Exton

Pandora steps into the little pool and slowly unties the scarf. Ob slides his Kaftan from her shoulders, draping it over Ike's empty stool. His breath catches as  he turns back. The skirt is black, but he knows all too well what happens when gauze gets wet.

Jeb smiles at the crowd. He hefts a pitcher of water and pours it slowly over Pandora as she offers herself up as first contestant. Ob watches in fascination as the water turns the T-shirt clear and form fits the front of her skirt. From where he stands, the skirt is also sheer, the thong just barely visible.

Her nipples are taut from the cold. Ob licks his lips, watching them sway as she bends forward to hike up the skirt, baring her legs. She turns to Stoney, mouthing Voodoo, and Jeb pours the rest of the water down her back. She jumps, gasping aloud and Ob moans. Nothing like a full breasted woman in wet clothes.

Stoney starts the song and Ob stares. Pandora does slow stretches as she steps out of the pool. Her breasts are clearly visible and she rolls her torso to the slow opening chant, smiling at him. Her hips move as the drums start and there are shouts from the crowd. Ob moans watching her dance for him, until she turns to face the crowd. It is only then that he realizes from the back she looks nude under the wet fabric.

Following the beat, she swings her hips, rolling them much the way she has seen belly dancers do. She bends toward the crowd, undulating and rolling her shoulders. Her breasts ripple enticingly and Ob retreats off the stage so he can watch her dance. He snags a chair at the front table, hearing one of the shifters there making a comment on bedding the hottie. Ob growls and the kid shuts up. His buddies tell him he is looking at the Witch's mate. One leans close apologizing for the first timer. Ob just nods, watching Pandora undulate.

He was going to get her to do this for him when they were alone.

Pandora's hands rise upwards, tracing along her hips, her belly, cupping and tracing her heavy breasts. The sway of her body makes the movements look like a personal invitation. He hears voices all over the room shouting, hooting, even howling. Ob smiles. This is HIS woman. Somehow, he isn't quite sure, her hands end up in her short hair as she arcs her back. The skirt rises, exposing a touch of lace. Ob moans aloud and the guys at the table lose control, screaming out their cheers.

Her legs spread, slowly bending, as Pandora lowers herself to the stage during the bridge. The moans in the song punctuating what looks like an offer for use. Her hands dance along her thighs, lifting her skirt even higher. Glimpses of the thong are driving Ob wild. His hands are clenched on his knees, knuckles white with the effort to not scoop her up and escape to her room. From her knees, Panodora leans forward, swaying her breasts before the eyes glued to her. Her hands slide up her belly, under her shirt, clearly visible through the wet fabric. Ob is trying hard not to pant, trying hard to stay where he is. His jeans are painfully tight and he is sure he isn't alone, If Pandora's dance is anything like the rest, they are in for a very erotically charged night.

The song ends with Pandora on her knees, hands cupping her breasts, eyes glued to Ob's, a wicked smile on her lips. Ob has the sudden urge to take her right there... in front of everyone. He looks around, then back at Pandora and adjusts himself as she watches. His impromptu table mates howl up a storm.