[bsanchez]

***

Nancy waited backstage for her turn to go on. The thrill of performance sent tingles throughout her short plump body. There were about thirty of them in the dimly lit area behind the stage, most doing last-minute rehearsals for their skit. Nancy already had her routine down by heart though she had concerns that it wouldn't be anything show-winning.

As luck would have it, she was number 32--the last to go up. As skit after skit went up, each more impressive than the last, Nancy's heart sank. They were all so good and their costumes so perfect. What could one little Batgirl, one who barely fit within the confines of her skin-tight suit, no less, do to win the show?

It was dark during the last skit and there were no other performers nearby. Instinctively, the fingers of her right hand crept down to her crotch. *Just letting off steam* she thought as the tip of her finger found her clit. Her broad hips jumped at the touch and she began to rub in small circles. Nancy spread her thighs and closed her eyes, her other hand cupping her breast. She felt the nipple stiff enunder her caress. Her curvaceous body began to sway rhythmically and her lips parted slightly.

Not ten feet away, a stagehand was cleaning up feathers that had fallen off the costumes of the prior performers. Nancy's actions quickly caught his notice. Though it had seemed dark and private enough when Nancy had begun her internal explorations, in fact, she was, in fact, quite clearly outlined by the bright lights off to her side. Her profile was a silhouette, but her movements were unmistakable. The stagehand could see the glistening as Nancy's lips parted, could see her fondle her breasts, could even see her furry thatch quite brightly limned by the stage lights. This surprised him. It looked like she wasn't wearing a stitch.

He licked his lips. Could this be possible? Had this performer stripped out of her costume while no one was looking? Or was it just a trick of the light? Looking more closely, he saw what was happening. The material of Nancy's costume, progressively failing, had finally given up the ghost once she had started playing with herself. As the stagehand watched, the fabric split and shed in large pieces, drifting slowly to the floor virtually weightless. It slipped off Nancy's breasts leaving them open to the air. It fell off her thighs exposing creamy skin. In short order, only her cowl, cape, boots and gloves were left.

But Nancy didn't notice. It all felt too good. It was not until the applause and the buzzer announcing that her time had come did she abandon her activities. She frowned a little--she hadn't quite finished. Then she smiled. It was show time!

Hearing her name announced, she boldly walked out through the curtain and onto the stage... unknowingly leaving her costume in tatters behind her.