More Stories to Make You Blush by Marie Gray Read Free Book Online Page A

in pain!”
    â€œNo, not at all, but you have to admit, my approach was original!”
    His innocent smile was irresistible, like the smile of a little boy caught red-handed, who knows he’s done nothing really wrong and will be forgiven. And Brigitte did not hold it against him. He was a very handsome man. Tall and muscular, without looking pumped-up, he had a superb suntan that accentuated the sweat gleaming on his skin. His hair was jet black, and like a perfect vacationer or seasoned charmer, he had not shaved for at least two days. His radiant face with its beautifully sculpted features, sported a dark five o’clock shadow. His piercing eyes were the same color as the ocean. The man exuded sexuality.
    â€œIf I go for a dip, you won’t run away, will you?”
    She shook her head. The man pulled off his tank top and ran into the warm ocean waves. He swam out with a strong front crawl, dove into the foamy breakers a few times, then came back out. Brigitte had gone back to her chair.
    â€œYou got here yesterday.”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound like a question.”
    â€œIt’s not; I saw you arrive. We’re staying at the same hotel. Are you here for long?”
    â€œJust a week. But I’m not really on vacation, I’m working.”
    â€œPretty nice work!”
    â€œThe best!”
    â€œWhat do you do?”
    She had been waiting for this question. It always came up sooner or later. But she had no intention of revealing the nature of her work to this Adonis! He would probably mumble an apology, then think up some excuse and leave. They all did, at least the interesting ones. So instead she answered:
    â€œI’m a model for a Montreal fashion designer. I do private shows for certain customers. It’s not as exciting or prestigious as magazine work, but it’s pleasant, even if I mostly work at night. And it allows me to travel.”
    This was not so far from the truth. She actually did do shows, but not modeling clothes. Quite the opposite! Brigitte was an “exotic dancer,” a stripper, and she loved her work. Unfortunately—and this was her only regret—some of her colleagues gave her profession a bad name. But most of them did not do it in the same conditions or for the same reasons as she. Brigitte danced for pleasure. For practical reasons too, of course; after all, it paid very well, the hours were flexible, and she could travel. But most of all, it allowed her to satisfy a powerful need to unveil her charms for the eyes of an admiring audience.
    The first time she danced was on a bet when she was a student. She had gone to a strip bar with a few friends who had dared her and two other girls to get up on stage and strip. The sum of the bet grew with the boys’ desire to see their classmates take their clothes off. Within minutes the stakes had become quite interesting for a penniless student. But Brigitte quickly realized that even without the money, she would have done anything to get up on stage in front of her friends. She was drawn by some indefinable instinct; yet she had never given it a thought before that moment. The idea pulled her like a magnet. The two other girls finally declined, leaving Brigitte to rise to the challenge alone. With an air of determination she knocked back her drink and got up on stage in front of her amused companions. They were sure she would just do a quick little appearance, take off her clothes, and hurry off the stage—a joke was a joke. But much to their surprise, she firmly planted herself at center stage. With the first bars of the music she took off her shoes, then her blouse. She spent the entire song taking her clothes off, one piece at a time, until she stood there completely naked.
    At that moment she realized she was totally in her element. Sensing people’s eyes lingering on her body gave her enormous pleasure, as if she were being caressed by countless hands. On every inch of exposed