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I saw the travelling Moebius Stripper show in New York. The crowd was apprehensive as the very attractive stripper appeared on the stage, clad in a clingy outfit with a big zipper down the front, continuing between her thighs all the way around up her back. She teased the audience with her undulations and mysterious ways. When she started to unzip herself the crowd chanted and moved closer, expectant and thrilled.

The stripper moved the zipper a little bit at a time, prolonging the pregnant air of sweaty anticipation. Groans and sharp inhalations punctuated the click-click of the zipper as it slowly unlocked its teeth, exposing what was sure to be a delightful vision, to be treasured with eyes closed during future lovemaking with wives and girlfriends.

The zipper passed between her thighs over her pubic bone. She reached back with her other hand, grasping the tab and pulling slightly faster. The click-click became a solid drone as she accelerated through the end of the zipper. The crowd pushed further towards the stage, their collective breath held for one infinite moment.

The moebius stripper was still clothed. She was twice as tall as before. The collective exhale was followed by disappointed diatribe.

If you cut a moebius strip down the middle, you end up with one long loop. Our attention was distracted from this fact by the curves of her figure and the twist of the manager's mind.