Chapter 3: Wild Night Out

It was a clear and cool late autumn day, the kind of weather that makes Midwesterners move to Florida. But on this beautiful Friday afternoon, Sherry was planted behind her desk updating a client database. Data entry was not in her job description. Didn't matter; she knew that if didn't do it, it wouldn't get done. The office was relatively quiet, and the letters and numbers began to blur together as she plowed her way through the endless list of contact information. When her phone rang, she jumped as if startled from sleep.

"Harlin and Associates, Sherry speaking," she answered languidly.

"Hey sexy, whatcha wearing? Is the hottie receptionist under your desk again?"

Sherry was suddenly wide awake. She covered the mouthpiece as if hiding a secret. "Shhh, Kyle, you dork! Anybody could pick up this line!"

"Would you really mind if Trish heard me say that?" Kyle replied.

Sherry blushed. "Maybe, maybe not. So, did you just call to ask about my daydreams or what?"

"No, I have a plan. Why don't you sneak out of work early so we can run off?"

"What are we running from and where are we running to?"

"We're running from the conventional humdrum of everyday life and we're running to something exotically different."

"Hmm, sounds mysteriously intriguing, kinda like a bad car commercial. But do I really have to leave early?"

"Where we're going, we need to beat traffic. Is that practical enough for you?"

"Sure is." Sherry glanced at the clock; it was 3:45. "But first I've got to finish one more thing. Meet you at my place around ... oh, 5?"

"That's not very early... ," Kyle complained.

"I know, but these people pay me money, and they'd probably appreciate it if I did some work."

"The fiends! Ok, I guess five o'clock will have to do, but not one minute later, my sweet."

"Alright, Romeo; I've gotta go. Love ya, babe. See you soon."

"Love you too, snookums. Oh, and Sherry?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't forget to find some clothes before leaving the office!" click

"Dork," said Sherry with a smirk as she hung up the phone. Kyle hadn't mentioned that dream since the previous Monday, when she'd told him about it as they made love in her apartment. Over the last few days, they had both been too busy with their respective jobs to get together for more than one intense little quickie. There hadn't been any time at all to delve back into fantasies.

She wondered about his mysterious phone call. The raunchy jokes were unusual for Kyle. If his intent was to get her thinking about that scandalous scene, he'd succeeded. She remembered how real the dream was, how she could almost feel the leather chair sticking to her sweaty bare back as she sat in this very same office, naked with her legs spread wide, doing something very naughty and not caring who saw, actually wanting everyone to see...

A slight flush came to her cheeks and it became even more difficult to concentrate on the long rows of names. She tried to carry on for a while, but when the real Trish sashayed by the office door wearing her usual too-tight Friday jeans, Sherry gave up.

"Aw, screw it," she sighed, shutting down her computer. She stuck her head into her boss's office to make a lame excuse ("He owes me plenty anyway"), then wished Trish a nice weekend on the way out, wondering if the receptionist's ears had been ringing lately.

Even though she was a little early, Sherry figured that Kyle would use his key to her apartment and would be waiting for her, ready to make up for their lack of love-making over the previous few days. She was looking forward to it herself, and her pulse quickened with anticipation as she waited for a red light within sight of her building.

However, the apartment was empty. Instead of a randy boyfriend, she found a note on her inside welcome mat:

You're early! Ran to the ATM – be right back. I picked out some clothes for you for tonight. Also, you'll need an overnight bag. See you soon! XOXO Kyle

Feeling a little disappointed, Sherry headed for the bedroom and found her suggested wardrobe laid out: a slinky black club dress with thin spaghetti straps and a zipper down the front that allowed for various levels of cleavage. She blanched – that dress had almost been too short when she'd bought it, and after wearing it only once, it had shrunk in the wash. She hadn't pulled it out of the closet since then and never intended to do so.

Kyle knew all of this – he was the one who had missed the 'dry clean only' label when doing the laundry – but there it was waiting for her on the bed. "Curioser and curioser..." she mumbled. She picked up the outfit and another note fluttered to the floor:

C'mon, it'll be fun. :) XXX Kyle

"I wouldn't wanna spoil the fun." Sherry quickly slipped out of her conservative business attire (customer reps don't get casual Fridays), slipped into the skimpy dress, and checked out the results in a full-length mirror.

"Oh, my..." Sherry mumbled when she saw much more of her skin than she usually saw with her clothes on. She had bought the dress because she always liked the way her neck curved down to her shoulders and thought that the thin straps would accent her self-described "best feature" nicely. The built-in bustier also showed off her cleavage to great effect.

However, the dress was much shorter and more snug than it had been before the laundry incident, and the amount of upper boobage on display was troubling. Sherry turned around and noticed with alarm that the hem only hung about halfway down her thighs, seemingly just inches below her butt. Fun or no fun, she had serious doubts about leaving the apartment with her backside almost hanging out. Besides, the first real fall weather had blown in and it would be a bit cool to have so much skin showing.

She was about to browse through the closet for other options when she heard a key turn in the front lock.

"Honey, I'm home!" called Kyle down the hall. His smiling face soon appeared in the bedroom door, and his eyes widened when he saw Sherry in the little black dress. "Yazza!" he said, "I've gotta sit down!" He plopped on the comfy chair in the corner and admired her some more.

Sherry noticed that he was wearing his tight jeans and a partially-buttoned tropical camp shirt over a white tank undershirt. He was underdressed compared to her, but she found him almost irresistible in each of those 3 pieces of clothing, more so all at once. She suspected he knew this.

Giving in, she playfully strutted over and sat on his lap. "So, sugar, where's my sexy hunk of a man going to whisk little ol' me away to?" she cooed coyly, kissing his forehead and running her finger in little circles on the smooth skin above the neckline of his undershirt. Ever since they'd seen Gone with the Wind at a film festival a few weeks before, they often slipped into caricatures of Scarlett and Rhett when playing mischievously naughty.

"Well, Scarlett, I wanted to take you down by the magnolia tree and see what's under your petticoat. But seeing as I can't seem to find a magnolia tree in these parts, I reckon I'll take you down to the seashore and try it there."

"Well fiddle-ee-dee, Rhett Butler, I'll have you know that I don't even own a petticoat. But if you help me get my things together, I'll show you what I do have." Sherry got up and began throwing stuff into a small suitcase. Kyle grinned and watched until Sherry hit him squarely on the nose with pair of socks, after which he got up to help.

"Should I complete the look with these?" she asked, holding up a pair of black heels with straps that curved up past her ankles. Kyle didn't answer in words, just nodded vigorously, his mouth flopping comically open.

Her boyfriend's playfulness had distracted Sherry from the fact that her outfit was only semi-decent. She remembered when she stepped outside and the cool air chilled her bare legs. Kyle chivalrously opened the passenger door of his car and she paused, still considering if she should change clothes. But Kyle was so cheerful that she didn't want to spoil the evening and she hopped in, telling herself that it was all in good fun.

Pretty soon, Kyle had navigated through thick traffic in town and they were zipping along the relatively lightly-traveled coastal highway. They hadn't spoken for a while, but the vibe was comfortable – happy and expectant. Sherry relaxed, listening to the radio and watching the sun set over the sparkling water.

"Can I inquire to which beach we're headed?" she asked eventually.

"You can inquire, but I'm not gonna tell. All you need to know is that we're going to have a nice dinner and then abscond ourselves to a romantic hideaway by the sea. But first, I thought we'd stop somewhere along the way..." His eyebrows rose dramatically in sync with the last statement.

"And where would that be?" She was a little hungry and looking forward to a good meal, perhaps seafood. He only responded with a secretive smile and another eyebrow jump.

Between the outfit he'd chosen and their out-of-the-way driving route, Sherry wondered what Kyle was up to. She loved his sense of humor, but he was usually intelligently silly, not cheeky, like his blatantly suggestive phone call earlier. She trusted him, tho, and her excitement and anticipation built with each mysterious mile.

Before long, Kyle eased off the accelerator as they approached a ramshackle two-story tiki bar sitting all alone on a barren strip of sand and asphalt between the road and the water. Goosebumps rose on Sherry's skin when she saw the sign out front: "Beach Bunnies: Florida's Finest Exotic Dancers". Kyle pulled off the highway and into a parking spot well away from the entrance, keeping the engine running.

"So ... do you want to go?" he asked, serious for the first time all day. "The crowd won't get here for a while and I thought it'd be fun ... you know, since you had that dream and all..." She was shocked into speechlessness, and in the awkward silence, his face grew concerned, worried that he may have made a big mistake.

"It's not some trashy dump, is it?" Sherry finally asked, eyes nervously darting around the mostly-empty parking lot, lines of traffic zooming by.

"No, no; it's nothing like that. It's pretty clean and respectable. And ladies get in free today, so I thought ... but if you don't want to go in, we could just go straight to dinner, I won't mind..."

"No, it's alright," Sherry said, putting her hand on his arm. "Like you said; there's hardly anybody here right now, and if it's free, it's for me, right? But don't tell my mommy, ok?"

Kyle's troubled expression relaxed into a familiar grin. "Ok, but you can't tell mine, either. Deal?"

"Deal!" They shook hands like a couple of kids. Only then did Kyle finally shut off the engine.

With the tension relieved a bit, Sherry couldn't help blurting out a question. "So, how do you know so much about this place, anyway?" she inquired with a wry crinkle of a smile.

Kyle blushed. "Well, my friends dragged me out here on my 18th birthday. Then I, um, came back the next day, too. But I haven't been back since, honest."

"Uh-huh," she teased skeptically, though she knew he was telling the truth.

As they crunched across the shell and gravel parking lot, a gust of wind came whipping across the narrow causeway and rose goosebumps on her mostly-exposed legs, again reminding Sherry just how little she was wearing. "But I'm probably overdressed for this place," she thought hopefully. Kyle held open the heavily-tinted door, and Sherry braced herself for anything before plunging in.

Instead of the sudden assault of naked female flesh she'd expected, Sherry found herself in a small alcove containing only a balding fat guy reading a book behind a cash register. A floor-length blue curtain blocked an opening to the left, and muffled dance music came from that direction, making the air throb.

"Eight bucks," requested the man mechanically, and Kyle handed over the money. "Enjoy yourselves." He went back to reading, ignoring his customers' hesitation in front of the curtain.

"Here goes nothing," Sherry mumbled, and she took her boyfriend's hand as he led the way through. Low-intensity lighting, high-volume music, and her own nervousness blurred her senses as Kyle quickly scrutinized the smallish club and hustled over to a booth along the far wall. Only after sitting down did Sherry finally take it all in, eyes wide open and darting timidly.

On the brightly-lit runway-style stage, Sherry saw her first live nude girl: a skanky bleach blond with smallish breasts and a cropped triangle of dark pubic hair who was swaying lazily to the throbbing music wearing only a garter belt, high heels, and an expression of pure boredom. A few men sat along the edge of the stage, gawking and waving money. In the darker recesses of the room, a half-dozen or so other strippers in various stages of undress milled about with shadowy figures sitting at other tables and booths.

As they both looked around in silence, Sherry realized that Kyle was just as nervous as she was. He gave her a thin smile, but his wisecracking had stopped. Their "now what?" feeling continued until they were approached by a delicately beautiful Asian girl approached wearing what looked like a traditional red neck-to-ankle Chinese dress. It was formfitting to accentuate her petite body, and the shiny scarlet material made a nice contrast with her pale skin, but Sherry thought it was an incredibly modest outfit for a Beach Bunnies employee.

"Would you guys like something to drink?" she asked.

"Um, I'll have a beer, whatever's on tap," stammered Kyle.

"Brandy, please," said Sherry. When the waitress turned to leave, she revealed to Sherry's surprise that her dress wasn't so modest after all. Satin covered the top of her shoulders and flowed into short sleeves, but otherwise the dress had no back half, and nothing blocked the view of her backside from shoulder blades to feet except for a thin red ribbon at her waist. Her bare ass swayed seductively as she walked away.

"They must not pay too well," said Kyle.

"What?..." asked Sherry, realizing she had been straining her eyes to follow the waitress in the dimness.

"I said they must not pay well, their employees not being able to afford complete pieces of clothing and all."

"Ha, ha," replied Sherry with a smirk. She knew Kyle was trying to relax her (and himself) with his typically dry humor, and it did make her feel more at ease.

The waitress soon returned with two small glasses and a ridiculously high tab. As Kyle handed her the cash, Sherry couldn't help staring at the border of her red satin half-dress and her creamy skin. It moved so little that it seemed taped down her side at least her hips, and despite Sherry's ardent wishes, it never revealed another inch of skin. Paid off, the waitress slinked her naked ass to another table, Sherry again following with her eyes for as long as that dainty backside was in sight.

Sherry sipped her drink, enjoying the warm sensation down her throat. Neither she nor Kyle drank much, but this was a special occasion. She felt a little more settled in and finally turned her full attention to the stage show.

The skanky blond was still half-heartedly "performing" under the lights. She wiggled her way over to a heavy middle-aged man, who slipped the folded bill he'd been waving into her garter belt, and she showed her appreciation by crouching down and gyrating her spread-wide crotch right in front of his face.

Sherry felt herself blush at the sight and quickly gulped down the rest of her drink. She thought about going up there with some cash in exchange for her own close-up look, but didn't dare get any nearer to the creepy-looking men surrounding the stage.

The song finished, the blond left to scattered applause, and a skinny brunette wearing a black g-string and a black feather boa stepped up to the stage with a blast of Motley Crüe's "Girls Girls Girls". She wiggled her hips to the 80s hair metal while coyly covering her little boobs with the boa before finally dropping her shy act and boldly shaking her bare chest, drawing a few whistles even though there wasn't much to jiggle.

While Sherry found the dancer's moves quite sexy, she was looking for a little more of something. "Do any of the girls here have more than mosquito bites?" she asked impulsively.

Kyle pried his eyes from stage. "What?" he asked, as if not believing what he'd heard.

Sherry pushed ahead. "These strippers have boobs the size of mosquito bites. Are they all like that here?" She'd never used that breast-size vocabulary aloud before. The brandy couldn't be working that quickly, could it?

Kyle cleared his throat, a wry smile on his face. "A-hem. Well, I think there's another room upstairs that we could check out. Wanna go?"

Sherry nodded and followed Kyle to a spiral staircase against the side wall. Along the way, she noticed a couple of strippers writhing on the laps of men in the shadows away from the stage lights. She was astonished at first, but then realized what was going on. "So that's a lap dance," she thought, wondering what it would feel like to be either participant.

They emerged into a roof-top deck area topped with classic "tiki bar" palm fronds. Three of the walls were made of (fake?) bamboo, enhancing the Gilligan's Island vibe. The forth wall was screened-in and faced the dark waters of the bay, letting in some cool air and possibly putting on a show for boaters with spyglasses. However, there wasn't much to see when Kyle and Sherry arrived, as the only other people up there were a female bartender and two strippers chatting at the small square-shaped bar in the center of the room.

"Pretty quiet," Kyle remarked as they settled together on a padded bench along a side wall. "Well, except for those," he added, pointing up at the tinny speakers playing the hair metal stage music from downstairs.

"Let's stay for a minute," replied Sherry, trying to check out the dancers leaning against the bar without being too obvious about it. Then, trying to make conversation, she wondered aloud why the screened-in wall wasn't on the other side so that it would face the sunset.

"Um, that would also face the road," Kyle replied. "Naked 'Beach Bunnies' in the window would probably lead to an increase in traffic accidents. Safety first, you know."

Sherry chuckled in agreement. By that time, her attention had been captured by one of the strippers at the bar. She was well-toned and well-tanned with jet-black hair, and was wearing a red mesh cut-off football jersey (number 69, of course), brazilian-cut white bikini bottoms, and white sneakers. The other stripper, a willowy creamy-skinned redhead, looked like she was wearing a trailer-trash Halloween costume: tattered denim Daisy Duke short-shorts with a raggedy calico-print blouse tied high up on her slender torso.

The bartender noticed Sherry staring and indicated this to the brunette with a nod of her head. The stripper turned and slid off the barstool, smiling seductively as she slinked over. Sherry's heart leapt like a lonely girl at the prom receiving unexpected attention from the star quarterback.

"Hi, there," the brunette cooed as she approached. "I'm Roxanne. Do you wanna dance?"

Sherry found herself tongue-tied at the sight of Roxanne's dark nipples barely obscured by her thin mesh jersey. "Umm..."

Kyle jumped in to answer. "Sure, go for it, babe. I've got you covered."

"Whatta ya say, 'babe'?" Roxanne teased. "I see you staring at these," she said, shaking her torso to jiggle the ample body parts that had drawn Sherry's attention. No mosquito bites here.

"Want some?" Roxanne zipped her top over her head and leaned forward with her hand on Sherry's shoulder so that her enticingly full breasts hung right in front of Sherry's face. Roxanne's touch felt electric, and Sherry could only nod.

"Ok, 'babe'," said Roxanne with a wry smirk. "I'll be gentle."

Roxanne dropped her top to the floor and settled on Sherry's lap. Facing her customer, she put her hands on Sherry's shoulders and began to slide herself up and down Sherry's thighs. Sherry clenched her leg muscles to give the stripper something firm to press against, Roxanne's knees riding up the hem of Sherry's short dress.

Though her temperature was rising, Sherry sat nervous and stiff with her hands bracing herself on the bench. Kyle had relocated to a chair a few feet away, presumably to give his girlfriend some privacy during her first lapdance. He was talking to the trailer-trash redhead, but Sherry couldn't hear what they were saying over the music. It seemed to Sherry that the pale girl was either a real country girl or played the part well, and she coyly played with the end of the knot tying her top together as she spoke to her potential customer.

Roxanne noticed that Sherry was distracted, and responded by shifting over so that she was no longer sitting across Sherry's lap but straddled Sherry's right thigh, her right knee wedging its way between Sherry's clenched thighs and under her dress. She leaned forward, laying her breast on Sherry's collarbone and her face by Sherry's ear. "Ever eaten hot pussy?" Roxanne whispered breathily.

"No..."

"You should; it's fucking great." Without warning, Roxanne threw her upper body back and lunged her hips forward, pushing her knee further under Sherry's short dress and bumping the front of Sherry's panties. Sherry gasped, her crotch instantly soaked.

Roxanne did it again, this time a little more dramatically, arching her torso farther back, pushing her large breasts spectacularly towards the ceiling. Sherry stared longingly at Roxanne's sexy curvy body. When the stripper's knee again banged on the door of her panties, Sherry impulsively reached up and squeezed Roxanne's bare boob. She'd guessed it was artificially enhanced, but it felt soft and warm and lusciously natural. Roxanne smiled. "Go ahead, babe; feel me up." Sherry tentatively rolled Roxanne's nipple between her index and middle fingers and felt it harden a bit in response.

"Hold on," said Roxanne abruptly and got up. Sherry thought she had broken some touching rule and that her session was over, but her heart leapt again when Roxanne zipped off her bikini bottoms, getting totally naked. "You ready for more?" asked Roxanne as she wrapped her panties around her well-toned bicep. Sherry nodded as her eyes flew to the stripper's smoothly shaved slit. It was the first time she'd ever seen another girl's sex close up in person, and Roxanne did a little arms-raised hip-wiggle to show it off some more.

Sherry thought Roxanne was sexy as hell, but not too sexy to keep her from noticing that Kyle had started his own session with the redhead just a few feet away. The girl was sitting on his lap "dancing" – holding her arms over her head while rubbing her skinny denim-covered ass against his crotch, her teeny top riding up far enough that the very bottom of her little boobs were showing. In her excited state, Sherry found that she was more aroused than jealous watching the slender girl writhe against her boyfriend.

Roxanne turned to see what had snatched Sherry's gaze from herself. "You want to give him a show?" she asked, turning back. Without even thinking, Sherry nodded again. The stripper grinned in response, then bent over to give Sherry a great view from behind; well-rounded ass in her face, full labia squeezing out between tan thighs below.

The similarity to that brief but magical peek at her friend Jen's private parts was enough to make Sherry catch her breath. As Roxanne slowly and theatrically straightened up, Sherry impulsively yanked her own panties down to her knees and lifted the hem of her dress in one quick motion. When Roxanne sat back down on Sherry's lap, facing away this time, she came to rest on Sherry's bare leg and neatly trimmed pubic hair.

"You're a real wildcat," cooed the stripper with a surprised smile and leaned her nude body back against Sherry. She began to hunch her ass against Sherry's upper thigh like the redhead was doing with Kyle, except in this case skin was touching skin. Roxanne guided Sherry's hands up to cup her bare breasts, and Sherry squeezed them tenderly.

Realizing what she was doing in public, Sherry peeked around cautiously. There was still nobody else in the room besides the bartender, who was nonplussed – she must see this stuff all the time, Sherry reasoned. Still, she might not have stopped even if somebody had arrived, as she was feeling the stirrings of that same desperate desire to be watched that had dominated her office dream.

At the same time, she was doing some watching of her own, catching her breath in her throat when the redhead "servicing" Kyle untied her blouse and dropped it to the floor. The creamy stripper kept wiggling on his lap, her teeny freckled A-cups jiggling around as much as they could. Then Kyle finally realized that Sherry had discovered that he was also getting a lapdance, and a big goofy and guilty grin split his reddening face. He nodded to her in shy acknowledgement, his eyes flitting between his girlfriend's face and the naked stripper rubbing her bare ass on her upper thighs.

Sherry's exhibitionist urge got another boost as her boyfriend checked out both her and the stripper who was riding on her lap. He wasn't ignoring her naughtiness like the coworkers in her office dream; he was definitely enjoying the show. And, to her surprise, Sherry found that she was also enjoying the performance that he and his new playmate were putting on for her.

The redhead got up momentarily to unbutton her shorts and pull them down to her knees. As Sherry expected, she wasn't wearing anything underneath, and a tuft of ginger fuzz was visible above the union of her squeezed-together thighs, marking her as a natural redhead. She sat back on Kyle's lap and continued her grinding while he closed his eyes and enjoyed her "work'.

That gave Sherry a brief tinge of jealousy but also gave her an idea. She held her knees close together so that her panties became loose enough to slide down her legs. Kyle's eyes were still closed, but the redhead noticed and began to smile. Sherry tingled with anticipation, waiting for her boyfriend to look her way and realize that she had upped the ante in their respective entertainers' competing performances by joining in on the stripping herself.

Kyle finally opened his eyes, and they grew wide at the sight of his girlfriend's panties almost on the floor around her ankles. They almost popped out of their sockets when she worked her undies over her heels and flip them under the bench. He shook his head in mock reproach and whispered something in the redhead's ear. She nodded and stood up, and Kyle scooted his chair to face Sherry directly while his "partner" flipped off her jean shorts, leaving herself completely nude like Roxanne.

The redhead sat back on Kyle's lap and nonchalantly spread her legs wide apart while facing Sherry; dropping a hand between them to coyly cover her cunny for a second before slowly lifting it to expose her pink bits surrounded by a thin shock of curly orange hair, tracing a single finger up her slit, past her belly button ring, between her little mounds, and to her waiting mouth. Then she seductively licked her fingers, defiantly giving the eye to her client's girlfriend while resuming humping her bare ass on his lap.

Roxanne had been watching this interplay while slowly grinding against on Sherry's crotch, and she took her co-worker's actions as a challenge. She locked her shins behind Sherry's calves and guided Sherry's hands to her knees, silently suggesting another uptick in their game. Sherry got the hint, spreading their intertwined legs until their thighs were both wide open and their stacked pussies faced Kyle, who looked shocked and delighted at the continuing naughtiness contest.

The redhead responded again, reaching down to caress the obvious bulge in Kyle's jeans jutting up between her thighs. Sherry guessed that what happened next must've broken some decency law, because the stripper didn't stop with a little groping. She slid her slender body forward and held the point of Kyle's tent against the apex of her spread-wide labia, grinding her obviously aroused little clit against his hardness, his button-fly serving as the only obstacle to public penetration. For a brief instant, Sherry wished that the redhead would just go ahead and rip open her boyfriend's jeans so that he could jam his cock deep into her fiery cunt for all to see.

That mental image pushed her over the edge. Beads of sweat ran down Sherry's brow despite the cool night air. Her pulse pounded in her head. "I'm gonna come," she whispered in Roxanne's ear, and Roxanne responded by grinding her ass up and down the length of Sherry's wet slit. Then Sherry felt the touch of another woman's fingers on her most private area for the first time as the stripper reached down between their tangled thighs and tickled Sherry's hyper-sensitive clit.

Sherry noticed Kyle's eyes lock on to the sight of her cunny getting massaged and it was all over. "Oh, yesss," hissed Sherry, trying not to cry out too loudly when a powerful orgasm washed over her. As Sherry still convulsed in ecstasy, Roxanne shifted, locking her crotch on Sherry's leg and forcefully rubbing her pussy against Sherry's clenched thigh muscles. Sherry was shocked by her first direct contact with the dancer's now-slippery slit and came again immediately, now groaning loudly despite herself. Within seconds, Roxanne cried out "Oh, fuck!", and Sherry felt a sudden hot dampness spread over her upper thigh.