Behind The Bike Sheds,
Chapter 8
Lauren
Soon after our experience with Caroline, Donna called me again. We discussed how the old water tower venue had worked and I pointed out that the brambles made for tough going underfoot.
I asked why meet outdoors, "We and you, run the risk of being spotted," I queried.
"So would you prefer it if we came around to your house?" Donna responded.
"I guess not. Though I have no problem with anyone knowing where I live, it would mean that my housemates could easily find out. Also, there isn't much space in my bedroom, and we couldn't use the communal areas."
"Right!" Donna continued. "And as you might have gathered, some of the showgirls you've met have partners, so they wouldn't want you at their homes. Even if they're single, giving their address to four boys they have never met before, no matter how polite, and then inviting them into their homes would not put anyone at ease. Also, if your showgirl decided she doesn't want to continue, if she's outdoors it's easy to get away. If everything took place indoors, there's no escape route. So you see, the risk of being caught is much less of a worry than the personal safety risks."
It made a lot of sense to me. I had just thought that these women, who were obviously erring on the side of being serious exhibitionists whether overtly or covertly, and who wanted to know that their bodies were still attractive to younger men, preferred to be outdoors not to add an extra frisson to the exercise but to give them a rapid exit if they needed one. I guess the same was true of me and the boys too, if, for example, someone suddenly spotted us we could make a run for it.
"I have another friend who's been so tantalised by the stories coming back from the other showgirls meetings with you boys, that she doesn't want to wait until college is back to show you what she has. Also, she's planning to do some travelling later in the year and may not be around when you return to college. She's a little older than the other women you've met so far, is that a problem for you?"
The number of women that Donna must have had waiting in the wings never ceased to amaze me. The showgirls we had met so far had all be, I would hazard a guess, were in their 30s, but had been loads of fun and though not supermodels, had great bodies and mischievous attitudes to go with it. I wondered how old the next woman that Donna had in mind was, but I didn't think it was gentlemanly to ask.
Donna continued, "She just turned 50 and is feeling a little sorry for herself and wants cheering up. I'm sure you will like her, and you might just be surprised how sprightly she is." How could I refuse? How could anyone really refuse, unless for some reason they didn't like the idea of a woman taking her clothes off and showing her body to you?
"I don't know where you find all these lovely showgirls," I must remember to ask her one day.
"But...", interjected Donna.
"No 'but' at all, except your lovely one," I had begun to get the measure of Donna. Saying complimentary things to her was always the best policy.
She laughed, "You always say the nicest things." She gave me the phone number for Lauren and we chatted some more before the usual hang-up routine. I received my winking smiley face shortly thereafter.
Lauren was keen to meet up and when I said it would have to be the week after next, she sounded a little deflated. As with Caroline, Lauren liked the idea of meeting on a Sunday morning though not quite as early.
Having battled through brambles for Caroline's show, Donna had suggested another area. It was a secluded opening in a local woods. Donna said that no-one went there since they had taken away a picnic area that had once been open, and just left a bench. And so at 10:00 the following Sunday, Mike, Adam and I (Conan was still on vacation) wended our way through the forest to the opening that Donna had suggested.
Lauren was already there. She was wearing a pair of white high heel shoes anda knee length white lace dress which followed the contours of her body and made no effort to hide the shapes that curved underneath. I'm not an expert on women's make-up, but the way Lauren had painted her face made her look like the wives in 70s soap operas that I'd seen on TV. Her shoulder-length curly hair with flecks of gray didn't help the look. Her face, at least, was showing her age.
"Come, come," Lauren beckoned us over to where she was standing. "Don't be shy boys!" She stood very still, with her arms by her side. We breifly introduced ourselves.
"It has a little secret. It's a magic dress!" Lauren continued, "Would you like to know what the magic is?" she asked. We all nodded enthusiastically. "One of you go and stand behind me. The others stand in front." I was the nearest so I moved towards and around her so that I was looking at her back. "Do you see a small hook in the middle, on the neckline?" I could see the hook.
"Now, gently get a hold of it," Lauren instructed. I moved a little closer and gently held either side of the hook with both hands. "Good. Now undo it." Lauren stood perfectly still as I unhooked her dress.
"Kneel down," the instructions continued. I knelt down, the sharp stones cut into my knees. "Hold onto the hem of my dress." I did as instructed. "Here's the magic part." A long pause before Lauren continued. "Give the dress a good solid tug downwards." I wasn't sure how solidly I needed to tug, so I began to pull the hem of the dress downwards gently at first and then with increasing force until... in a single movement, the dress fell to the floor. I could see the stunned looks on Adam and Mike's faces as she stood there, naked except for her heels.
"Oh, definitely", Mike replied. Adam just nodded.
She signalled that I should go back to where the other were standing. Moving around her front I could see just how amazingly pert her breasts truly were, 50 years old or not, they were impressively firm. She was also amazingly well toned, she must keep fit. I could also see the slit of her bush which also seemed tight and fresh. Her body would have put some 20-year-olds to shame.
"This isn't the most comfortable position, do you mind if I sit down?" Lauren asked.
"Of course not!" We chimed almost in unison. Lauren swung herself around and sat with her left leg hanging off the bench, and her right leg bent so that her foot was resting casually on the bench, her right hand behind her to support her. 
Lauren just sat there for a while as Adam took a couple of pictures.
Lauren looked at Adam, "Did you get a good shot of my quim?" Not a word I'd heard before, but 'quim' seemed highly appropriate for Lauren's petite bush. She opened her legs a little wider and we had a stunning view of her quim which looked as if had hardly ever been used.
"Or how's about this?" She raised her left leg further into the air. If it wasn't for the 70s style make-up and hair, and the fact that as one of our showgirls she was essentially untouchable, I would have most happily tried to go out on a date with her. I could imagine her sitting astride my lap, my cock buried deep in her oh-so-tight quim, her firm tits staring at me. My cock was straining hard against my shorts as my fantasies ran wild.
"I hope you enjoyed your show, boys!" We hadn't been there that long but she had had a massive effect on us. The magic dress and the nicest looking quim I had seen on any woman, let alone one of her age.
"It's such a lovely morning, I'm going to stay here for a while in the dappled sunlight that is coming through these trees, and let the gentle breeze dance across my body. It's increadibly liberating. You can stay and look if you want, or head back home." My assumption was that she was going to put on some clothes, whether the magic dress, or something else she had brought with her, but instead she just lay on the bench, face up, and still naked. It couldn't be that comfortable. 
She stretched a little, settled into what I could only assume was a less uncomfortable position, though it still didn't look that comfy to me, and closed her eyes. We all stood around watching for what must have been 10 minutes, but Lauren didn't move, seemingly at rest, naked on the bench, legs slightly apart. We didn't want to leave the view, but it was becoming apparent that she wasn't going to move. Perhaps she was waiting for us to go before she was going to get up and put on whatever other clothes she brought with us, as I doubted the magic dress could be easily re-assembled.
Taking the hint, we eventually walked away. I looked back over my shoulder and she was still lying there, legs slightly apart, naked other than her heels. I realized, later that day after I had made my way home that she had never asked us to undress. Perhaps she could sense our arousal through the lumps in our shorts and that was enough, or perhaps the act of undressing in front of a worshipping audience was all she wanted to do. I also realized that I had her phone number and could call and ask her out on a date, but decided not to, and instead ask Donna when she next called if it would be alright to do so.
It was quiet for the next few weeks. I didn't hear from Donna and by the time she called again, I had forgotten all about asking her if she thought that Lauren would be willing to go on a date.
"So how did you get on with Lauren?" she asked. I told her how impressed I had been with how good shape she had been in. Donna said she would pass on the praise to Lauren, who had already told her that she had so enjoyed sharing her quim with us that she had completely forgotten to ask us to undress ourselves.
"When do you boys return to college?" was her next question. We were due back in two weeks. "That's good. I've plenty more showgirls ready to go behind the bike sheds with you." I really should ask here where they were all coming from.
"Get your diary out, I've got a number of showgirls lined up for your first month back." I took down the names, numbers and proposed dates that Donna gave me.
"I need to check with the boys first. I know Adam used to have baseball practice after college on a Friday and has had to miss a number to come to the shows. It's not that he minds of course, but he doesn't want to get thrown off the team."
"Of course," Donna replied. "What boy could possibly resist the idea of spending a couple of hours in a sweaty gym throwing balls around, instead of playing with their own balls watching a sensual strip show put on by a salacious showgirl?"
We chatted a little longer and ended with our usual sign-off. My smiley face text arrived a few seconds later.