She was wearing a skin tight red bodysuit when we first noticed her.She was wearing a skin tight red bodysuit when we first noticed her. There was nothing left to the imagination with this suit - you could see the outline of her small yet nicely shaped breasts, and every now and then, even the nipples would show. The suit clung to her waist and hips, and showed a pair of well formed legs. And yet what it didn't show was just as important - there were no lines from any underwear of any kind - no panties, and no bra. We had been looking for some time for someone who would be willing to participate in a menage a' trois with us, and she looked like a willing partner. She noticed us throughout the evening looking at her, savoring her body. Even though the suit was very revealing, we wondered what she actually looked like under that red lycra. She was the keyboardist for the band, saucily swinging her hips in time to the music which they were playing. As the evening wore on, we danced closely with one another, our pelvises rubbing together in an activity which resembled a mating ritual more than the dance which it was. After they had finished playing, we complimented the band on the fine job they had done. Since they had played in this bar several times before, they all had friends which they enjoyed libations with after their show. We joined their party, and bought the woman in the red bodysuit a drink. Her name was Amy, and she was young - only nineteen - although spending time with the band had forced her to grow up quickly. She was worldly beyond her years, and was making some suggestive comments in no time. She mentioned that she had just broken up with her boyfriend, and that she was lonely. She was interested in meeting someone soon, because her horniness was quickly becoming even stronger than the loneliness. We asked her if she met many men while she was out on the road, and she replied that most of the men she met while with the band were not her type. When we asked what her type was, she looked right straight at Dan, and said "Someone like you would do! But I suppose that your girlfriend might mind if I stole you away from her." We bought another round, and spent some time getting to know one another better. Dan's apartment is right above the bar, so it didn't matter to us how much we drank - there was no worry about having to drive home drunk. |