Me? I was dressed as the Phantom of the opera, complete with the half facial mask and a satin cloak. Who else would escort such a delectable creature such as Babe to a party than the Phantom?
Oz turned off the outside lights and then invited us back to his card room. He had designed and built this room himself. The walls were dark rich wood with a fireplace on one side. The warm glow of the fire was inviting. In the center of the room was a round card table, just large enough to seat four players. The table was covered with a thick black felt and the rim was adorned with padded leather for the arm rests. All of the chairs were on casters, swiveled, and very comfortable for sitting for lengthy periods of time. The unique thing about this table was, the top could spin, just like a huge Lazy Susan you would find in a cupboard. Other than the fireplace, there was a spotlight mounted on the ceiling above the table, capable of being dimmed and brightened, that was the only lighting in the room
We stood chatting as Oz turned on his stereo system. He had loaded the CD player with nothing but slow sultry music. By now, we had all had a good buzz going, including Babe. Mike reached into his tool belt and pulled out a hooter, lit it, and passed it to Jim. We all took turns with the joint until it was nothing but paper and ash. The pot seemed to level our ringing buzzes from the liquor and sent our senses back into a keen state of mind.
Babe was off to the side by the glow of the fireplace swaying her hips to the slow beat of the music. All of us stopped talking at the same time, and just watched as she fell into her own little world, as she danced seductively.
I broke our trances when I suggested to Babe, that she dance on the table for us. She smiled like a Cheshire cat and danced in beat with the tune over to me. She sauntered all around me, touching me, tracing little lines on my chest and body with her fingers. Then she did the same to Oz, then Mike, and Jim. She seemed like a cat toying with her prey. Soon she would learn that she would become the prey.
Oz, still wearing his goalie mask, helped Babe to step up on the chair, then onto the table top. By now, she was completely into her dancing as she swayed her hips side to side while her hands ran up and down her long legs, inside of her thighs. The four of us sat down at the edge of the table in the plush chairs. We were getting our very own personalized table dance from Babe.
With her legs as long as they were and her short black skirt, none of us had any difficulty seeing underneath the hem line. I admit, I was a bit surprised that she was not wearing any panties. As the tunes changed into something with a harder beat, so did Babe. By now she was leaning forward, resting her hands on her knees, keeping her long legs straight. Her skirt rode up above her firm sweet ass cheeks. We could see the cleft of her pouting pussy lips when she did.
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