(Straight male) A Magic Microphone

The job market since the pandemic has been a dream come true for you. You can't believe your luck as you walk into the convention center: you've actually been hired by the marketing team of the company that is putting on the local comic convention. You'd wanted to attend the comic con anyways, but now you're actually being paid to, and it's better money than you would have believed only a few years ago.

Now, you're here inside with a fully-paid VIP pass provided by the marketing team, armed with a notepad and a voice recorder. You can go anywhere, attend anything, and all your supervisor wants from you is a day full of recordings on the recorder. They've prefer interviews with attendees talking about what they like and don't like about the con, but frankly anything will be good. You've been told that your recordings will be used in editing a bunch of marketing materials for this and later cons and if you do a good job they might even pay to have you fly out to the next convention.

As you shake your head in disbelief, wondering if it's possible for this day to get any better, you spot something that you don't yet realize will make this day beyond incredible: a generic microphone is simply lying on the floor where someone seems to have left it. The crowd is stepping over and around it, so you bend down to take a closer look. At first you think you should take it to lost and found, but it's just a normal, cheap microphone. It's not even wireless, just a cheap wire dangling from the bottom, so you know nobody is going to come looking for it. Shrugging, you wonder if it will work better for you than the tiny microphone already on the voice recorder. If anything, it will make it easier for you to record interviews with people. You hold up the mic and it looks much more authoritative than you were looking before.

Time to see how it works. You look around for a guinea pig and spy a nearby cosplayer in a sexy costume of Poison Ivy. Sometimes Ivy cosplayers are nearly naked, but this one is wearing a black jacket and T-shirt with green leggings from the newest cartoon version. It makes sense, as it means she'll have to airbrush less of her skin green and it's probably more comfortable.

"Excuse me?" you ask, and she looks over at you, holding your microphone up to your face. "I'm with the convention and I'm just going around interviewing attendees about their thoughts on today's con. You have a few minutes for me, I hope?"

She nodded, so you smile and step a bit closer. You start with some basic questions about why she was cosplaying today and what her favorite parts of the con were. The conversation is flowing much more easily than you had anticipated, and you find yourself asking a question that you only realize afterwards was a bit inappropriate.

"So, most of the time I see Poison Ivy cosplayers wearing something a bit more revealing? Any reason you didn't choose that today? Would you be worried about the attention wearing something more revealing?" As soon as it leaves your mouth your face falls as you realize how rude of a question it is.

She just smiles. "I'm just not a fan of spending hours airbrushing everything that would require," she says, confirming your guess. "But, no, sometimes showing a bit of skin is just part of making good cosplay. Sex sells, right?"

You laugh, glad she didn't find it an inappropriate question.

She continues, "Maybe tomorrow I'll wear something that shows a bit more skin. I know my body looks good, and I like the attention, to be honest, even if it makes me uncomfortable sometimes."

"Well, I hope I'm not making you feel uncomfortable," you say and she laughs. Again, she puts you too much at ease and your mouth runs ahead of your brain: "I mean, I'm giving it some attention even now and you don't seem bothered by it."

You begin mentally berating yourself again, but again she just smiles and nods. "Nope, not at all!" Her smile becomes a bit flirty. "It makes me feel kinda hot."

You're a bit surprised, but flattered that she'd flirt with you. You push back a bit, feeling bolder at how you haven't flustered her with your inappropriate questions. "Awesome, you deserve to feel hot. You've got a smoking bod, I just wish I could see more of it!" You pause, then realize there's no way that you haven't gone too far with that. "I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have---"

"No, it's okay," she interrupts you. "I know I've got a great body. I should probably take off this jacket so that you can see more of it." And with that she removed the jacket and folds it over her arm. The green only goes to her wrists, but with the jacket off you can see her chest under her T-shirt much better. And she's still smiling, you realize after you catch yourself leering at her.

"Um, well, okay," you stutter, uncertain of where to go next. "Wow, you look hot."

"I am a bit hot," she says, and you realize she misunderstood you. "You know, I don't know why I was even wearing this jacket, I am hot even in this shirt." She pulls at the neck of her shirt for some relief.

Maybe she's joking now, so you banter back, "You should just take that off, too!" Stress chills your stomach as you realize you actually said this and it's been recorded for posterity.

But as you wonder if there's a way to delete recordings on your device, she just nods. "That makes sense," she said, then reaches around herself to grab the bottom of her T-shirt and lifts it off of her, pulling her head through the next. She stands in front of you, green paint on her face to the base of her neck, but her torso pale white standing in stark contrast to the dark blue bra she's wearing to support a deceptively large pair of tits.

Your jaw drops. "Hey, wait, are you sure you should be doing that? I mean, I don't mind, but you aren't worried about being seen by anyone else here without a shirt on?"

"No, I trust you," she said. You feel a bit overwhelmed by her trust in you.

"I can take a picture?" you ask, suddenly worried about being the subject of a prank show. If so, you were at least going to get something out of this as a memento.

"Of course!" she says, then starts posing as you bring out your camera to snap some shots.

"Damn, you're sexy," you say, and she grins, her posing becoming even more alluring. "I wish I could see all of you." You wonder when the camera crew is going to jump out at you to record your embarrassment.

However, she just shrugs, then reaches to the waist band of her leggings and pushes them down to her feet, pushing out her tight ass in some small blue panties as she steps out of the stretchy fabric. She stands up and reaches behind her back to fiddle with her breast. She sees the look of shock on your face and replies, "Well, how else do you expect to see all of me?" she asks, unlocking the bra and letting it drop around her arms to the ground. Her tits aren't the largest you've seen, but they're beautiful and round, her nipples puffy. She smiles, then starts pushing down her panties, shaking her ass as she reveals her mound underneath, the hair closely trimmed but red enough to let you know she hasn't dyed her hair for the costume. Again, her ass juts out, now nude, as she pushes the panties to her feet, then steps out of them. She's now fully nude in front of you apart from her socks and sneakers, with her face and hands still green.

"Holy shit," you breath as she points to your camera, then resumes posing. Nobody around you pays any mind. "I wouldn't complain if you spent the entire on like that," you mutter.

"Maybe I will," she says, considering it. "Yeah, all right."

You stop, the absurdity of her agreement hitting you. You look at the microphone, then at the nude beauty in front of you. If this was a prank show it had gone far past appropriate already, and it didn't seem likely.

"What's your name?" you ask as you realize this girl has already stripped in public in front of you and you never even asked it yet.

"April," she says, "But my friend call me 'Ape.'"

"Thanks, Julia," you reply, purposefully messing up her name with the first other name you can think of which happens to be another month name. "It's nice to meet you. And see your tits and ass." You wonder, is it possible...?

"And my pussy!" she says, laughing. "Don't forget that." She never comments on your misuse of her name.

Just to be sure, you ask, "I'm sorry, I'm terrible with names, could I bother you to ask your name again, one more time?"

"Julia, silly," she says, with a confused look on her face. "Didn't you just ask me that?"

"I'm sorry, I was thinking of something else," you quickly reply, your heart racing more than it was when she stripped down in front of you. Only one way to be sure, you ask her something outrageous: "You planned to come to the con and strip naked in front of everyone and show off your tits before you ever got here, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," she says with a chuckle. "I was hoping to get lucky and find someone who would appreciate them."

"Well, now you have," you respond, giving her an appreciative once over. "How big are they?" you ask, somehow knowing she would answer you truthfully.

"They're 34B," she said proudly. "Do you want to see my bra to make sure? Or measure them?"

You chuckle and shake your head. "No, that's okay."

A thought strikes you. What will happen if you say something that you know is actually untrue?

"It's very impressive that you have a 36DD bust and can fit them in that 34B bra," you say, wondering how she'll respond.