I blushed at the loud approval I received from everyone as we all gathered to head back into the living room. There were no stripper costumes on the costume rack, so Greta ushered me to her bedroom where she had something more ‘appropriate’ for the scene I was about to reenact.
“I don’t have any stripper outfits but I do like to buy some sexy clothes every now and then to keep things exciting,” she said as she showed off her bra and panty collection in her walk-in closet. She had a pretty nice collection of boots, stockings, bra, panties. But in a designated corner to the side I could also see her collection of sex toys, belts, straps, handcuffs, and other pleasure accessories.
“Looks like you keep things very exciting,” I said.
“When you’ve been married as long as I have, trust me, you have to find every way possible to keep things interesting.”
“Seems like Lewis really wanted us to see your video,” I said, deciding to voice my observation.
“You picked up on that huh?” she chuckled, shaking her head. “He loves that performance, loves that I got naked and climaxed for an audience. And he’s always wanted me to share it with our friends. I guess tonight seemed like the perfect night to finally show everyone- seeing how it played out and all.”
She was obviously referring to me and the joke I had made to shift the attention to her when I was feeling vulnerable. I felt responsible now. “About that. I’m sorry for bringing up your stage orgasm. I kinda started a riot in there.”
“Don’t be silly,” she waved away the apology. “If I wasn’t okay with showing the tape, I wouldn’t have shown the tape. We all look for the perfect opportunity to indulge in things that excite us. You being you tonight helped Lewis get the opportunity to show me off.”
“Now Darren wants to show me off,” I said to myself more than her.
She nodded knowingly, acknowledging our kinship silently. She glanced back at her underwear before bringing her eyes to the top I was wearing, specifically that I was still holding it down with my hands. “So do you really want to do this?”
I allowed myself to relish the deep mix of emotions that were flowing through me, since those feelings spoke to my desires. And with those feelings fueling my actions, I lifted my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor.
I was now, for the first time, completely naked inside her home.
She eyed me for several moments. It felt really good being devoured by her eyes, but scary too.
“That doesn’t exactly answer my question but I understand,” she said, before moving a strand of my blonde hair from over my eyes. “You’re flushed. You’re covered in goosebumps. And your nipples…”
I looked down at my breast only to find her fingers there, slowly, carefully, gently touching my areola. I gasped when she pinched my nipple but felt even more breath leave my body when I locked eyes with her.
“You’re really excited aren’t you, Jennifer Lawrence,” she said softly.
“Maybe I’m an exhibitonist.”
“Maybe.” Her statement sat in the air for a beat before she removed her hand from my breast and turned away from my naked body. “So what color was the bra and thong Elizabeth wore for the scene?”
“She didn’t wear a bra in the scene,” I said. “Just a black thong.”
She nodded. “Well I haven’t worn these at all.” She grabbed for a G-String from a hanger, the tension I felt earlier gone from her voice. The underwear still had the tag on them. “You should be able to fit these.”
“Probably,” I said, looking at her body. We had a very similar shape and height. My waist was a little thinner, but based on that video, her breast were a little fuller than mine. And after childbirth, they were likely even bigger now. Big enough where I couldn’t possibly get the whole plump boob in my mouth.
Whoa, that was a weird thought.
But weird thoughts felt tame compared to weird actions – like checking out this 50-something-year-old woman while I stood in her closet, naked, horny, and confused by how energized I felt when she touched me.
“I know you said she didn’t have on a bra but didn’t she have on some sort of top?”
“A black chemise,” I said.
She nodded again, searched through her things until she found one, though it was red instead of black. “Will this work?”
I took the lacy chemise in my hand. “It won’t stay on long anyway.”
She held in a smirk. “Six inch stilettos okay?”
“You got a size smaller?” I smirked. “I haven’t done this routine in like ten years so I don’t want to bust my ass out there. I’m clumsy and have ginormous feet.”
“Don’t feel bad, I have big feet too,” she said as we shared a laugh.
She found a pair of black pumps that I could fit before I slipped on the G-String. I’d worn sexy lingerie before, some of my leaked photos were of my selections, but I’d never worn panties with such a thin string in the back. It felt really strange having butt floss up my crack but when I checked out my reflection in her body length mirror, the discomfort was replaced by pure sexual energy.
My ass looked delicious, just a tiny black string tucked between the cheeks, leaving nothing else to the imagination back there. I couldn’t believe I was about to flaunt my rear end like this to everyone that was downstairs – Darren, and Miguel, and Cy, and owen, and Lewis, and….Ari.
“You have a beautiful bottom,” she complimented me as I looked at myself.
“Thanks,” I said shyly, like the girl from Kentucky I used to be, instead of the stripper I was set to become.
When I was fully ‘dressed’, wearing the lacy red chemise over my underwear, standing in the pumps, she assessed me for awhile before telling me to follow her.
“If you’re going to do this, you should go all out,” she said as she sat me down at her makeup table.
She did my makeup for me – matching my lips to the chemise, adding sexy shadows to my eyes, embellishing my lashes, and powdering and brushing my face with natural accents.
She finished by placing a silver necklace around my neck and spraying me with her ‘sexiest’ perfume.
“Thanks,” I told her while I took in my reflection.
“This was nothing. You’re hot.”
I turned to look at her. “No, not just this. Everything. Ever since I walked through the door, you’ve been so nice to me. You’re a great host. Tonight would have really sucked if you weren’t so awesome.”
“Tonight would have sucked if you didn’t show up,” she smiled. “No, but seriously. Darren always talked about how fun and great you were. He’s had some rough patches in his life, before you came along. I’m just happy he found someone as great as you to be in his life.”
“Was that thing you said about me being his muse true?” I asked, feeling a bit silly even wanting to know, since we were broken up and all. But the way she was talking, it didn’t seem to matter that me and Darren had officially called it quits.
Then again, I did show up here with him half naked. Maybe that spoke louder than our words.
“It’s absolutely true. You got his mind going again. And after meeting you tonight, I can see why.”
We shared a friendly smile with each other before she said she was going to give me a moment to gather myself, pee, change my mind, or get into character.
But before she left the room she gave me one final word to consider. “If you are an exhibitionist Jennifer Lawrence, then you are about to cap off your night with a BANG. I envy the thrill that you’re about to experience. Savor the moment, my friend.”
With that she left me alone in her room.
I seriously considered throwing myself on her bed so I could quickly get myself off. I was that aroused. But while that did hold some perverted appeal to me – the idea of masturbating on someone else’s bed – it also repulsed me. Not because of the taboo nature, but because I felt like relieving myself now would diminish, if not outright destroy the thrill.
Greta had just told me to savor what was coming, not rob myself of it.
Furthermore, an orgasm right here, right now, would probably sober me up enough to start coming up with reasons – rational reasons – why I should put back on my clothes and not expose myself to strangers.
My arousal was what was keeping me from thinking rationally and changing my mind.
But I didn’t want to be rational right now. And I didn’t want to change my mind.
No, I had more than a dozen people downstairs anxiously waiting for me. I didn’t want to let them down. But even more important than that, I had a lifelong fantasy to experience.
“Thanks for the wisdom, Greta,” I said to myself as I gave my eyes one last look at Jennifer Lawrence’s reflection.
I waved her goodbye and went through my mental routine to transform myself into Nomi.
I left Greta’s bedroom feeling confident, desireable, and sexy. The loud and steady noise of the pumps smacking her floors only added to the feeling that I was a boss bitch, totally in control of the sexual energy in the atmosphere.
Though I moved down the steps slowly, carefully, I was still very confident in myself – the defiant kind of confidence that made Nomi so sexy to me.
It wasn’t until I got to the foyer and saw my socks hanging on the coat rack that the reality of the situation started invading my thoughts.
I felt the string up my ass, and the wedgy feeling made me want to stop what I was doing to pull it out.
I felt my boobs bouncing freely in the loose fitting top as I clicked and clacked across the floors. And speaking of that, the shoes were a tad too small.
But what bothered me most was the wetness between my legs. Fresh wetness.
I’d been aroused basically the entire day. Sitting with my ex watching movies gave me a pleasant but low buzz of sexual excitement, that only escalated the longer I was around him, and the more I missed being able to make love to him.
But then things really got going whenever he convinced me to abandon all reason and take a ride with him in my underwear. That started the overt signs of sexual arousal, which I stirred even more by musing over my exhibitionist fantasies with him.
And then that led me to this house, where I got to actually act out my exhibitonist fantasies. My body responded to all of this stimulation with the only way it knew how – swelling my clit, lubricating my pussy lips, hardening my nipples, and basically screaming at me “Okay Jennifer, time for that orgasm now.”
But I’d rejected the call time and time again, for hours now.
In that moment, my body and mind felt like separate entities. It was as if my body had seceded from the union of mind, body, spirit, after not having its needs met. It wanted a release, but the controlling power known as my mind wouldn’t let it have one.
A silly thought perhaps, yet I couldn’t shake how real it felt. There was a civil war taking place inside my mind and body. A fight for control. And I wasn’t sure which part of me was going to win.
I noticed music playing from the living room, but not jazz or the kind of music I would have expected them to play. But club music, not anything in particular that I noticed, probably just a “club mix” playlist from Spotify or Apple Music.
It was fitting that they would transform the environment for this performance. But even I was surprised when I saw that the lights were dimmed – not to darkness, faces were still clearly visible – just dark enough to give off a sexy vibe that fit the music being played through the speakers.
Being able to see everyone’s face clearly while they whistled and clapped for my appearance was what made me lose a breath. Darren was cheering along with the others but Ari was noticeably quiet, looking at me intensely, but keeping his reaction subdued and mysterious. That turned me on even more.
While I was upstairs getting into character, the guests downstairs had rearranged the sofas and chairs to one side of the room, leaving a single loveseat at the other end. This allowed everyone the chance to see this lapdance from the same angle.
Even thinking the word ‘lapdance’ gave me shivers. I couldn’t believe I was actually moments away from giving a very public lapdance in front of all of these people – naked!
If I had a clear head I might have ran away. But I didn’t. I was tipsy. I was horny. And I was swimming in fantasy land, pretending that naked lap dances in front of an audience was just another day on the job. The club atmosphere that they created helped with that too. It was probably Darren’s idea. Sneaky bastard.
Oddly, this nervous feeling felt very familiar. Wearing a costume, a mask of makeup, getting ready to perform in front of a crowd of people. That was everyday on a film set, something I’d been doing for the last ten years of my life.
I thought back to my first ever acting gig and the horrible anxiety I felt as I stepped onto a real live set for the first time. It wasn’t a Hollywood film or a major Network TV show, both of those would come years later. No, my first time having to act on a real set was for a Burger King commercial.
I didn’t have a single speaking line either. My only task was to look pretty, smile, and laugh when they told me to laugh. Yet that kept me up all night and had me sweating my makeup off that first time I stepped in front of the camera.
It was nerve racking, being at the center of attention, having every breath you took scrutinized by impatient people that didn’t have time to waste on you not being ready to jump when they said jump.
Auditions were even worse since there were literally an endless amount of girls to compete with, no time at all to get over your nerves, and the audience (producers and casting directors) were more likely to curse you out than give you a round of applause.
I lost out on hundreds of roles during the audition grind while I lived in Los Angeles trying to find gigs – any gig. And I felt that a lot of the time it was because I let my nerves get the best of me in the 30 seconds I was given to impress a director with an impromptu performance.
The long drought of having no real work eventually took a toll on my parents. The only bills I could afford with my waitressing job was cell phone and groceries, but they were blowing through savings (that would have been my college fund had I, you know, been smart enough for college) to pay my rent and everything else that a young woman needed to live in an expensive ass city like L.A.
They called me one day to let me know if something didn’t come through soon, within the month, they were going to have to cut off the money faucet that I depended on to chase my Hollywood dreams.
The dilemma was clear – either I nailed down a steady gig or I went back home to Kentucky with my head tucked between my legs.
Funny how those business cards I received from sleazy porno directors around town suddenly had more value than being used as crumbled paper basketballs for me to shoot free throws with into the trash can.
But fortunately, Hollywood-reject-turned-porn-star never became my reality. My agent managed to book an audition for a TBS sitcom that was set to shoot a pilot soon. And I set it up in my head that this was my last opportunity. Do or die, bitch.
I taught myself to breathe, and learned how to master my emotions, conquer my nerves, slip into character on a dime, and perform for an audience doing whatever they wanted me to do better than they asked me to do it.
I ended up nailing that role, and filming 31 episodes before I caught my big break to star in Lori Petty’s directorial debut.
The quick flash back to my earliest days performing for a crowd made me smile. The girl that did that Burger King commercial could have never seen herself in the moment I currently found myself in, with a G-string up my ass, and a public striptease about to commence.
With the scene set and all eyes on me, all that was left was for someone to yell ‘action.’ But if there was a director, they weren’t around to tell me when to go. I had to direct myself. And unlike a film set, there would be no retakes, no do overs, no opportunities to make up for a bad day. This was live, the first and only impression I got to make as a bad ass stripper.
I pointed to my prey, the lucky man that I wanted to experience my seduction. To anyone halfway paying attention, it would have looked like I was pointing at Darren. But I wasn’t. The direction of my finger landed on the man next to him, his best friend Ari.
The look on Ari’s face alone made this worth it. His eyes popped and his mouth dropped. Darren’s reaction was nearly as priceless. This was my payback, fucker.
I told Ari ‘come hither’ with my body language and watched as he laughed to himself, unsure if what it was some joke. But this stripper wasn’t playing any games. So I walked over to him, grabbed him by his sweater and dragged his ass to the other end of the room. I pointed to the chair and he planted his ass down.
He still looked confused, as if he thought I was going to say ‘just kidding’ and invite Darren over for the striptease he suggested that I do.
He looked at Darren, his best friend, but I grabbed him by the face and forced him to look at me, his best friends ex girlfriend.
“You can’t touch me but I can touch you,” I told him, quoting Nomi from Showgirls as I ran my finger seductively across his chest. He looked afraid of me. And that only made me want to do this more.
He was the main one talking about how Elizabeth’s performance was unsexy, and how over the top and unrealistic the lapdance was. The guy in the movie had came in his pants from Nomi. I was going to do my damndest to make sure Ari stuck to the same script.
I had prepared myself to dance to whatever random song they chose for me but after seeing how far they went to set the atmosphere of a club for my performance, I should have known they were going to shoot for authenticity.
Whoever controlled the music switched to a familiar beat that immediately made me bite my lip to hide a smile. It was the song ‘Wasted Time,’ the same song that had played for Elizabeth Berkley in the movie when she gave the lap dance to the guy while his girlfriend watched from across the room.
There was more poetry to this than I originally thought.
I took a deep breath and focused on Ari, trying to ignore the heat I felt at my back from all 15 people watching my G-String covered ass.
Here we go.
“She’s gotta work it for the pleasure of the people,” sang the husky male voice of the record.
And with that I began to move, slowly, sexually, caressing my breast, touching my thighs, teasing Ari by lifting my chemise just enough to show my belly. I was channeling my best recollection of Elizabeth as Nomi, mimicking her confidence and moves.
I wasn’t a very good dancer. In fact, I often joked that I was a typical white girl with two left feet. But I had taken dance lessons for my Oscar winning role and gotten over the insecurities I had with looking like a fool when I moved my body to a beat.
But this wasn’t just dancing. This was stripping. So those insecurities, once beaten out of me, managed to sneak in as soon as I noticed Ari reposition himself in the chair and stare up at me as if he had finally convinced himself that this was happening, and he was allowed to enjoy it.
It was crazy how fast the sexual dominance I thought I possessed could vanish.
The constant back and forth of feeling empowered and feeling vulnerable was jarring, but also, inexplicably, part of the reason why I found this so alluring. I never could predict what I was going to feel next. And being that much out of control was a high I found nowhere else.
I wanted to lock eyes with Ari as I reached for the bottom of my top but when I truly accepted what I was about to do, my eyes drifted away from his face and landed on his shoulder. I moved the strap off my arm, leaving my shoulder naked, and looked towards his face out of my periphery.
When I saw that he was looking past me instead of at me, I felt disappointed, yet inspired. If I was going to strip for him, he was going to give me his attention. Even if he felt guilty for looking at me, that excuse wasn’t good enough.
Emboldened by his own embarrassment, I took the big step and fully brought my arm out of the strap and freed one of my breast from containment. It felt wild and exciting. But he still wasn’t looking so it also felt anticlimactic. So I quickly moved the other strap down my shoulder and let the chemise fall down until it sat at my waist.
Covered all night, my tits were now fully exposed. And even Ari couldn’t deny the power of that fact. His eyes drifted to my chest and settled on my creamy white breasts with dark pink nipples.
It felt as if my exposed boobies alone could have served as the main attraction, the main event, the feature presentation, the main course. But this was just to wet his appetite. There was so much more for him to see.
While still on a sexual and emotional high, I wasted no time continuing with the act, moving the chemise off my hips and down my ass.
God, my ass. It was being seen by everyone now.
And even though I had already flashed my bare ass to everyone earlier, I still felt more exposed with that tiny G-String on. This was far more sexual than what I’d done earlier.
But I couldn’t stop to dwell on it. I was in the middle of a performance, and if I had a goal of making sure everyone saw how sexy this routine was, I needed to stay in character.
I had to be seductive with every breath I took, confident with every move I made. I couldn’t let them see any of my reluctance or sense any of my fears. I had to emote the face of a woman that had it all under control and demand their attention, or else I risked being unsexy. And I couldn’t have that.
I let the chemise slide down my body and hit the floor before seductively, but carefully, stepping out of the garment and kicking it away.
Then I turned on a dime to face the larger audience. With one smooth stroke, Ari had access to my G-String covered butt while I revealed my breast to everyone else. I heard a few whistles and several encouraging comments, but I didn’t pay attention to whom they came from.
I wasn’t looking at anyone in particular as I stood before them topless, I was just taking in my audience as a whole. A group of men and women were watching me strip, and I was watching them watch me. That was an entirely new and terrifying feeling that I wanted to embrace but had to ignore to keep the act going strong.
“She’s gotta work it for the pleasure of the people,” the song continued, as did I.
I leaned forward, bending at the waist, legs shoulder length apart, as memory dictated, until I was looking at Ari upside down through my open legs. And even from this position, he still couldn’t look me in the eye.
I wasn’t sure if this was sweet or annoying, a little bit of both I suppose, but in either event it gave me the necessary push I needed to smack my ass cheek to try and snap him to attention. I ran my hands over my ass, and allowed a finger to slowly glide over my asscrack, all while searching for his elusive eyes.
Having him avoid my eye contact while I teased him with my booty bent for him was just more fuel for my act as I sought his male gaze.
I forced myself not to cringe when I decided to push myself even further and spread my ass cheek wide with a hand. Even badass Nomi didn’t do that.
The G-String offered a tiny shield from my pussy and asshole, but I was still sure the image was something amazing to behold for the second I held myself open like that. It was a blink and you missed it moment to be sure, but I still felt so naughty for going off script to entice his eyes with a dirty and intimate view of my body.
I moved to the floor to begin the next phase of my strip tease, winding up on my ass, spread eagle with my legs pointed to the sky. I closed my eyes to gather my bearings before moving to my knees and crawling in-between Ari’s legs, spreading them wide so that I could fit my entire body in the space.
It was time to get nasty now. I placed my hands on his knees and let my hair dangle in his lap . Curiosity got the best of me so I also ‘accidentally’ slid the side of my hand across his crotch to check for a hardon, and my God, was I delighted to find out this was doing something for him. Dicks don’t just stand at attention like that for no reason, right?
“She’ll only get lost in your mind,” the song continued, as did I.
I moved my body up his body until we were face to face and he could no longer avoid me. He tried looking down but the pull of my eyes must have been too much because he quickly brought his to meet my gaze.
“Still not sexy enough for you?” I whispered so that just he could hear me before I threw my leg over his and straddled one of his legs.
He responded with a nervous laugh. I loved the effect I was having on him. It really turned me on.
I remembered when I had performed this routine for my boyfriend many years ago. I’d spent ages practicing it on my pillow, just so that it would be perfect when I finally got the guts to do it for a guy. It was fun when I finally did it, but it was very rehearsed and wooden, and I kept giggling the entire time.
While my boyfriend seemed to love it, except for the blue balls I left him with after it was over, it wasn’t a very sexy experience for me. I was clothed, for one, but beyond that, there was very little tension or heat between us. He was just a guy I liked enough to go to the movies with but didn’t want to fuck.
Ari was someone, in a different world, I would have been down to fuck. And that seemed to made almost as much difference in this striptease as the fact that I was topless.
He would have never fucked me. That was clear. I was his best friends ex. I was the girl he didn’t want to hire. The girl that lost him money. The girl that wasn’t smart or sophisticated enough for his liking, going by the women he dated. I still wasn’t even positive the man respected me as an actress.
But those facts didn’t pour ice water on the fire. Strangely, knowing what I knew about him only seemed to intensify everything I felt. Sometimes it’s the ones that are unavailable to you, the ones that don’t want you that gets you hot.
And right now, sitting on his hard cock, I felt like I was burning in hell.
I rocked back and forth on his leg, sensually, making sure not to hurt him, keeping my heels on the floor to balance myself and keep all of my weight from smothering him.
I peaked over my shoulder to look at my larger audience, and both the men and women looked absolutely mesmerized. They liked it and I liked that they liked it, watching me all topless with a string tucked between my hot piece of ass.
At least that was how I imagined they thought of my body, but it was impossible to tell for sure what everybody thought, especially when I allowed myself to find Darren in the crowd.
I couldn’t quite place the look on his face, but it was intense. Wasn’t this what he wanted? Was he mad at me? Disgusted by what he was watching? Excited for me? Aroused by his admitted voyeuristic desire to show me off? Some combination of it all?
Whatever that intense look meant, it didn’t discourage me. I was too far gone, lost in my own exploration of my fantasies and desires to feel remorse over what someone else thought of me. At least in the moment. Maybe I would regret the hell out of this when it was over. But for now? All that mattered to me was keeping my poise and making sure everyone agreed that my performance was sexy.
“Sex kitty dances to the heartbeat of a dreamer,” the song continued, as did I.
I steeled myself for what was next. Stay in character Jennifer. Work it, girl. You’ve always wanted to do this. So relish it.
I took a deep breath, tried to appreciate the nervous excitement I felt, while making sure I didn’t kill the persona I’d work myself into.
I slid off Ari’s lap so I could gracefully place my leg on his shoulder, specifically the bottom of my pump, while I swayed my ass for him, teasing, no, threatening to peel my underwear off. This move was tricky, took a great deal of balance and flexibility, especially in heels, but I managed to pull it off, no mess ups, or retries needed. I was in a rare form.
I tugged at the side of the G-String until it revealed a portion of my pubic region then quickly snatched it back up. While attempting the same move again, I looked back at the sofas and began to thrust my body sensually, teasing further exposure, savoring every moment that I held their gaze.
The power trip of stripping before a large group was really getting to me, making me feel so many sexual feelings that all coalesced into the single minded desire to show them more, and more, and more.
And then there was Ari, sitting at attention slightly behind me, watching the side of my nearly naked ass move suggestively for him. I gave him my attention again, bringing my leg down to the floor and spinning back into position to give him a full view of his stripper. This was his day after all, the others were just there for decoration.
With the seductive piano loop alerting me to my next move, I again bent at the waist to mimic the exact move Elizabeth Berkley did to fully reveal her naked body.
But was I mimicking anyone now? Was I simply portraying Nomi? Channeling Elizabeth? Or was this all me?
With no answer, and no hesitation to come up with one, I pulled the G-String down my waist, off my ass, and down my long legs. One full motion, all while staring at Ari.
I stepped out of the underwear as a very naked woman in front of a very wide-eyed man. It struck me like lightening, the true realization that I did it. This wasn’t fantasy anymore. It was reality. I was standing naked, absolutely naked in front of nearly 20 people, most of them strangers.
But the man this lapdance belonged to wasn’t a stranger; and now, he wasn’t a stranger to my naked body. And he prolonged this introduction, keeping his eyes glued to my freshly revealed body as if blinking or turning away meant immediate death.
I noticed more whistles and cheers from behind me as I gave Ari a sexy smirk before facing the larger group, where all that comotion was coming from. Looking at them always in turn meant giving Ari a view of my ass, which would give me a rush of excitement every time. But with me fully naked now, the excitement felt overwhelming.
I took a few steps away from Ari towards the group on the sofas, and only then did I notice there was a mirror behind where everyone was sitting. I could see my reflection – Jennifer Lawrence standing naked in heels, and behind her was Ari, rubbing his beard and adjusting his crotch.
In that moment, all I felt was euphoria, intense feelings of all kinds, all hitting me at once. It was very sexual for sure, but it wasn’t pure arousal at that point. I felt relieved, and liberated, and powerful, and almost tearful.
Some of the feelings felt like they were racing through my body at the speed of light – pushed along by adrenaline and the rush of blood from my pounding heart – and were too fast moving and vague for my mind to grasp or comprehend them. But even if I couldn’t describe what I was feeling, what mattered is that it felt really good.
If there was any negative feeling at all in that moment, it was how regretful I felt for waiting so long in life before I acted on my deeply held, long hidden fantasies.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on mistakes or let my feelings overwhelm me right here on the dance floor. I still had a performance to finish.
With positive reception from my audience and good vibes flowing through me, I pushed my act even further and grabbed my breast so I could lick my nipple. I watched myself in the mirror as I hungrily indulged my own flesh, almost in disbelief at what I was seeing, almost like I was watching myself on a movie screen. And I’d never seen myself look this sultry before.
Though Elizabeth Berkley had also licked her nipple during her striptease, this was no reenactment for me. I might have known the routine like the back of my hand from watching the scene so many times, but deciding to lick my nipple didn’t feel like an act on rails. It felt spontaneous. Genuine. Real.
I spun away from the crowd, eager to get back to the lapdance, planting my ass on Ari’s crotch. His hardon against my crotch nearly made me break character.
I felt as if my body was now at the absolute peak of arousal, with no more levels to climb before tossing me over the edge. That thought frightened me, because I knew I couldn’t stop, while also being completely aware of what would happen if I didn’t stop.
There should have been a debate, but the war inside of me was over. My mind, body, and spirit were reunited, on one accord now, and all every part of me wanted was to experience the fullness of this moment, regardless of the lasting consequences.
So I pressed my bum deeply into Ari’s lap, reverse cowgirling him to the hypnotic beat. I looked at everyone watching me and felt shame for the first time since since starting the dance, shame at how obviously sexual this was becoming for me, but still I didn’t stop. I only danced harder.
I writhed against his lap, moving in furious circles, gyrating against his erection, staring at a group of people that had been strangers just a few hours ago. And now they were watching Jennifer Lawrence grind the fuck out of the producer of her latest film.
A tiny moan escaped out of my mouth, which terrified me, but still I didn’t stop. I let my hands rest on my knees so I could spread my legs wider to give them a clearer sight of my bush.
I noticed Cy touching his pants as he stared at my pussy. He was sitting there next to his wife, deeply aroused by what I was doing. But when I looked at her face, she didn’t look upset or jealous, she was aroused as well.
I imagined them leaving here and fucking like animals when they got home. Or maybe they wouldn’t even make it home, they’d have to pull over in a secluded parking lot and jump each other’s bones. All inspired by my naked body.
I found myself biting my lip and locking eyes with them, my dirty thoughts making my dancing even more lively.
I was under a spell, on caught in a trance, ignited by pure delirium, exhilarated beyond control. All I wanted was more, more, more.
I spun off his lap whenever the music became more exciting, with blaring horns and louder drums. Carried by lust and sound, I stuck my pussy just inches away from Ari’s face, letting my heel rest directly on his neck. He looked up at me, rather than straight ahead at my slit.
With my pussy in his face, I swayed my hips back and forth, long enough, seductively enough until he just had to take a look at what was between my legs. And when he did, he exhaled pathetically, as if he had been holding his breath the entire time, and his eyes did a little dance before he turned away.
I sat on him then, bringing my full weight down on his lap, making sure my pussy made contact with his cock. And then I began to ride him. Furiously. It was as close to fucking him as I would ever get. Even he started to get carried away.
He tried to hold my waist, squeeze my ass, but I slapped away his hands.
He couldn’t touch me. But I could touch him. I took a final peak over my shoulder as the music roared, wild and primal and off kilter, just like I felt as I simulated sex with my industry colleague.
I felt too hot and lightheaded to recognize them individually, especially since I had forgotten the names and faces in the moment, so they just became a big blur of faces watching me. The only one I recognized with any clarity was Darren. And the wowed look on his face spoke volumes.
I couldn’t see the mirror from this position, and it made me wish I could have had an out of body experience, and watch me from the sofa, taking in what I truly looked like doing this. But I could only imagine how this must have looked from their view.
J-Law. America’s Darling. Naked. Riding some guy. Clearly flustered. At the point of orgasm. Would she? Could she?
I held my hair up with a hand and held Ari’s cheek with the other. We locked eyes. And although I was being devoured by dozens of eyes in that moment, it was the two pupils directly connected to my soul that made me break.
Oh my God. I’m about to…
I threw my head back, shut my eyes, trying not to completely shatter but I lost that fight and lost myself in what was perhaps the single most powerful orgasm of my life. Right there, in front of my ex boyfriend, college professors, writing, musicians, and filmmakers. I surrendered myself to pleasure in front of them all.
I didn’t stop shaking for what felt like minutes. And I was only brought back down to earth by the huge round of applause I heard from everyone.
The post-orgasm clarity was downright hostile, as I never felt so much immediate embarrassment in my life. My goal had been to be so sexy, so enticing, so irresistible, that my performance would be powerful enough to make Ari cum in his pants. But I’d failed to do that. Failure had never made me feel so conflicted and exhausted and satisfied.
Everyone around me was so excited, so wowed by what they’d just witnessed, that they wouldn’t let me wallow in my shame.
“You guys still think the performance wasn’t sexy?” Cy asked.
“Ari doesn’t,” Crystal teased as people laughed.
I found a seat on the sofa next to Darren, breathing heavily, coming to terms with what I did. I saw Ari giving owen a hi-five and I thought I might just die.
“You were absolutely amazing,” Darren smiled as he rubbed my bare shoulder, clearly attempting to let me know that everything was fine.
“I feel like I just witnessed a once a lifetime performance,” Norma said.
“Can I get an encore?” owen asked.
The group around me roared with laughter, as Jane pushed owen in the head before going to give me a hi-five.
“I’ve been to a lot of strip clubs,” Crystal said. “But Jennifer that was truly the hottest striptease I’ve ever seen.”
“Especially that little moment at the end,” Sarah winked.
“What can I say,” I said, still buzzing with excitement. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had an orgasm in front of an audience.”
“Damn right,” Norma said before reaching to give me five. It felt simultaneously silly and rewarding. And all I could do in response is laugh.
I felt totally comforted with the knowledge that they were laughing with me, not at me in the moment.
“What made you choose Ari?” Landon asked me.
I looked at Darren, then Ari, who was crashed against the loveseat, a hand over the erection that had driven me to a very public orgasm. I looked him in the eyes and shrugged. “I guess that was my way of saying ‘sorry’ for losing money on our movie.”
He sat up then, seemingly taken back. “You never needed to say sorry. You and Darren made a great movie together. There is nothing I would have changed about it.”
“Really?” I asked, still naked, still vulnerable.
“Really,” he said in a voice that felt genuine. Then he chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. “But even if I was ever upset. All has been forgiven after tonight.”
“It better be, motherfucker,” I said before we shared more laughs.
I saw the red chemise over on the floor in the corner where I kicked it. I thought about going for it to cover up, but it would have involved getting up and walking naked across the room for everybody to see.
The fact that this seemed embarrassing after I just performed a striptease for them seemed stupid. But I was quickly learning that naked feelings were not always logical. And maybe that was why I liked them so much.
So even if it didn’t make much sense, I decided against exposing myself by standing up to walk across the room, and instead just stayed seated. Still completely naked, save for the pumps on my feet.
“I don’t know if you’re comfortable enough to share it, but I am curious – what exactly is the nude public performance you are considering?” Jane, the president of a community theater asked.
I was surprised at what I felt at that moment. It wasn’t paranoia or fear. I wasn’t questioning her motives or worrying that whatever I said would be leaked to a gossip blog or news organization. I felt like an open book, willing to share pieces of myself that I normally guarded behind jokes, locks, and keys.
“I’m thinking about wearing my birthday suit to the Oscars red carpet next week,” I admitted to a group of people I maybe wouldn’t have trusted had I been fully dressed. But naked feelings were different. And I did trust them. “Just showing up completely naked. Taking pictures, walking the red carpet like everything is normal.”
“Damn,” Jane said. “That would be something. Any particular reason why?”
And for the next ten minutes, I once again became the center of attention. But this time I wasn’t performing a striptease, I was explaining to them what factors could possibly ever lead to me showing up before them to perform a strip tease in the first place.
I told them about my icloud leak, and all of my naked pictures that had flooded the internet without my consent.
I told them about the controversy regarding the dress I had chosen to wear for a photoshoot with my male co-stars.
I told them about Rose McGowan, the statement she made against Harvey with her bead dress, and the history of red carpet nearly-nude dresses.
I told them about my red carpet politics, the actual industry of fashion houses, red carpet dresses, and Hollywood actresses, and how stifling and trite it all had become.
And I told them that about my desire to spark a conversation about censorship, obscenity, female bodies, social taboos, and harassment.
“I should be able to go to a red carpet completely naked and not have to worry about being harassed,” I said.
But I closed with what the sentiment that felt the most honest and truthful to me. “And honestly, my naked body is hotter than any dress they could ever put on me. So I want to be sexy.”
“I say you should go for it, girl,” Jane smiled.
“Absolutely,” Greta agreed.
While everyone was in agreement that it was a bold statement to make, not everyone was sure it would truly create the statement I wanted. More than a few of the women, like Norma, Simone, and Sarah were afraid of the blowback I would receive.
“I know how people treat women who ever dare to do something bold with their bodies,” Sarah said. “I study it. And I know there would be a massive backlash. Especially because it’s you, Jennifer. You’re amazing, but there are a lot of people that won’t hesitate to misconstrue whatever message you send. And I fear the reaction to you being openly hostile. Especially in light of metoo.”
“But there are going to be people that will support her too, including supporters of metoo,” Jane argued. “I agree with you Sarah, people are going to freak out and overreact and hate her if she does this. But that happens any time someone does something new and bold. We can’t shy away from upsetting the status quo because we’re afraid of backlash. Otherwise we’ll never do anything bold again.”
The debate went on for half an hour as they talked through the idea of me making a nude in public statement at the most prestigious awards show in the world. Everyone was civil, their arguments coming from a place of respect and love, and it was everything I needed to hear at that moment.
We eventually landed at the conclusion that it would be risky, but the potential rewards, cultural and personal, were probably worth the risk.
“You totally have my support if you decide to do it,” Sarah said. “And I’ll write the greatest think piece ever on my blog to combat the trolls and spread your message.”
“Got my support too,” Simone smiled. “I think you’re brave as fuck for even considering it.”
“Just make sure you know this is what you want to do,” Norma said. “Your decision only.”
I nodded and thanked them for the advice and counterpoints to consider. “We’ll see what happens. I know I have a big decision to make.”
I ended up staying naked for the rest of the gathering, which ended up lasting nearly 2 hours longer. We moved away from the topic of my nudity, and instead moved on to bigger topics going on in the world, both domestically, and abroad.
While it was a bit weird to talk about politics while completely naked around a bunch of clothed intellectuals, it strangely felt more comfortable than the times I usually shied away from talking politics – like with colleagues on set, or with my own conservative family members back in Kentucky.
I even kicked off my pumps and sat cross legged on the sofa around the time they circled back to Greta’s stage performance, asking her how did she get her yellow dress to come apart like that.
There was still a low buzz of sexual excitement, and I never lost the ‘“Oh my god, I’m naked” awareness that came with being nude in a sea of clothed people, but I guess I simply gained a level of confidence that made sitting there naked for hours not just bearable, but enjoyable, despite the embarrassment. And a lot of it simply had to do with the people I was sharing my nudity with.
Though they had seen every part of my body, and got to see what I looked like while having an orgasm, they didn’t treat me in a way that made me regret showing myself.
Sure, they weren’t oblivious to me being naked, that would have been fake, pretending like I was fully clothed even though I wasn’t. They still made comments about my body, and cracked jokes about my state of undress, and I would catch them staring at my breast or crotch. But none of that was out of place or unwanted because it was clear from how they interacted with me that they didn’t just see tits and ass.
They saw a woman, full of talent, and opinions, and value as a person. And it felt nice being naked around people like that, and not having to worry about being harassed, or violated, or judged.
It was around around 3 in the morning whenever the tertulia came to an end. When I stood up and began giving everyone a hug, still completely naked, it hit me that this had been one of the most satisfying nights of my life.
Ari acted as if he was going to slip away without showing me any love but I stopped him. “Nope, don’t try to sneak away. You get a hug too.”
He walked back to me, sheepishly, somehow looking more embarrassed than I was, even though I was the one that was naked, and I was the one that had cum on his lap while everyone watched.
As we hugged each other, I felt a bulge, and it was as if the unreality of the situation finally fell on me. The orgasm, the hard on, the fact that I was Darren’s ex and he was Darren’s best friend.
Fuck.
And that low level arousal was suddenly full on arousal again. I let go, and brushed my hair behind my ear, avoiding eye contact as he said goodbye to his friends and hurried away.
Greta received my longest, warmest embrace, after I gave back her jewelry and I thanked her again for everything. She kissed my forehead and whispered in my ear “No regrets, okay?”
“No regrets,” I smiled back at her.
She offered my shirt and socks back to me but I told her she could keep it as she and Lewis walked us to my car. The cold pavement felt like ice on my feet, and the chill against my naked skin was almost overwhelming. But it still felt good, being completely naked outside again.
Darren helped me in the car and I waved a final goodbye to Lewis, Greta, and the others that were still talking outside. This was a night I wouldn’t soon forget.
When Darren had us back on the road going home, he looked over at me, smirking.
“What?” I smiled with my head sitting against the window. I was spent, but still consumed by the warmth of arousal.
“I’m proud of you.”
“I thought you might be mad at me.”
“For what?”
“Choosing Ari for the lapdance.”
“I figured you were pissed at me for telling them about your Showgirls obsession,” he chuckled. “I’m not mad. You proved him wrong.”
I smiled at him, caught between regret that we broke up and appreciation for still having him as a friend. But was this friendship? Or something else?
I reached across the car and waited for him to give me his hand. “Thank you, Darren.”
“For?”
“Pushing me to do this. I had so much fun tonight.”
He nodded his head. “I’m just happy you pushed yourself to do it.”
We rode in silence for awhile before I closed my eyes and let my hands rest on my breast. I took a deep breath and touched my nipples. I replayed the night in my head, starting with the moment I tossed my bra out the window, ending with giving every clothed person at the house a close hug.
As I worked through the images in my head, I subconsciously must have brought my hand down to my pubic mound, because I felt my fingers stroking my bush.
A frightening but exciting thought occurred to me. I was still naked and had no idea how I was going to make it back to my loft without being seen. But before I could figure out a solution to the dilemma I heard Darren break my train of thought.
“Let your seat back and lay back,” he spoke, calmly, firmly.
I opened my eyes, saw him staring at the empty road ahead of us, but I didn’t protest. Following his directions tonight had only been rewarding. Why stop now?
I leaned the seat back and lay back, just as he asked.
“Spread your legs,” he said. When I did that he looked at me and shook his head. “No, wider. Lift up your legs and let them rest on the door and dashboard.”
He wanted me spread eagle, so I gave him what he wanted. Being obedient felt so erotic.
“What do you want me to do now?” I asked, still rubbing my nipples.
“What do you want to do now?” he asked.
“I want to play with my pussy,” I purred, feeling energized. “I want to cum.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
I wasted no further time, taking a deep breath, finally giving in to the urge that had been with me most of the night. I normally would have worked myself up before sliding a finger inside of me but there was no need to warm up the oven first. I was already dripping with wet heat.
My breaths were heavy and sharp as I reacted to a touch that almost felt too good to be true. With vivid memories in my head, including the scent of cigars and cologne, the sweet taste of pie and bitter sweetness of red wine, and the core emotions all working together, touching my sexually aroused pussy was nearly sensory overload. A sleepy moan escaped from my mouth when I finally found my clit.
“I’m going to drop the top now,” Darren said.
Though I heard what he said, the danger alert in my mind didn’t go off. It was as if I was too physically exhausted to care about anything except touching myself. When I heard the convertible top of the car folding down, I opened my eyes.
I saw the moon, and saw New York City. And with that came the realization that if anybody happened by this car at this very moment, they would see Jennifer Lawrence, naked, spread eagle, masturbating.
And I didn’t care.
I closed my eyes, spread my legs wider, until I felt the wind blowing against my toes, and chased after my release.
With the film industry slowly but surely sucking the life out of me, I needed this moment. Speeding through the city in a fast car, on a cold night, rubbing my pussy, surrendered to the moment, moaning without reservation, living with no regrets.
I felt alive.
And without a doubt, I knew I already made up my mind.
The Oscars red carpet was next weekend. And I was showing up naked. Completely naked.