A skimpy lace nightie

I gulped as my brain soaked up the sight before me: The hottest chick I had ever met, dressed in a tiny, white lace nightie that barely covered her amazing chest. The narrow neckline plunged down like a dagger between her unsupported tits, the weightless lace fabric resting gently on her succulent curves. Below the shelf of those world-class breasts, the whiff of fabric became almost transparent, and it cascaded down to past a pair of frilly white thong underwear.

This probably sounds crazy, but it almost saddened me, seeing Corrine at that moment. The rest of the world suddenly seemed so much less awesome in comparison. I seriously just wanted to drown myself in her cleavage and die happy. I struggled to find my voice:

“You look so—I mean—Th-That’s—“

“Thanks. I figured this would be more memorable.”

She was right. I still remember every detail of that nightie, all these years later, but I can’t for the life of me remember why the script I wrote called for her character to be dressed in sleeping clothes, at the beach, in the middle of the day. Go figure.

Corrine slid the robe off her shoulders and handed it to me, turning to reveal her slender, nude back and a pair of sexily exposed ass cheeks sashaying beneath the veil of her nightie. A white satin bow sat perched like a bunny tail atop her beautiful butt, dancing with every movement. She headed off to her mark—

Nobody else was doing what they were supposed to. Not Dan with the camera, not Andy with the sound, not even Rachel. We were all just staring at Corrine’s unbelievable figure and the meager piece of white lace attempting to conceal it.

Rachel unintentionally let out an amorous sigh of desire, revealing more about her personal sexual preferences than she’d probably intended. As soon as the sound escaped her lips, Rachel froze, caught. The rest of us spun towards her in surprise, but she angrily dismissed our inquisitive smiles and waved us back to work. I couldn’t help but notice how Rachel’s nipples were poking through her shirt, hard as rocks.

“Okay, I’m recording!” Dan shouted from behind the camera.

“You’re supposed to say ‘rolling!’” Rachel insisted.

“Er—Rolling! Wolf-Guard, Scene twelve, take one!”

I shouted action, and Corrine dutifully took off screaming down the beach. Her huge, bouncing breasts threatened to swing free of that nightie with every step, but somehow her nipples never popped into view. I was just glad to have her bundled robe in my hands—it gave me an easy excuse to conceal my outstanding erection.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blasted in from the sea, throwing up a spray of mist and promising to rip the skimpy costume right off Corrine’s body—

But she didn’t stop running.

She stayed in character the whole time, reflexively hugging her costume against her chest, squashing the bountiful flesh of her boobs beneath her arms. Nick made his entrance as the wolf right on time, everybody hit their marks…

“And… cut!”

The shot was perfect on our first, and only, take. We finished just as the sun hit the edge of the horizon and the sky turned orange.

As Corrine walked back over to me, I could see the moisture of the sea spray clinging to her skin, the lightly damp fabric of her nightie hugging tight to her curves. She shivered, moist breasts jiggling uncontrollably.

I tried not to stare at the prominent nipples poking out towards me through the cold wet fabric of her costume.

“How did that look?” she asked.

“It looked awesome! Baywatch, eat your heart out.”

“Literally, in my case. Nick still rips out my heart and eats it at the end of the movie, right?”

She was really excited to be in this shitty movie of mine, and I couldn’t be happier.

“Thanks for everything, Corrine.”

“Oh, pssh, this is so much fun!"

She took the robe from my hands and strolled over towards the water, to watch the sunset. For the few fleeting seconds before she put her robe back on, I saw the shape of her naked body through that lace nightie, silhouetted against the backdrop of the setting sun; saw the outline of her impossibly firm breasts…

“I’ll be damned, dude,” Andy whispered to me, “I think she actually likes you.”

I dismissed his comment with a wave of my hand. “Yeah, right. A girl like that? And a guy like me? Never gonna happen. NEVER gonna happen.”