Rose turned and began to loosen the ribbon ties that crisscrossed over her back. The bodice was so tight that lines, clearly visible to the front row, had been cut into the flesh of her back. She could feel each one, but like the gentle sting that came with a tangle of curl, she was used to this slight discomfort. Craved it, even. Despite being so constricted, she moved with a dancer’s grace, twisting and turning until she faced them again. A coquettish smile played on her lips as she delighted in their growls of frustration. She was teasing them. Only at the last possible moment would she reveal the hidden pearlescent flesh.
Her middle, soft and curvaceous, was smoothed into an unyielding cylindrical form that tapered toward her hips. Her ample breasts peeked just over the top hem of the undergarment and if anyone had looked closely, they would have seen just the hint of rose-café areola exposed in a flurry of lace. She moved her hands over her hips and up her sides until finally arriving at the sumptuous globes of her bosom. She caressed them with her palms, her bright-red nails standing out over the milky skin. She tugged gently at the corset, a tiny promise of what was surely to come. They could hear the tiny snaps hidden at the front of the corset begin to give way. The climax of the song had arrived and Rose ceased to move. Only her fingertips, gently working free the closures as she sang, gave any sign of movement. The crowd below was holding its collective breath. They knew that at any second she would pull the corset open with a savage flourish. The notes in her voice climbed higher as she strutted down the runway until finally, inevitably, she arrived at the end. Then, standing there in the midst of her admirers,
Rose held the final strains of the song, pulling the corset fully open and tossing it into the audience. The pasties over each nipple and the web of rhinestones over her sex glistened in the dim spotlight. She gave them only a moment to stare at her near-naked form. They reached and hissed at her, everyone wanting to caress even just the smallest bit of her flesh. Rose smiled and waved, blowing kisses to them all as they passed around the silk corset, pressing it to their noses to inhale her womanly perfume.
“Easy, boys,” she sighed, still breathless. “I wouldn’t want anyone to have a stroke.” Turning on her heel, she walked toward the wings. She paused for only a moment. “At least not until you get home.”
That Rose… I just love her. I want to be her when I grow up. At any rate, if you liked that bit, hop on over to Ellora’s Cave by clicking the image and grab a copy of “Ingenue” hot off the presses. You won’t be sorry…