The following story was the result of an experiment that I undertook last fall. I wanted to gauge the reaction of men and what comments they would have if a beautiful, young and provocatively dressed woman would enter their domain.

I wore a thong and the shortest skirt I had in my possession, one that barely covered my bum. I looked in my closet for a top and found a nice white shirt that hugged my body in a way that would showcase my plentiful breasts and my large nipples would be prominently displayed at the hint of a breeze. I was braless and left a few of buttons undone so that a lot of cleavage was available. I put on a pair of 6-inch fuck-me pumps that challenged my balance to finish the get-up.

My friend Roman who was into the experiment picked me up at seven. His eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw me. He took me to a sports bar that knew would be packed with guys.

The hockey game had just started on the multiple screens as we arrived and there were a lot of men and a few women watching the game as I sauntered across the floor towards the bar. I felt eyes travel up and down my hot body as I leaned over the counter to order a drink. My ass stuck in the air as I bent over giving everyone in the room a nice eyeful.

The bartender came over to me and asked me what I wanted, his eyes locked on my breasts. My shirt was dangling open providing him a complimentary view of my ample breasts. I said, “I think…” and took a swizzle stick from a tray, stabbed a maraschino cherry and licked it “I’ll have a glass of white wine.” I finished.

The poor bartender flustered and asked, “A wha?” Not being able to take his eyes from my breasts.

“White wine.” I answered. With that, he went to get my drink.

I sat on a barstool and crossed my legs feeling the coldness of the wood against my buttocks. I spun around to look at the crowd and saw that hardly anyone was watching the game now their eyes were transfixed on me. Many of the guys averted their eyes as I looked at them a lot more made sideways glances in my direction. I could see them whispering to each other and motioning towards me. The women were the ones that really stared at me critically appraising me with their eyes. Their eyes narrowed to slits as they sized me up.

I took out a cigarette and dropped my lighter on purpose. Slowly I bent over to pick it up, as I did so, I felt my skirt rising over my bum exposing it to all. One half of the room was feasting on my breasts and the other half had my round bum to look at. I fumbled for the lighter on the floor and finally picked it up. Roman was in stitches as he was watched my feeble attempts and a little smile crept on my face as well.

All night, I could feel the guys in the room undress me with their eyes and when the game ended, I doubt if half of them knew what the score was. I would bend over to fix my shoe, run my hands over my breasts in a mock attempt to smooth my shirt, I sucked on cherries, bent over the bar and tortured the poor bartender with my tits. I did everything I thought I had to do to turn on everyone there that night.

There was a small dance floor in the corner of the bar and as the games ended, music was turned on. I asked Roman to dance and he flat out said NO. I pulled at him and he was steadfast in his refusal. I walked over and started dancing by myself. By now, my motions on the dance floor engrossed everyone. I turned my back to the room and unbuttoned my shirt to my navel and turned to face the crowd. A few guys had left their tables and had moved towards the dance floor to watch me.

I swayed to the music and ran my hands over myself as I grooved. I shook my breasts and my movements hiked my skirt up a little more.

After dancing to a few songs, I made my way back to the bar and was stopped by a guy.

He asked, “Are you a stripper?”

I answered, “No. I just like to dance.”

Unsatisfied with my response, he asked, “How much for an hour.”

I chuckled to myself and replied, “A buck fifty with tax.”

He laughed and I moved on sitting next to Roman. He mentioned to me that quite a few guys had come up to him when I was dancing and said to him that he was a lucky guy. (Did I mention that Roman is about six and a half feet tall and a solid, dark haired European hunk.)

Guys came over to talk to us about nothing at all. They talked to my breasts as they lay exposed to them and stammered really inane remarks about the game (which I didn’t watch), the weather and other things I didn’t hear. Other guys talked of how important they were, their jobs etc. in an attempt to impress me. But I didn’t get any overt advances, because Roman was by my side.

I felt a perverse sympathy for these guys because I was causing them all this grief. Their wives and girlfriends were probably going to get a good fucking when they got home.

Roman told me that he wanted to leave. All the guys watched in disappointment as we exited.

We laughed uproariously as we got into the car and didn’t stop until we returned to my place. I invited Roman up for a drink and he made sweet love to me saying that he was also getting really turned on by me at the bar.