Emily unzips her top.

She was alone up there, and the glaring light above her made it LOOK like she was alone, too. Emily knew that the other performers were waiting in the wings for her, watching with excitement to see if she fucked up. She knew that really no one was forcing her to be here. She wasn’t even one of the real performers. And yet Emily was excited. She didn’t know who they were, but she knew that there were dozens of ‘sexually liberated’ men and women in the crowd that wanted her to be liberated too. And somehow Emily wanted to be liberated.

Her hand went to the steel ring attached to her leather turtleneck-bodysuit. Emily slipped only one finger inside, drawing it down her zipper inch by agonizing inch. She wasn’t wearing panties, but it’s not like this would be the first time someone had seen her bra today. This was no big deal. Barely a day went by where some guy at school didn’t see some skin from her.

She swayed her hips to the kitschy technobeat, even shaking her booty a little. She rode the cheers of the crowd, slooooowly unzipping her top and pushing her tits together with her elbows for everyone to enjoy her cleavage. She was nearly halfway down her torso now, and they could all see her bra. Now, Emily enjoyed the occasional flash, but something about this felt... different.