After a long day slinging pints in the beer tent, we decided to push through our exhaustion and take advantage of our volunteer passes, watching one quick set before going back to our tent.

It was our first time at this particular music festival, and the heat and adrenaline left us giddy and lightheaded. We scrolled through the program until we found a name we vaguely recognized, then made our way through the crowd, following the signs toward our selected stage.

Wrapping your arm around my waist, you pulled me close and nuzzled my ear.

“They might not let you in, you know. That outfit is on the verge of public indecency.”

Your free hand wandered up toward my cleavage and I swatted it away.

“It’s so hot,” I pouted. “Getting dressed at all is no fun.”

You smirked at me, tugging at the neckline of my snug, black, low-cut tank top. For a little extra fun, it featured a zipper that went right down the middle, stopping just below my breasts.

“Mmhm… And I suppose propping your tits up like this, putting your cleavage on display for everyone to ogle… That’s also a tool to combat the heat?”

I blushed, biting back a smile.

“No… That’s just for you.”

“Is it now… And is this for me, too?”

Sliding your hand down to my bottom, you grabbed it and squeezed, right where my bare ass cheeks started to peek out from under my very short, very tight cutoff jean shorts.

I giggled and squirmed under your touch.

“Of course,” I smiled, leaning in to kiss you.

You obliged me, but only for a moment so we could keep moving. When we reached our venue, there was a short line to get in. Standing at the back of it, you looked me over with a hungry, mischievous gleam in your eye.

“If this is all for me…” your hands took hold of my hips, pulling my body against yours, “then I’d like to see even more of it.”

Leaning down, you kissed me again, slower this time, with a gentle flick of your tongue.

Zip—I let out a small gasp as you pulled down the zipper on my tank top. With the zipper undone, my tits were all but spilling out of my shiny, black bra.

I looked up at you, my eyes wide and my cheeks flushed.

“Is that a problem?” you asked, raising a cocky eyebrow. Tingles ran through my body, an undeniable heat radiating from between my legs. I shook my head.

“No… Not a problem,” I assured you.

“Good,” you replied. Upon stepping back with a smile, you draped your arm across my shoulders, leaving me thoroughly exposed. I couldn’t help but see the people around us - milling about or passing by - lots of them were taking notice of my unzipped shirt, my body and lingerie laid bare for anyone and everyone to enjoy… 

We’d suddenly reached the front of the line, lifting our arms to show the bouncer our volunteer wristbands. He glanced at them, then stared openly at my tits. I swear I felt you adjust my body ever so slightly, pulling back on my shoulder and turning my chest out, to give him a better view. I might’ve inadvertently whimpered, overcome by a mixture of bashfulness and lust.

The bouncer waved us through, and you took my hand, leading me slowly through the crowd. Instead of making our way to the side of the audience, you led me directly down the middle of the crush of bodies. We had to squeeze past strangers, my barely covered tits rubbing against them as I turned one way and then another.

By the time we found a decent spot to stand, my tank top had been pushed so far to either side of my tits, wearing a shirt at all had become kind of irrelevant.

You looked down at me and grinned. Leaning close, your lips brushed my earlobe, making me shiver.

“Having fun?” you murmured.

I nodded, turning my face to yours.

“Yes, thank you.”

Before you pulled away, you slipped your hand under my bra. Taking hold of my nipple, you teased, tugged, rubbed and pinched it, all in one fluid, magical sweep that made me cry out. Luckily the music was loud enough, it didn’t seem like anyone noticed.

With a sly smile, you leaned back and put a finger to your lips, telling me to shush.

I shook my head at you, though you knew me too well - I couldn’t even pretend to be miffed. You knew exactly how to get me worked up, and that for the rest of the night I would be yours to do with as you pleased.


When the set ended, we gave in to our exhaustion and agreed to head back to our campsite. As we walked back through the audience and out into the festival crowd, you made no move to zip my shirt back up. I was once again subjected to furtive glances and blatant stares, while you strode confidently beside me, your hand in the back pocket of my tiny shorts. It was the kind of swagger that took hold of you when you knew I was at your mercy.

We boarded a shuttle that would take us back to camp, full of boisterous festival goers. A group of twenty-something girls spotted me and my unzipped tank top. Clearly a little drunk, one of them quite loudly commented “Oh my god!” laughing and nudging her friends. Their snickering both embarrassed me and turned me on like crazy.

You led me to an empty seat toward the back, sliding me into the spot by the window. Sitting next to me, you settled in for the bumpy ride back to camp.

With each jostle of the bus, my tits bounced and jiggled. Reaching for my tank top, for a foolish moment I thought you might have decided to zip it back up. Instead, you tucked the open flaps of fabric from the front of my shirt under the sides, so the entirety of my bra was revealed. Then, to my mortification and delight, you pulled out your phone.

Leaning back a little, you held it up and pointed it at me. I wasn’t entirely sure what you were doing, but I sat in my seat obediently, letting you enjoy yourself.

After a moment, you lowered your phone to your lap and snuggled up next to me. With the screen facing us, you pressed play on what turned out to be a slow-motion video of my tits, bouncing up and down. You made me watch the whole thing, and I felt the flush in my cheeks creep down to my neck.

“I really wanted to pull your bra down, so I could film your naked tits jiggling around, but I didn’t want you to get kicked out of the festival. Or arrested.” 

You smiled at me and I pursed my lips.

“How thoughtful of you.”

“It’s true,” you agreed. “I’m terribly considerate.”

When we reached the campsite, I was required to endure one more round of being paraded among a crowd of strangers - albeit smaller this time - as they stared and smirked at my uncovered bra and cleavage.

At our tent, you lifted the flap for me and I started to crouch down to enter, but you stopped me with your voice.

“On your hands and knees,” you said, gentle but firm. “I want to watch you crawl in.”

Even with other campers within view of our tent, I did as I was told, dropping onto all fours. Before I could crawl in you stopped me again. I waited, dutifully, looking up at you while you delivered further instructions.

“Mmm, that’s perfect… When you’re all the way inside, wait for me just like that.”

You gave my ass a sharp smack, sending me into our tent. I crawled inside and waited, per your direction. Low-light lanterns from other campsites seeped through our tent, bathing me in a soft glow.

In this position, my tits and ass were perfectly on display, ready for you to do with me as you pleased. I ached with longing, wondering what you had in store for me.

I could hear you puttering around outside, knowing perfectly well that you might actually be tending to things, or you could just be making me wait as a fun form of torment.

Either way, it was working.

Eva Monroe is a gal’s gal, guy’s gal, gal about town. She has a very active imagination and lots of opinions and frequently writes those things down. From screenplays to news articles to academic essays, Eva loves taking on the challenge of writing in new mediums, and her smut-tastic adventures with Bellesa are some of the most fun she’s ever had. Eva also co-produced two award-winning short films and has an MFA in screenwriting. Eva Monroe is not her real name.