<div class="floatright">(http://www.redbalcony.com/media/galleries/1412/Elisha_Cuthbert_10s.jpg)</div><br/><em>Jayne McArthur - Aka: Ferra Moan</em><br/><strong>Location: Shower Room</strong><br/>With Matt<br/><br/>"You want a striptease? Is that what you're trying to say?" Always with the playful tone, she didn't spend much time in the seductress role. That might have had to do with the fact that Matt provoked her playful side. "I could probably arrange something. I suppose I don't mind if you're the first one to see what I have hiding behind door number 1." The moment that reference slipped out, she sort of laughed, thinking briefly on the similarities of their numbered bedrooms, and the small efforts it took to get into them.<br/><br/>Without further delay, Jayne reached down to hook her thumbs into the strings that wrapped around her upper midsection, on either side of each panel of lycra that covered her breasts. She looked to him, the expression of mild curiosity on her face, as if she were to soon discover what was hiding for the first time too. She was wordlessly asking him<em>'This is what you wanted to see, right?'</em>, goading him with a mock ignorance. But the act was sexy too, perhaps innocent, but designed entirely to drive his desire of discovering what she had to offer him. Slowly, she pulled the top upward by the strings, the stretchy fabric straining, and consequentially  teasing her nipples into discernible nubs now begging to be freed of the material. As soon as the string coasted over the apex of its journey, the bikini top shrunk into nothing, tits fully exposed, momentarily jostling inches from Matt's face.  He would see that she had the nicest dusky areolas, a few shades darker than her tanned skin. And the points of her nipples were standing proudly, dappled by droplets of water that beaded all over her torso.<br/><br/>"You can say hello to them, if you want..."