I scream when you put your hand on my thigh, then reach down, abandoning the blade, and unzip my skirt, pulling it off my legs and throwing it down, crumpled in a heap next to me. I push my leggings down so they are under my knees, and quickly pull off my panties so they don't get torn. My body is shaved, legs and between, to a supple smoothness. The stripping was brought on by the threat of making you angry. My face is still in your hand, I shake my head "no" in response to your question. The black lights of the club make it hard for me to see properly, and that scares me. My chest is heaving even more now out of terror and just a hint of curiousity.
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