VS Ch. 03
by gossog©


DENISE ZELLNER 
LOS SANTOS, CALIF. 
JUNE

Here's how it started, at least for me. I was actually one of the first, even 
before Kathy and Barbara.

They want me to tell what happened that day as I experienced it, without filling 
in all the things we figured out later. My story is just one piece in a big (and 
still incomplete) puzzle.

It was a Saturday afternoon, the first weekend after my high school graduation. 
It was the first scorching hot day of the year, where the weather seemed to say 
"It's summer now, get used to it." Hot enough to be uncomfortable, unless you 
had the luxury of having no plans at all, and could put on a swimsuit, walk into 
the back yard, and settle down with an iced tea and a trashy paperback. That's 
what I was doing.

I had my phone with me, just in case, thinking I might hook up later with our 
group: my best friend Wendy (friends since soccer camp, ten years ago); Erin, 
who was going to UCI with Wendy; and Diane, who knew Erin at first before we all 
met. Diane was the oldest of us, almost 22, also at UCI. Her parents were loaded 
and she lived in this huge house in a gated community up in the foothills. We 
all had been hanging out together since Christmas break, and even though I 
wasn't starting college until next year, I never felt like I didn't belong.

About 3 pm, Wendy called. "Hey, D, whatcha doing?"

"Nothing!" I said. It sounded kind of defiant. "It feels great!"

"'Nothing', like staring at the walls, nothing?"

"Actually, laying out." I turned over my book to check the cover. "Reading 
'Surrender to Passion.'"

"Sounds boring," she said. We knew we could razz each other, and often did. 
"Want to do something better?"

"Like what?"

"Go to Diane's and take a dip in her pool. She's inviting us."

"Sure!"

"How soon can you be ready? I'll pick you up."

"What do I need to bring?"

"Just your swimsuit. She's got towels and everything."

"Then I'm ready right now!"

"See you out front," she said.

I had been to Diane's before, but only at night, and never in her pool. No doubt 
it would be spectacular. Anyway, the sun had gotten hot and I was really looking 
forward to cooling off.

When I got back inside, the doorbell rang; Wendy was already here. She must have 
called as she was pulling in the driveway.

"Mom, I'm going with Wendy to Diane's," I called out. Mom had met them both, and had no problem with me going. We both knew that next year in college, she 
wouldn't have any say.

Wendy was wearing a blue bikini top and a sarong wrapped around her waist. 
"You're looking fine," I teased, sashaying out the door.

"You're all set for the Olympic finals," she said, smirking.

She had me there. I was wearing a one-piece red swimsuit that was pretty modest. 
It bared my upper back, going down about halfway, but only had a little bit of a 
scoop neckline in front. Even so, I would catch guys sneaking a peek, especially 
if I bent forward. But it wasn't a big attention-getter. Made for swimming 
instead of tanning.

I actually liked it that way. After years of playing soccer, going on hikes and 
other "tomboy" stuff, I got a late start at doing "girly" stuff. Wendy says my 
body developed into a woman's before my mind did. Even at 18 I preferred the 
functional one-piece suit over a flamboyant bikini. It seemed more honest. More 
like me.

Erin was already there when we arrived at Diane's, and they greeted us with 
glasses of white wine. I wasn't used to drinking wine without a meal; I sipped a 
little bit as Diane ushered us through to the pool, and then put it aside. The 
pool was gorgeous, like what you'd find at a resort, surrounded by a curving 
tiled wall, veranda, and large deck with deluxe lounge chairs.

The water was just the right temperature: a little chilly until you got used to 
it. Wendy dove underwater a few times; I watched her blue bikini ripple and blur 
as she reached the deep end. Erin wore a white one that showed off her curves. 
She was content to just lean against the wall and watch us swim. Diane wore this 
sleek white one-piece with a deep neckline and almost no sides. When wet, it 
turned transparent. "I can't wear this outside the house," she laughed. I 
couldn't picture myself wearing it anywhere. I would have been terrified.

The other three stayed in with me for a while, then dried off and stretched out 
on the lounge chairs.

I swam underwater, enjoying the respite from the world above. The water must 
have been 12 feet deep at the end; I let myself drift down until my ears hurt. I 
could imagine I was flying, making lazy circles under the clouds. After a while, 
I was ready for some sun, and climbed out. I just stood there, water dripping 
off me, forming a puddle by the ladder. The scene before me showed that there 
were a few things about my friends I didn't know.

Wendy was asleep, or just resting her eyes, lying on her back. Her bikini top 
was on the deck next to her, looking like a spilled drink. We'd been friends for 
years, and I had never seen her topless. She was slim, and her breasts were 
small, unlike mine. She had slight tanlines, not much of a tan yet. Her bikini 
bottom looked very small compared to all the exposed skin. I hoped she had put 
on sunscreen.

Erin was walking back from the kitchen with some water bottles. She had also 
taken off her top, and seemed entirely at ease like that. She had an enviable 
figure I couldn't help comparing to mine. I have a good-sized chest, and I've 
always been physically fit; but she had those subtle differences, those curves 
in just the right places, that made a big difference. She could totally turn 
heads at the beach.

"Oh, thank you," Diane said, taking a bottle. She was sitting upright, and she 
had taken everything off. Her legs were apart; she didn't bother hiding 
anything. She behaved like being naked outside was no big thing. I'd had no idea 
she was into this.

She must have noticed me staring. "Denise, are you OK? It looks like you saw a 
ghost!"

"Aren't you worried people will see you like that?" Neighboring houses had 
second-floor windows with a view. I glanced up, but saw only reflections of a 
cloudless sky.

"Not really. The whole community really values privacy. That's why you have the 
gates and fences and big houses. Most of the neighbors don't even know each 
other."

I toweled off and laid down. From our chairs, we had a great view of the hills 
over the fence. Someone out there would be able to see in, too.

"It's pretty secluded," said Erin. "Except for the high school kid next door. 
He's looking out from between his curtains. I think he has a crush on Diane."

"Where?" I said, looking up, and she laughed. "Just kidding," she said. "Playing 
with you."

I forced a laugh. "It's okay."

"I guess you're not very adventurous, are you?"

"I'm not chicken," I wanted to clarify. "I'm just not much for being naked 
outside."

"Have you fooled around with guys yet?" she asked.

"A few times. But... I want it to be special. You know... not just with anyone." 
I shrugged, unable to think of a really succinct way of putting it. I wasn't 
entirely happy with this line of questioning.

"Well, good for her," Diane announced. "I have a niece, only 13 years old, and 
she wants to dress like Paris Hilton already, with makeup, miniskirt and crop 
top. That's way too young, you know?"

I didn't like being compared to a 13-year-old; and anyway, this was a funny 
comment to hear from a woman sitting there nude. But I liked Diane a lot. She 
was just 3 years older than me, but had a lot more wisdom than the rest of us. 
If I had a really cool big sister, she would be like Diane.

Erin had somewhat of an edge to her, sometimes stirring up mischief, though I 
wouldn't say she was mean. It's just that Diane looked out for people more.

Wendy was a friend from way back, but I could feel us drifting apart a little. 
Going to different colleges would change things unavoidably. She used to play 
soccer with me, and we would go walking in the woods when either one of us was 
feeling stressed. One summer my parents invited her to come along with us to 
Maui.

She was standing up now, and peeled off her bikini bottoms. She had either 
trimmed or waxed, because her pubic hair was a thin strip. Naked, she sat back 
down and closed her eyes again. I wondered if she had been doing this for a long 
time, but I didn't want to ask in front of the others.

We stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, talking about various things and 
just relaxing. I tried not to stare at their bodies, but it was hard not to 
look. Diane had a model's body, slender with small breasts, and a refined face 
with fine blonde hair. Wendy had a similar body, but looked more like the cute 
girl next door: a few freckles, pert nose, and wavy brown hair.

I hoped they didn't expect me to strip too. I didn't want to. But I was starting 
to feel peer pressure, and starting to feel like the little kid in the group.

Eventually the topic of what to do that night came up, and none of us had really 
made plans. Diane suggested that we go run our suits through a quick wash, then 
go home and change, and go downtown for dinner. That sounded great, and we went inside.

Erin stepped out of her bikini bottom on the patio steps. All three were naked 
now, and they walked over to the laundry room carrying their swimsuits. I wanted 
to ask where the bathroom was, so I could strip in private and then put on a 
towel. But I hesitated, worried I would sound like a prude (or worse, a little 
kid), and then I had to follow them anyway so I could ask. By then they were 
already dropping their suits in the washer. Now my request would sound silly 
since I was already there.

I stood there for a moment until Diane said, "Denise, go ahead."

I pulled at the straps of my suit gingerly, freeing my shoulders.

"Don't worry," Diane said. "It's just us."

The last thing I wanted to do was make a scene, to stand out. I braced myself, 
like preparing to rip off a band-aid, and peeled off my suit quickly. I dropped 
it in and tried to act casual instead of self-conscious.

"Hey, she's hot," said Erin, grinning, checking me out. Diane shot her a quick 
stern look: don't tease.

I still wanted to get a towel. Even with my friends, inside, where no one could 
see; even though they were all naked too; I instinctively wanted to cover up.

The phone rang in the kitchen. We could see it from where we stood. Diane walked 
over and took the call. I couldn't conceive of doing what she did, just standing 
against the countertop, naked, with a huge sliding glass door and window behind 
her. I would have felt like I was in a fishbowl.

"I wonder who it is?" Wendy whispered.

"Gotta be a boyfriend," Erin said. "Look at the way she's talking to him."

"If he had any idea there were four naked chicks here, he'd drop the phone and 
drive over," Wendy joked.

I felt a hand on my bottom: Erin's. "Cute butt," she whispered, teasing again. I 
wanted to move forward, but Wendy was blocking me. Another inch, and my boobs 
would be pressing into her back. I didn't want that. I squirmed to the side, but 
Erin kept her hand there. I was basically trapped.

Diane spoke animatedly, twirling her hair, laughing, sitting on a stool, then 
hopping off. She seemed to be much more absorbed in the conversation than her 
surroundings. What surprised us was when her free hand drifted between her legs 
and then stayed there. Gently tapping and stroking, with the tips of her 
fingers. Had she forgotten we were here? I was finding out so many things about 
my friends that it seemed I didn't even know them anymore.

Maybe she had told him what she was wearing, or not wearing, and their talk had 
taken an erotic turn. "Oh my god, look!" Erin whispered. It looked like Diane 
was about to insert a fingertip inside. Then she saw us, glared at us, and 
turned away. We could only see from the back, but it seemed like she was still 
doing it. Now I was feeling a little uncomfortable. Was she mad at me? Were we 
intruding? Should we go?

Erin was still teasing me, kind of tickling I guess, her fingertips gently 
stroking the curves where my butt joined my upper thigh. I wasn't really 
ticklish there; just a little bit, I guess, but mainly the sensation was making 
me shiver instead of laugh. She was totally invading my personal space. She was 
very surreptitious about it; Wendy and Diane wouldn't have noticed.

Diane hung up and turned toward us, smiling. I guess she never stayed upset for 
long. Or maybe it was the news she had: Her boyfriend had a block of extra 
tickets to see the Grey Caps that night! All of us could go if we wanted. That 
settled our plans for the night in a hurry.

I guess I should talk a little about the Caps. They were red hot now, but years 
from now people might wonder who I was talking about.

Tickets to the Grey Caps were impossible to get. They had the number one selling 
CD, single, ringtone, download, school lunch box, everything. Their songs had 
this menacing, suggestive groove; even the songs that were not about sex were 
still about sex. And there were these strange rumors swirling around the Caps, 
too: bizarre stuff like them not really being human, not eating, not even 
breathing. Like mushrooms. How could stuff like that persist? I mean, how can 
you sing if you don't breathe?

Much of their fame or infamy came from the "Underground" video. It was shown on 
TV exactly once, on a Saturday midnight premiere on MTV. The uproar was so huge 
that all the stations were saying they could no longer play it. (You can still 
see it, though; It's all over the Internet.)

The video wasn't really groundbreaking: just the four Caps playing a house 
party, with concert scenes, dancing and stuff. There must be a billion videos 
like that. But in "Underground," all the dancing women, all the girls at the 
party, were naked, head to toe. Their naughty bits were digitally censored, not 
with pixel blurs, but old-fashioned black bars that covered up just what they 
needed to. Each girl had a narrow horizontal bar at her breasts, basically from 
one nipple to the other, and a little square between her legs. In order not to 
reveal anything they shouldn't, these bars moved in near-perfect sync with the 
girls as they danced.

That was probably bad enough for the conservative groups. But the bars were only 
used when the camera had a frontal view. If a girl was shown from the back, 
nothing was covered, so there were lots of bare bottoms. Even from the side 
view, the girls weren't censored, so you did spot some bare breasts, but only 
partially.

My lab partner confessed he had fallen in love with "the Asian girl" in the 
video, and that if I watched it, I'd know which one he meant. I basically told 
him that telling me this creeped me out, so he stopped. He might still be 
searching the net, trying to find out who she is. The totally uncensored version 
of the video, if it exists, is a holy grail for most of the guys. As far as I've 
overheard, no one has found it.

Wendy had the video sitting on her hard drive, so we looked through it. The 
Asian girl showed up, and yes, I kind of remembered her. She was in a group of 
three. She was seen first from the back, swiveling her bare bottom, her long 
hair swishing side to side. She looked over her shoulder and turned a little, 
and she was definitely flirting with the camera. No wonder the guys liked her. 
She moved into a side view, even a little toward the front, and still nothing 
was censored. Her large breasts swayed up and down. Her hard nipples were the 
color and size of chocolate bonbons; probably just as tasty for guys. As she 
twisted, you could often see both, though still from mainly a side view. A few 
times, we saw a flash of black pubic hair, as her hips rotated to just the right 
position, and it was still not covered. It seemed the producer was deliberately 
being careless with this girl. Only when she turned fully to the front, and 
started dancing toward the camera, did the black bars finally flicker on.

We agreed this was totally unfair: where were the buck-naked men? And why, when the video lingered on the bodies of these hot young women, did we never really get a good look at the Caps themselves? We didn't really know what they looked like.

Still, we absolutely wanted to go to that concert. You should have seen us 
hugging and high-fiving when Diane said she had tickets for us.

We would have to go pretty soon, though. Diane brought Erin's and Wendy's bags, 
and they changed into street clothes.

"Denise, you didn't bring clothes?" Diane said.

"Nope. All I have is the suit, and it's in the wash!"

She thought for a second, and said, "I've got just the thing for you." She 
brought me a huge white towel, even bigger than a beach towel, lusciously soft 
and smelling fresh out of the dryer. "You can wear this in the car, and we'll 
drop you off at your house."

I wrapped it around me, and it covered from my shoulders almost to my ankles; I 
had never seen a towel this big. And it felt delicious against my skin. I 
demanded to know where it was from, but she didn't know; her parents had 
purchased a set somewhere in Europe.

Wendy drove back alone to run a quick errand, and Erin and I rode in Diane's 
Mercedes. It was luxurious and roomy, and with the sumptuous towel it seemed 
like I was getting limo service to a spa. Diane took another call, and this one 
was short. Afterward, she asked if it was OK if we picked up two guys on the 
way. She said I would know Rob, one of them. I didn't like that; the boys would 
be sitting with me in the back, and I was still naked under this towel. I asked 
if she could drop me off first.

"Actually, we're going over to Erin's and then the concert. It's on the way. She 
has some clothes that should fit you." I didn't want to insist on being the wet 
blanket, so I went along with it. At Rob's house, I stayed in the car while 
Diane went to their front door.

I recognized Rob from a few years ago; he had been a senior in band when I was a 
freshman. He had grown into a pretty handsome man. Terry was the other guy, and he looked about 25. Terry took the left seat, Rob the right, with me in the 
middle. Terry offered a handshake and I had to maneuver an arm out of the 
voluminous folds of towel protecting me. I could tell he was wondering what I 
had on underneath. Well, none of his business. I didn't like him much already.

To put him aside, I talked to Rob instead, catching up on news about some 
friends we had in common. He said he was majoring in sports therapy. Erin 
overheard this and said, "He gives a greeeat shoulder massage. You ought to have 
him do you."

"No, no thanks," I said.

"It's pretty chaste," Rob said. "The goal is to loosen and strengthen muscles 
around the neck and shoulders, not to seduce a person. Teammates give them to 
each other, and you don't have to have clothes off. I mean, you could leave the 
towel on."

"Oh, Rob, admit it," said Erin. "The best massage is where the woman is naked, 
you're naked, and you have a happy ending." Diane tossed a lightly scolding 
"Erin!" her way.

Rob was getting defensive. "It's really not that way! Denise, here, turn your 
back to me. If at any time it hurts or you feel uncomfortable, just say stop."

I felt boxed in again. I didn't want to turn down something that seemed so 
reasonable. And I told myself I could always say "stop" later.

I didn't want to look at Terry head-on, so I inched closer to Rob and then faced 
diagonally, toward the driver's seat. He started very gently, so that it almost 
felt that the towel itself was doing the work.

After a while he added pressure, working with his thumbs and palms, and I had to 
admit, doing a really good job. I didn't realize how tight my muscles were, but 
I could feel them relaxing under his touch. He never touched bare skin; he only 
worked through the towel. I felt warmth around my shoulders and neck, just as if 
I were back in the sun.


Terry was talking with Erin and had apparently lost interest in what Rob was 
doing. That was nice; a little more privacy. I would be happy with Rob 
continuing until we got to her house. If I didn't fall asleep first; it was very 
cozy and comfy. And I felt myself rationalizing that technically Rob was a 
friend, and I knew he was a good guy, and I sure would like to feel how the 
massage was on bare skin.

"Here, wait a minute," I said. I wriggled one arm out of the towel and held it 
up while I freed the other. I leaned forward and the towel drooped in the back, 
baring my shoulders. I kept it crossed over my breasts like a bandeau, or a 
wedding dress, and folded my arms to keep it there.

"Okay," I said, and Rob resumed. His touch wasn't sexual at all, but it was 
friendly, and it seemed to be doing me a world of good. Terry looked at me, 
raised his eyebrows, but then actually blushed and turned away. Maybe he wasn't 
a total creep after all.

Rob's fingertips on my bare skin spread warmth throughout me, and I think I fell 
asleep very fast. It was like falling into warm water. I was back in Diane's 
pool, and jetting underwater like a minnow, enjoying the weightless feeling of 
being immersed. I wasn't wearing my suit. Not that I had simply taken it off; 
instead, it seemed like I had stopped wearing one. I came up for air and then 
dove again, like a dolphin.

Suddenly the pool was larger, much larger. The walls disappeared and the water 
grew salty. It was dark around me now, except for a rippling rectangle of light, 
high above, that I understood was the surface of the pool. I looked down, and 
saw a bird's-eye night view of a city.

It was like flying into LA at night; everything that would otherwise be 
invisible was outlined in little dots of light. The more I looked, the more I 
noticed how different this city was. There were no patterns, no straight lines 
or rivers or freeways outlined by the lights. Shapes and colors were random, 
more grown than planned. And the lights were the cool phosphorescent colors of 
the deep, without the power to illuminate anything around them. Each light 
attracted attention only to itself. Every light belonged to some living 
creature.

I didn't see movement at first, other than some blinks in sequence, rippling 
like dominos, the sort of light patterns some jellyfish make. But then I saw 
huge dark things peel themselves away from the city, drifting upward. I had no 
idea how large they were. Aside from the lights covering them, I would not have 
seen anything. I saw no faces or anything; but the way they moved, slow and 
deliberate, looked evil.

It was time to get out of the water.

I darted toward the rectangle of sunlight above, not daring to look back. When I 
surfaced, I was back in Diane's pool, surrounded by reassuring blue concrete. 
The city in the sea was gone, and my earlier fear seemed to drain away. As I 
climbed out, I was mainly feeling guilty about swimming nude in her pool, as if 
she had said "make yourself at home" and I had taken it too far. When I saw Erin 
and Diane, I no longer worried about even that.

Diane was leaning back in her lounge chair, talking on the phone, and she was 
nude. Her left hand held the phone; her right hand caressed her left breast, 
thumb teasing the nipple. This all seemed normal, given what had happened 
earlier at her house.

Erin, however, was also naked, and had folded a towel to give her a place to 
kneel. I didn't see their swimsuits anywhere. She was leaning forward and 
licking Diane between her legs. Diane was enjoying this for a while, and then 
Erin must have done something, found the right spot, and Diane spasmed, as if 
electrocuted, and dropped the phone. She clasped her lounge chair with both 
hands and closed her eyes.

Was anyone truly looking from the neighbor's house? He would have had quite a 
show. Diane shuddered and moaned as Erin licked her. Her breasts quivered, her 
nipples stiffened, and her feet lifted off the ground. This was very hot. I 
couldn't decide if I wanted to take Diane's place, or Erin's. I touched myself 
as I watched.

Diane climaxed and lay sprawled on the lounge, exhausted, her breasts rising and 
falling as she breathed heavily. Her legs were spread in a very immodest manner. 
Erin stood up, all buoyant breasts and curved hips, and I felt this sudden 
strong attraction to her.

She walked toward me, with a warm smile. I saw her thin blonde pubic hair, 
barely there, and wet vaginal lips. I was ready for whatever she wanted to do. 
Suddenly she blinked into Rob, naked and hugely erect. This disturbed me, and I 
turned away, walking toward the kitchen. Diane couldn't help, Wendy wasn't 
there, and Erin was gone. Suddenly Rob was behind me, and with his quick kiss on 
my neck I stopped walking. His penis poked into the small of my back. His hands 
cupped my breasts. My nipples puffed out between his fingers. I still wasn't 
ready for this, right out in the open, I didn't think of him this way, and --

I woke up, back in the car, and for a few confusing moments it seemed like I was 
still in the dream. No, I was definitely in Diane's car, with Erin, Terry and 
Rob; but things had changed while I was asleep.

My hands, which had been holding up the towel, were at my sides. The towel had 
fallen in front; what used to be there now lay in a big snowy heap on my lap. My 
legs, bared to above the knee, now rested on Terry's thighs; and oh my god Rob 
was fondling my bare breasts. Terry had gotten over his shyness and was staring 
openly. Rob was tweaking my nipples, sending electric shivers up and down my 
body, and it was too late to tell him to stop. I no longer wanted him to, 
anyway.

What I wanted to do is make out with him.

I wriggled closer, angling my face to his, and we started kissing wetly, 
open-mouthed, tongues fighting. He kept kneading my breasts, and heat was 
welling up inside me. He let one go and his hand drifted farther down, over my 
belly and nudging under the towel. For one last moment I asked myself, Denise, 
what are you doing?, and then his finger found my vagina and pushed in. I felt a 
slight chill there; Terry had unwrapped the towel around me and now I was 
completely exposed. Terry fondled my legs and bottom as Rob kept doing his 
thing.

At some point Rob returned both hands to my breasts, and Terry moved his finger 
inside me. I looked down at my naked body, with four hands fondling it, and for 
a moment wondered, is this really me doing this? But it felt so good I no longer 
wanted to question anything.

The car slowed and turned in a driveway; we were at Erin's house. It was dark 
already. It was hard not to notice what Rob and I had been doing, and I guess 
Erin watched most of it. "Let's wrap you up again so you can come in," she said. 
"I can't believe that you wouldn't sunbathe nude, but you were OK with this."

We stopped, and I tried to sit up. "I'm sorry, " I said.

"You shouldn't have let them do this," Diane said to Erin. Then to me: "Are you 
all right?"

I had to tell the truth. "I loved it."

I wrapped up in the towel and we went inside. Thankfully no one was home. Erin 
flipped on the lights and walked into a bedroom. "Now, we need a good outfit for 
you," she shouted from a closet. "Ok, here we go."

It was just a gray skirt and light aqua knit top. "That's it?" I asked. What a 
letdown. I thought I was getting something fun to wear. This stuff was just 
blah.

"Put it on," she said. "It'll make more sense when we're done." I turned toward 
the bedroom to change, but she stopped me. "Just do it right here. Nobody's 
seeing anything new." Reluctantly I dropped my towel and stood nude before them. 
The boys obviously appreciated having the show go on. Diane looked a little 
conflicted, like she wanted this to stop but couldn't put her foot down.

Erin gave me the top and I pulled it over. The material was thin and clingy. 
"Um, no, I don't think so," I said. "Kinda cheap looking. No offense."

"Just try it," she said, giving me the skirt. This was some sort of fleece 
fabric, like warmup pants. It came down to a few inches above the knee. she 
hadn't given me any underwear. I shrugged my shoulders. Aside from showcasing my 
breasts, the outfit was very bland and unattractive. I didn't get it. "Wait 
right there," she said.

She came back with a pair of fabric scissors. "This will be a night you won't 
forget," she said. "Hold still." Reaching under the skirt, she felt around to 
where the curve of my bottom started, and then began to cut the skirt. When she 
was done, it was less than half its original length. My jaw dropped. She had cut 
it as close as she could. How could I go to a concert like this?

"Erin," Diane scolded. "You're taking advantage of her."

"And now for the top." At first I couldn't tell what she was doing, making 
several cuts in back, along the sides, and below. But when she was done, the 
knit top was converted to a sleeveless, backless, sideless crop top. My breasts 
were covered in front, but exposed on the sides. There was one thin strip of 
cloth around my neck, and another around my back, just beneath the shoulder 
blades. I looked to Diane for support, but this was Erin's show now. She made a 
few more trims and checked sightlines. "OK, I think we're ready to go!"

In the car, Erin told the boys "Don't touch her," and they left me alone. I felt 
like I was nearly naked. My shyness had come back.

I was petrified as we walked into the arena, as if I were the one going out on 
stage. We pushed our way through crowds, and I felt hands, deliberate or not, at 
my back, against my breasts, even up under the skirt. I got enough catcalls and 
hoots that I was glad I was in a group of friends.

The warmup band was the Ankles. Only Erin had heard of them at the time. Their 
music was more funky and dancey than the Caps' serious groove. They were pretty 
good. When the Caps came on, and started with "Underground", the audience was 
pumped. Everybody stood on their seats, and I could no longer see.

Two tall guys stood in front of me. "Can we switch?" I shouted at Erin over the 
thumping music. "I can't see over these guys!"

She pointed forward, at a wide, short wall in front of the guys' row. In front 
of that was an aisle, and then more seats. "See if you can stand there," she 
said. "Maybe the guys will give you a lift."

I tapped one of the guys on the shoulder, mimed my request, and he understood. 
He deftly grabbed me by the hips and easily lifted me over.

This was great; this was a much better vantage point! I looked back for the 
others, but it was hard to see them between the guys; and they were watching the 
show anyway. When I turned forward again, I tripped and fell backward. Before I 
could fall too far, the guy on the right caught me; but how he caught me was a 
problem. His hands were underneath my skirt, supporting my bare bottom as he 
helped me get my balance. And when I was up and swaying again to the music, he 
kept his hands there.

Somehow, this was OK; it seemed appropriate that during a naughty song by a 
naughty band, a stranger might do a naughty thing. For about two songs, he kept 
fondling me there, supporting my butt as I swayed to the music. I knew I'd have 
to decide what would happen next, but I kept putting that off.

Then he decided for me, moving one hand to the front and fingering my pussy. Oh 
my, I didn't even know him; I didn't really know what he looked like; and I was 
letting him do this to me! Such a good feeling just surged through me.

A couple songs like this and I was sopping wet. I still didn't turn back to face 
him. Then he let go, and I wondered if he had decided he had gone far enough. 
You can only do so much before you risk getting a girl sore, especially one you 
don't know. I danced on my own for a minute or so.

But he wasn't done. With a hand at my lap and another on my back, he guided me 
to lean forward a little bit; then he was inside me for real. He had just needed 
time to unzip his pants. He was huge and rock hard; and while I came a few 
times, he had great staying power, lasting through at least three songs, his big 
hands on my hips. Then he was done and pulled out, and prodded me over to the 
left. In front of his friend.

This guy might have been seeing my breasts from the side for all that time and 
couldn't wait to touch them. He reached in beneath my crop top on both sides and 
took advantage of the easy access Erin had created with her scissors. I wondered 
how far I would go with this, when was I planning to stop? I'd just had sex with 
a stranger, and now it was starting up again! I writhed and swayed, enjoying the 
song.

Oh, there was farther to go. He took off my top and tossed it away; I never saw 
it again. Thousands of people at this concert, and I was topless, nearly naked; 
and I couldn't even go back! If anyone was seeing me (and I knew some had to 
be), there would be no doubt about what was going on. But I was getting high on 
how naughty all this was. I moved sinuously, like an exotic dancer, while he 
moved his hands over my shoulders, sides, and breasts.

Then he turned me around. He seemed an average looking guy, though well built. 
His friend was sorta cute, but not a hunk either. My boobs were apparently the 
best things he had ever seen. I could see it in his face. He fondled them for a 
while, and then drew me closer and started sucking them. That felt sooo good. I 
danced like that for a while, wiggling my butt, my hands on his shoulders for 
support, as he nibbled and licked. Briefly I saw Erin in the row behind, and it 
looked like she was cheering me on. Then I came, and my legs gave way and I 
collapsed in his arms. I gave him a kiss, and then I stood back up.

He unzipped his pants. He was erect, and almost as big as his friend. Even 
though I could have simply lifted my micro-miniskirt, I wanted instead to take 
it off, slowly peeling it down as I danced. My inhibitions were just gone. He 
really appreciated that. When it was off, I threw it away, as far as I could.

He picked me up and gently lowered me on top of him. My nipples scratched 
against his shirt. His breath smelled faintly of beer. Some say that a kiss can 
be even more intimate than the sexual act, and I wanted to share myself 
completely. I embraced him as he supported my bare bottom while thrusting into 
me. I sucked on his lips and forced my tongue inside, tasting him. We were 
getting hotter and hotter and everything was a blur. The last thing I remembered 
was some guy yelling "the video, the video", like the "Underground" video that 
cable TV can't even show anymore, and yes, it must have looked just like that.

I woke up in satin sheets. It was morning. I didn't smell of beer, or smoke, or 
sweat; I must have taken a shower, even though I didn't remember it. Everything 
was clean. I was starting to panic a little: I was still naked, and this wasn't 
my room. Beside the bed was a nightstand and table lamp, neither of which I 
recognized. Where was I?

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Erin said. She lay next to me, also under the 
covers. "You slept like a log."

"Erin, what's going on." I faced away; I didn't want to look at her; didn't want 
to know. This was very strange. Just like the dream last night where I had been 
attracted to her, then she morphed into Rob.

"Don't worry, Denise. You're always worrying." She snuggled close to me, 
spooning with me from behind. She didn't have anything on either. She kissed the 
back of my neck, the most sensitive spot, and I stirred. She kissed me there 
again, and reflexively I nestled closer. "We called your mom" -- she kissed me 
again -- "and said the concert" -- kiss -- "was late" -- kiss -- "and you were 
sleeping over."

"What happened last night? What happened with me and you?"

My arms were sort of folded in front of my chest, and she moved them apart. 
Every time she kissed the back of my neck I was more aroused, and now she was 
fondling my breasts as well.

"Well, you certainly remember going to the concert..." ("uh huh") "... and 
moving in front of those guys..." ("yeah") "... and had sex with them both? I 
guess the outfit I made for you wasn't sexy enough, because they took it off." 
("I remember that...") "So after you were done with them, you just danced naked 
for a while.

"Security had to drape a jacket over you and escort you out. I took you home. We 
missed the end of the concert. You weren't drunk or high, so no charges were 
pressed. They figured you just got out of control."

"Wow," I said. But Erin was making me very horny and I couldn't be counted on to 
say something intelligent.

"So we come back home and we decide we want to go clubbing. This time I got you 
a real dress, a little black one, with a zipper all the way down the back. I 
convinced you to go on the dance floor, and find a girl dancing by herself. 
While dancing with her, you would take off your dress and toss it over. Then, 
while naked, you would keep dancing with her and one by one take off every bit 
of clothing she had."

"That sounds impossible," I said plaintively. I rotated my hips toward her, 
opening my legs slightly, and she took the offer, stroking my pussy lips with a 
fingertip.

"It's not impossible. You did it," Erin said. "You found this dark-skinned girl, 
maybe Brazilian, and you led her away from her group. You were dancing close, 
and then you kissed her, and she responded; then with one hand you were 
unzipping yourself. That last inch you had trouble with, but pretty soon it was 
off. I ran in to grab it before it got trampled on too much." She stopped 
talking for a while, concentrating on kissing my shoulders, fondling one breast 
and moving her middle finger inside me.

She leaned up and kissed me on the lips, and there was a spark: not romantic, 
but electrical. "Ow!" I said.

"Sorry. Must be the sheets." She kissed me a little more, and there was still a 
tingle, but I got used to it. She settled back down beside me.

"She was a little freaked by all this," Erin said, "but then you kissed her 
again, big time, really passionate, and she stayed. She started moving her hands 
over your body, exploring you. After a while, you undid her dress, and she was 
in little black bra and panties. She was OK with that. Then you went for the 
panties. She actually took off her own bra afterward.

"For about five songs you danced with her, both of you naked. Your hands were 
all over each other: shoulders, ass, breasts, between your legs. You were 
basically having sex on the dance floor. It was so hot. Who knows how long you 
could have kept going. She was licking her own juices off your fingers when 
security barged in and broke it up.

"When we got back, Rob was there. You were still naked and you basically jumped 
on him. You guys were fucking on the couch until about 5 am. I sent him home, 
got you into the shower, tucked you in, and let you go to sleep. And here you 
are now."

"This is so weird, but feels so good," I said, responding to her touch. "But 
why..." I couldn't even think of how to finish the question. I couldn't even 
start to form the thought.

"Don't worry," Erin said. "You haven't changed. It's just part of you that has 
been awakened."

Something was awakened, all right: I wanted her bad. I rolled over and tasted 
her lips, her neck, her nipples, and more. Good thing we had the house to 
ourselves; we made some noise.

We stayed in bed like lazy bugs until about 1 pm. I didn't want to leave, but I 
was starving, and it was time to head home. She dressed me in real clothes, took 
me to lunch, and dropped me off. She even had a conversation with Mom about the 
fun but relatively wholesome things we officially did last night. If anyone ever 
asks.

As for Rob and I... we were now a couple. Not just lust, or fooling around, but 
real puppy love with flowers and cards and dates and stuff. So I definitely held 
nothing against Erin for what had happened. It was because of her, and Diane, 
that we got together.