On one condition ...

“We can go in on one condition,” you tell Jess. She asks what it is with an inquisitive smile. You and she have both noticed the obvious group of onlookers that have gathered throughout the street. You stare at Jess’ lovely tits again, making her very conscious of her shirt’s transparency. Her nipples budding like hard erasers from the cold water still soaked into her cotton tee. To ease the shock of the next statement, you tell Jess once again that she is absolutely the greatest person you’ve ever met and that you love her dearly, kissing her passionately for everyone to see. “I want you to walk down the driveway and get the mail from the box.” Jess looks at you like why would that be so hard? She begins to turn to complete her assigned task when you finish your thought. “Anyone that approaches you, I want you to invite them in for a beer.” Jess freezes, mid-turn, suddenly aware of the limitless possibilities of what could ensue from such actions. We were both very friendly with all the neighbors, so it wasn’t uncommon to chat at the curbside. She scans the ten or so men gathered around the street, wondering if she could really go through with it. I can see her heart rate increase as her breathing grows shallow. She and I both know the men will flock to her just to get a better view of her tits on display.

“Of course, we could stay out here, and you could ‘volunteer’ to wash the neighbors’ cars!” I knew this would be an equally embarrassing and tough option for Jess to consider. I sense swirling images spinning around her head as she contemplates her options. “If you did that, you’d have to do everyone’s car just to be fair!”

Jess doesn’t want to be outside anymore than I really do. She looks at me with a glint of knowing as she asks, “What are you going to have me do inside?”

“Oh I don’t know,” I honestly reply. “It all depends if we have any company.” Meanwhile, ideas are popping into my head at a mile a minute. “Just remember, you lost the bet.”

Jess inhales a deep sigh of resignation, raising her perky tits, filling her lungs with air, and steeling herself with resolve. She walks quickly and determinedly to the mailbox, hoping to avoid contact with any neighbors. She helps her cause by staring at the driveway as she walks, avoiding eye contact with any of the men eager to get a good look at her luscious tits. Unfortunately for Jess, that didn’t deter Bob, and Pete, two of the neighbors, from deciding that they needed to check their mail. They each race to the mailbox, timing their arrival with Jess’ and immediately engage her in friendly chatter which she has to recognize. I listen intently as Jess chats momentarily with them, clearly noticing them staring at her tits. The attention only makes her tits stand out more, her puckered nipples growing under the clinging material. Jess hurriedly invites them into the house for a beer, which they eagerly accept.

“Two, … not so bad,” Jess thinks to herself as she starts walking back up the drive with the two men in tow. Just then she is greeted by Jermaine, who makes a lame excuse of borrowing a pail so he can wash his car. Jess accordingly invites him inside for a beer also, which he accepts. The trio makes their way to the front door with Jess leading the way. Bob and Pete are slightly older, in their mid-thirties, average size, average build, yet in good shape. Jermaine, on the other hand, could be a contending collegiate basketball star. He is twenty years old, towering at six-seven, and a muscular two forty. He is also … very black!

Yes indeed, the possibilities are endless! I greet the guys and invite them all into the house. We go inside and are immediately treated to the wonderful sensation of cool, crisp air, enveloping our bodies. The air conditioner is cranked up full blast. The effect is dutifully noted by everyone, staring at Jess’ tits. The damp clothing and cool air, create a series of pleasant bumps spreading over her body, making the tiny hairs stand on end

Jess asks to be excused, so that she “can change into some dry clothes.”

I scan my guests’ eyes, seeing the disappointment at losing the wonderful vision they have been entitled to. “Could you please get us our beers first? I’m gonna show them the basement.” I drag my company to follow me into the basement where I have set up a mini photo studio on one side where I practice my amateur photography, and on the other side is a rec room complete with pool table, dart board, and poker table.

The neighbors and myself make idle chat, waiting for Jess to return with the beers. When Jess finally appears, she is carrying a six-pack. She dutifully hands each of us our drinks, keeping one for herself; placing the remaining beer on a nearby table.

It is then that I inform Jess that the guys want to ...