“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.