Both men nudged their companion, pointing to the four girls at the same time. Exchanging a few words, they saw that they were on the same wavelength and burst out laughing. They then moved to the spot where the girls were dancing in a circle, Kevin getting between two of them, and Jean Paul doing similarly on Kevin’s right. They copied the dance steps of the girls who were hopping and twisting to the tropical beat, with an occasional emba-emba, the local feature that the islanders liked so much. Kevin was sure they were topless, covered only with bodypaint; the way their jugs jiggled so freely, up and down, left and right, as they jumped and shook, was evidence that there was no restraining garment over them. Just as he was about to engage in conversation with the girl on his left, the song entered into its chorus and the girls, following the song’s instruction, went for another emba-emba, that move that made them sway in a very sensuous move, opening their knees as they lowered their bodies closer to the floor. As the Dayinn directly facing him embarked on the down movement, Kevin was blessed with the sight of a pussy opening in front of him, confirming that at least the girl in front of him but probably all four, were not only topless but totally naked apart from some secondary accessories. He again turned to the girl on his left, the one on his right already engaged in conversation with Jean Paul, and said loud enough to be heard above the music,
“That’s a sexy costume you are wearing. The character portrayed is supposed to repel but you make her attractive.”
“Really,” the girl replied, smiling naughtily, “and what do you find so attractive about it?”
“The illusion,” he replied. “The fact that you seem dressed yet are naked.”
“You’re sure about that?” the Dayinn teased. “You’d bet on that?”
Kevin nodded.
“Why don’t you touch, to be sure?”
Saying which, she took both his hands and laid them on her hips just below her leather belt. Kevin was surprised to feel the distinctive coarseness of a jeans tissue. He looked up at her then down at her crotch. He saw a perfectly normal jeans fly with its double J-stitch pattern. He looked up at her again then at her companion a few metres away. She was now dancing normally and in conversation with a Chucky guy; the opening he had seen earlier was no longer visible. Had his lusty thoughts imagined what he thought he saw? He looked again at his partner.
“I think you owe me a forfeit,” she said, “since you’ve lost your guess.”
She was smiling, a mysterious smile that hinted at some hidden secret. Her hands were still on his at her waist. She slowly let her hands slide, carrying his with them, towards the back onto her ass, looking at him, still wearing that same mysterious smile.
Suddenly, he no longer felt the characteristic ruggedness of jeans tissue but the softness of woman flesh. That jeans short she was wearing had an opening over her ass and probably over her pussy too! Her smile now had a teasing quality like saying “Gotcha!”