This is a true story, the names were changed to protect the innocent... I've always wanted to say that.
Karen and I were twenty-one, free and white. It was Saturday, we both had some money and the time and we both liked to go bar hopping. I'd met Karen in college, my freshman year. She was funny, smart and pretty and we, at the time, had both had a crush on the same guy. Then we both found out that he was flirting with the other one, dropped him and became close friends.
Anyway, that Saturday night, we had been invited to a party. Karen drove, she'd just bought a new car and liked to drive it, besides, my junk heap was on it's weekly trip to the mechanic's. She'd picked me up at my home where I lived with my parents, pitiful but true. I gave them the usual, don't know when I'll be home, don't wait up, I'll call if I'm staying anywhere tonight. My parents were really cool like that. As long as they knew I was okay, whatever.
Karen had a surprise for me in the car, a very large bottle of Apple Pucker. We cracked it open and started sharing it as we headed down the road. (Notice: drinking and driving is hazardous for your health) By the time we got to the party which was in a small town about a thirty minute drive from my house, we were both feeling good and ready to have some fun.
The party was at a friends, her parents out of town for the weekend. It was in her basement, where she had an excellent stereo system, a pool table and a big screen TV. Everybody was down there laughing and having fun, it was so crowded that we could barely move.
I got tired of dealing with hands that seemed to wander over body parts of mine without permission and located Karen. She was ready to go too so we decided to head downtown to a local hangout. We knew the band, knew the bar and always had a good time there. We had finished off the bottle of pucker and I was feeling no pain.
We walked into the bar, yelled hello back at the bartender, grabbed our usual table by the dance floor. The band was getting ready to start. They came up to us, said hello, flirted a little but half the guys had their wives there that night and we were getting ugly looks from them. The waitress, another friend, brought our usual drinks. I drank Bud Light out of the bottle, couldn't stand it in a glass. It got flat too fast if we were out on the floor for a while.
The band started, they were good, slightly older but with a good sound and a fantastic selection of hits. They started out with an oldie by Billy Idol, one of my favorites and Karen and I were the first on the floor to start dancing. That wasn't unusual either.
I'm an okay dancer, have more fun flirting than anything else, but Karen, she could move. She had moves that made guys eyes pop out of their heads and always had us surrounded by the second set. Tonight was no different and we started making comments about which of the guys we were interested in. And which of those we were going to play with to see who got him.
We spotted two guys, both tall, one a little more muscled and taller than the other. There were both dark haired, but one had hair just a trifle curly and had a wicked look in his eyes. Those were our targets for the night. We decided which one of us would go for which one while still dancing and casting sly and coy looks at the two guys. When we sat down, there were two new beers in front of us. The waitress cocked her head at our two intended victims and grinned, knowing our game and how we played it.
I smiled my thanks at the guys and picked up a bar napkin to pat my face and fan myself a little. The place wasn't big and heated up fast with all the gyrating bodies on the floor. I was already feeling the heat. The next song was a slow song and both Karen and I looked up to see our victims headed our way.
I smiled and looked into the curly haired guys eyes, beautiful blue eyes that had an impish sparkle and a devil may care attitude that just about had me orgasming at the table. He cocked his head at the dance floor, smiled and, I'll never forget this, held out his hand. He helped me to my feet and then swung me out on the dance floor.
The boy had moves, knew when to glide and when to rock. He had me almost giddy before he once more escorted me to my table. Karen and her lucky victim were still on the floor so I invited mine to sit down with me and offered to buy him a drink, kind of a tit for tat thing.
He declined, and leaned towards me. Yelling was imperative, because as I said, the place was small, the speakers huge.
"Chris!" he yelled as he pointed at his chest.
"Danielle!" I shouted right back and held out my hand to shake. Most guys tried to do the charming but somewhat smarmy kiss the knuckles routine, thinking it made them look "debonair" or something like that. Not Chris. He took my hand, held it for a second as a handshake and then put our joined hands on the table. He leaned back across the table, smiling.
"Do you girls come here often?" he shouted, making it sound sarcastic. It was a small town and there actually wasn't much to do.
"It's the hottest spot in town," I shouted back at him, making him grin. It was really the only place in town.
We talked a little while longer, Karen came and sat with hers and I got up to dance with mine. A slow song came on and I stepped into Chris's arms. It amazed me how he could mold me to fit me to him. I could feel his entire body against mine as we dance and I gave into temptation to grind my hips against his, or bump his and pretend it was an accident. I was on my way to becoming very toasted, and when I get toasted, I lose mostly all, okay, I won't lie. I lose my inhibitions. I could have probably been talked into having sex on the dance floor that night and enjoyed everything, even the bouncer kicking our asses out.
Karen had been watching me, she had quit drinking and had switched to water, she was driving after all. The DD wasn't just her bra size. It also stood for Designated Driver. Okay sorry, that was pretty lame.
Okay, back to Karen. She had been watching me for quite some time, seeing the look in my eyes and the way I was leaning into Chris. Dancing with them and maybe a little kissing and stroking were all well and good to her, but she was a virgin and didn't want to lose it to just anyone. And when I, (not a virgin but don't tell my mom) got like this, I got horny.
And I was. And it pissed her off.
She talked me into heading into the bathroom, which anyone knows who drinks beer is the curse of then constantly having to run back to empty your bladder every ten to fifteen minutes after until approximately three o'clock the next afternoon. And then she started yelling.
"What the hell are you doing? You are not going to go to bed with this guy?" Karen was also mildly religious and wouldn't use a word like fuck. (I know, what was I doing hanging out with a virgin holy roller, I'll never know.) "I won't be left out there alone with Ryan while you use my car to have sex in."
I smiled at her and winked. "Okay, we'll use Chris's car then."
That was probably the worst thing I could have said. She left the bathroom and went back into the bar. I washed my hands because "Cleanliness is next to Godliness." Then I followed her out. The band was just hitting a break when I reached our table. Karen was gone and so was her stuff. I looked at both guys and Chris just shrugged.
"She left," Ryan told me. "What did you say to her?"
Well as I said, lose inhibitions, just add alcohol.
"I told her I'd use Chris's car to fuck him in and not hers."
Chris got a huge smile on his face and grabbed my hand as if he was going to drag me out to his car. I resisted and sat down in my seat, picking up the next beer inline for me. There were two fresh ones sitting next to it and also two shots. I picked one up and sniffed it carefully. The smell cut through my sinuses.
"What the hell is this?"
"Tequila," Chris said. "Drink up."
I was still shaking my head when he pushed the shot glass to my lips and pushed back on the bottom, tipping the pungent alcohol down my throat. I sputtered and my eyes watered a little. The next one went down easier. Which was actually a very, very bad thing.
Sometime half way through the fourth set, I was slow dancing with both of them at the same time. Stuck in the middle. We didn't actually so much as dance as we did grind pelvis's. I could feel their cocks, solid rock hard through their jeans and it had me panting.
Please remember, I was a very good girl in high school. Shy and didn't date much. I worked in a pharmacy and turned beet red one night when I had to sell condoms to a guy and I told him to have a nice night. I was sheltered and babied. Spoiled by my mother and father both. Not that I minded but this is the reason for college girl goes wild episodes like this one.
I was also by this time, pretty gone. I remember the night in vast detail, probably because it was a fantasy coming true, probably also due to the fact that between gyrating pelvis's, I had tossed up green beer in the women's bathroom.
They took me outside, and I waved at the bartender, and at the waitress, smiled at the band and went with them willingly.
There is a tiny motel near the expressway, off a ways but very accessible. It's one of those cliché type places that actually do rent rooms by the hour.
Chris drove, I sat between the two of them, straddling the emergency brake. Ryan kept touching me, his hand down the front of my shirt, his fingers inside my bra. Chris had his hand between my thigh, on the premise of changing gears on his manual transmission. I might have been drunk but I wasn't blind. His car was an automatic.
.... There is more of this story ...