Chapter 10: Dirty Dancing

“Wow you have a big room,” Mo looked round. All kinds of girlie scents flooded his senses, presumably emanating from that big dresser with tiny bottles and makeup things all over it. It was all luxurious.

“Well mum and dad both work, you know, and they’re both quite senior I think, so...”

“Your mom and dad seemed pretty cool about you having guys in here,” Paul was looking at the bed. Maybe it was left over from previous owners or something? Otherwise what kind of parents would get their sophomore daughter a double bed? King size even. And the room was down a corridor in this big apartment and nowhere near the living room where her parents were, so her parents’ ‘being in’ wasn’t quite how Mia had billed it.

“Oh they trust me,” Mia followed his gaze, “and they don’t want to be buying a new bed every few years obviously. They say they gave me their genes and brought me up with a good education and values and to think for myself, and so they’re kind of there for me, to go to, but now I have to be myself and start applying what I’ve learned and do my own learning too.

“And I’m not always dressed in here so they don’t come in. I just have to keep the music reasonable,” she grinned. “What shall we have? Muse? There’s a good playlist somewhere.” She fiddled with her phone and a red YouTube screen filled the big TV on the wall. Music began to pulse through the room.

“So come and sit here,” she told them, patting the bed. “Oh, hang on, let me get some beers.” She sprang off, walked off down the corridor, then reappeared with a case of Budweisers. She closed the door, put them on the dresser, opened the case and pulled three cans out, ready. The boys watched mesmerised as she sat facing them on the chair and worked through undoing her laced-up boots, before pulling them off. She wasn’t minding being watched, even though her skirt had ridden up right to the top of her legs.

“Okay, if you want me to take off any more you’ll have to drink,” she grinned at them as she stood up. “What shall we say? A third of a can per item, but you both have to drink it. And take off something yourselves of course.”

“Kidding!” whispered Paul.

“B ... but, but I don’t drink,” gasped Mo, “I’ve said that loads of times.” What was she talking about anyway?

Mia pranced over to him on the balls of her feet. She ran a hand slowly over his right asscheek. “But you’ve had a vodka and orange already, and it didn’t kill you did it? You didn’t go to hell in a puff of smoke.”

She moved over to Paul, held him with an arm round his waist, and kissed him quickly on the cheek, while Mo was trying to catch up:

“What do you mean? Oh! You spiked my drink? Shit!” Mo’s mind reeled with the news, her attitude, and her scent, which were bringing back those selected memories from the clearing.

“Yeah sorry,” Mia grinned. “But why is it forbidden anyway?” She brought Paul the three steps over to Mo and slid an arm round his waist too.

“It’s haram,” Mo explained, leaning away but making no impression on her grip. “You mustn’t take an intoxicant.”

“Yes but why?”

“Well ... it’s haram. Lots of things are haram and we just don’t do them. Alcohol is an abomination of Satan.”

“Hahaha Satan,” Mia laughed. “So you don’t really know.” She eased her grip so she could poke him lightly in the side. “It’s like Grace said: somebody told you, that’s all. Anyway I seem to remember my father saying you can drink wine if it’s necessary?”

“But it’s not wine, and it’s not necessary.”

“But it is necessary, if you want to be naked with me. And, you know, do it properly, liking each other...”

“Naked? Who said I want to be naked? And do what?”

“Oh, go on Mo,” Paul finally lost it. Mia Naked??? “Beer has less alcohol in it than wine. A can or two won’t hurt will it?” Christ what was he saying? Encouraging a guy to go against his beliefs, so a girl would take her clothes off! Followed by WHAT?

But it had all been too much. A day so crazy and emotional, his mind was fried: the thing with falling in love with Grace; her hurtful attack on his faith; the aliens from space - who were girlie and half-naked; Mia in that outfit; the drink; being bullied and humiliated; and now this! He took a can, popped it and took a mouthful.

“Alright, one can,” Mo’s resistance finally crumbled in the face of Paul’s defection, on top of everything else, and the vodka, and Mia, “but that’s absolutely it.” He took the can.

“Okay, first third...” Mia popped her can and took a long swig. She didn’t drink beer normally, but this wasn’t the occasion for a Martini.

Paul looked at her, then at Mo, and swigged some more.

Mo sighed, copied how they’d opened their cans, and copied how they’d drunk the liquid - just as if it were wine after all.

“Shoes,” smiled Mia. “To catch up.”

“Oh.” Paul hastily undid his and pulled them off, while keeping his gaze on Mia: standing there, in just sheer tights, that short miniskirt, and vest tee. Oh and bra, and panties underneath of course.

Mo took his shoes off too, with weird things going on in his head like it wasn’t really him.

“Drink,” Mia set the example again. “Okay now it’s my tights and your socks.”

By the end of the can Paul was shirtless, along with Mo, and Mia was in well-filled purple bra and miniskirt, looking more incredible than ever. Had he ever seen such a perfect waist? It was okay to admire a waist, wasn’t it? And a flat, lean abdomen? Those athlete’s shoulders...

“Okay now let’s dance...” Mia was on her phone again. “Something with a nice strong rhythm ... The Lazys?”

Next thing she’d grabbed Paul’s arms and was making him dance, to heavy rock! Looking wild again, and pulling Mo into dancing as well. “Drink!” she grinned, “if you want my skirt.”

Mo, lost to the moment, and alcohol, passed her a can; then Paul. He opened his own second ever can of beer. He glugged, finding he was dancing, and grinning too.

“Half, this time,” Mia told them, swaying her pelvis erotically, “then it’s skirt and trousers, and when you’ve finished it you can have my bra and panties, in exchange for your briefs.”

Mo’s head was spinning already, but he gulped more beer, dancing almost fluidy, he thought. Paul, next to him, was doing the same, glancing at him and returning the grin. He drank some more. Mia in bra and panties...

Paul had another long swig and wiggled his can. It felt half full. He smiled at Mia and shook it again.

“Okay, you first,” she told him, “then undo it.” She indicated her short skirt, so near the top of her bare, stunningly shaped legs, and below the bare, stunningly shaped waist.

Paul quickly put down his beer, dropped his trousers and stepped out of them. He knelt in front of Mia. So close! Belt ... blue fabric, but it was the same as a normal belt, with a buckle ... he fumbled but got it done. It came apart, but there was no button on the waistband underneath. And no zip!

“It’s on the side,” Mia giggled, twisting to bring it round. She stopped moving while he wrestled with it. Eventually he got the button through the hole, and the zip undone. Now what?

“Trousers Mo...” she broke Mo’s trance, and waited while he mindlessly tugged them off. She nudged Paul to his feet and carried on dancing, but the skirt was too shaped to fall down yet. “C’mon dance guys!” she urged them, writhing vigorously. Paul danced as hard as he could, to encourage the process, and Mo, laughing like he couldn’t remember doing, ever, was joining in.