Carla's Pals Give Thanks for Her

"Did you SEE that?" Keith asked.

"I can't, I mean, how was that even..." Tim sputtered.

"Ohhhhh, crap..." mumbled Carla, "No. Fucking.Way." Without being aware she was doing it, she backed halfway to the back door of the bar, some instinct to escape taking hold of her.

Final score: Dallas 24 Washington 21

Carla's head was spinning, she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears,and she had broken out in goosebumps. As suggestive as she'd been making her moments in the spotlight, and as mercilessly as she'd been teasing her small audience, she really hadn't exposed her most private areas. She'd shown off her cleavage, her belly, her legs, but other than her ass briefly being on display, she'd managed to keep her exposure more or less a PG-13 rated show. The final score and terms of the bet now required her to ramp up her performance to a solid R rating.

"Do they really expect me to get naked?" she wondered, "That was a total freak of a play, if they ran it 100 times it would never once come out like that again!" She noticed Keith and Tim were still watching replays of the bizarre once in a lifetime play, giving her some time to think about what to do next. She felt like she was trapped in a no-win situation, having to choose between completely exposing herself or bailing out on a bet; actually bailing out twice, counting the original bet she'd backed out of. She'd never welshed out on a bet before, and definitely had never been nude in public! It looked like one of those streaks was about to end.

"I'll explain to the guys that stripping naked in a bar is just not something a loan officer at the Bank of Ardmer is supposed to do!" she told herself, "I'm sure they won't be happy but they'll just have to understand." Then she remembered that besides being a poor excuse, it wasn't even relevant, since she was, as of 24 hours ago, an EX employee of the Bank of Ardmer.

Carla was about to interrupt Keith and Tim's ongoing enjoyment of replays with the bad news that she wasn't going to keep her end of their agreement when a small voice told her to hold up a minute and at least consider her options. Against what was left of her better judgment, she paused before trying to tear her friends away from the TV.

Her inner wild girl was beyond thrilled to be listened to for a change after being ignored for so many years. She eagerly made the case for Carla to overcome her fear and give up her last piece of clothing to settle her debt! "Okay," her wilder side admitted, "you're right, this is more than a step beyond your comfort zone; it's a whole lot of steps, big ones. But scary as the idea of honoring the bet is, there are SO many reasons you should do this!"

"You're leaving town in a few days, and never have to see these guys again after that.

These guys may be desperate to see you get naked, but they've always treated you like family; as excited as they are, they don't seem likely to get out of line.

If you don't follow through you'll always wonder what it would have felt like if you had!

The way gossip spreads around here, your ex is bound to hear about all this before long; you can stick him with an image he'll never be able to get out of his mind.

Most importantly, deep down you WANT to do this! You've gone way beyond what was required of you at every step of the way tonight; it really seems like you want to be seen at least as much as they want to see you."

Carla considered the advantages to completing her slow-motion striptease as she slowly shuffled towards Keith and Tim, shaking her head and whispering, "I just can't," over and over. When she was halfway back to the bar, something made her squint, and she realized she'd found her way to her place in the spotlight.

Her stripping spot.

"This can't be an accident," she thought, "Maybe I do want to...it's possible...I can try." Without bothering to disturb Keith and Tim, she began popping the handful of shirt buttons still fastened, quickly undoing them all. Ron was wiping down the bar and happened to glance up in time to see her undo the final button. He smiled at her; whatever she did next, she wouldn't be doing it unnoticed. She smiled back.

"Guys, forget about the stupid game, look!" Ron urged Keith and Tim, pointing towards Carla.

"Oh my God, she's really doing it!" Keith said quietly.

Seeing that her audience had noticed her activity, she shuddered and turned her back to them, but being discovered didn't make her want to stop this final performance; quite the opposite. She pushed her shirt well off her left shoulder and let the left sleeve slide down, then off of her arm. The mostly removed shirt fell away from her left side. Her awestruck fans now saw the entire left backside of her body from her head to her toes, including, when she turned slightly to look back at them, the outside of her left breast. Looking back over her uncovered shoulder to see how her fans were reacting, she repeated the process on her right sleeve, pulling it completely off with her left hand. She felt like her whole body was on fire when she let the shirt drop to the floor!

When she'd stepped in to the Whistlestop that afternoon, Carla could never have imagined that a few hours later she would be completely naked in the dingy bar, stripping for her own pleasure as much as for the three lucky men in the bar! None of this had been planned, and she was still winging it! Completely naked now, she was sure her friends would agree that she had paid them what they were due according to the terms of their bet, and more. "What more could they want," she thought, then turned the question around, asking herself, "What more can I do?" Carla knew she still had more she wanted to show her audience.

She stood still for a minute, partly to revel in the sensations this experience was producing, and also to think about what to do next. With her back still to her audience she raised both arms high over her head, clasped her hands together and stretched. She then brought her hands down to massage her lower back, inching slowly lower until both of her hands reached her ass. After a few minutes of kneading and massaging her butt, she almost felt ready to let her audience see the rest of her. She picked up her shirt and tied the sleeves in a shoelace knot, then put the sleeves over her head and draped the shirt over the front of her body like some kind of flannel apron, taking care to arrange it to cover the front of her breasts.

Satisfied that her boobs and pussy were well covered, at least from the front, Carla slowly turned to face her fans. After treating them to a nice long look at her naked side from head to toe, including a generous amount of side boob, she finally faced them. In yet another unplanned move, she slipped both of her hands under the loose flannel, unable to resist checking if her nipples were as stiff as they felt. After checking their state she went a bit further, squeezing her breasts and playing with her nipples, telling herself that the men couldn't see what her hands were doing under the fabric. The look on her face betrayed her secret, and the reactions of her audience made it clear that they knew what she was up to. The incredible feeling fondling her own mostly covered boobs provided deepened as she realized th ethree men watching her knew exactly what she was doing.

"I guess there's really no reason to hide now," she thought. She bunched the shirt up, shoving the narrowed fabric between her breasts, then went back to what she'd been doing, now in plain sight. She shuddered as she watched her audience watching her, the latest wave of pleasure even more intense now that her actions were exposed along with her breasts. Her right hand kept busy with her nipples, but she let her left hand trace a winding path down her belly, then lower, under the layer of flannel still covering her pussy. She ran her fingers all around her pussy, not sure if she even could frig herself here, like this, even with her shirt to hide behind.

Carla's fingernails circled closer and closer, then brushed lightly over the outer lips of her pussy, up one side and down the other, then again, reversing direction. She thought about how long it usually took for her to come without some help from her vibrator, but was in no particular hurry, so she continued her exploration. Keith, Tim and Ron eventually caught on to her latest escalation and reluctantly shifted their gaze away from her gorgeous breasts, down to where her left hand was moving around below the narrow band of fabric.

Carla's face flushed crimson when she saw her audience had shifted their attention to her latest project; she'd always been too self-conscious to masturbate in front of anyone, even with Ethan, and now she was doing it in front of her bar buddies! Somehow, being watched this way just made it hotter for her, "Hiding behind the shirt isn't fooling the guys, they see what I'm doing!" she thought, breathing a little harder as she thought about how she was being watched. She began exploring her wet inner lips, first with one finger, then harder with two, deeper and deeper. Adding a gentle rolling of her thumb over her clit, Carla already felt herself getting closer to coming than she had expected to get, but still wasn't sure if she'd be able to get off this way.

Her hand was starting to cramp up when she came up with one last option she hoped would take her over the edge. Her right hand had been busy lifting her right breast enough to bring its nipple within range of her tongue, but as wonderful as that had felt, she had a new mission for that hand. She reached up to her shoulder and found a loose end of the knot tying the sleeves of her shirt together. One good pull untied the knot, freeing the untethered shirt to slide off her neck. With her shirt now dangling from her right hand, covering nothing at all, her audience enjoyed their first clear look at her pussy. Clean-shaven other than a tiny patch of blonde pubes above her clit, its outer lips were puffy and inner ones glistening! She raised her hand, still clutching the sleeve high above her head, and spun it around until it was wrapped loosely around her hand and forearm. Panting, with her voice cracking, she looked Keith in the eye and said, "I guess...this...is yours...for now...", then tossed the shirt at him. He smiled and slung her payment for losing the 4th and final segment of their bet over his head and tied the sleeves together in front of his neck.

Carla carried on frigging herself, switching hands to give her left hand a rest. Seeing most of the clothing she'd been wearing when she'd left home this afternoon now draped over Keith's shoulders provided the last little push she needed to cross a point of no return; she closed her eyes and lost all track of how many waves swept over her, moaning softly during each peak, but smiling all the while. Still foggy, she heard what sounded like a small bell ringing in the distance. She hated to have her trance broken by some stupid commercial on the TV, and refused to open her eyes and come all the way back to reality. She finally gave in and opened them; she saw Keith, Tim, and Ron, frozen in the same spots they'd been in since she began getting her shirt off, still transfixed by the sight before them.

Carla also saw why she'd heard a bell a moment ago. She understood now that the ringing sound she'd heard had not come from the TV, but from the bell above the entrance to the bar, which must have been opened by the angry looking middle aged-woman bearing down on Keith! All three men were too distracted to notice either the bell or the footsteps of the woman approaching them from behind.

"I work all day at the store so you can hang out here and watch this slut?" the woman shouted at Keith.

"No, Rhonda, uhhh, I mean, it wasn't planned or anything, it just kinda happened," the startled man replied.

"She's his wife," Tim whispered to Carla.

"Thanks; I sorta guessed that," Carla whispered, mortified at having her shameless behavior seen by a total stranger, but having a hard time not laughing out loud.

"Shut up and get in the fucking car!" Rhonda hissed.

"But I need to..." Keith said before being cut off.

"NOW, ASSHOLE!" Rhonda screamed, then turning to Tim, added, "And don't think I'm not going to tell Cindy about this!"

Keith stopped arguing and meekly followed his furious spouse out the door. Carla and Ron broke out laughing as soon as the door closed behind the unhappy couple. She walked back to the bar, and seeing Tim looking downcast, said, "I'm sorry we got you in trouble with Cindy. If it would help, I'd be happy to call her and explain that you didn't do anything wrong, that all of this was my idea."

"You would?" Tim asked.

"Well, maybe not happily, but I'd do it." she replied.

"You know, you're alright, Carla," Tim said, "Ron, give this lady whatever she'd like."

"I guess I could stand a shot of Tequila, and one last beer," she replied.

"Sorry Keith didn't pause long enough when he left here to leave you the clothes he had hanging around his neck," Tim said sheepishly.

"Yeah, as pissed off as Rhonda was, I don't think I'll ever see those leggings again, or the shirt either."

"They don't cover much of you up, but I expect you'll be wanting these back," Tim said, setting her sandals and thong in front of her on the bar.

"Thanks, I will, but not yet," Carla replied, pushing the sandals back to Tim and stuffing the thong in one of them, "the post-game show has at least 45 minutes to go yet, so the're still yours for a little while longer," Carla replied.

"Jesus," said Tim, "Are you really gonna sit here at the bar bare-assed for another 45 minutes?"

"Well, silly, I'm not about to walk back to my apartment barefoot!" she replied, smiling, then knocked back her shot and began slowly sipping her Lone Star.