The Spring Dance Patsy

Literotic asexstories – The Spring Dance Patsy by intim8,intim8
NOTE: Everyone in this story is over 18 years of age.

*

“That sounds really mean,” Stacy said.

“I know, but he’ll survive,” Connie replied, watching Penny get into Mick O’Malley’s Camaro.

She didn’t have much sympathy for Peter Corvalis. He’s just a geek.

His humiliation was the last thing standing in the way of her and Stacy getting on Penny’s good side. And if we’re on Penny’s good side, she thought, we’ll be on the good side of the rest of the popular crowd. Half of whom they would have to deal with next year when they all started college at the same State school. It might be the only way to get into a good sorority.

She knew it was cruel, but she wasn’t going to let any soft feelings stop her. She never had, and she wasn’t going to start now.

“It’s not that bad, Stace. Besides, it’s him or us, right? He’ll get over it. Hell, he’s probably used to it.”

She didn’t care either way. A few more months, and she wouldn’t have to worry about any of them anymore. Except the ones that were going to State along with her.

Stacy looked dubious, but she shrugged, the kind of shrug that Connie knew meant that she would at least go along with it. Once they started making their plans, she’d probably get into it.

===

“Should I take my bra off?” Connie asked. They were waiting under a mature oak at the edge of a farmer’s field just outside the chain link fence that marked the edge of the school property.

“We’re trying to tease him, not flash him,” Stacy said.

“I know. But, you know, it’s a little more tease-ey, right?”

“I guess. I’m not taking mine off.”

Connie smiled. Yeah, that would be way beyond teasing. Stacy had much bigger tits than Connie did. And a much thinner shirt today. For Connie, the difference between bra and braless would hardly be noticeable under her cotton blouse. Unless her nips started poking out.

She wondered if she should try to make that happen,

“There he is,” Stacy announced. “Now or never.” Connie made a snap decision. With a quick look into the school parking lot to make sure nobody was watching, she reached under her blouse and did that magic act that ended with her pulling the bra out through one loose sleeve.

All in the time it took Peter to get halfway across the parking lot to the narrow gap in the fence that he used to short-cut his walk home every day.

The informal spring dance was tomorrow, Saturday, the second of April. With luck, Peter would be all dressed up, standing outside the doors waiting for two girls who would never show. Maybe he’d even have flowers, that would be a nice touch. Everyone would laugh at him. Especially Penny.

Yeah, it was mean. But you can’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs, right? She soothed what little conscience she had by reminding herself that he would only have a couple more months to deal with everyone sniggering and pointing when they saw him in the hallway.

The tree they were under spread a wide canopy and thick roots that kept the winter wheat at bay for yards around it. But there were other, smaller trees and shrubs against the fence that amounted to an impartial screen against views from the direction of the school. The shoulder high wheat crop did the same from all the other directions.

“Hey Peter!” Connie yelled, her voice full of fake enthusiasm.

The tall, lanky boy broke his stride to look over at them. They took a few steps away from the tree toward him, their most endearing smiles on their faces. Connie hoped he didn’t feel ambushed, though they were in fact ambushing him.

He stopped and turned toward them with a look around, as if he was worried about being caught at something. As if he felt guilty about talking to a girl.

He had to be at least 6 foot 4, Connie thought, and barely over 150 lbs. He wore black Levis that stretched over his bony hips without the least hint of a bulge. A black shirt emblazoned with a heavy metal band from the 70s or something hung loose over his hollow chest.

The geek picture was made complete by a hook nose surrounded by little craters that spoke of untreated acne in his recent past, and a bag hanging from his thin arm that they knew contained a laptop computer.

Connie would have felt sorry for him if she had the least bit of empathy in her. Aside from a certain look in his eye, Connie found him entirely unattractive. And worse, unpopular. It made what she and Stacy were about to put him through more delicious.

One look at him and one look at them would tell anyone watching that he was going to be putty in their hands.

Stacy was a girl with ample curves all up and down her frame without looking fat. Just well-built. Connie was the small one, the kind that might be a cheerleader, or the kind that could look mousy if she had been a loser geek like Peter.

She was neither, for a variety of reasons. She knew she was far from the hottest girl in school, but even further from being the ugliest. And to a guy like Peter, just being willing to talk to him outside of school would make him think she was the hottest thing on two legs.

He stood frozen, staring at them, not ogling them, but not entirely focusing on their eyes as they approached. “So, you live in Wheatlands?” she asked, a lame attempt to break the ice.

Wheatlands was the subdivision on the other side of this field, named after the similar fields that had been razed and dug up to build the houses and streets. It wasn’t a slum, but it was pretty downscale for their suburban school district.

“Uhh, yeah. I’m headed home.”

He stood turned partially turned toward them, partially toward the path through the wheat, his posture saying he expected to be on his way any minute.

Wow, this guy’s really got game, Connie thought sarcastically. This was going to be easy, but she couldn’t rush it.

“You don’t have a girlfriend?” Stacy asked. Connie winced. Sure enough, Peter stiffened. It was obviously and predictably a sensitive subject with him, and worse, it gave him a whiff of the nature of their approach. She would have to teach Stacy a little finesse for next time.

He didn’t reply, just stared at them with a hard look. A hard guy to make small talk with.

She tried to recover, but with the subject broached, she thought it best to just ease right into the main point. “We were just talking about the dance tomorrow.”

“Out here?”

“Umm, yeah, well, we didn’t want to be overheard.”

“We were talking about who we might like to go with,” Stacy added.

“You must have plenty of choices,” Peter said in a sour tone, turning his body toward the path.

“Wait,” Connie said. He paused, but didn’t turn toward them. “We… well, there’s nobody we really want to go with.”

“OK?”

“We were trying to decide if we should just go, by ourselves.”

“OK?”

Jeez. Peter wasn’t giving her a single break.

“And then you just happened by.” She sidled up closer to him.

He looked down at her, she was close enough – in his space – that he had to look down. He could surely smell the perfume she wore.

He looked over at Stacy, two steps behind, then back at Connie. “What’s this got to do with me?”

Connie took a deep breath, and took the plunge. She put her hand on Peter’s upper arm and let her breast lightly brush his elbow, though she had to lean in too close in order to make contact. “Maybe you’d want to go with us?”

He looked down at her, at her chest a hair’s width from his elbow. His face turned a light red and he stammered, “What?” He looked over at Stacy, and Connie used the opportunity to surreptitiously undo the top button of her shirt.

Peter seemed to regain his composure, and backed away from Connie just enough so there was no more risk of contacting her chest. She let go of his arm.

“You’re not serious.” He said it as a statement, not a question, and both his face and voice were hard again. He was looking straight at her, so she didn’t dare take a glance to see if that was all that was getting hard.

“Why not?” Connie asked, trying to look innocent. She looked over at Stacy. Stacy would be much better at this part. For one, letting her tits accidentally brush his arm would be a lot more believable. Hell, it would be unavoidable if she was standing half as close to him as Connie was.

Peter looked at her like she was an idiot. “You know why.”

Connie looked at her friend. “Stace, what do you think?”

“I think it might be an idea.”

Connie smiled up at him, still standing close. Peter looked down and she saw his eyes dart. He must have noticed the one button undone.

“So that is what you two were talking about over there? This feels like a practical joke.”

“It’s not, Peter. Why would you think that?”

“Listen,” he said, glancing down again at her chest. He could probably see down her shirt a little. He licked his lips. “Look, I know that you’re not dying to go to the dance with me.”

Stacy approached him from the opposite side. She took his arm as Connie had before, Her boob definitely bumped him. “The more I think about it, the more I like it,” she said. Putting on a sappy smile. He would have to see through that. Why not bat your eyelashes while you’re at it, she silently reprimanded her friend.

She saw him look down, and saw his head freeze in position for a beat. Stacy’s tit was still against his arm.

“Why would you want to go with me?” He asked Stacy.

“Well, for one, you’re not as bad looking as you seem to think you are. I like tall guys.”

Peter shook his head. Connie jumped in. “OK, let’s be honest here. You’re not the hottest guy in school. But you’re not bad looking.”

“And you have a certain quality about you, I don’t know what…” Stacy said.

Connie detected a slight softening of his rigid posture. Did they find the crack in his armor? He had a girl on each arm now, and his head whipsawed between them. While he was looking Stacy’s way, Connie undid one more button. It was getting a bit risky now, but she felt like they were on their way to sealing the deal.

Connie started to say something, but Stacy jumped in ahead of her. “Besides, guys like you…”

Peter cut her off. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Stacy smiled. Connie took the opportunity to step back closer to him, to touch his arm again and let her chest brush against him.

“I mean smart guys, guys who know computers. You’re going to be rich one day, aren’t you?”

Peter shrugged. “I hope so. But so what? You planning on marrying me?”

Stacy laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I just mean that a girl would do well to broaden her horizons a little, right? You know, look beyond the usual jocks and movie stars.”

“To the dorks and geeks right? But it’s not like I have any money now. I don’t even have a car.”

Connie saw her opportunity. Stacy had laid some groundwork. She meant to build on it.

“We’re not after money,” she said. She turned enough so that he would get a better view down her shirt. He noticed. “It’s just that, guys that maybe would have been ignored before, a girl starts to think twice about that.”

“You mean ugly guys.” His voice sounded bitter.

“No,” Stacy insisted. “Guys who don’t have… I don’t know, the typical looks that a lot of guys have. The generic guys.” Stacy moved her hand to his chest, lightly, as if it was just a careless gesture, but Peter noticed it and stiffened. A different kind of stiff this time, a hesitant, apprehensive stiffness.

Connie finished Stacy’s thought after sharing a look with her that said they were really gelling now. “Guys that when you look a little deeper, have more going for them than you think at first.”

His mouth worked and his eyes looked uncertain, but then his look got hard again and he moved half a step back, breaking contact with both of them. “I don’t believe you,” he said, shaking his head.

“Aw, c’mon, Peter. It’ll be fun. Won’t it, Connie?” Stacy gave her a meaningful look. ‘Just go with this,’ it said.

Connie put on what she hoped was a sexy smile, though the thought of “fun” with him threatened to turn her stomach. “Yeah, maybe,” she said.

“What… what do you mean?”

Stacy stepped toward him, facing him directly now, right in his space. He looked like a deer in the headlights. “You know…”

“I don’t dance,” he said, missing her implication, or dismissing it.

“Look, you don’t have to actually dance. We don’t really know how to dance either. For the slow dances, all you really have to do is kind of rock back and forth a little.”

“I don’t know,” he said.

Gotchya! Connie thought. He’d finally come off his hard ‘no’ stance.

“Show him, Conn,” Stacy suggested.

“Show him what?” Connie didn’t want to understand.

“How simple slow dancing is. How it’s not really dancing.”

Connie’s jaw worked. Was Stacy actually suggesting that they slow dance? Right here in the farmer’s field, in full view of the school? She looked back at the parking lot, It was all but empty, and all the buses were long gone.

“Sure,” Stacy said, her eyes urging Connie to go along with it. She backed away, leaving room for Connie to stand in front of him.

Peter licked his lips nervously and looked around like he was expecting someone to jump out of the wheat field and tell him it was all a joke.

“We could go over there,” Stacy said, pointing to the tree where they’d been standing earlier, before they’d backed him several steps down the path toward home. It was a much less exposed spot. At least, it would feel like it was.

Peter didn’t react, so Stacy took his hand and pulled him in that direction. He went, almost willingly.

OK, Connie, just do one pretend slow dance. You can get through this. They stood face to face. She put her hand on his shoulder. He stood rock still, not moving, his eyes darting from Connie to Stacy to the parking lot, and back to Connie’s chest.

Neither of them moved until Stacy reached in and took one of his hands, putting it on Connie’s waist. Then the other on her shoulder. Connie moved her own hand to his waist, and they stood like that, rock still, hands on waist and shoulder.

Stacy pulled out her phone and pulled up a slow song. Connie couldn’t help swaying with the music. “See, this is all we have to do,” she said. She looked down at his feet, then up at his face, encouraging him to at least move.

He finally did, just shuffling his feet an inch or two one way, then the other. Connie started to enjoy it. Until Stacy moved behind her. “You’re supposed to be closer together,” she said, and gave Connie a hard shove.

Before she realized it, she was pressed against Peter. The hand on his waist got pushed behind him, and his had too, as it was now on the small of her back. He stopped shuffling his feet, frozen.

Her chest was pressed against his, and she could feel her tits squashed between them. Their hips were pressed together too, and… and… “Oh!” she yelped, stepping quickly back. She looked down before she could stop herself, and sure enough, those black jeans showed something more than they had a minute ago.

She looked at his face, and he was blushing deep red. She looked at Stacy. She had her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide, staring right at Peter’s boner. “Oh god!” she said.

“I’m… sorry,” Peter croaked out, pulling his hips back in a futile effort to withdraw the bulge in his tight jeans. He looked like he wanted to run, to just take off without even picking up his laptop bag.

“Peter,” Stacy said in a commanding voice. “It’s OK.”

Connie might have disagreed with that, but she wasn’t going to say anything. Their social futures hung in the balance, and if this scared him off, they’d be doomed to hang with the losers for their entire college career. They might as well actually go out with Peter if that was the case. She shuddered at the thought.

But he didn’t leave. Stacy’s tone had pinned him like a bug. She went on. “It’s a natural thing, Peter. You couldn’t help it. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Peter’s blush barely diminished, and he was still standing hunched over. He’d picked up his laptop bag and was holding it in front of his crotch. Connie could barely suppress a laugh.

Stacy stepped right up to him and pulled the bag away. “Don’t be embarrassed,” she said, looking straight into his eyes. “I’m sure Connie takes it as a compliment.” She looked over her shoulder. “Don’t you, Conn?”

Connie stammered out a half-hearted agreement. “It just means you think she’s good-looking, right?” Stacy said. He nodded meekly. “It’s just what happens when a man finds a woman attractive.”

He stared pleadingly into her eyes. She gave him a firm but sympathetic look. “Do you find me attractive?”

He nodded again, and his eyes dropped to her chest before darting back up to her eyes. “If you go to the dance with us,” she said, “we can slow dance there.”

He sucked in a breath, then his eyes went wide. “What if…” he gestured with his hand in the general direction of his penis.

Stacy gave him a broad smile. “It might be nice,” she said. “I haven’t gotten to slow dance with you yet.”

He gaped, and his jaw dropped. Stacy held her arms out and stepped closer to him. She had to take his hands and put them on her hip, and on her shoulder, then she put her hands in the corresponding positions.

“Conn, can you turn on the music?”

Connie felt like things were getting way ahead of her. But she had no reason to object, and didn’t want to blow it, so she did as Stacy asked.

Stacy had seemed reluctant earlier, but now she was all in. Connie couldn’t figure it, until something dawned on her. No! Was Stacy getting into it? Getting into *him*?

She was certainly putting on a good show. If she had Connie at least wondering, she must have Peter fully convinced.

Especially since they were now swaying to the music, their bodies pressed tightly together. If he was paying Stacy the same compliment he’d paid her, there was no way she didn’t know it.

Wait, were her hips moving a little more than just to the music? Oh god, they were. She was actually grinding on him.

Peter just stared over Stacy’s shoulders. He caught Connie’s eye and quickly looked away, then broke their embrace.

“I… I’m sorry, Stacy,” he said, again. He stared down at the ground, not even trying to hide the fact that he was, apparently, hard as a rock. It was pretty futile in those pants.

Stacy put her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t be,” she said. She hesitated and looked at the ground. “I kinda liked it.”

His eyes went wide, then he got an expression like he’d had a sudden realization. He took a full step back. He looked from one girl to the other, then at his computer bag, which sat on the ground behind Stacy.

“I get it. You almost had me,” he said, then almost pushed past Stacy to get to his bag.

She caught his arm and looked at him. “No. Peter. I mean it.” she gave him a shy look. “We mean it, right Connie?”

Connie nodded, just along for the ride now. But it looked like Stacy had pushed too far. It seemed like they’d lost him now. She had to do something. She rushed up to them and stood facing Peter from two feet away while Stacy clung to his arm.

“Peter. We mean it. We want to go to the dance with you. What happened… ” she glanced down at the tent that still stood in the front of his pants. “I liked it too. It feels nice to know a man finds a girl… attractive. And you know, girls get excited too. It just doesn’t show as much.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said, making another move for his bag. Stacy held him back. They both knew that if he got that bag back in his hand, they’d lost.

“How can I convince you?” Stacy asked.

Peter got a look like he felt like he had the upper hand, like he had nothing to lose. He glanced at Stacy, then over at Connie. His eyes dropped briefly to her chest, where two buttons stood open and the top of her bra, if she was wearing one, would have been visible.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking from one to the other. His eyes finally rested on Stacy’s chest.

Stacy nodded, and put her finger under his chin, pushing his face up to look at hers. “I know. You think we embarrassed you. That’s not what we wanted to do, honest.”

Not yet, anyway, Connie thought.

Peter just stared, getting ready to bolt. Connie could see it in his eyes. “What if we… we were embarrassed too… a little?”

“Like how?”

Connie couldn’t believe she was doing it, but she reached up to the third button of her shirt, the one centered right over her non-existent cleavage. Stacy caught her eye, looking surprised, but also calculating. She gave Connie a subtle nod, and Connie undid the button but stopped short of pulling her shirt further open.

“We saw something… it embarrassed you,” Stacy said, glancing down at his crotch. He was still as hard as ever. “So, it would only be fair if…” She let the implication hang, but Peter was oblivious to it. “What if you saw something? Would that be better?”

Peter looked terrified, but also hopeful. He gave a slight shrug. Stacy gave Connie a hard look. Connie just stared back, the feeling of things getting out of hand growing by the second. Finally, she nodded to Stacy.

Stacy bit her lip, then looked down. She had a pullover shirt on, so no buttons to undo. Looking nervously from Peter to Connie, she lowered her hands to the bottom of her shirt. She stopped there and stared at Connie, her eyes hard.

Connie got the message and undid another button. There were only two more to go. With their eyes locked, she unbuttoned them both while Stacy pulled her shirt slowly up.

Connie remembered where they were. From this position behind the tree, she could only see parts of the school parking lot, and that between branches. It was deserted, but even if it wasn’t, it would be hard for anyone to see anything they were doing.

Her eyes went back to Stacy, then to Peter. He was looking greedily at Stacy, frozen in place.

Stacy nodded to her and hooked her fingers under her bra, then pulled up.

As much as to not throw her friend under the bus as to keep the charade going on the chance they might still pull this off, Connie pulled the sides of her shirt open, exposing her breasts fully to Peter.

He looked her way with awe, until his attention was pulled away by the almost audible flopping of Stacy’s tits as the shirt and bra finally released them. They slapped down against her chest, the flesh jiggling and rippling for a second before they came to rest. Her huge nipples were solid nubs.

But Stacy didn’t stop there. Connie expected her to do the chicken wing pose while she held her shirt above her chest. Instead, she pulled her shirt up further. Further still and it was over her face. Then further and only her arms were still inside the shirt. Then not even that.

Connie watched the shirt and bra hit the ground at the base of the tree. Peter was entirely engrossed in the twin wonders right in front of his eyes, but Stacy was staring at Connie. ‘Don’t leave me hanging all by myself,’ that look told her.

Peter wasn’t even looking, and Stacy’s argument was compelling, so she followed suit. She stared at her own shirt on the ground, and when she looked back at Peter, his eyes were clamped to her chest.

At least he noticed, she thought, realizing that she’d felt a flash of jealousy when it seemed like he would never take his eyes off Stacy’s much bigger tits.

“Are you sure of our… intentions now?” Stacy asked. Connie caught the way she emphasized ‘intentions’.

Peter looked back at her, then down at her chest. He shrugged. Connie wasn’t convinced that they had him hooked yet. She stepped toward him. Topless, she reminded herself. Her nipples grew stiff.

She wanted to remind him that the dance would be a fun time, but given that they both had their tits out, she wondered if it conveyed implications she wasn’t sure she wanted to be sent.

But then, it didn’t matter what they promised. They were going to stand him up anyway.

“Intentions?” Peter asked.

Stacy moved closer to him, letting one of her breasts ‘accidentally’ brush his arm. “I mean, that we’re sincere about wanting to go to the dance with you.”

“It’ll be fun,” Connie said, moving closer to him as well. “The dance, and then we can hang out after.” She thought that Stacy was the one who would do the hanging out. Connie herself wasn’t hanging so much as jutting.

“Yeah, right,” Peter said. “Easy for you to say.” He scanned the area around them with a sour look. He wasn’t nervous about them being seen, he seemed to be wondering when the joke would be sprung.

“Easy to make promises,” he said, peering at Connie.

“We’re not making any promises, Peter,” Connie said. She needed to get ahead of this. It was getting out of control. “The only reason for…” She gestured toward her chest. “for this is because you were embarrassed. We were trying to, I guess, to level the playing field.”

“She’s right, Pete,” Stacy said. He turned to her. “We just want you to go to the dance with us. No expectations beyond that.”

“Both of you?” His tone was sarcastic.

“Sure,” Connie said. “It’s not a formal dance. It’s a fun time for everyone to let off some steam before the last quarter.” She almost forgot she was topless within view of the school.

“And you want me to go with you because I’m just so attractive, is that it? Because I’m such a great guy?

“We don’t know each other.”

“Pete, you’re not the hottest guy in the school, OK?”

“Yeah, you said that already. Wouldn’t want me to forget it, would you? So what then?”

“Because… you might be a great guy. You’re interesting.”

“Why? How?”

“Hot isn’t all there is. OK, I admit, we might not have noticed you before, but you’re kinda good-looking now that we do. And you’re, I don’t know, a mystery.”

“A mystery? What do you want to know? I’ll tell you, then you can leave me alone.”

“Is that what you want?” Stacy asked, moving against him, her bare tits pressing into his ribs. “To be left alone?”

Peter looked down. He licked his lips. He looked nervous.

Then his look got hard. He reached for one of Stacy’s tits and grabbed it. A full handful. More than a handful. “You mean, is this what I want? A pair of great tits to squeeze whenever I want?”

Stacy’s eyes went wide, but she made no move to back away, or to push his hand off her.

He moved it away himself, then backed up a couple of steps, putting some distance between him and the girls.

“You want me to go to the dance with you? You want to be seen with me? What, as a charity case? Or maybe a buffer, keep the other creeps away, except for the ones you want creeping on you. Then you can go off and dance with them, leave me standing by the punch bowl.

“Do I have it about right?”

“Jesus, Pete,” Connie said. Is that what he thought of himself? What Stacy said wasn’t entirely untrue. Now that they’d gotten to know him a little, he was looking better. Not great, but better.

“‘Jesus’, what? We all know our place here. So you show me your tits. Big deal, girls show their tits all the time.” He pulled off his shirt. “See, I’ll show you mine. Now we’re even.”

His body was toned if not buff. Skinny, but with faintly defined pecs and a tight stomach. Dark hair flowed out from his waistband up to his belly button and thin wisps surrounded his nipples.

“What do you want us to do, Peter?” Stacy demanded in a frustrated, sarcastic tone. “Show you our pussies? Suck your dick?”

Peter smiled, a leering, predatory smile. “Sure. Maybe that would convince me.” In a flash, he undid his pants and whipped out his dick.

“There. You know you got me hard. Couldn’t hide it.” It wasn’t fully hard, but it arced out from a thatch of black hair looking oversized compared to his body. He pulled on it a few times, getting it fully hard, staring at Stacy’s chest.

“There, now you know. Sure, you’re both attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear? So there it is. Go for it. Maybe that’ll convince me.”

He stood with his hands on his hips, looking from one of them to the other, his cock pointing toward the sky at a 45-degree angle. It wasn’t big, but a lot more than Connie expected. He must be a grower because it sure didn’t show in his tight pants.

“Peter…” Connie began. “OK, you made your point.” She wanted him to put it away, though as it stood, it might be difficult to stuff it back in. She didn’t need to see that, and she certainly didn’t need to know what that flush that washed over her face and chest implied.

It was her first inkling that he might not be what they’d thought he was.

“You want me to put it back? Fine. Walk away, and I’ll zip it up.” He stood staring at the two of them as if daring them to move. Connie knew they had two choices. Walk away as he said, which would end this and their chances with Penny for good, or walk toward him. God knows what would happen if they did that.

Stacy made the decision. She walked up to him, stopping before she got poked in the belly. “Like Connie said, you’ve made your point.” She looked down at it, then back up at his eyes. “You think that scares us off? It’s not the first one I’ve seen. What about you, Conn?” She looked over her shoulder.

Connie shook her head. “No, not the first.” She hadn’t seen more than a couple. The implication that she was used to it, jaded, was false, but the words were not a lie.

Peter scoffed. “Of course you have. And I’ve seen tits before.” He looked at Stacy, standing close enough that he had to look down. “So what are you going to do?”

She reached down and cupped it in her hand. Peter shuddered.

“Stacy!” Connie yelled. She was definitely not up for this, popular crowd be damned.

Stacy shot her a warning look before looking back at Peter.

She wrapped her hand around his dick. Connie could only stare. She was torn between desperately wanting to get out of there and… something else.

“It’s nicer than I expected,” Stacy said, smiling up at him before looking back down. She looked at Connie.

“Oh. Yeah, it is,” Connie said.

“So now you both want me, is that it?” Peter asked sarcastically.

Stacy shook her head. She let his cock go and stepped back, squared up at him. “Get over yourself, Peter. You sound like you have a lower opinion of yourself than anybody else in the whole school.”

He looked at her, his face going through different expressions in quick succession. Confusion, wariness, calculating.

Stacy watched, then looked down and added, “That’ll make going to the dance with you even better.”

His eyes narrowed. He looked at Connie. She stared, pinned, her resolve to not cross that line wavering. She felt the warm breeze on her stiff nipples.

Without thinking, she stepped shoulder to shoulder with Stacy. She reached her hand out and ran her fingers over the top of his dick. She watched him close his eyes and tilt his head back.

Then his eyes snapped open and shot her a look. “Suck it,” he demanded. “Maybe this dance won’t be so bad after all. Suck my dick.”

Connie snapped her hand back, but he grabbed it. Pulled her toward him. He pushed her hand down to his dick again, then let it go and squeezed her tit. When he lightly pinched her nipple, it was her turn to shudder.

She looked from Stacy to Peter with a pleading look. She didn’t want to do this. Did she?

Stacy put her hand on Connie’s bare back. She rubbed it lightly, then pressed. Pressed downward.

Before she could stop herself, she felt her body lowering, her knees flaring out. Stacy went with her till she was squatting in front of him, his hard cock right in her face. Stacy dropped to her knees next to her and reached for him.

Stacy did it first. Connie didn’t dare look up to see Peter’s reaction when Stacy stuck her tongue out and licked the underside of his dick. She only wet her lips.

Did she actually want to do this? More than just being willing to go through with it, did she want it? She didn’t know anymore, but events were racing ahead of her. Stacy had her lips around him now. His dick was in her mouth.

Then she pulled off of it and pushed it toward her like she was offering a bite from a candy bar.

Connie couldn’t believe that she took it. She felt her lips surround the head of a penis for the second time in her life, and a switch flipped in her. Yes, she wanted this. This geeky, unpopular, not great looking guy, he owned a penis, and she wanted it.

The previous time she’d done this, it hadn’t gone much further than this. Just a quick suck or two, then a handjob. She knew she should stop, that this… boy, wouldn’t have much stamina, wouldn’t be able – or willing – to hold back, and that that time would come soon.

She pushed her lips further down his shaft. Oh, god, she thought, am I going to do this?

But no. Stacy wanted more. She practically yanked Peter’s dick out of Connie’s mouth and took it back into her own. Connie was glad. But she was also jealous.

She stared at the cock disappearing between Stacy’s lips just an inch from her face. At his balls hanging right in front of her. She darted her tongue out and caught the side of his shaft as Stacy bobbed back. A salty, faintly sweaty taste that drove straight to the middle of her brain and made her insides flutter.

Stacy bobbed back down, practically shoving Connie’s tongue aside. She went with it, and trailed down. She tilted her head and pushed forward. She heard him gasp when she licked one of his balls.

It jolted her. The taste, the texture, his groan. She lapped at his balls greedily, negotiating for space with Stacy on every bob her friend’s head made.

Stacy bobbed up and kept going. Connie saw her look up at him, then pull his cock upward against his belly. Stacy slurped his balls, then trailed her tongue all the way up.

It was a longer way than Connie would have believed ten minutes ago.

Peter’s hand shot out and gripped Connie’s upper arm. He lifted, and she went willingly, leaving Stacy alone with Peter’s cock. He peered into her eyes, then looked down at her tits. It felt like they were straining towards his eyes, straining to be seen, to be touched.

He looked back at her face, then moved in sharply, pushing his lips against hers, his tongue. She greedily accepted both and he moved his hand to her breast.

She made out with him, tongues dancing, lips nibbling, letting him feel her up. Feel all he wanted, and almost all she wanted. All while he was getting his dick sucked.

Who was this guy? How had he not cum yet? She had no time to think about it. His hand shot down between her legs, roughly pressing her over her pants.

“Oh!” she gasped, pulling away from his mouth. “I…” she wanted to protest, but she couldn’t. It felt too good. It was sudden, and rough, and she needed it.

She was helpless when he moved his hand up and started tearing at the snap of her jeans. He got it open, got the zipper down. His hand pushed roughly against her belly, then under the waistband of her panties. Then…

Her head exploded with lights. Her jaw worked uselessly and her entire body tensed, unable to breathe. He fingered her roughly and pressed against her opening. She wanted to help him, wanted to do something to give him more room, but her body was frozen as she climaxed.

Her upper body slumped against his shoulder, her mouth trailing drool along his upper arm, the same arm that was still plunged into her pants. She didn’t feel done yet.

She reached behind herself to push her pants further down, to give his fingers room to curl and push into her. But she started to come back to her senses. She tried to look around, to look toward the parking lot, but she couldn’t turn that far with his hand pinning her pussy like it was.

“Not here,” she groaned against his shoulder. He stopped moving his fingers and looked up, looked around.

He nodded to her and dropped to his knees, pulling her with him. Pulling out of Stacy’s mouth as well. They were down among the weeds and the wheat now. It wasn’t what she meant, but she didn’t know what she had meant, only that she needed more, and preferred not to be seen. She wasn’t sure how much she cared about the latter.

She pushed her hands against her waistband behind her, trying to work her jeans over her butt while staring at his cock pointed right at her. He pulled one foot out from under himself and planted it on the ground. He untied his shoe and pulled it off, then the other.

Oh, yeah, shoes, Connie thought vaguely. She needed to get her shoes off. She could hardly think beyond that, only that she needed to get her pants off, and her shoes were in the way.

She watched Peter fall back to sit on the ground. He peeled his pants off. As if she’d needed a demonstration about how to do it, she copied him.

Part of her brain realized she was naked, and where she was. But she noted it as if it was somebody else, somebody she was observing from a distance. She was getting carried away. She felt like things were happening without her full will, like they were just happening, not that she was doing them.

But she was doing them. When Peter crawled to her on all fours and kept going, she let his shoulder push her onto her back. When his hand reached between her legs, she opened them. When he pushed a finger into her and thumbed her clit, she tried to squeeze, to pull him into her.

When he moved his mouth to her nipple, she cradled his head with both hands and moaned his name.

And when he trailed his tongue down the center of her chest, toward her belly, she pushed on his head, urging him to move faster.

At the first contact of his tongue with her clit, she barely kept herself from screaming at the top of her lungs. She was barely aware of deciding that he knew what he was doing, and how strange that seemed for somebody who was just a geek and a hopeless virgin.

She only registered silent pricks of light in her head and the quivering ache in the center of her gut. That, and what she needed to turn those pinpoints of light into a nuclear explosion.

He knelt upright between her legs, his cock hovering just above her pussy and belly. Stacy moved to him and planted her mouth on his. His hands went to Stacy’s ass, and Connie realized her friend was just as naked as she was.

She watched Peter finger her, reaching down and under, pressing deep into the gap between her ass cheeks.

Stacy shifted her knees till they were next to Connie’s chest, lowering her head and breaking their kiss. Pete looked down at Connie, spread out under him, waiting and wanting. He grabbed his cock and slapped it against her once, twice.

“Touch her,” he ordered Connie as he lifted his cock toward Stacy’s face. She lowered her head to meet him halfway. It thrust her ass into the air. Connie felt the girl’s breast hang down to pool on her belly.

Her head lolled to the side and saw her best friend’s clam within arm’s reach. Bare lips, red and puffy, inner structures pinched between them. She watched herself move her hand to Stacy’s thigh, then up, then across her pussy.

Peter rewarded her by pressing his cock lengthwise against Connie’s slit. She saw Stacy’s head move with him and felt her hair brush her inner thighs as she licked his length, right up against her.

Stacy’s knees moved apart as Connie fingered her, pressing and probing where she liked it herself, having no other experience to draw from. It felt surreal. She was straight, but somehow, Stacy’s pussy had been linked to her own, a press here, a rub there, and both Pete and Stacy conspired to transmit another press and rub to Connie.

She felt his cock lift away from her. Was this it? A part of her mind tried to tell her that this was going too far, but she barely heard it. ‘Too far’ was a concept that seemed entirely moot.

But no. She felt a rough texture brush her lips and realized it was his balls. Then she felt Stacy’s face and tongue. Not licking her, but licking Peter. There was hardly a difference now.

Stacy’s knees tried to move further apart and found Connie’s shoulder in the way. She lifted her knee and Connie felt her cunt abandoned. She caught Connie’s eye as the knee lifted further and swung over her. She couldn’t read the look in her friend’s eyes.

Stacy straddled her. She looked up at angry red lips glistening with moisture. She felt Peter’s cock press against her again, still along her slit rather than into it. It slid forward and Connie saw Stacy’s crotch press down toward her face.

She stuck out her tongue and for the first time tasted pussy. She didn’t hate it, but even if she had, the fact that she now felt Peter’s head pressing against her opening made it worth it. Even more, as Stacy’s tongue mimicked what Connie was doing with hers.

She saw those pinpoints of light shimmer and vibrate more excitedly.

Peter pushed into her, sliding in like a hand into a glove. Even smoother. Connie couldn’t remember ever being this wet.

That little part of her brain gave up. “I guess ‘too far’ means nothing anymore?” it asked her rhetorically. There was no further. This was her first time.

Pete stroked into her as she licked Stacy’s slit, her face covered with slippery lubricant. Every time he pulled back, it left her feeling an empty void, filled again quickly, at a steady, even pace.

It was, literally, nothing she had ever felt before. The friction, the pressure both against her and inside her as the mass of him forced her walls apart and completely filled the space between them.

The lights in her head multiplied and coalesced toward a single point. Her thighs quivered and ached at the same time. Her body flexed and relaxed with each thrust from Peter, each cycle bringing more intensity, more tension, building to an inevitable, sudden release.

But it didn’t happen. This time, her void was not refilled. Peter pulled completely out.

With her face buried between Stacy’s thighs, she could see nothing. But as she tried to back off, so did the only remaining contact that was happening where she needed it most.

She was aware of Peter moving, coming around her side. She saw a shadow over her and it was him, his rampant cock hovering over her face. She tilted her head back to look up at it, thinking only that it didn’t belong here, it belonged where it was.

She saw one hand go between Stacy’s thighs, to where her tongue had just been. His other went to his dick and he pushed it down, toward her face. She craned her neck back and he fed it to her.

“That’s it,” he said, and the affirmation brought a more solid contact from Stacy’s tongue on her clit. She was like Pavlov’s dog now, a slave to her need. If she did what Peter wanted, she got what she needed.

So she did it. She sucked him, his balls bumping her face while Stacy ate her.

She tasted herself, wondering if that counts as two now. She couldn’t see past his balls, but he heard a squelching that told her where Peter’s fingers were. A vibration from Stacy’s mouth confirmed it.

Peter pulled his hips back, withdrawing from Connie’s mouth. She looked up to see his fingers, two of them, knuckle deep in Stacy. They twisted, pushed, and pulled. The tendons on the back of his hands worked; he was doing something with his fingertips. Something that made Stacy’s breath on Connie’s flesh hot and heavy.

“Lick”, he commanded. She did, and Stacy reciprocated in this three-way exchange of pleasures. His knuckles pushed her nose this way and that as he twisted his fingers and she pressed her tongue right next to where they disappeared.

“Don’t stop,” he said as he withdrew his fingers. Then his balls were bumping her forehead again and she watched his penis slide between Stacy’s sopping lips. Stacy shuffled her knees to widen her thighs even more, pulling her slit even more open.

She saw the helmet of Peter’s cock maneuver to separate inner lips that stuck almost straight out. Then, firmly seated, he began to push. In slow motion, she watched Stacy open more and more to accommodate his girth. She watched the head disappear, the shaft start to slide between.

She had a front-row seat, close enough to see skin pores amid all the glistening wetness. Until his balls dragged over her eyes.

Stacy let out a long sigh as Peter pushed fully into her. Connie lowered her head as much as she could but all she saw was hairy testicles and Stacy’s labia coming together around it like a Gothic arch.

“Lick me,” Peter said. She did, and he pulled slowly out of Stacy, sliding his balls and then his shaft along Connie’s tongue and nose. She kept her tongue in the action as he began a steady pumping. One of his hands came off Stacy’s hips and did something, and then Connie felt a tongue on her again, right where she needed it.

And more. Two fingers in her, Stacy’s fingers. Peter moving faster, squelching sounds inches from her ears. Peter’s balls swinging violently, then tightening, getting smaller and barely moving.

Connie’s brain lit up again, the pinpoints of light shuddering violently. They circled each other as if pulled by their own gravitational attraction. Then she lost all contact with this world in a supernova of light and utter silence.

She had a vague sense of her head thrown back, Peter pulling out and grasping himself, splashes of cum on her, over splash from painting Stacy’s cunt and asshole, then weak dribbles that never reached Stacy on their way to Connie’s mouth and chin.

While she was still climaxing, he pushed his dick to her lips. She took it, trying her best to clean him off while her body spasmed. She tasted semen for the first time, but could not process the taste.

As she came down, she cleaned Peter more thoroughly, her body still spasming. Then she cleaned her best friend. She tasted it now, the earthy, musky taste that reminded her of ripe cheese and old shellfish. She didn’t care. This was her due, this was the flavor she would always remember.

When she saw sky again, she got an upside-down look at Peter sitting sprawled in the dirt, his floppy cock still wet against his thigh. He looked out of breath and like all his joints had turned to rubber.

Stacy was on her back next to her, head to toe. She looked as exhausted and satisfied as Connie felt.

In time, they all realized where they were. Connie pulled her legs together and sat up shakily. Then she remembered. Where they were, what they were there for. She scrambled towards where she thought her clothes were and caught Peter’s eye.

“So you’ll go to the dance with us?”

He was standing now, finding the front of his pants to pull them on. He laughed, a dry, sneering laugh. “Why bother?” he mocked. “I got what I wanted.”

Stacy laughed too. Connie looked at her friend, confused. Stacy was still laying on her back, tits splayed, knees up and slightly parted. She was looking at Connie with a look of contemptuous pity.

Before she could ask her friend what was going on, she heard a slow golf clap from the direction of the fence.

Penny emerged from around the tree, wearing thin slacks and a floral blouse, her hands out in front of her still doing the clap, a broad grin on her face.

“You did a wonderful job, you two,” Penny said when she got within conversational distance. But she wasn’t looking at Connie. Connie turned. Stacy moved to stand next to Peter. He had his pants on, snap and zipper still open, and his arm around her naked waist.

“There were a few minutes there when I thought we’d blown it,” he said to Penny.

Connie slumped to the ground, on her ass with her knees up in front of her. She wanted to hug them to her chest and cry. She’d been played. The whole time she thought that she and Stacy were playing Peter, it was the opposite. He and Stacy were putting one over on her.

Or had Penny planned it all along? She turned to sit facing the three of them, quickly putting the big picture together. The big, ugly picture with her as the central figure.

“I hear that Beta Pi Nu is looking for girls just like you,” Penny told Stacy. Then she turned to Connie. “Cruel bitches like you, maybe not so much.”

What hurt most was that Penny said it with a smile, in a lighthearted voice.

“It was your idea, Penny,” Connie pleaded, knowing it was hopeless.

“Because I wanted you to know how it felt.”

“Well, now I know. Happy?”

Penny squatted in front of Connie. “No, I can’t be happy about this. I’m not like you.”

“I guess I learned my lesson.”

“Have you? Have you really? You’re pissed off right now, probably humiliated and feeling used. But those feelings will wear off. Or turn into something else. You have a choice about what you turn them into.”

Stacy and Peter were finishing getting dressed. Connie looked to her friend for support and found a cold stare. She looked to Peter.

Half of what felt so awful about this was that he would never speak to her again. Never be with her again. Her first time; she was used and dumped as quickly as that.

She looked to Penny. Of all people, she was the one whose expression showed some sympathy. Not a lot, but a tiny glimpse of it. Penny stood and looked down at her, the only one still naked to the world.

“We’ll be watching you,” Penny said. Then the three of them walked together back through the gap in the fence and out to the parking lot.

Connie sat and cried it out for half an hour, not bothering to get dressed. When she was done, she clung to what Penny had said, and to that one sliver of sympathy she’d seen. Maybe she was fooling herself, but she vowed to apologize to Peter.

She just knew that Peter and Stacy would be going to the dance tomorrow, for real. She would be the odd one out, left standing alone. But she would show up just to do that, to confess and apologize to Peter in front of everyone. Let them all see her far more naked than she was right now, see what she really was.

She knew it was only a start, just the beginning, but it had to be done. It was the only place to start. She slowly stood and put her clothes on.