few months ago.

   As soon as I looked at him, I lowered my eyes, then swiftly closed my
legs, pulled down the hem of the skirt, almost as if I had no idea what I
had done, as if it were an accident.  Did I think that they thought it was
an accident, a mistake, that I didn't know what I had done?  I wasn't sure,
I didn't care, but I did know how excited I felt as I saw the desire in his
eyes.

   "Come on Jenny, we have to go.  Perhaps you are right, but, but, well I
want to think about how I feel about him."

   We stood and walked off, Jenny put her arms through mine, and we walked
off towards my room.

   "Well Clare, I think you enjoyed that in the end, you enjoyed seeing him
look didn't you, admit it, you liked the way he wanted you?  Well, you have
to ask him out now, or you are just teasing him."

   "Teasing him?  You are the one that made me do it, dared me to do it."

   "Oh, come on, don't give me that, I made you, I suggested it one time
and then you jumped at the chance, and then you were so aroused that even I
could see your nipples hardening."

   We walked on in silence, I didn't think it was worth denying any of it,
we were friends, she knew me too well.

   "You know Clare, you could do with some nicer clothes, some nicer
knickers."

   We were walking down the middle of the shopping area in town the
following weekend.  I didn't have a lot of money, but Jenny did, and I
sometimes accompanied her around the local shops.  She had great taste and
it could be fun to try on new clothes with her, even if it was just a bit
of fantasy shopping.

   I looked over at her, into her eyes, and we shared a moment then I
laughed first.

   "You mean, if I am going to go around the university, showing them to
guys?" We both laughed then.

   "Yeah, you bad, bad girl....  Exactly what I mean.  Come on, let's see
what we can find." She took my hand and pulled me into Marks and Spencer,
she knew I couldn't afford the nicer, expensive lingerie boutiques and I
was relieved that at least I could afford the pretty little things in M&S.

   We walked through the ground floor area, passed all the nice dresses and
skirts, and walked through to the lingerie department.  I walked up to the
multi-buy area where all the cotton and polyester knickers were stacked in
boxes of three.

   "No Clare, not those ones, let's look at the fun ones...  If you are
going to be showing off, then you need to show off properly." She added
with a grin and led me through the more exotic choices.

   There were a few mannequins decorating the store in lace bodies, satin
knickers and bras, corsets, nothing that I had ever worn before.  I ran my
hands over some of the satin, so soft, shiny, a most perfect feeling.  I
imagined how it would feel next to my bare skin.

   "What do you prefer, lace or satin?" Jenny asked, holding up two
hangers, one with a pair of pink satin in a shorts style, the other a
little white lace thong, almost see through.  I imagined myself in each of
them, felt a jolt of excitement at the idea of wearing them, at the idea of
a guy seeing me in them, in how he might feel about me as he looked at me.

   "I don't know, lace, satin, silk, it is all amazing, beautiful.  OMG,
Jenny, can you imagine me in those, I mean.." I stuttered.

   "You mean can I imagine you wearing them sitting on the steps outside
the Uni, and Gregg sitting opposite.  Yes, Clare, I can imagine you doing
precisely that, and looking at your face, I think you can too."

   We looked through the whole department and found a few things, knickers,
thongs and bras in pink satin and white lace.  Jenny had beautiful taste
and it was fun to select a whole new range of underwear just for the fun of
it.  I couldn't afford them all, but she gave me the rest as a present.

   "I think you will need to have a few choices, and how knows, it might
help your confidence with Greg." Jenny whispered in my ear as we walked out
carrying the small bag.

   "So....  Did you?  Which pair?" Jenny asked me as we walked out of the
lecture, she giggled as we walked to the cafeteria and bought a couple of
salads.  By now my heart was beating harder again, I felt the tension in my
chest, in my legs as we walked to the steps again.

   "I wonder if the guys will show today, if they will show for the show ha
ha!" She laughed as she looked around, searching for them in crowds milling
around the steps.

   I sat on the steps and flattened my skirt, looked around, glanced over
at the benches but they were empty.  I felt a slight disappointment, but
then, I suppose, they had no reason to come along, no reason to think we
would be there, no reason to want to come and see me.

   We ate our lunch and then sat back a little and chatted about the course
and what we liked, what we didn't like, which of the lecturers we thought
were the best and the cleverest.  As we involved ourselves in the
conversation, I didn't even notice that Greg and Chris had sat down at the
bench opposite us and were similarly involved in some conversation.

   "You know Clare, it would be a lot simpler for you if you just walked
over and chatted to him, you really don't need to even play this game."
Jenny eventually looked me in the eye and then twisted her head, looking
over at the bench.

   I pretended to look around at the gate, but also checked out the guys on
the bench, my lips puckering a little as I saw them there again.  Perhaps
it was just a coincidence that they were there, but I didn't think so.

   "I don't need to play this game, but then he could just come over and
chat, or something, but well in some ways this is kind of daring, it has a
feeling of hide and seek, of innocent fun." I replied eventually after
thinking through my emotions.

   "Anyway, you didn't reply to my question, which of the new outfits did
you wear under that skirt?  Did you go for the pink satin or the white
lace, just how daring did you decide to be?"

   "It's none of your business, anyway, maybe I won't do anything today,
maybe they will have to wait till another time." I replied, but my
reddening face and beating heart betrayed the reality of the situation.

   "You are such a bad liar Clare, we both know you are going to, I bet you
wore the satin ones, and I bet you have been thinking about sitting here
this lunchtime since about 11 this morning." She ran her hand up my arm
over the top of my t-shirt, under my chin.  "Tell me I am wrong."

   "Well, you are wrong about the satin, how about that." I replied with a
smile.

   She looked down at my legs, still straight in front of me, feet
together, skirt flat over the top of my legs.

   "Oh...  so you did decide to be bold, a white lace thong under that
short skirt.  I bet you have been walking around all morning feeling the
material of the skirt flapping on your bare bum, thinking about how you
would be sitting here, how Greg would be looking over at you....  Just like
you are now." Jenny was grinning widely now; she grinned a lot but there
was a new level of smug pleasure in her eyes as she watched me.

   "You only know what a thong under a short skirt feels like because
that's what you wear half the time in the summer.  I have seen you after
yoga, I am not an idiot, don't try to make out I am behaving badly, when
you do the same." I looked her in the eyes, and she grinned, we both knew
that none of it really mattered.

   Somehow the interaction with her, the teasing had made me more decisive,
I no longer felt the same doubt as before, and as before I raised my knees
and scratching my foot, between the toes, then raised the other knee, felt
the skirt lifting higher, slipping a little from my knee down towards my
waist.

   I knew exactly what they would see now, I had practiced in the mirror in
my room.  I knew how the skirt pulled higher would no longer cover my
knickers, how the white lace was pulled tight over my neatly trimmed pussy,
the triangle of light brown hair perhaps even visible through the
attractive floral lace pattern.

   I sat there like that for a minute, and Jenny sat back, admiring my
boldness, perhaps even impressed that I had got up the confidence to do it.
I chatted to her for a while like that, glancing a couple of times at the
guys, they both looked in that moment, just glanced, not staring, not
wanting to be caught, or to be too bold.  But they saw, and I felt my
arousal growing as I knew they had.

   I could only sit like that for a few moments, my body started to feel
warm, I could feel the nipples pressing into the slightly rough white lace
bra that I was also wearing, the bra matching the thong.  Jenny glanced
down at me, seeing small dimples on the tight white t-shirt.

   "Mmm." She murmured.  "I can see you are actually enjoying yourself,
showing yourself, being seen by him here on the steps, actively showing
yourself to a guy you fancy.  You know you really have to go and talk to
him eventually; you can't hope to seduce him just by showing off to him. 
That isn't going to get him into your bed."

   "Who said anything about getting him into my bed Jenny!" I exclaimed. 
"Just because I want to play with his arousal, doesn't mean I want so much
more." I retorted with a grin on my lips.

   "Oh yeah, right, so you show yourself to people like this all the time
do you?  You would like any of the other guys in the class to see you how
you are, showing so much?  You really aren't doing it just because it is
Greg down there.  Come on Clare, I don't know who you are trying to
persuade, because it isn't working."

   I got up and returned my skirt to a more respectable position, smiling,
and then taking her arm we walked down the steps and passed the two guys.
They focussed intently on their food as we walked past them.  Both sides of
the quartet ignored the other, each pretending that nothing had happened.

   "Hey Clare, what are you wearing to the ball on the weekend?" Jenny
walked into my room without knocking, as was her way.  "I hear that Greg is
going, and you should wear something outrageously sexy so you can seduce
him once and for all."

   I looked around on my chair at her, my head at a slight angle as I shook
it, her behaviour was getting worse I felt, her suggestions getting more
outrageous by the day.

   "Jenny, since when has it been your role in my life to determine what I
should wear, who I should seduce?" I responded, although the gentle smile
on my lips gave away my real feelings.

   "Look, it's more than halfway through the year and the opportunities for
getting you into bed with him are passing by.  You need to get a move on,
we can't send you back to wherever it is you come from without having got
off with at least one guy this year."

   I felt the same way in my heart, but somehow having her saying it to me
made me feel defensive.  I knew she a quiet affair simmering nicely with a
second year she had met in a Law Society ball and that she was getting more
than her fair share of physical affection.

   "OK, so I am planning on wearing that black strapless dress that you saw
at Christmas, you know, knee length.  It is pretty sexy, and I am sure I
will look good in it." I reply.  It is my only real sexy dress and so there
isn't really a lot of choice.

   "Boring!  Come on Clare, that will be the third time you have worn that,
you can't roll it out again.  Look, there is this website where you can buy
second hand dresses, or even just hire them for a night.  I know you can't
afford to buy a new one but this will be within your means."

   I look around at her, but she has already grabbed my laptop and is
typing into the browser.  I have seen her in this mood before and I know
there is no point arguing, she will only become more intent, violent even.
So, I stand from the desk and walk with her, slumping into the duvet on my
bed, beside her as she starts to scroll through the available dresses.

   "Look....  Here this is the sort of thing I think you should wear with
your gamine figure, kind of like a 1920s style, a bit Downton.  What do you
think?" She is gesturing to a black and white dress that looks great on the
model, but I can't quite envisage how it might fit me.

   I looked at the pictures, the tight silky fabric with tulle panels over
the bust and at the bottom of the hem, a very daring low back and just two
thin spaghetti straps on the shoulders.  I knew it would suit my figure but
also that I would feel very exposed in it.  I imagined it and my body
responded, the hairs on my arms raising a little, and a blushing on my
chest.

   "You have the right figure for it, small hips and breasts, you can just
wear it on its own, and Greg will go wild for your, imagine him dancing
with you, his hands on your bare shoulders.  Look it is super low on your
back, so it will feel delicious on you.  And I can lend you some long
pearls and maybe a band to go round your hair, or perhaps a cigarette
holder."

   I couldn't get over the idea that this whole thing was an ambush, she
seemed to have already prepared all her plans for the ball and the dress,
and at the same time, I could see the sense in it.  It wasn't very long
before I was entering my card details into the website to have it delivered
the next day.

   The dress arrived the next day and I took it up to my bright and
perfectly tidy room straight away.  I took it out and held it on a hanger.
It felt so light, the main body was a thin silky satin in narrow black and
white stripes decorated with tulle panels above the neckline and below the
hem, some additional pretty, decorative ribbons also decorated the waist
and neck.

   I slipped off my skirt and top, and then looked at the neckline.  There
really wasn't going to be a way to wear a bra with it, not even one of the
pretty lace ones I had bought with Jenny, and so I discarded that as well.
I undid the zip at the back and slid it over my head, reaching behind to
pull the zip back up.

   I stood and looked in the mirror, the dress fitted me satisfyingly well,
I could feel it over my hips and waist, the flat front pulled my breasts in
a little and as I turned, I could see it accentuated the trim curves of my
bum.  It was however so very explicit, the thin satin fabric on my body
showed everything, the exact form of my bum, hips, breasts and the front
was almost dipping down between my cleavage, showing the small curves of my
breasts.

   The tulle panels added a slight air of decency, but as I looked at
myself, I knew that this showed a lot more of me than any of my other
dresses, or most of my underwear for that matter.  I imagined walking into
a huge ballroom in it, the many eyes on me, on my figure as I walked out.

   I turned and looked at my back, at my bum.  My back was exposed, all the
way down to just above my bum with a single strap crossing high up below my
shoulders to keep it from falling off altogether.  I looked at my bum,
tightly encased in the slightly shiny fabric.  I ran a hand over it,
feeling my underwear underneath, the lines a little visible as ridges on my
sculpted form.

   My hands couldn't help but move to my breasts, feel my small nipples
hardening under the soft thin silky fabric, I pinched them, just enough to
feel the flicker of pain that I knew I liked, and saw the effect that it
had on the surface of the material.  I ran my hand down to my hips, felt
the band of elastic from the white cotton underneath, and then walked to
the wardrobe and found the tiny white satin g-string that Jenny had
insisted on.

   The hem of the dress was tight to raise over my hips, but I persisted
and then slipped my old knickers off, and put the g-string on instead, now
I felt the cool dress on my bum as I pulled it back down and admired the
effect in the full height mirror.  I looked at my back, the nicely taught
muscles from my gym and yoga, my firm bum, and all so very perfectly
presented by the utterly indecent dress.

   I imagined dancing with Greg, imagined his hands on me as we danced, his
fingers exploring my shoulders, my back, my bum, pressing myself to him as
we whirled around the dancefloor.



   Being Seen Ch.  02

   Jenny and Clare go to the ball, dressed for fun.

   "Hey Clare, you look amazing in that dress.  It is a real authentic
1920s style flapper dress.  I am glad you are making an effort too!" Jenny
exploded into my college room as I stood admiring the flimsy black and
white striped silky satin dress in the long mirror in the room.

   Jenny sauntered up to me and kissed me gently on the cheek, smiling into
my eyes as I saw a wicked glint in her dark brown eyes.  She was wearing a
dress similar in style to mine, short, thin spaghetti straps over her
shoulders.  Hers was in silver and grey, decorated with sequins in thin
lines forming curves down the front and sides which accentuated her natural
figure.  Below the hem of her dress there were glittering tassels matching
the silver sequins, and she had tights on below.

   She took my hips as she pulled herself towards me, behind me, looking
into the mirror over my shoulder.  I felt her hands on my hips, the dress
so very thin over my skin.

   "You know what I have got for you, to finish the look?" She asked with
an air of mystery.

   I looked into her eyes in the mirror, I knew that she wanted to push me
as far as she could at the ball that evening, ideally into Greg's arms, and
while I was excited at the prospect, I still had some doubts about her
plans.  Down by my side, she pushed her knee forward and held it next to my
thigh, her foot encased in a delicate silver sandal, her knee and thigh
pushed through the silver tassels hanging from the hem of her dress.  I
glanced down at it and realised that a line of pretty floral lace decorated
her thigh.

   She hiked the dress a little and higher and exposed more of the lace
stocking tops, and then the suspenders that held it in place.  Above the
stocking top, her firm olive thigh emerged, and I grinned at the thought.

   "Really?  Jenny?  Stockings?  In that dress?  I mean." I spluttered at
her boldness.

   "I got you some too, there is going to be a jazz stage at the ball
tonight, and we can go and dance there together, get some real 1920s
swing." She disentangled herself from me and walked to her bag, taking a
new packet of stockings with black and white striping, similar to my dress
at the tops.

   "Jenny, what are you thinking, do you really want to dress like that? 
These dresses are short enough as it is, you know that when we dance, they
will see the tops, I mean we will be dancing, showing off that we are
wearing stockings, in front of all our friends." I objected.

   "Clare, just shut up and stand still." She replied, instructing me
without compromise.  "You are going to wear stockings along with me, I have
decided, I want to do it and I don't want to be the only one.  Imagine the
scandal!" She teased, giggling.

   She walked in front of me and took the hem of my dress, the thin tulle
layer hanging a little below it.  Then she gently lifted the dress up,
exposing the pretty light pink g-string we had bought earlier that week.

   "Mmm, nice, I bet that feels sexy doesn't it, a pretty g-string under a
satin dress, feeling that satin moving against your skin, you bad girl." As
she commented, she pulled the black suspender belt around my waist and then
attached it behind me.  The four straps fell down and I felt them glance
against my leg, feeling somewhat embarrassed to be letting her dress me.

   "I can take it from here Jenny!  You don't need to mother me." I
insisted, but she was intent in her task.  She pulled the new stockings
from their packet, neatly folded around a piece of card, letting them fall
free next to my white legs.

   "You know Clare, your white skin tone is really going to go well with
this dress, the black and white of the dress and you skin creates a perfect
combination.  Now raise your leg."

   Of course, I obeyed, and she gathered the first stocking into her hand
and then gently slid it over my foot and up my leg, over my knee until it
met the two suspender straps, the metal and rubber clasp.  I had never worn
stockings; always thought they were rather old-fashioned.  It was very
intimate for her to kneel there in front of me, to feel her hands on my
inner thighs as she attached the two straps to the stocking top.

   I felt her fingers as she pulled the thong away from my skin a little in
order to tuck the straps of the stockings under the g-string.  "Take my
word Clare, it is better this way!" She giggled to herself.  Her fingers on
my skin, on my bum, adjusting my lingerie felt so very intimate.

   I looked down, my white thigh now so much more exposed as the black and
white stripes of the stocking top seemed to make it stand out.  Jenny stuck
to her task and had swiftly completed the second one as well, and before I
let the hem of the dress fall back down, I looked at my legs in the mirror.

   Both trim white legs encased in the softest, almost shiny, gossamer thin
fabric.  The black and white stocking tops highlighting my skin tone, the
black lace suspender belt decorating my waist and knickers.  It all felt
too sexy for me, too provocative, too much like I was showing off.  And yet
I felt a jolt of thrill in my stomach as I imagined myself dancing
alongside Jenny, the short dress and tulle decorations barely covering me.

   As I twirled slowly in front of the mirror, I realised there was a thin
black line running down the back of my leg.  "Oh, I didn't see that." I
commented.

   "Oh, well that is just so that all the guys know you are really wearing
stockings and have a chance to admire your legs." Jenny replied
matter-of-factly.

   I let go of the hem of the dress and it fell down, back into place.  It
was a little shorter on me than Jenny's and while the tulle on my legs
partially hid my legs, the stocking tops were lot less effectively covered
than the silver tassels on hers.  As I looked in the mirror, I could see
that the bottom edges of the stocking tops were already visible below the
hem, through the tulle, even as I stood still.

   "Jenny, do you really think this is decent?  I mean, isn't there
supposed to be an element of mystery here?" I inquired of her with a grin.

   "Clare, this is not about decent, get that idea out of your head, this
is about you having a good time, knowing you feel great, knowing you look
great, and knowing that Greg is going to have to make a move finally.  God
knows what he is waiting for anyway." She noted as a sharp observation with
that slightly wicked look in her eyes.

   I stood and looked in the mirror, the dress hid nothing, the thin fabric
over my breasts, tight over my nipples, the two small dimples pressing into
the soft slightly glistening fabric.  The neckline allowing a tulle panel
above the satin to expose the curves of my small breasts, a glimpse of my
gentle cleavage.  From there the dress descending over my hips, the line of
the suspender belt now imprinted into the satin fabric above my hips.  The
curves of my hips and legs accentuated by the thin strips, and then the
pretty tulle below the hem showing off the stocking tops.

   I could feel every part of the outfit so clearly, the soft satin on my
skin, the suspender belt tight around my waist, the g-string tight between
my cheeks and soft over my pussy.

   I slipped into some medium heel sandals to complete the look.  Jenny was
wearing a silver head band around her head, her long hair tied up in a
French plait.

   "You should put your hair up too, ideally we should have it cut into a
short bob, but I think that would be taking the whole thing too far!" She
observed.

   I quickly tied my hair up in a plaited updo, and then looked over at
her. We stood there in complimentary and yet contrasting outfits, she
helped me with some subtle and yet stylish make-up to enhance my eyes and
cheek bones, then we shared a daring red on our lips.  Finally, she got two
long strings of pearls from her bag and handed me ones.

   "Here, these will really complete the look." She commented as I thanked
her for all her efforts.

   "You look great, really great, you know that?" Jenny enthused as we were
finally done.  I kind of thought that she looked a lot better than I did,
but I could see that in some ways my fair skin and blue eyes worked well
with the black and white dress, and that my more boyish figure worked
better with the straight dress.

   We walked out of my room with our clutch bags, and I felt terrified as I
walked across the college to the halls where the ball was to be held.  I
looked up at the velvet blackness of the night, the stars twinkling down at
me.  I felt nervous, shivered as the cooler breeze of the evening blew
across my back.

   The Ball

   We walked into the main hall, and I was glad that it was pleasantly
warm, in fact perhaps even a little too warm, but as my dress was
essentially backless with just thin spaghetti straps, I wasn't worried
about that.  As I walked into the main hall, there was a rock band playing,
and I felt a little self-conscious as a number of people, guys and women
looked over at me, appraising my outfit.

   Fortunately, almost everyone had made a big effort for this, the last
ball of the term, and many of the women were in lovely dresses, some simple
cocktail dresses, some more exuberant dresses, colourful and revealing,
some were just in little clubbing outfits, tight and sexy.  Most of the
guys were in black tie, or at least in nice shirts and ties.  While I saw
many eyes on my figure, I felt that I fitted in well enough, not too
extravagant and not too boring either.

   Jenny and I picked up some drinks from a waiter with a tray as we
entered, he smiled at me and moved on quickly.  We watched the first band
for a few minutes and then walked through into the second smaller hall
where Jenny had determined the jazz was playing.

   This room was smaller, darker with deep brown wooden walls and paintings
of dead old guys frowning down on the jollities that were taking place
below.  The band was at the end of the room on a raised stage, a pianist,
bass player, brass and a singer, a tall black woman in a striking sparkling
dress highlighted in the spotlights.  She was singing some easy-going jazz,
and Jenny and I quickly moved to the dancefloor and joined into the
contented crowd moving in time with the music.

   Jenny brought the same level of enthusiasm to dancing that she did to
the rest of her life, and we quickly found ourselves an integral part of
the dancefloor, creating a little hub around ourselves as the tempo of the
music picked up and our natural reticence wore off.  A second glass of wine
quickly demolished by the bar probably helped.

   We danced happily for an hour or so, sometimes as a couple, sometimes
with a group of others as the ball started to fill up.  The dance floor got
more and more busy, bodies starting to glance off each other as we were all
forced to make room for the new dancers.  I felt myself getting hot from
the exertion of the faster numbers and knew that my chest and front were
glowing.

   I glanced down and noticed that the white stripes of the dress were
becoming noticeable less opaque as they got a little moist from my body. 
Where they had been bright white at the start of the night, now even in the
intense lights that sometimes cut across the dancefloor they appeared more
of the tone of my skin.

   Jenny looked down to see what it was that I was looking at and was
amused to realise that my dress was becoming even less decent as the
evening warmed up.  She giggled with me and started to make me dance even
faster, eager to maximise my discomfort.

   The tempo of the music rose for a while and Jenny became more and more
animated in her moves, hands above her head, making the most of the beat.
At one point I pulled back from her a little and saw just how much of her
she was showing off, the hem of her dress pulled high as she danced, the
lace tops of her stockings peering out from under it, sometimes even
glimpses of her bare thighs above it.

   Around us, other dancers watched her, glancing down from her low-cut top
to her legs, drinking in all the view that she was intent on sharing.  I
watched her dancing, and then decided to enjoy myself as well, I too
re-doubled my movements, dancing hands over my head, letting the dress rise
and fall, both the short hem and the low-cut neckline showing off my body.
I let my hands rest on my hair, playing with the neat patterns plaited into
my hair, showing off my arms and shoulders.

   There were plenty of guys more than happy to enjoy the view and I made
eye contact with a few, checking out their arms, shoulders, crotch as they
enjoyed looking at me, my bare back, lightly covered cleavage, and legs.

   A few minutes later, I noticed Greg and his nerdy friend were standing
at the small bar in this room, watching the crowd, perhaps even watching
us, listening to the band, and chatting.  I nodded to Jenny to indicate to
her that they were there, and we slowly worked our way from the middle of
the dancefloor over towards them.

   I felt the tension growing in my body now, while I had thought about
this evening being my chance to dance with him, suddenly to realise that
now was the moment it might happen made me almost freeze and I could feel
my heart beating in my chest.  Once we got close to them, I realised too
late that we couldn't just dance close to them without saying hello, it
would be too strange.

   I watched him as we got closer, he was 185cm I should think to my 160cm,
but fit, you could easily make out the muscles in his arms and shoulders
pressing on the crisp white fabric of his shirt, his jacket discarded
somewhere I presumed.  I looked over his chest and down to his crotch, the
bulge looked very enticing, and I felt a little wave of desire pass through
my body as I imagined him closer to me.

   "Hey Greg, how are you, it's good to see you here." It was the best I
could manage, and I immediately felt like an idiot for saying it.  Even as
I mumbled this, Jenny saw Jack, her boyfriend, and decided that that was
the moment to kiss me on the cheek and disappear.  I felt momentarily
bereft of my sponsor and mascot.

   Before I knew it, I was standing there in front of Greg in a short,
backless dress that was slowly becoming more and more transparent. 
Inevitably, he struggled to maintain eye contact with me as we chatted
about our course, I felt a little strange in the short, low-cut dress at
first, but I soon started to see a wolfish look in his eyes, a look of
desire, and there was no doubt now that it was me that he desired.

   "Hey, Greg....  Can we dance?" I finally managed to ask, I wanted to get
him away from his boring friend.  I wanted more than that, but I was sure
that I wanted to get him away from his friend.  I stood there, and time
almost stood still as well, he looked into my eyes.

   "Sure Clare, that would be fun." He replied, and he moved forwards and
took my hand, muttering something to his friend to excuse his abandonment.

   And that was that, suddenly we were there, on the dancefloor, facing one
another and dancing slowly, casually moving to the music, his eyes trying
to keep locked with mine, but failing from time to time as he glanced down
to my chest.

   The beat of the music slowed a little and I moved a little closer to
him, and then let my hand rest on his arm, he sensed my wishes and shuffled
closer as we danced synchronised, closing as we circled one another.  I was
surprised how good he was at dancing, I thought he would be quite
restrained, a little wooden but he had some moves and soon relaxed into it.

   "Hold me."

   Finally, I could take no more, my body was demanding attention, I wanted
to feel his hands on my body, on my skin.  I looked into his eyes and
repeated the demand, almost pressing my body into his.  He looked at me and
took my body into his arms, putting his firm, muscled limbs around me and
resting his hands on my back, on the exposed skin from the backless dress.
I breathed out as I felt his firm chest and arms envelop me, I moved my
hands around him as well, around his neck, pulling my body up, my breasts
covered just by the thin satin of the dress.

   I felt my nipples hardening on the soft fabric, pressing into his chest,
the movement of the dance slowly arousing me as my body gently rubbed
against him.  I let the side of my head fall forward and rest against his
firm and welcoming shoulder, feeling the shapely lean form against my
cheek.

   We danced slowly and intimately, chatting for a little while, starting
to discuss more personal things, sharing some secrets and thoughts.  I was
surprised how much he seemed to know about me, about my interests and
things.  I guessed that he must have been doing his homework about me, and
I was flattered.

   We chatted about the project that we had done the previous term, about
some of the amusing comments our tutor had made about it, but it had been a
success, we had worked well together, and I think that increased our
closeness.

   I leant into him and felt his hands, one resting on my back, the other
falling lower, moving down the little dip of my spine, until it came to the
top of the fabric, just above my bum.  Then he let it fall lower, let it
move lower to feel for the suspender belt, and then the back of the thong.
I heard him utter a little 'Mm.' as he appreciated how I had dressed for
him.

   "Clare, you are the sexiest woman in this room, you know that.  I can't
believe that you have come to this ball dressed like this, showing off your
stockings, here in a backless dress, with....  Well with so little else.  I
really can't tell you how great you look here.  When we worked together
last year you seemed so shy and controlled and, you know.  Now you seem to
have changed, now you just seem completely out of my league"

   I heard the words and felt quite moved, quite aroused, flattered that as
well as finding out about me, he also had appreciated my outfit.

   "Well, most of that is down to Jenny, it is her you should thank for a
lot of that change.  And, I am not out of your league." I explained, my
arms around his neck, my hips pressed to him, feeling his cock pressed into
my stomach.  I felt my body respond, I wanted to tell him how much I wanted
him but I didn't think I needed to express it in words.

   "So how does it feel then, to dance here in such a dress, to show off
yourself like this?  Do you enjoy being so exposed?  I love it, but, well,
it doesn't seem quite your style.  You always seemed like....  Well like a
'good girl' and now I find you in my arms, and you are showing so much,
letting me touch you like this."

   I blushed at his words, but I knew they were true, and I didn't care at
all really.

   "It feels good, it is about time I get out of my shell a bit.  That is
what Jenny keeps telling me anyway." I danced from side to side, pressing
my stomach and breasts to him as I moved.  I could feel the fabric of my
dress stimulating my nipples, and I was also aware of the ever growing, and
hardening feeling from his crotch pressed into my body.

   The music changed again, a faster number and we separated.  I glanced
down at my dress, the white lines semi-transparent from the moisture of my
body, the lines of the suspender belt and my thong visible through the
little stripes, even the slightly darker area around my pussy of the pink
thong.

   As we danced, I watched Greg's eyes, mostly on my eyes but sometimes
slowly descending, down across my cleavage, down over my hips, down over my
thigs and legs.  I gloried in the feeling as we danced, knowing he was
watching, letting him see me like this, the hem of my dress dancing up and
down as I moved, the stripes of the stocking tops glinting on my white
thighs as I moved.  I could see from the bulge in Greg's crotch that his
cock was quite hard, I had felt it on my stomach, and now I could see the
shaft concealed in his trousers.

   I knew there were plenty of other guys enjoying the view of me, watching
me, watching him, I saw them out of the corner of my eyes, but I wasn't
interested in them.  I was enjoying the dancing, but I knew it would not
last forever.  I wondered to myself what could come next, what I wanted to
happen next even.

   Suddenly, from nowhere there was explosion of activity to my side, the
couple next to us having to move out the way.  Jack and Jenny pushed the
surrounding dancers away from us.  I could see as they arrived in fact,
that it was Jenny in the lead, Jack following with a happy but resigned
look on his face.  He glanced at me as he arrived, I supposed he had heard
of me, and I enjoyed seeing him look at me.  I wonder how he felt I
compared to the most perfect Jenny.

   "Clare, this hall is finishing in a few mins, there is a dance in the
main hall, but, more fun, there is an after party in the New Block.  You
know Miranda, well she and the others are having a corridor after-party. 
We should go, the band in the other room is pretty dull, and this will be a
lot more wild, more fun."

   She took my hand with her other free hand, then turned to Greg, almost
as an after though.

   "Greg, you better come along as well.  Now that you two have finally got
together, Clare is definitely going to be needing you later." She grinned
at me, at him.  Jack rolled his eyes, he was obviously very used to being
treated like this.



   Being Seen Ch.  03

   After the ball, Jenny and Clare go partying.

   "Come on Clare, keep up.  Miranda will let us into her corridor once I
call her but she's...  well she won't wait all night." Jenny dragged me
across the college square, both of us dressed in our 1920s flapper dresses.
Greg and Jack were following along behind in slightly neglected black tie,
they had the air of obedient pets playing 'following the leader'.

   We entered the glass, steel and concrete student halls, and climbed the
bare concrete stairs, when we got to the second floor, Miranda was standing
holding the door open, chatting to another girl.  Both of them were dressed
in short, tight dark clubbing dresses together with heels.  I had never
been one for clubbing dresses, too short, too tight, too revealing, but now
I had to admit to myself that my own dress was at least as revealing,
perhaps more so, and I felt great in it.

   "Hey, Jenny, come on in, and Clare too, nice, and don't you both look
the part in your vintage outfits....  Even, stockings, well aren't you the
loose women." She giggled as she and her friend appraised our outfits

   "Ooh and guys too, well they look good enough to eat." Miranda kissed
Jenny and I on the cheeks as we passed her.  I knew her moderately well
from a few other socials, but I didn't know many of her social group.  We
were ushered inside into the vestibule.  As the guys passed her, she also
kissed them on the cheeks and I felt a moment of proprietorship over Greg,
in a completely unjustifiable way.

   "Leave anything you want in my room, which is that one there.  It should
be moderately safe." Miranda gestured to the only closed door of the four
doors coming off the central area.  We deposited various jackets and things
there and then walked back through.  There were perhaps 20 people spread
between the remaining rooms, which seemed to have been repurposed as
drinking in the kitchen, a dark dancing room, and another room for
collapsing exhausted in a deep red light.

   Jenny and I walked into the kitchen and joined a collection of
course-mates, drinking glasses of Aperol from a never-ending bowl which was
being topped up from a collection of bottles sitting on the side.  We took
some glasses and joined into the general banter.  Greg and Jack similarly
sloped off into the lounge room to join some friends in a discussion of
bloke matters.

   I quickly felt a sensation of loss though, I had been enjoying dancing
with Greg, had enjoyed feeling him close to me, his hands on me, and wanted
him back.  I wanted him back before he discovered the delights of anyone
else.

   I detached myself politely from the girl chat and walked out of the
kitchen, into the lounge room.  Greg was sitting on a desk in the other
room, chatting to another guy.  He saw me enter the room and I watched the
look in his eyes on me as I walked to him.  How his eyes scanned down my
face, shoulders, breasts, hips.  I felt that same thrill again that I had
felt earlier, knowing the look in his eyes betrayed desire.

   I walked to him, stood right in front of him and looked at his face, his
arms, looked at the way that his shoulders and arms filled the shirt, at
the curves of his muscles, then down to his flat stomach, his crotch, his
pleasantly curved thighs in the suit trousers.  I wanted him to know what
it was like to be observed in an overtly objectifying way.  The
conversation between him and his friend died out and there was a moment of
stillness as we all let the moment hang in the air.  Then I reached forward
and took his hand, felt his rough hand on mine, his hands warm.  I pulled
him to his feet, effortlessly sliding off the desk, he followed me without
any question, a slight grin crossing his mouth as he did so.

   He shared a glance with his friend as he took my hand more firmly, his
fingers interlacing with mine as we walked out of the room, and into the
dancing room.  The lights were out, and instead they had some fairy lights,
a rotating laser disco light projecting onto the ceiling.  The atmosphere
in the room was hot and sweaty, perhaps 10 people moving concertedly to the
heavy beat.

   I took Greg's free hand, and pulled him round to face me, put my arms
around his neck and pressed myself to him, pressed my hips just below his
cock, felt his bulge on my stomach, my small breasts sliding against his
shirt.  I luxuriated in the utter physicality of it, the music, the smell
of his body against mine.  I let my head turn and rest on his chest.  He
let out a sigh, the feeling of his hardening cock against my stomach
telling me that he was enjoying it just as much as I was.

   We danced like that for a while, his hands on my back, on my bum,
feeling the lines of my suspender belt, feeling the thin bands of my
g-string descending between my cheeks, sometimes resting on the firm curves
of my bum.  Sometimes we danced close, enjoying our bodies pressed
together, sometimes we pulled further away and looked at each other as we
danced hand in hand.  I let him put his hands on my shoulders, arms, on the
sides of my chest, his palms resting just a cm from my barely covered
breasts.

   "Here you are!" Jenny arrived with a shriek and with Jack in tow.  "Oh,
you two look to be getting nice and close." She gestured at Greg
approvingly, and then took Jack's hands and embarked upon the most
enthusiastic and outrageous dance that I could imagine.  Her dress flew
around her like a child's wooden top, the hem pulled wide by the silvery
tassels, rising higher to show off her legs, the tops of her stockings
peeking out.

   We danced as a foursome, Jenny and I dancing wildly, the guys playing
along, enjoying free range to watch us, hold us.  I sometimes pressed
myself close to Greg, put my arms around his neck, enjoyed his firm
shoulders and stomach, pressed my hips to him, feeling his crotch pressing
on me, his cock nicely hard expressing the unspoken arousal we both felt.

   We had some more to drink, a bottle of vodka passed around between us
and the atmosphere ratcheted up to higher levels of arousal and excitement.
The beat quickened, the dancing grew wilder, and the couples broke up for a
while, all of us utterly involved in movement with the deep, almost
threatening beat.  It grew hotter and sweatier in the room, there was a fug
of testosterone and alcohol pervading the whole room.  The guys grew less
controlled, looking at us with wolfish grins, scanning from chest to legs
without control.

   In the heat of the dance, some of the guys discarded their shirts,
swinging them around over their heads and I watched Jenny undoing Jack's
shirt.  Pulling it off him and swinging it around over her head like a
trophy.  She ran her hands over his shoulders, his rugby club figure,
swollen triceps and biceps.  She danced behind him and even in the dark, I
could see her running her hands down over his hips, feeling his cock in his
trousers.

   I decided to go for broke and walked up to Greg, let him put his hands
back on my bare shoulders, looked up into his eyes and smiled.  He knew
what was coming, he was, by this time, the only guy wearing a shirt in the
room anyway.  I grinned, furtively, and then moved my fingers to the
buttons at the top of his shirt.  I had never undone a guy's shift before.
My fingers shook a little as I undid the button, one at a time.  My fingers
sometimes slipping inside the shirt, feeling his chest, not so developed as
Jack, but firm and warm, nonetheless.

   I undid the top buttons, it felt innocent enough, and then the lower
ones, which did not.  My discomfort growing as I exposed more and more of
his chest, our bodies still moving together as I did so, the fabric
starting to flap open.  Eventually it was open, his white chest with a
pleasant covering of brown hair now available to me.  I moved my hands to
his shoulders, ran then inside the shirt, my hands now touching his bare
skin, and slipped the shirt off his shoulders.

   My hands were tingling as I felt his body, pressed the shirt down his
arms and then caught it before it fell to the floor.  He was watching my
every motion, obviously so aware of my hands on his warm skin.  I followed
the lead of the others, and swung the shirt above my head, like a trophy
before slinging it across the room, onto the pile of warm damp garments
that had gathered on the messy bed.

   Dancing with Greg without a shirt changed the entire dynamic of it, my
hands now on his bare skin, when I pressed myself to him, I felt his body
warm and soft next to mine, I could feel my own arousal growing, and I felt
sure that I felt his as well as I moved my hips to his.  He touched me more
boldly, his hands resting on my back, on my bum, on the sides of my body,
his wrists on the sides of my breasts.

   Jenny was by this time dancing wildly with a couple of the other girls,
Miranda and another that I didn't know.  She was chatting with Miranda
animatedly, they were discussing something that they both found hilarious.
I could see a ferocious abandon in her, the way her body moved, her hips
and breasts moving with the beat.

   Then Miranda, pulled at her dress, lifting it from the hem, and pulled
it up over her head, it was tight but so stretchy that it easily came up,
and I watched as she pulled it, lifting it over her white thong, and then
over a strapless padded bra, nude so that it matched her skin tone.  The
guys went wild, now seeing her dancing in just her underwear.

   Of course, Jenny had been plotting this all along, and she reached
behind her dress, undoing the zip at the back and letting the straps fall
down her shoulders, off her arms, the tassels falling to the floor as she
too was left in white knickers and bra.  The thick strap behind her,
holding her generous curves in place.

   I felt a moment of realisation, as slowly, the other women all shed
their dresses, and some of the guys shed their trousers.  The tension grew
in my stomach as the other two girls near me were slowly but inexorably
stripped to their knickers and bras.  The atmosphere in the room was
reaching new heights of excitement.  All the others were now looking around
for a new victim, the last person still properly dressed.

   Miranda started a new chant, stamping and clapping in time to the music,
"Greg...Greg.."

   Greg looked down at me, I don't know if the others had any idea that we
were really just dancing, that we hadn't even kissed at this point, but it
was clear that they were not taking no for an answer at this point.  I felt
my heart beating faster, I considered running away, running to the kitchen,
hiding.

   "It's OK." I murmured to Greg.  "You can do it, I know Miranda and
Jenny, and they won't just let me get away with it."

   Greg looked around, the crowd were getting rowdier, their calls more
insistent.  I could see that this was making him nervous.  I had expected
that he had been with other women before, but now I could see that perhaps
I was wrong.  He was obviously thinking the same as me, that the others had
all been wearing strapless bras under their dresses, whereas he knew that I
wasn't.

   "You are sure, it will be...  erm...  more for you...  you are really
sure?" He asked, I could see doubt in his eyes.

   "I am sure Greg.  You can take my dress off here...  I want you to.  It
has a zip at the back you will have to undo though." I finally concluded,
sounding surer than I felt.

   The other girls were closing in on us like a shiver of sharks, clapping
and calling.  Dancing to the music in their knickers and bras.  I looked
over at Jenny dancing in her stockings and suspenders, almost like she was
dancing in a cabaret.  She knew surely that I was naked under the dress,
the back was so low that it didn't leave any other option.

   The other guys pulled back, perhaps aware that I was nervous, that Greg
was nervous, aware that they were going to get to see more by playing it
cool than by getting in my face.  I turned my back to Greg and felt his
hands on my back, I felt I could feel them shaking a little as well, as he
felt to the back of the dress, to the zip, and started to slowly pull it
down.

   I felt the fabric on the front of the dress relaxing a little, the
tension slipping from it.  I felt the thin spaghetti straps loosening on my
shoulders.  I stopped dancing, and when the zip couldn't go lower, I turned
to face Greg.  The dress was barely hanging on to me now, I could feel it
slipping on my skin, the front had already fallen a little, my breasts
barely covered by the loose flaps.

   I made eye contact with Greg, I could see real nerves now but the girls
around him were egging him on, shouting lude comments of encouragement.  I
made eye contact with him and tried to smile, tried to appear ready, to
appear unconcerned, although my heart was hammering away in my chest at the
thought of what I was doing.  I had been on the beach in a bikini, a few
times, and had even been topless for a few minutes once, but nothing even
approaching this.

   He moved his hands to my shoulders, took each of the two straps in his
fingers, and lifted them a little.  There was screaming from Jenny, as the
front was pulled away from my body a little, as the sides of my breasts
were exposed.  Then he lowered them, down either side of my arms.  I let my
arms fall to my sides to allow it to slip down.

   Greg lowered the straps, I felt the front of the dress slipping down
over my nipples, felt them stimulated by the soft silky fabric as he
lowered it.  I looked at him, saw his eyes on me, as he lowered it,
watching as the top curve of my small light pink nipples became visible. 
He continued, exposing the hard slightly puffy nipples, I saw his eyes
widen, almost unable to believe what he was doing.

   Once he lowered the neckline below the edge bottom edge of my breasts,
exposed them completely, the other girls went mad with screaming.  Perhaps
Jenny had known that I wasn't wearing a bra, but the others did not, and I
could see shock in their faces that I had allowed him to undress me, to
show myself topless, to stand there in the room and let Greg and the other
guys see me like this.

   The dress, under his almost disbelieving control continued its descent.
He lowered it past my hands, stomach, exposing my suspender belt, then the
thong, then the stocking tops, until I stepped out of it and he was left
standing there holding it, looking very uncomfortable.  I felt the most
showed, the most naked that I had ever felt, and yet I felt a heady glee, a
freedom that I had never experienced before.

   I didn't want it to be a moment of unease though, I wanted him to want
me.  I grabbed the dress from him and tossed it carelessly onto the bed, as
though I was completely used to dancing topless in a room of friends.  I
put my arms back around his neck and pulled myself to him, pulled his head
down, and kissed him on the lips for the first time, even let my tongue
graze his lips.

   Now that my breasts were pressed to his chest, I somehow felt more
covered, even though I was only covered by his body, by the fact that my
naked top was pressed to his naked top, my nipples pressed to his.

   The scandal of my taking off my top, my lack of bra, my dancing with
Greg was soon forgotten as all the couples recombined and the dancing
approached a new level of erotic intensity.  I watched as the guys all
enveloped the girls with their arms, watch as they touch their backs, their
bums.  I feel aroused as I look at them, the girls in knickers and bras,
the guys in trousers or shorts.

   I look at the guys, at their cocks barely covered and see how they are
all somewhat aroused, as their hands roamed over the girls' barely covered
bodies.  The look on many of their faces was of desire, of wanting,
arousal.

   I dance with Greg for another few songs, for some I pull back and just
dance looking at him, his eyes wander, he obviously feels no discomfort in
my exposure.  He looks down at me, at my breasts, and then back to me eyes,
I can see his cock hard, can easily make out the shaft of his cock pressing
into his slightly tight trousers.

   I watch as Jack touches Jenny, holds her, but then see one of her hands
on his cock, massaging him below as he touches her back, I can see his back
arching, his body becoming more and more aroused.  I see her slip her hand
into his flies and take his cock, playing with it under his trousers.  His
head falling back as she pleasures him.

   I think to myself, that perhaps it might be time to leave, perhaps it is
time to go further, further than just being seen.