Winning the Bet, Part 1

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“Remind me again why I’m doing this?” she asked as she leaned against the doorframe to her bedroom. “You lost the bet,” I said, taking another swig of my drink. The cheap whiskey in the cola made me grimace as I finished speaking. I was sitting on the sofa in the living room of her apartment, with a nice buzz going. “It just doesn’t seem right that I have to parade around in my underwear while you sit there fully dressed.” She stood up as she said this, swaying just a little bit. “Hey, you lost the bet fair and square. If I had lost you would have made me run naked through the bar, now take your clothes off!” “I’m not stripping ankara travesti for you!” she laughed, sounding insulted. “I agreed to model the contents of my underwear drawer, not do a striptease.” “Fine, have it your way. First thing, I want to see what you were wearing at work today. I’ve always wondered what kind of underwear you have on.” She raised an eyebrow at that and walked into her bedroom. I mentally kicked myself for coming on too strong. At the bar, we’d been flirting heavily, and she’d laughed when she agreed to my terms for the bet. Now that we were in her apartment, though, the mood had shifted. I was afraid ankara travestileri she’d change her mind and decide I was a creep. As I was thinking that, she walked back out of her room. The fitted white polo shirt was gone, as were her jeans. She was skinnier than I’d thought, with good-sized breasts. Her white cotton panties rode low on her narrow hips. She leaned against the wall with her arms folded beneath her bra — also white, with a simple floral texture. She seemed amused and uncertain what to do next. “Come on, don’t just stand over there, you said you’d model them for me. You’ve gotta at least walk over here and travesti ankara turn around so I can get a look at you,” I said. She rolled her eyes, and launched into an exaggerated runway walk. As she approached the couch, she stopped and turned a full circle in front of me, striking a pose like a model. We made eye contact, and for a moment it was awkward, but then we both burst out laughing. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the whole situation was too strange to take seriously. I made a show of looking her over from head to toe. She turned around and shook her ass at me as she walked back into her room. “What should I put on next?” she called from the bedroom. “Well, I don’t know what the options are… Why don’t you put on something you’d wear on a day when you’re feeling a little sexy?” I heard her rustling around, and after a few minutes she came back out.

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