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It was over twenty years ago, when our two young children were spending time that summer with their grandparents. Brian and I had engaged on our planned road trip through New England that summer. We stayed at hotels, motels and bed and breakfast's. We spent our time seeing the beauty of 'Martha's Vineyard', 'Cape Cod', the 'Maine Coast', along with a steamboat cruise across 'Lake Winnipesauke' in New Hampshire. While staying at a Bed and Breakfast in New Hampshire, things started to heat up.
It was about 9:00 p.m. one evening when Brian and I decided to go out and have a drink, while staying at a local B&B. We were in a small New Hampshire town with absolutely "No Night Life". We walked down the deserted street until we saw a lit "Miller Life" sign. We walked into the corner dive bar to wet our whistles. After entering the dingy, but clean corner pub, we found ourselves among seven old men. By 'Old', I mean the seven men were in their mid seventies, if not their eighties. Brian and I made our way to the bar and ordered our drinks from a man named "Walter". We noticed a birthday cake on a table near the bar. We would later find out Walter was the birthday boy.
By 9:45 we had been introduced to the sweet old men and were engaged in conversation with them. It turns out the seven men had served in WW II together. They came together from all over the states to celebrate Walter's birthday. and share their memories of that terrible war. I had noticed a sign by the entrance door earlier that read, "Closing at 10:00 p.m. this evening. Thanks for understanding. The Management." I said to Brian, "We need to order one last drink and finish them off quickly. They're closing in fifteen minutes". That's when Earl (one of the seven men) said, "Don't worry about that. Our plan for Walter's birthday was cancelled about an hour ago". "What plan?", I asked. Earl turned beet red as he uttered the words, "We had hired a stripper for Walt's birthday, but she called and said she couldn't make it.
Brian and I had ordered another drink, while feeling saddened for The sweet old men, especially Walter. Brian looked at me with what could only be described as a sinister expression. I grabbed his collar and pulled his ear down to my lips. "Forget it! I am not going to perform a striptease for these men, no matter how bad I feel for them", in a low but stern and decisive tone. I took a sip from my drink as I looked over the facial expressions of the seven old men. Disappointment was the only word that could summarize their countenance. I asked Walter, "Walter. How old are you today?" He replied, "I'm eighty years old".
I took Brian's hand and led him to the dart board hanging on the wall, about fifteen feet from where the men were sitting at the bar. Brian had a hopeful look on his face, but didn't dare say a word. I quietly said to him, "I'm not stripping for these men, but if they agree to lock up at 10:00 as planned, I'll serve them their beer, topless. One half hour only, Brian! Not a minute more!", I insisted. Brian had an ear to ear grin on his face as we returned to our seats at the bar. Once at the bar, the seven men were looking toward us, as if knowing some private agreement had been made between my husband and I.
Brian looked at me and asked, "Do you want to tell them, or should I ?" Considering reneging on my offer, I just whispered, "You tell them". Brian stood up and said, "Gentlemen. Especially you Walter. My wife Kelly has offered to serve you your beer while she is topless, if you still want to close the bar at 10:00. Which by the way is in four minutes", he continued, as he looked at his watch. Every eye was on me. Some of the men were cheering, as Walter looked at me and mouthed the words, "Thank You".
One of the men, 'Sam' got up and posted the "CLOSED" sign, then locked the front door. All of the blinds on the few windows had already been drawn in anticipation of the stripper who was supposed to perform. I gulped down my drink and looked towards the 'Ladies Room'. There was a 'Bra' painted on the door, and a 'Jock Strap' painted on the men's room door. Like I said earlier, a clean yet dingy corner pub. I got up from my bar stool and headed for the ladies room to the cheers of the seven old men, as my heart felt like it might burst out of my chest.
That night, I was wearing a yellow, sleeveless button up top with white bra, along with my jean shirt, red and white striped low cut panties and sandals. I was 5'3" tall and 115 lbs. at the time, with size "C" breasts. I entered the ladies room barely able to catch my breath, wondering why I had offered to do something so outrageous. I took a few deep breaths and looked at myself in the mirror. I unbuttoned my shirt and removed it, then unclasped my bra and placed it with my shirt on a small shelf. I then stared at my topless refection in the mirror.
I have no idea why. Maybe the liquor, or just the thrill of pushing the envelope, but I unbuttoned my jean shirt, pulled down the zipper, and let it fall down to my ankles. I stepped out of the skirt, picked it up and folded it, placing it with my shirt and bra. Before I could change my mind, I walked out of the ladies room into the bar, wearing only my red and white striped low cut panties and sandals. The place was silent as my husband Brian, and the seven old men stared at my almost naked body. Within seconds, everyone started to cheers as Walter filled a pitcher of beer for me to refill the glasses of his friends. "Alright! That's enough", I said with a smile. "You all act like you've never seen a topless woman before". Taking the pitcher of beer, then topping off the men's glasses, I suggested everyone sit around the table where the cake was, and sing 'Happy Birthday' to Walter. They all agreed.
The birthday cake sat in the middle of a round table, now surrounded by my husband. and seven fully clothed old men, as I walked around filling glasses with beer, wearing only my panties and sandals. I must admit, it wasn't long before I started to feel not only more comfortable, but a bit aroused. I leaned over the table to light the candles. (Thankfully there were not eighty of them, but only eight. One for each decade) as I purposely let them all see my tits hanging down in front of them, as I lit the eight candles .
We all sang 'Happy Birthday' but the men seemed more interested in looking at me, than having some cake. Everyone of the old men acted in a gentlemanly manner towards me. I felt safe, comfortable yet a bit sexy and aroused, as I continued to converse with them, as I refilled their glasses. The half hour expired but neither Brian or I mentioned it. I hung out with the seven men and my husband wearing only my panties and sandals, for two hours. We played darts, danced to the juke box and just enjoyed being part of their reunion. Not a single grope or grab the entire time. At midnight it was time for all of us to go back to wherever we were staying that night.
I went into the ladies room, retrieved my clothes, and dressed in front of the sweet old men. Once dressed, they all gave me a hug and expressed their appreciation for me filling in for the stripper, in my own way. All eight of us left the corner pub at the same time, feeling pleased about how the evening played out. I could never imagine feeling so contented, that I spent two hours wearing only my panties and sandals among seven strangers. Brian could not have been happier. Come to think about it, either could I.
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