Anthony and I often go to bars, though neither of us drink. Bars are especially good locations for dressing sexy, flashing pretty things, and drawing an interested audience.

A few weeks ago Anthony suggested we head to a bar we hadn't been to before on the other side of town.

Since I like to avoid running into people I know when Anthony is showing me off this way, I quickly agreed. I wore a short black dress that Anthony likes. Like most of my clothes, he likes this dress because it is easy to look down the open, loose top and see my breasts and it is easy to look up the short skirt to see. .

.

well.

. .

to see whatever I choose to show.

It?s the kind of dress that forces most women to sit motionless and concentrate on covering themselves constantly. I don't feel any such obligation to modesty. Anthony's Creative Juices Start To Flow Under my little black dress I wore an equally little blackslip that has just a trace of lace around the bodice and hem.

The lace is very pretty, of course, and when flashed at the right moments, draws the attention of my potential audience. Under my slip I wore skimpy pink panties with a matching garter belt and stockings with a wide band of lace at the top. We arrived around nine and the bar was not crowded. No other women were around so I had the few patrons to myself, I thought. No one noticed us at first since we sat at a raised booth in a far, dimly lit corner of the bar.

Anthony picked that one on purpose since, as I soon found out, he had plans. After a few minutes Anthony said, "I have something I want you to do.

" Feeling a bit playful, I replied, "Your wish is my command.

" "I want you to take off your dress, " Anthony said, "And spend the evening wearing just your slip." "What?" was the best response I could muster. I was not expecting Anthony to raise the stakes like this, in public, without our talking about it first. I was flushed with what I thought was anger. "I want you to take off your dress, " he repeated, ignoring my rhetorical "what?" completely, acting as though maybe I hadn't heard him. "From a short distance, your slip looks like just another 'little black dress.' And for those who get closer. . .that's the fun part." I sat thinking about this for a moment.

My whole body was tingling, at first with anger and then, I realized, with anticipation. This was what it was all about, I told myself - the anticipation of some sexual adventure, of pushing past normal expectations and surprising myself and my admirers with audacious acts and risky behavior. And, I thought, what the hell? It's not like I'd be naked in front of a bunch of bikers.

I slipped out of my side of the booth, crossed around to Anthony and stood with my back to him. "O.K Unzip me, " I said surprising both of us a little.

"I thought you could go to the ladies room to take off your dress, " he said. "If I'm going do it, I'm going to do it all, " I answered. "No one will notice us back here anyway.

And if they do, well.

. .

how did you put it? 'That's the fun part'.

" The Reinvention Of The Little Black Dress Still seated Anthony reached up a began to unzip my dress.

He moved agonizingly, provocatively lowly. I closed my eyes as the dress fell open revealing the lace edging and satin straps of my slip. I knew that Anthony was moving slowly to prolong the moment and give every man in the room plenty of time to see him expose me this way. He pushed the dress off my shoulders gathering it at my waist, hesitating, leaving me half dressed, half undressed, savoring the moment, and leaving me to imagine the growing number of leering eyes on my exposed body. After a very long moment, he ran his hands down my shoulders, to my hips, and shoved the dress to the floor. I couldn't move. I couldn't open my eyes.

The familiar mixture of humiliation and arousal, of defiance and exposure, kept me frozen, afraid and excited imagining the moment when I would look back at the men looking at me. "Open your eyes, " Anthony said. I did. An interested few noticed us and were staring, waitingfor the next move. Most were not obviously taking in our performance.

I surprised myself by being more disappointed than relieved. I decided that I would recreate the delicious danger of the last few minutes if I had to get naked and dance on the bar. Well. . .

maybe not that. "Why don't you go up to the bar and get us some drinks?" Anthony suggested, sensing my disappointment.

He was giving me my first opportunity to work the room. I was ready to go. I walked to the bar and took a seat between two businessmen types.

Out-of-towners judging from the conference badges they were wearing.

Getting up on the barstool gave me a chance to raise the edge of my slip and give them a look at the lace tops of my stockings but they both looked away as soon as I was settled. I could see them glancing slyly in my direction whenever they thought they could get away with watching. I crossed my legs letting my slip ride higher on my thighs since that is what I thought they would like to see. One seemed intent on watching the curve of my breasts and the shape of my nipples through the thin fabric. I leaned over the bar to give him a better look down the front of my slip. By now they both must have figured out that I was wearing just a slip. They were only a few inches away from the pretty lace and smooth satin and could see how it clung to my body.

I turned toward Anthony and recrossed my legs slowly so that he could get a good look up my between my legs. This caught the interest of another man sitting alone near our table and he couldn't keep his eyes off me from then on. Maybe this wouldn't be such as hard room after all.

The bartender brought the drinks and I made an elaborate show out of getting the money from my purse. This to give these guys more opportunity to watch when they thought I was distracted and wouldn't catch them. As I slid down off the barstool, the edge of my slip again rose to my stocking tops and I left it suspended there, revealing my legs and a little thigh, while I reached for the drinks.

As I walked back to the table, I realized that all the eyes were on me. I think they were a little stunned and maybe a little excited. I think they had finally figured out that I was only half dressed.

And that, of course, made me just a little excited.

The man sitting near our table who woke up when I crossed my legs at the bar sent us drinks and we acknowledged them politely. Anthony suggested that I ask him to join us. I declined, wanting a rest from prying eyes after my trip to the bar. I needed to cool off. After a bit, a small band began playing and the bar began to fill up.

Mostly convention types staying at the adjacent hotel. That was fine with me.

Guys on the road appreciate my little shows.

They don't have to worry about getting caught staring by a friend. . .or their wife. Dancing In The Dark .

. .Well, It Was Actually Pretty Light Anthony and I danced and he pulled me close which, of course,had the effect of raising my slip and showing my legs. He let his had slide down to my soft place while he told me how proud to say nothing of horny he was to see me looking and acting so sexy. I glanced toward the man who had sent us drinks.

"Do you want me to ask that man to dance?" I asked, knowing the answer, knowing that Anthony was ready to watch another man touch me. And I also knew that I was ready to be touched. "Sure, " he replied. "And ask him how he likes your dress." I walked over the man who had sent us the drinks and bent over his table to give him a good look down the front of my slip.

"Would you dance with me?" I said, taking his hand before he answered. His answer was sort of a stammer.

I guess he had no way to expect to be approached by a woman in her lingerie, in a strange city, in the middle of a bar, asking him to put his hands on her partially clothed body. We danced awkwardly at first. He didn't seem to know where to put his hands. I pulled him closer pressing myself against him and he responded by wrapping his hand around my waist and letting it slip to my hip.

"How do you like my dress?" I said, my mouth inches from his ear. "It's very, uh, pretty." he stammered back.

"It's not really a dress, you know.

I'm only wearing a slip.

I removed my dress a little while ago. Can't you tell from the lace and how smooth the fabric feels?" I said.

"Well, yes. I thought maybe. .

." he trailed off, not knowing what to say. I wrapped both arms around his neck as we danced, pulling myself closer.

I could feel the lace hem of my slip against the skin of my thighs above my stockings. I knew both the lace tops of my stockings and the neat clips of my garters were uncovered. As we turned slowly, I could see tables full of men watching me, many of them talking with friends. I imagined they were talking about me, comparing notes, saying all manner of sexy, dirty things about the half dressed woman showing herself like this.

"Why don't you rest your hands a little lower?" I suggested, tentatively, knowing that he was already furtively moving toward my soft place. "Won't your husband be upset?" "He'll probably be upset if you don't" I replied. He carefullybegan to caress my soft place through the thin satin. My knees were starting to weaken, not from his caress, which was pleasant but hardly arousing.

I was starting to feel overwhelmed by my own excitement and exposure in this increasing public display.

I could see Anthony smiling, obviously enjoying me as much as the others, reveling in what he knew were the edgy feelings I was experiencing, feelings of both exhilaration and shame.

The song ended and I dragged my new conquest back to our table.

I sat between Anthony and my new friend Tom was his name so they could both enjoy my company -- and so I could get a break from the eyes around the room.

Tom stayed with us for the rest of the evening. As soon as he realized that neither Anthony nor I were upset with his interest in me, he couldn't keep his hands off me. He would caress my hand and arm while we talked, place his hand on my knee, sliding the edge of my slip higher at every opportunity.

He became more adventuresome after a few drinks, of course. It came time to go. Anthony and I were beyond hot by now and really needed to find a private place to take care of that. Tom asked cautiously if he could go with us and we had to disappoint him. He seemed OK with what he had so far, realizing the going past looking and a little touching was beyond our repertoire.

Just A Small Remembrance "Why not give Tom something to remember you by?" Anthonyasked. "What did you have in mind, Anthony?" "How about giving Tom your panties, Veronica? They'd certainlybe a fitting remembrance of our evening." I was just a little surprised, but, as usual, also a littleexcited by the prospect.

And Anthony's suggestion gave me another idea. "Tom, " I said, sliding out of my seat and standing next to him, "Would you like me to give you the panties I'm wearing? I think it's about time I got out of them anyway." "Sure.

That would be great, " he responded, still a little unsure.

I turned my back to him, my soft place nearly in his face, and said, "Go ahead, Tom, help yourself." "I don't understand, " he said, absolutely sincerely. I leaned back to him with instructions. "You need to reach up under my slip and take them off, Tom." Tom looked around to see if anyone was looking.

It was impossible to tell just how many people would see him with his hands up my slip, just as it was earlier when Anthony removed my dress. By now, I didn't care. Tom obviously decided that he didn't either. I felt his hands sliding up my legs, hesitating to feel the lace tops of my stockings, moving to the front of my legs, reaching finally for the lace and satin. When he reached the elastic of my panties, I placed my hands on his pressing them against me. "Wait, " I said.

"Just touch me there for a second." The feel of his hands on my skin, ready to uncover me there, knowing that others were probably watching, made the moment too exciting to hurry. Tom had raised the edge of my slip to expose my legs almost completely, the pink, rough lace of my garters standing out in sharp contrast to the black slip in our dimly lit corner. "OK.

.

.go ahead, Tom. Pull my panties down." Tom had finally caught on. He pulled the front of my pantiesaway from my body very slowly and began to pull them down my thighs. When he reached my knees, he hesitated and gently ran his fingers back up the front of my thighs, then tentatively over the fine stubble of my recently trimmed pubic hair and around to take one quick firm caress of my now naked soft place.

I was about to fall over from the danger and excitement of being touched this way, exposed this way, by a near stranger, in a public place, with my dress long gone and my panties now visible at my knees to any who glanced in our direction. Anthony, seated next to me, took my hand, and smiled his loving, appreciative smile while Tom then guided my panties to the floor.

Anthony stood and helped me step away from Tom, his hands now cradling the small bundle of pink lace and satin as if there were filled with magic and danger.

It probably was. Without hesitating I quickly sat next to Tom and kissed him long and hard and wet. While I kissed him I moved his hand to my breast and he needed no encouragement to caress me there. My hand moved between his legs and I, too, got in a few goodbye caresses while we finished our kiss.

As we left, I watched as he sat there quietly toying with my panties laying in front of him on the table.