Now Emma's shy!

‘Oh…’ Emma crosses her arms over her breasts protectively. ‘Now I feel self-conscious, though! Were you actually being serious? About the, you know…’ she coughs delicately, ‘well, there being enough of a show to wank off to?’

You pull her arm away gently – and then laugh. ‘Uh, Em… not sure exactly how to put this, but…’

Emma looks down, and immediately blushes a deep red. At some point while you were talking, her nipples must have hardened – and any question of them being obvious through the thin, lacy material just vanished.

‘Oh, God…’ Her face is a picture. ‘I can’t wear it, then! And I liked this dress!’

‘Hey, hey, wait, hold on,’ you interrupt, because she does look fucking gorgeous. ‘Maybe we can compromise. D’you have any of those pastie things? You must do.’

Emma wrinkles her nose. ‘Sorry. Pasties sounds so… vulgar. I prefer to call them nipple stickers.’

You snort. ‘Yeah, because that’s not vulgar at all…’

Emma just sticks her tongue out, already rummaging in her bag. ‘I think I still have some, yeah… ah! Okay, here they are.’ She brings out a little packet of flesh-colored stickers. ‘Now I won’t look like the biggest tramp at the ball.’

She slips out of her dress lithely, and you don’t say anything for a moment, still amazed at how casually she strips off in front of you now; her boobs are perfect as ever, round and firm and pert in the mirror. Emma peels off a sticker, and fixes it determinedly over one nipple. She’s about to peel off another one when you catch her hand.

Emma looks up, confused. ‘What? What’s wrong?’