“Well…it’s okay, I guess,” Jessica said, sitting on the couch in her pajamas and appraising my costume. “But it’s a bit tame, isn’t it? Don’t some women dress up hella slutty to those things?”
I rolled my eyes. “Cosplay conventions aren’t about being slutty…”
“Bullshit,” she smiled. “I’ve seen the pictures from those events before and the hot girls always pick outfits that give them the most attention. Elvira. Slave Leia. Mystique. You know you’re like…really hot, right?”
I laughed. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Anytime. All I’m saying is that you had soooo many characters to choose from and you went with a sweater and long socks.”
“It’s Velma!” I protested. “Velma is sexy!”
“Hmmm,” she mused. “I guess so. I’m just saying…I just think you’re wasting an opportunity to feel slutty.”
“Why would I want to feel slutty?”
“Ummm because its fun?”
I looked down at my outfit, suddenly feeling self-conscious at how covered up I was. I was due to leave in fifteen minutes, but her lack of approval was throwing me. I sighed. “Well there’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“That’s not true,” she shrugged. I stared at her, waiting for more, but she turned back to the TV and picked up her toast.
“Well?” I prompted. “C’mon! What’s your big idea?”
She grinned. “You don’t want to know….”
***
The convention center was buzzing with energy, a happy and excited atmosphere where the geeks and the nerds and the losers and simps and the cosplayers all coexisted together in our dorky little world. I loved it there. I moved through the crowd in my orange turtleneck sweater, red pleated skirt, knee-high socks, and glasses, my outfit remaining exactly as it had when I’d shown it to Jessica that morning, with one small change.
A complete lack of panties.
I couldn’t believe I’d let her talk me into it. Worse, I hadn’t even brought the panties with me, leaving them on the kitchen countertop back at the apartment. I should have stuffed them in my pocket or my rucksack or something. Instead, I’d left myself vulnerable, my naked pussy almost completely on display for everyone to–
“Hey, Velma!” someone called out. I turned to see a group of guys taking pictures. I posed awkwardly, aware of my secret, the way their hands were placed so respectfully on my secretly-slutty body making my inner thighs tingle.
“Great picture,” one of the guys said. I smiled sweetly and moved away from them, self-concious and embarrassed and wondering how the fuck I had let this happen.
The worst part was that Jessica had somehow convinced me the outfit was tame, but even with panties my breasts would have strained against the tight sweater in the same way, the orange fabric stretched thin over them. With every step, they bounced slightly, drawing glances from both men and women. The stares were making me feel slutty and ashamed and embarrassed and…
Fuck. This was a fucking nightmare.
I moved over a vent on the floor and the air conditioning hit my pussy, a gentle breeze that made me gasp. I’d shaved completely smooth that morning, and despite my embarrassment and vulnerability (or maybe because of it) I could already feel myself getting wet, the excitement of my secret making my body respond in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
I stopped at a booth selling vintage comic books, leaning forward slightly to examine a display. When I turned around, the vendor on the stall opposite was nudging his buddy’s arm, and I felt myself flush. My nipples hardened against the fabric of my sweater, and I could feel my clit throbbing with need. I moved away quickly but it was only a few seconds before some else was calling out to me.
“Jinkies!” I turned to see a Shaggy and Scooby duo.
“Hi guys,” I said, my voice slightly shaky. “Great costumes…”
“You too,” Shaggy replied, his eyes dropping to my chest for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “Mind if we get a picture?”
I looked around, panic rising in my chest. “Oh, ugh, yeah, sure.”
I stood between them for the photo, trying to keep my legs pressed together, starting to get worried that I was dripping down my inner thigh, that the light would catch it and show it on camera. The photographer asked me to put my hands on my hips, which caused my skirt to ride up slightly. I could feel the cool air higher on my thighs.
When the photo was done, I excused myself quickly, needing to move away from the crowd. I found a relatively quiet corner near the restrooms and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
My pussy was soaking now, and I could feel the wetness beginning to seep through. I glanced down and saw a small damp spot forming on the back of my skirt. Panic mixed with excitement surged through me.
This was all Jessica’s fault.
“Hey, Velma! Over here!” someone called out.
Oh God, I thought. Not again.
Before I could react, a bunch of guys were all pointing cameras at me. I smiled and waved a little awkwardly, my pussy throbbing.
“Oh, hey! Can you do that classic Velma pose? You know, on your hands and knees, looking for your glasses?”
My heart pounded.
“I...I don’t think so,” I stammered, backing away.
“Come on! It would be perfect!” another photographer urged.
I shook my head and hurried away, my face burning.
I was frantic, looking for somewhere I wouldn’t be seen, and eventually found a spot between one of the stalls and the outer wall of the convention centre, deep within the shadows and unobserved. I lifted my skirt and looked down. My pussy was swollen and glistening, my juices coating my inner thighs. The sight of my bare, exposed pussy in this public place was…too much.
I knew I couldn’t wait until I got home. I needed relief now. I reached down and closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall as I began to rub circles around my clit. My other hand moved up to squeeze one of my breasts through the sweater, pinching my nipple through the fabric.
The sounds of the convention beside me–the chatter, the laughter, the announcements–only heightened my excitement. I was in a public place, surrounded by people, masturbating like some kind of slut.
The thought made my fingers move faster, and even with the background noise I could hear how wet I was. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as the pleasure began to build, my hips rocking backward and forward as I began to grind on my fingers, the images of the morning flashing through my mind; the photographers asking me to pose on my hands and knees; the vendor who might have seen up my skirt; the way men’s eyes followed my breasts.
Just as I was about to cum, I heard voices. Women. Two of them, close by.
“...way the cosplay was made was amazing. OH, and did you see the girl dressed as Velma?” one said. “That skirt was so short. She looked like such a slut.”
“I know, right?” the other replied, sounding disgusted. “Some people are such attention whores…disgusting…”
I started to cum, biting my lip hard to keep from crying out and confirming what they were saying. My whole body trembled as my pussy clenched. I leaned against the wall, panting, my heart racing. The women had moved on quickly, their voices fading back into the mass of communal voices.
I pulled out my phone, my fingers still wet, ready to call Jessica, to chastise her for making me such a slut, but before I unlocked it, I caught my reflection in the mirror of the screen. My face was flushed, my eyes bright with satisfaction, and I heard her voice in my head; Aren’t you having fun?
Well. Jessica. Yes. I suppose I am.
Damn.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of my hiding spot. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I gave those guys the “Velma pose” that they wanted after all…
I set out to find them.
Velma is hot. And your story just made her a whole lot hotter.
Really hot story👍😁
But I wondered one thing:
In the being when they were at the convention you wrote "rucksack" if it's not a bug in Substack... That's German for backpack🤔 is this common in english speaking countries, too?