She was interrupted from the heady illusion by the soft shuffle of a footstep against the carpet. She stopped, straightened and opened her eyes. The men surrounded her; had stood silently, watching, as she rotated her hips to the dying sounds of the music. They stood with mouths opened, eyes widened with lust, some with sadness.
It dawned on her that she still held the hem of her dress and when she looked down at herself, was surprised at how high. It clung to her thighs just below the crotch of her pantyhose and she quickly pulled it down to her knees and smoothed the material about her hips.
“Sorry,” she apologized. It was a stupid thing to say, but they had flustered her; the eyes.
Someone snorted and that set off a ragged chortle from the rest. “f**k, Angie… anytime you want to do a
