Good Girl Dances As A Satanic Nun

Chapter 1. Free For Halloween

Monday October 12, 2009

It is a chilly Fall on a college campus in Milwaukee.

Monday afternoon my guy Chip was walking with me after the dumb class where we met. That meeting led to my first date with my first kiss and the very first visit of a male hand exploring of my naughty spots. We were talking about weekend plans when he said, "Halloween is coming up in about two weeks. I will be busy that night, it has to do with my job."

I was confused. "You don't have a job. You are still a student." I was sure of that, why else would he go to classes? He even lived in a dorm. I had not figured all that out yet.

"Yes and no," he answered. I think he likes me confused, he says I am cuter that way.

I gave him a cute exasperated look that said his answer didn't help. He liked that. "You know I have my career job lined up for next summer. This is related to that job, it's a party for clients... we make nice and show confidence. No costumes, we will all have tuxes."

I was confused, anyone my age would be. It was like a rule, one was either a student or you had a job. Mixing them up seemed so wrong. "Are you working around on me?"

He laughed out loud at that, like it was a clever line. I felt good for making him laugh, but I was confused by the tone of the laugh and the lack of an answer.

We were not boyfriend-girlfriend yet, but I had hopes and I believed if I acted like we were, the words would be spoken. He was the first guy to get into my bra and my panties, so I had an investment. Okay, he was also the first guy I ever dated.

It seemed he was amused with my confusion entirely too often for my taste. But he was the first person to make my tits and nethers feel incredible so I let him get away with it by playing dumb.

"You told me you are already hired, but you aren't getting paid and still have to graduate? How does that work again?" I really did not understand it.

He liked that and hugged me close. "The point is that I am busy that weekend, all weekend, so if the sluts have plans" (they did, one of the sluts must have told him) "you are free to join them because I am busy with my future job. Have fun."

We were at his dorm where he was going to study for a hour before his Monday night class. It was football season and he had a Monday night class, so he was serious. The class was a rough one, like Calculus of Bounded Planes or something like that, so he had to study.

I was used to it, making out after our Monday afternoon class was not allowed, so he gave me the kiss I expected and turned to leave.

I was grumpy so I shouted to his back. "I will probably go with my housemates to the University dance party."

He waved that he was fine with that. I was still in a grumpy mood when I got home.

I had counted my blessings as I made my way to the house. Chip had been my guy for three solid weeks. The much hotter and easier sluts I shared the house with were lucky to get more than 2 dates in a row with a guy. Of course, they routinely gave up their pussy before midnight on the first date while I was still a virgin, so I can't really say who had it better.

I should explain that, until this semester, I had always been Daddy's Good Girl. In high school and my first two years of college I studied hard, got good grades, and never got kissed or even went on a date. So as I entered my Junior year I talked myself into moving to a house off campus. None of my housemates were good girls, they were all sluts and one had even been married and widowed. I told Daddy that my move was so I could do my own food better and cheaper than the dorm. (This was true.) But really I was curious about sex and felt inhibited in my dorm room.

I got lucky finding Chip, we began talking after the first class. That led to our first date. He had dated a lot but now that graduation was on the horizon he wanted to try somebody who wasn't a slut. I made some suggestions about parking after our second date and he responded perfectly, with soft lips on my nips and fingers finding out I was without panties. After that we had 4 more car dates in three weeks, all ending with good feelings for me and my privates. We also had a schedule of make-out sessions in his room three days a week.

I had not gone all the way but Chip seemed fine with my sexual level.

The sluts were all astonished by how quick Chip and I got together and what we were not doing. Three weeks and I was still a virgin! Impossible! They never dated guys who didn't jump their bodies at the first chance.

I admit that Chip had me pleasantly confused as well. Both about him and about me. Of course, the sluts always met their guys in bars, never in class.

-

Chapter 2. What Sort Of Nuns?

A Dozen Days Before Halloween

As it happens, my housemates had already invited me along for their Halloween plans and I said "maybe." It seemed they needed 4 people in costumes for a dance contest and were spitballing ideas, but had not decided anything.

The next night I was clear-headed enough after my 5 o'clock make-out hour with Chip that I took part in the discussion, taking half a night off from boring homework. The other three sluts were shocked and excited because they really needed a fourth body, but I played it down. When I sat down I said school had to be about more than books. That broke them up. I know all the good laugh lines.

It seems that last year Kitty and Chica, who are both hot, went as nuns; they were the instigators and wanted something different this time. Rita (the widow) and I were going to join them. Dee and Sandra, the tall, slightly overweight blondes with big hair living in the upstairs bedrooms had other plans for that weekend because of a stupid football game. They had boyfriends back home that were football nuts so they had to go to the 'tailgate' at Lambeau which, if you ask me, sounded far too sexual and disgusting. The last girl in the house was Sha're our ethnic megaphone princess. She claimed she had her own party to attend, she did not need some "trumped up high school social." But we all figured her boyfriend had pimped her out to a party in some hell-hole in the city ghetto where she was going to make some money in disgusting ways without any clothes on, give it all to the boyfriend, then he would give her none of it back. She called that love. Since her big ears could track vermin and she really did have a megaphone we refrained from comment

With me in the mix the other three girls said they wanted us to wear similar outfits for the dance contest, if we could just come up with something. Kitty and Chica described the nun costumes from last year, because they still had those.

I asked innocently, "Why the hell nuns?" I swear that is what I said.

But everybody else heard me ask "Why not hell's nuns?" and the stupid idea caught fire. It just flashed over. Just like that we were going as satanic nuns and it was my idea.

Which surely meant I was going to hell in a flaming nun's costume.

They started with a classic nun headpiece, except red stood in for black and black stood in for white. The head pieces were like the stiff thing nuns wear on their foreheads, except for us the part that covered the forehead extended down to become the built-in mask extending down to the cheeks. It was clever and spooky. They debated eyeholes, they wanted their eyes covered but had no idea how. The head-cape-thing extended to mid back, it was red and the hem was cut like flames instead of straight. Rita designed that part. For the rest it got a bit strange. We got flesh-colored body suits and put fake nipples, "flaming" bright red pubes, and strange symbol (like tattoos) on them. We also stuffed the boobs; none of us needed it but we did it anyway because they wanted to go too far. Except Rita, her huge natural boobs went 'to far' already. Over the flesh-colored body suits - with hellish graphics above and below - we tried see-thru black web bikinis with the pubes bulging out. At the last minute we ditched the bikini tops - we were in body suits so the nipples were not real. Then to match the bikinis we added billowing arm sleeves/fingerless gloves extending across the back as part of sort of short cape of red fabric, except that it was slit all kinds of ways to let the fake body tats show. Sort of like a Satanic Vampire/Suicide Girl take on a traditional nun outfit in a bikini bottom, afflicted with a tattoo fetish. To get to and from the contest without getting arrested we had simple black floor-length capes so we looked like 4 teepees with heads.

Just like that we were Hell's Nuns. It was all my fault and I was going to hell to be some demon's playtoy for eternity.

The next day Rita and I got another bit of news, something Kitty and Chica already knew. We knew there was going to be a dance contest with a cash prize. But we had a special advantage. It changed everything by adding real money. Enough that we would cheat to win because we could. That is what Hell's Nuns do!

There were going to be two bands at the dance. The headliners were "StarPlayers," a big deal in our state and the surrounding states, they would play a 60 to 70 minute set. The warmup band was "Night Scythe," which was from the same part of the state as Kitty and Chica, in fact they were both special groupies of the band.

I had to ask what "special groupies" were. It meant Chica had fucked 6 members of the five-man band, doing both the old founding original bassist who was now the manager/part-time on keyboards as well as the replacement bassist when he moved up. She confessed that she might have also done the fill-in acoustic guitar girl as well, that night was a fog and all Chica rememberers is waking up with blond hairs in her teeth and a kiss in lipstick on her bare ass.

"Did you do them all at the same time?" I asked Chica, trying to be sarcastic.

She answered with a straight face. "Oh no, 5 is my limit, and that was only once... well, twice," she paused at the special memory. "Yeah, it was twice. It is hard to make a real connection to that many. I find that two at a time usually works best."

I'm sorry I asked, I did not need that visual. I could imagine three at once, but five?

Chica saw my confusion and gave me a clue. "Hands jerking them off onto my nipples."

Yeah, now I could imagine. Somehow that made it worse.

Kitty had only done 2 of the guys, the lead singer and his twin brother who played organ; she went to high school with them and cheerfully interacted with their private parts each year for six or seven years now. Individually and together. Alone and with close friends. ("We call it a Christmas present" she said, "except it does not happen at Christmas... and it cums delightfully unwrapped.") She kept a chart with face shots and pictures of other things, but she would not show it to me because she didn't want to damn us a lower level of hell.

A good call.

Back to the money. It turned out that Night Scythe was going to both play for and judge (!) the dance contest right before StarPlayers went on. There were a bunch of categories for the dance groups, including clubs, dorm wings, etc. each with $100 prizes. The two big prizes were $500 each for the open category; one for 'professionals' defined as any group with one or more dance majors and one for 'amateur' which was any group that had no dance majors. Besides that there was an extra $500 for the winner of the Pro/Am dance-off. Plus there was $100 for the best costumes among top groups. Kitty had been a dance major for four semesters, but then she changed her major to Health & Fitness so she could land a summer working in a health club counting towels. That meant we counted as an amateur group. Still, Kitty was good, she knew her stuff.

The Chica filled us in on the Really Big Deal. It seemed that the playlist for the dance contest was going to be released 24 hours before the contest. But Chica contacted her special friend the manager and got the playlist 12 days in advance, so we could practice to the music. Plus she had the actual music. With that we figured to be the top amateur group going into the dance-off.

"Isn't that like cheating?" I asked. Well, I used to be a Good Girl.

The group needed a big group laugh just then, and again I delivered.

Plus there was a bit of even a bigger benefit for our cheating hearts.

The two top dancing groups - one professional and one amateur - would have the Pro/Am dance-off. The music for the dance-off was "Hell's Belles" which was a special re-arrangement of the AC/DC standard. Night Scythe followed the original version except for changing some words (it is not the bells that are dragging you down), using a different chorus with a different beat, and adding a couple of bars at the very end that were something special, with explicit lyrics (praising sluts who tempted men to damnation) and tricky instrumentals. Hence the extra "e" on the name. (Brian's original ending is kind of a downer, but now the Aussies are stuck with it.) This variant was not widely known and did not appear on any of their recordings, only in special live concerts. The thing was, not only did Chica and Kitty know the song by heart, they had a bootleg recording! NOBODY else would have that.

Kitty had to play it for us. I responded with a brilliant observation. "With those lyrics we just have to stand there in our costumes and shake to win the dance-off."

Chica heard something different, "Shaking off our costumes? That sounds like a GREAT idea."

Obviously, at a school function, on school property, we were not going to do a 4-Nun strip number. But the idea never really went away either.

With that much time to practice we figured that as long as we did not make fools of ourselves, we had the $500 or $600 in the bank. Maybe more. That would buy a lot of beer for Kitty and Chica, a bunch of Christmas presents for me, and a Christmas trip to see her kid for Rita. So we were completely motivated.

I did not miss any classes during the next week and a half. But between making the costumes and the dance practice I fell way behind on my schoolwork. I also had to beg off from time with Chip, trimming 'dinner and a movie' from our parking dates so they were just parking. He said he understood that my mates were counting on me, and said that "some typical college lifestyle experience" was a good thing. He wished he could see our performance.

"Satanic nuns" and "a good thing" did not sound like they should go together, so I was kind of glad he would be working his clients during the dance.

Most of the dances were pretty basic, we figured that we would beat the amateurs easily. But for the dance-off, I was having a hard time with being as sensual as the music. The others were all rubbing their crotches and offering their breasts, but even with the body suit on I just couldn't do it, and this was for all the marbles. Like a shortstop who couldn't fielder a grounder to his left, I was letting the team down and we all knew it. In frustration I complained to the others, "I can't do it, I'm a virgin!"

Surprisingly, they understood. Just my luck, they recalled my earlier suggestion of stripping ("I didn't suggest that," I yelled to no avail) and combined the two, the slut version of of lemons to lemonade. Kitty started it when she whispered "virgin sacrifice" and pointed my way. There was an instant meeting of the minds, no further explanation needed. They would capitalize on my inexperience, advertising it to everybody including the band.

"Gee thanks. Are we going to shout it out, or put a sign saying 'virgin' on me?" I was being sarcastic because I was not happy. You would think I would have learned by now.

They thought for a moment and said that shouting and pointing, then hanging a sign sounded like a better plan than doing it the other way. Later they decided it would be better to write the words in lipstick on my body - which meant ripping part of my body suit off. Bonus! If I wiggled while they wrote it would look like they were branding me. We practiced.

Tearing the body suit off was a problem of exposing too much until we decided to pre-tear.

"Arghhh!"

The idea was that I would come out dressed as them, but with a few extra items. At the end they would start to rip clothes off me, reveal that I was a virgin (signs), act like they were feeling me up to an orgasm... "You have had orgasms, right?" Chica asked.

Her roomie Kitty said that I did, she said her ears had heard my Magic Wand. "Those fuckers get anyone good off." Then she looked at Chica who smiled so sweet. "Of course, they are better when shared with a real good friend." Then she looked at me and Rita. "You do the scissors thing with it, right?"

Rita and I had adjacent single rooms, plus I had the biggest bed in the house while she was the tallest girl (six feet one). But before that went any further Rita cut Chica off. "I know the routine you are talking about, but actually she is 100% solo. Still, I have to say, when you are all out on Friday nights trying to find somebody with a pulse, she really rocks out solo." I did not realize Rita knew my secret. She told me later it was a guess, based on what she used to do. "But I was always a vegetarian."

I didn't answer but blushed bright red thinking of the cucumbers she bought every week. Then I noticed that Chica was blushing more. She was really hot looking when she got this deep blush, I suddenly had the urge to kiss her, and not in a G-rated way. One look from Kitty discouraged me.

We got back to the dance-off. They would figuratively deliver me to the stage where the "spirits of the band" would molest me by doing lewd solos while gyrating over me as I came continuously.

I said it was not going to work. They wanted to try. An hour later they agreed with me, I was hopeless at faking the climax, and worse for what came after. Finally Rita said she would do it. She had an idea she would not share which would draw attention. Wow! Did she.

Rita wore a very precisely pre-ripped body suit and cape. I was the worse at dancing so I was elected to tear parts off during the add-on portion in the dance-off, exposing the words "Virgin Offering" in black and red lipstick as Rita's bare back was exposed - looking like they just appeared. Thanks to pre-cutting her body suit the skin of her back and sides were also exposed in a predictable pattern, to the very limit of what was allowed. She went beyond the lines during the real thing. Rita's dance was a bit restrained and distinctly virginal (but lewd) up to that point, but when I took off her cape and figuratively offered her stripped body to the band, everything changed. She really looked like she was dancing in the throes of sexual passion, being fucked every way possible by four or more invisible beings while also being flogged somehow. I even got hot during rehearsals when she stayed dressed, and during the real thing she was on fire.

Well, she had been married, and it was a very friendly marriage, with guests.

To keep the attention on her we did this little move where we watched her and pointed at her with something that passed for demonic glee. Okay, I was better at that. It eliminated some issues like my stiffness and the fatigue of the other two.

I must say that learning to dance with my housemates was a significant experience; excluding family and Chip, I had never had 'fun' with a group before. But working together was a blast. Then when we dropped our capes as we went out on the dance floor in costume during the Halloween dance, I had so much fun with my mask on I can hardly describe it.

Maybe satanic nuns was not that bad an idea.

-

Chapter 3. The Dance

Saturday, Halloween Night

Suddenly it was Halloween with the four of us dressed for the dance contest, and honestly we kicked butt from the first song. Some of the professional groups were synched to the music and did complicated moves we could not hope to match, but for the non-professionals, based on our outfits and sexual inclinations there was no question who won the $500 non-professional prize.

Then when we had the dance-off for the big money, and the secret back-stage groupie weekend tryout that went with it. (Kitty and Chica knew about that. They told Rita but they figured it was better if I didn't know.)

Our win in the dance-off was even clearer thanks to Rita. Even the professional dance group that was dancing against us in the finals was thrown by the changes, and they just gave up during the added-on part of "Belles" which they could not dance to because they did not know it was coming, plus they all had to stop and stare as Rita made it look like some real damnation was in progress to the music.

For the big finish, in the moment before the big spotlights were killed (but a few carefully aimed follow spots were still on), skinny six-foot-one could-be-a-model Rita did her final killer move. Sweating and breathing hard, eye's cast down but a very satanic smile on her face, she actually flashed the band by "accidently ripping her costume" in a way that exposed her perfect giant tits. Totally, a double whammy of the whole D-cup truth with proud erect nipples was standing tall among them. She had was facing the band, her back was to the audience and the dance floor, but the move was pretty obvious, and a bunch of folks on the side saw her pointy side boobs, and everybody saw the shadows with distinct erect nips from the follow-spots. The way the spots moved it looked like she grew on stage just standing there.

The band and the folks working the lights were coached by Kitty so they were forewarned about 'something extra special from the winner.' They were looking for it, but the band members were clearly surprised by the move, while they played on they showed their surprise. For most people, it happened so fast that all they got was an impression and a shadow enhanced by the imagination. It was too fast for anybody to take a picture. A moment later the follow spots went out leaving the stage in darkness.

But you know, when it happened I thought of Miss Jackson at that Superbowl halftime show. I was an innocent tween back then, watching a wholesome sporting event with my Father, until halftime. How could she do that to us!

Now imagine Miss Jackson without the nipple shield, white, and taller with bigger boobs, spotlighted in red and black. Rita had Miss Jackson beat every way. Of course, Rita was looking for a husband, so you could not blame her for taking her best shot at the band members, writhing and shaking it to make her assets look a lot hotter. Also, there was nobody underage at this show, and the dancing kind of led up to it.

Getting the $100 costume prize - we were the unanimous pick - was an afterthought. Plus, we all knew the costume prize was really a win because of Rita's moment without half her costume.

-

Chapter 6: Backstage Feelings

Halloween Night October 2009

(FYI: Night Ranger was a rock band formed in the late seventies, before the enlightened era of MTV. Their videos for "Sister Christian" and "Don't Tell Me You Love Me" were in the rotation on MTV during the eighties. A DVD was produced. Three decades later, in 2009 - the time of this story - the mostly intact band was still rocking audiences live in Japan.)

After the dance contest we and three other dance groups were invited backstage with Night Scythe for the time while StarPlayers played. It seemed there was a secret individual competition for status as special groupies for the weekend. Kitty and Chica knew the score and planned accordingly.

The 5 Scythe guys were all sweaty from their set - they work hard for their craft - so they stripped down to their sweaty skin and showered in a large tent-shower set up backstage in an off-limits restricted area. The guys were not shy and welcomed the company of some hard-working dancers who were willing to join them in good clean fun. Also the other types of fun.

Chica and Kitty got into the shower fast enough to greet the band members and pass out kisses high and low. I had wondered why their costumes had to have velcro for a 'quick release' design. They got Rita into the shower also, she had the biggest boobies backstage - bigger than the whole team of professionals put together - and it was like everybody had to feel them to make sure they were natural. Rita gave everybody a chance to be sure. Chica and Kitty promoted the feelings. For slow learners in the band it seemed several feels were required. Experts were fascinated by her nipples and just had to taste. She had highlighted her nips with waterproof lipstick and let them.

All three of them also wore the waterproof lipstick on their nether lips, but they did not share that detail with me.

I had to say, after Rita's show I kind of wanted to feel them as well, but they were in the shower and I wasn't.

I had to draw a line, I was not going into the shower naked for a chance to give a few band members good feelings. I was fine keeping my skimpy flesh-colored body suit on and staying dry.

I talked to a roadie and he steered me to the road manager Phil, the one who used the be the bassist and knew Chica in the biblical sense. Phil was a at least 20 years older than the others in the band, I knew he had put them together and made them successful before he pulled himself out of the lineup. Now he hustled for them, he was looking for that national hit that could move the band into a record deal and some national exposure.

Right away Phil got a little friendly with his hands on me; I was in my body suit and most of it was innocent places but his hands were always moving and they traveled over my breasts and ass a few times - outside my costume.

I admit I was on a high from the dancing plus there was a mood backstage so I let his fingers roam. I told myself I was still dressed in a body suit, I was just having fun and a little physical appreciation after the dance. Here and now it was normal behavior and did not hurt my mood. Plus I was curious to feel the difference compared to Chip, his hand was the only one I knew. (Was there a difference? Yes! A lot!) Finally I suggested I was not so comfortable with him fingering my pussy. I did not trust the seam that was all there was between fingers meeting intimate folds. Phil wasn't nasty about it, in fact he suggested that he had the same thought, which was funny. I didn't bitch, I just suggested a line.

He stayed above the line and we were both happy.

To make conversation I said, "Actually, the girls brought me along because they needed a virgin to sacrifice. I'm a serial killer but am still intact. So I would hate..."

(I have no idea why I said "serial killer" except that it trumped our obvious difference in physical size, plus I had read an internet story about a female assasin named "Domino." It just popped into my head. There are some folks you just don't mess with. I realized later how it was both plausible and mysterious.)

"Oh! Sorry, forgive me for my clumsy fingers, I have to say your looks must have drawn your fair share of men, Sister..."

"Christian."

Phil's face lit up, he immediately caught the reference - we belonged to the same club! "You know, the lead singer of Night Ranger was a bassist, same as me. They are still rocking in Japan."

I did know that. "Yes, they had some hit singles there recently. Actually Kelly wrote and sang that one... he is the drummer. It was about his sister."

Now Phil was amazed... and interested in more than just his fingers. "How can a child like you know that! Drummers get too much pussy," he said with some bitterness. He meant it.

"Jack Bruce?"

"Ginger Baker had him beat all kinds of ways. Wait, you are a 20-year old virgin who knows Night Ranger lore and even 70's superbands? I think I have found the mother of my children."

"Don't tell me you love me, because I don't want to know," I said, shaking my head with a smile.

He was dumbstruck that I had that Night Ranger lyric on the tip of my tongue so fast. "Damn, you devil, another Night Ranger hit, that WAS Jack's and I walked right into it. You are something girl. Look, the other girls are auditioning for the weekend party at the hotel... but if you want I can arrange a golden ticket, with either the band... or if you would like I can make it a solo experience... All the drugs you can do..."

I shook my head in time as I completed the Don Henley solo lyric. "Sorry... all she wants to do is dance, dance."

"Damn, another drummer's line! I set it up and walked right into it. See why they get the best stuff? Are you sure?"

By this time he had taken his hands completely off me, I guess discussion and repartee were more interesting than feeling up the anatomy of another mindless groupie. Well, conversation has more variety than anatomy, once you have fingered 4,500 groupies I guess that number 4,501 can't be that big a thrill no matter what she looks like. That made him officially interested. So we kept the chatter going while I gave a subtle invitation to get his hands back to work, number 4,501 for him was number 2 for me, and I was very curious for a girl with her clothes on. I liked it and moved a little closer.

Contact! It worked.

I continued. (Sigh.) "If only I had met you sooner, but this virgin sacrifice thing is kind of a big deal, I would hate to disappoint the others in the coven. If it is any consolation, Chica said you were a great bassist. Why did you quit? Also, you do have nice hands..." he took the invitation so I got more nipple action. Nipples and other things looked up. "Yes! There! You DO have nice fingers."

"Oh my, such nice puffy nipples... they are not commonly seen in pub... lick." It was a offer.

That was good enough to let him have a chance to thrill me. I gave him a look as we moved around the corner. Somebody pulled down my neckline, it didn't take much and his hands were busy. He wasted no time, getting his licks in on both puffy nipples. He had to repeat it. The move was sincere appreciation, even if I was number 4,501. "Sweet and salty," he said, thrilling me, "and so divinely soft."

I was never told what I tasted like, it was nice. I did not rush him, so he nibbled some more and added soft fingers that praised their shape and soft pertness. It was private, but public too, because anyone could come around the corner, it was not like we were in a room. Being under the same roof as the band playing and their cheering crowd public added to the experience.

I started to have fun, maybe as much as he was. He liked feeling up my bare tits as we were hidden, and I liked letting him, plus we both liked the conversation that continued about Clapton and Winwood and others. After one song I pulled my top back in place and we shifted towards the previous area. We could be seen, but you had to look for us.

Somehow his a finger was still under my top. Okay, I let him, it was a thrill. We talked about moldy groups from the '80s, which I had seen countless times because Dad had all these music DVDs in continuous rotation on a DVD-turntable thing. He said MTV used to be like that, but that sounded impossible.

Then Dad showed me that he actually had an ancient Betamax tape of 80's MTV. It really was back-to-back music videos, with the 'gotta luv 'em' cute VJs mixed in, cutting in and out of commercials.

Finally Phil got back to the original subject of our conversation. He had a question. "Well, you don't sex and you don't do drugs, so why are you bound for hell?" Phil asked, gesturing towards my outfit.

I liked this silly game. "I told you... serial killer."

"Oh yeah, that's right. What weapons?"

"Whatever works. I refuse to get locked in to something. Makes CSI work for a living."

"But if you had to pick, which would be your favorite?" He was trying to 'win' this silly word game by getting me to go too far.

I looked at him, he had an idea that winning this word-play could trap me into this weekend, like he thought I was worth it. I could see how that would work. Maybe roofies, maybe just get me drunk and use peer pressure. Probably a mix, I am sure he had done them all. I know guys think like that sometimes. I realized that I just might enjoy it for the start. But I knew the ending was another goodbye. So I decided to give him something else to think about, to keep him off balance. "You said it. It is something easy I could find in any motel or hotel. Close at hand. The simple solutions are best."

He expected me to say gun or something like that. Maybe knife or poison. Clearly I had none of those along, he had patted me pretty much everywhere. He thought back on what we had each said and did not have a clue.

"What could you find... now you have me charmed, and I am really curious. Could you whisper it?"

So I did, I leaned real close to his ear, so his hairs moved with my whisper. "I feel that the condemned gets a sort of 'last meal' of his choice but does not get to finish it. I let him... enjoy a taste... but as I mentioned I have my limits. When he goes over the line, or the time is up... he gets kissed for the last time by... an ice pick, of course. There is always one close when you need it. In the eye if he is naughty, or quickly in the ear if he is nice. Unless I am upset about anything... bad behavior... well then, maybe I pick him someplace else first... think of something bad but not immediately fatal...  lower down..." I gave it a pause for effect, then added something that made it seem like I knew for a fact. "The key is to keep the line straight, to focus. It is not a knife, you have to think rapier or foil. Full length straight in."

I had him going, thinking he had an opening way in, a sexual reference that would signal my agreement. But that sudden word image formed in his minds and stopped whatever thoughts he had ice cold. Suddenly he was not sure if I was telling the truth or a story, but the odds shifted big time. Thinking of those options he was no longer interested in whatever he had planned for me in a hotel.

That was when Chica came over. "Hi, I see you have met our real virgin." He knew Chica and she confirmed one of the things I told him, his belief about all the other things I said went up.

"Yes... uh... she has very nice nipples," he replied.

Chica gave us both an 'I can't believe it,' look. "You haven't ruined our virgin, have you? They are hard to find." She thought she was making a joke.

He showed her my nipples, they were still visibly damp. "Uh... with her I thought I should stick with the limits she set. See, they are great puffy..." He got a confused look on his face. "I figured you knew that... the way you and..."

Chica gave him a look and shook her head so he didn't finish the thought. Then she turned to me with wonder in her voice. "You think you know some people... say, do you mind if...?" she asked me as she gestured towards his zipper.

I nodded that it was okay so she knelt down, opened his zipper, pulled him out and began to 'thank him very much' for the playlist. She used her mouth but didn't say anything, she made it look so easy and fun. Chica was the hottest face and body backstage, top 1% on campus really, and she was showing it all. She was wet from the shower, naked, and dripping cum from her breasts and pussy; she had fucked at least two band members in the shower but she was now "between band members." Plus she had a mission.

Why did it seem sort of normal?

Phil sighed as he said that he loved his most attractive fan (Chica preened at that - she IS really attractive) and I agreed she was special. "Maybe the day will come..." I said. That got a look from her, maybe she thought I was interested in her. I could not read her expression with her mouth full. And it was very full.

Then he said how he hated that he was going to have to share her with the other guys. "But those guys do the work, so I gotta be fair."

"Even fair to the drummer?" I asked.

"Especially the drummer," he sighed. "He has a thing for this one..."

She had to free her mouth to answer that. "Yeah, it is a really big thing. Yummy. I will get it all in... someday. Well, we can all dream..." Then she went back to sucking. I am no judge, but Phil looked sorta big to me as she took him in until her lips made contact with his belly. Plus, the way her lips moved on him...

Heaven help me, she is so attractive, especially her lips. I actually wanted to kiss her then and there. Well, maybe on the nipples, if they were clean. You know, it was hard to tell.

Phil continued complaining to me. "As I was saying, he has a thing, well, for her tight little... damn! She has already been used..." she held up two fingers, "Fuck see that? I never get her dry and tight. I will have to settle for leftovers again. Or... maybe I will get her ass."

Chica's mouth was full so she didn't comment, but she shook her head "yes" and gave him 'thumbs up' signal, followed by 2 fingers of one hand forming a circle and 1 finger of the other hand intersecting. We got the picture. It was amazing that with her hands like that, her lips kept moving... He cheered up and went back to talking to me about AC/DC - the Bon Scott lineup, while handling my boobs. I pulled my neckline to expose one and he immediately started sucking it. Chica saw, her eyebrows went up and she gave me a "thumbs up."

Maybe he though I would not "pick" him with Chica present.

Eventually I thanked him for the playlist as well. He asked - Chica was still sucking him - if it was worth a kiss. I nodded and gave him one. I whispered "virgin" going in so it was a chaste kiss, but I tried to be extra warm and gentle on the lips - and he seemed very happy with what he got. When we broke I quickly kissed him on both eyes and that surprised him more. "Windows to the soul, and the view is very heart-warming. You are too good for... now. Maybe another time and place," I glanced down at Chica, "and maybe I'll retire the other thing..." He just about swooned.

I have to admit, it struck me that I might profit someday from watching my housemate do her thing - start to finish. Most of the girls from the other dance groups had also stripped down for indecent handling. Chica was going for the popularity prize, the "Queen of the Scene" and unlike everyone else she knew the manager got two votes. So she kept sucking him right there in front of me! (I declined her motioned invitation to join in her "Halloween trick or treat.") He handled my tits while she sucked him - her's were out of reach and nobody minded him feeling me up. I even rubbed his ass (he was still wearing blue jeans) some.

The look on his face, he knew he was a very fortunate man.

Chica could not resist joining Phil in feeling up my tits (they looked good in the torn outfit), but after a minute I discouraged that. I asked, "Don't you have a girlfriend?" She looked embarrassed and made a sign for "it's a secret."

I shook my head, "No, it wasn't," as I held up both hands in a "V" for victory, then put them together like a pair of scissors. She made a face. Then to cheer her I said, "I have to say, you have it good... good taste too." She brightened considerably.

I kind of felt I was helping Chica just by being there, it was more teamwork.

When he noticed my interest in the proceedings he added some comments about what Chica was doing. "It is a matter of taste, of course, but working the tip like that works for me, but not the drummer, he likes the tongue-work on the bottom. Just something you might want to know... if you have to... pick... somebody." He had chosen our word.

I said I would keep that in mind when I "picked" somebody next time.

"Maybe a drummer?" he said hopefully.

"Well, they do get more than their share of the girls..." I agreed. "So better odds?"

During the process we also looked at some of the scenes around the 'audition' area. We could see Kitty who was working her brother combo in an especially disgusting display of agility. She was not using her mouth, she had them both at the other end and was suspended, her feet were off the ground. I was not sure just how or what holes, and I shudder to speculate. With her and the way all three were moving, having them both share either body portal seemed possible.

One of the professional groups also stripped but they avoided the guys. Instead they did a lesbian show with four girls doing each other while the backstage assembly watched. It was very "witchy" in mood. They were so good the band was okay with their "look but don't touch," vibe.

After the last guy was done in the shower the scene switched from general grab ass and kidding around to more organized full-on sexual stuff. With 5 guys in the band plus Phil and 15 stripped-down girls - well, you can do the math. Nobody in the band was modest, and I was the only female hiding my goodies. I could see guys still making sure that Rita's magnificent tits were real, and feeling her pussy and ass just because they came to the party; she looked good getting off on it. As I watched she got off very quickly.

I could see blow jobs and fucking out in the open. Chica blew Phil while he was feeling my tits, even when we ran out of conversation I didn't feel I could say "stop it."

My new friend explained some of the rules for the weekend party. Each band member had a naked girl on call at all times (sharing was allowed) plus there were alternates and a Queen to attend, she trumped all. They used them all in a variety of sexual ways. It was disgusting, but I could not turn away.

Finally Chica got the messy facial finish she insisted on, pressing Phil's balls against her round lovely tits as he sprayed her face. When it was all over she gave Phil a VERY sloppy kiss, asked if I wanted some ("NO!"), then licked the transfer off his face like it was honey. Clearly she had done this all before. She told me later that a facial discouraged random ambush kissing, which was not her thing.

I became uncomfortable then, watching her licking his face felt like an invasion of Chica's privacy, even if the blow-job didn't. Maybe it was because I had kissed him. Also, his hands went to her tits and ass, which were uncovered and messy with cum. His fingers entered her body and handled her like slut-meat, not with the praise like he handled me. As I stepped away I saw a second finger slide into her ass. She giggled and promised it was his for lots of fun later. Even looking at his softening cock, comparing the stick to the hole, that looked like a very painful idea. Butt what did I know?

He wanted to say something as I walked away, so I said, "Maybe I'll... pick... you later." He got this confused look, happy and sad both shining through. Yeah, maybe the ice pick thing was too much. But I did walk away.

Then he broke Chica's lip-lock and said to me, "What a way to go." I could see the lines of slobber from his lips to her's as he spoke. Her saliva or his cum, I could not tell. Maybe both? Gross!

-

Chapter 7. Heartbreaker

I became uncomfortable with the way other's were looking at me so I excused myself. Rearranging my cape and bodysuit I left the backstage area and just went out dancing with everyone else. I caught about 30 or 40 minutes of StarPlayers and had fun dancing. In two cases, these girls wearing bee-themed outfits joined me dancing. The Bees had been another dance group, a really good one at dancing but they did not make the finals because their bee costumes were so NOT hot compared to ours. Still, they seemed friendly and I had some fun with them.

When StarPlayers finished Night Scythe came out again for their second set, which would last an hour. Rita also came out (redressed) and we danced together for most of that; she said that both Chica and Kitty had "made the cut" and were invited into the bus for the post-concert party, which would continue the debauchery until Monday morning. In all, eight hetro girls were picked, one for each band guy including Phil, and fill-in, plus the unanimous Chica who would be Queen of the party and get her choice of guys and girls all weekend. There were also two of the lesbians who made the cut as "living artwork." Rita was offered an ad hoc special utility spot, with the provision that she would go both ways, doing the lesbians, filling in with all the guys, plus doing any other girl who was willing.

She declined. She said eating Chica and Kitty while they were dripping would be too much like incest. "This Southern girl has to draw the line someplace, and going lesbian with my dripping house-sisters seems a step too far. I admit, it is a pretty long step... maybe I would do either in private, but not both in public with the animals watching for inspiration."

A girl has to have standards. I knew Rita had gone both ways before.

I agreed with her and said, "besides, none of those guys is going to settle down with you. They were patterned after Night Ranger. Did you know Night Ranger is still touring in Japan?" Her face said she didn't get that reference, but didn't really care either. She did mention that the band had secured a supply of Peruvian Marching Powder and a large bottle of blue pills which would be used to keep the sex going. I was not curious about the Peruvian powder, on that basis I was fine missing the party.

When Rita came out we were both still in a very sex-charged mood, aroused. On the first slow song it seemed entirely natural for us to embrace and dance together. We felt good. At the end it felt natural to share a kiss, and a mutual touch of tongue slipped into that kiss. (My second tongue-touch EVER! First with a girl! Well, Rita was tall, that helped the self-image thing. It was all the mood of the night.) The kiss just lasted a moment, and we were not upset about it. I guess, when it was over, we were a little closer. I liked that.

While we were dancing to Night Scythe there were a few times when guys asked to join us. We were pretty open to it, but we didn't let anybody repeat, and we kept the slow dances for ourselves. Those were nice, I did not care who saw me dancing slow with Rita. We were not the only girl-girl couple.

Towards the end there was one 'grinding' song where the 4 guys from another dance group (really dumb costumes - the sign said "Dumb and Dumber") split up so 2 of them sandwiched each of us. I think Chica might have orchestrated that, because it was the only grinding song which Scythe played, and she watched us (she was barely covered) the whole time. I had never done anything like that, this was in public, right in front of the stage, and they were grinding on me and Rita pretty good. (I copied her, Rita was loving it.) Their hands were constantly moving all over us, feeling us up like we were inviting it. Which, looking at our ravaged costumes, we kind of were. Hands visited under the my top, but they did not get far. It seemed to be the custom that the hands did not ever stop, which otherwise made it okay for me. Everybody was watching us and we got cheered when it was over. Of course, when it was done the guys wanted to take our sweaty selves home for some naked grinding, but we were very firm about not doing that. Spotlights on the group - Chica's doing again - stopped it from going further.

In what was supposed to be the third-from-last song to close of their set - and the concert - the band started to play a modern, very energetic version of "(You Can Still) Rock In America" which was a Night Ranger song they really rocked out on.

This was not what they had listed, but they had some extra time and the energy of the band was special so they had to do it. It ignited the dance floor, it was that type of music. Then in a smooth musical move they tacked their ending of "Hells Belles" and turned a bunch of spotlights on Rita and me. We were caught up in the mood so we really rocked it, dancing like we didn't care that everyone was watching. Believe me, EVERYBODY was watching. Our ripped body suits did not have bras so our girls jumped around and were pointing shamelessly. Rita's might have slipped out for some momentary exposure a few times. If I am being honest I might have also slipped a nip once or twice.

Right after that song ended the singer said that "Rock In America" always killed his voice, but they had a fix, in a dramatic voice he explained that something in the dance contest "Finale" (everybody knew he meant Rita's topless flash) had roused "one of the Ancient Spirits, an original burning Spirit of Rock and Roll" to manifest in our presence, inhabiting their most worthy, so everyone was in for a treat. Even the guys from "StarPlayers" were on stage, cheering and applauding.

Phil, the guy I talked to, walked up to the microphone with his bass.

He was ready to preach. "Boy and girls, you know I have been around awhile. At 17 I toured with Lightning Jackson." There were cheers from people who were not alive back then. "Then came Steeple and Jackstraw." That got more cheers, as those were his biggest hits. "When we broke up there were other tours, I was picked by the Lord Demon Tongue himself, Gene Simmons of Kiss to play for Doro on the Queen of Heavy Metal tour. That was the best, purely every night she gave her all. He gave me this Demon's Scream bass guitar to help me keep up, no guitar made by man would do! Doro gave her heart to the music each night - she is married to her music and every night is a honeymoon. Every night we rocked with epic fury. After that it was all downhill. The lowest was when I stupidly signed for the Asshole's solo tour. I won't say his name but it is spelled A - X - L. Jackstraw toured for a fast burn that was hot before they burned out. Then I put together these boys." More cheers, they clearly were the favorite.

Then his tone changed, he was serious and off-script, speaking from the heart. "Through it all I confess I was a heartbreaker, using women, making them show me they loved me, then moving on before the sun. But tonight folks... tonight I learned the oh so bitter other side. Backstage a sweet little girl, a girl a generation or more younger than me, but with a spirit older than time, gave it all back with interest. She told me the truth, she was a serial killer, and fool that I am, I didn't believe her. But when she finally turned and left me I found it was my heart she killed... she put a cold pick of the Devil's ice right through... so smooth and straight I didn't even know until after, while I was getting a BJ from a dear friend. I'm on life support now, I stand here only because I am infused with the Ancient Spirit, sustained by all of you... but it will end soon. I am only granted this time to serve the spirits with a final offering. I bow to the wise child-woman in the body of my favorite fallen angel, who warmed my soul then iced my heart before she vanished."

I admit I was stunned.

With that the band broke into a almost reverent first verse of "Sister Christian." It was the only name I gave him. At the change the music speeded up as the song blended seamlessly into "Don't Tell Me You Love Me," then they weaved through both songs for a long number. It was a thing of beauty. Phil sang the vocals and I swear his voice was 20 years younger, strong and powerful, conjuring spirits while he kept giving me longing looks.

His fingers on the guitar strings... it was magical, like liquid silver making each note perfect.

The song was amazing, something unforgettable. This was not something thrown together, the number was well constructed with changes, seamless and wonderful, even if the music was older than most of the band and the audience. Good stuff captured them completely.

At the end Phil said they had not done the number for years, the arrangement was from his previous group and they played it only once, at their first live act, and in fact it was what got them the gig. Well, we all knew about the plane crash.

Needless to say, I was in shock the entire time Phil was onstage, delivering his sermon.

With that Phil stepped back and diminished, as if the Spirit left him. The second guitar - now a third bass - took the mic (Phil and the lead singer were both hoarse) and the group went straight to their long rocking encore with "Dead Man's Party." The ultimate Halloween number. Well, it was Halloween and the song had a Wisconsin connection - it is the love theme from the movie "Back To School" which was a University film shot partially in Madison.

Since the concert was on university property there was a hard deadline to end the show and they just made it.

-

Chapter 8. After

As we walked home Rita told me what I missed backstage after I left - besides damning my eyes as well as my soul. She said that as a finalist she had been fucked by two band members; they were swapping girls rapid-fire ("so everybody got a fair shot at performing") and both finished in other girls. She had spent some time kissing, sucking and being fondled by two other band members, and that in between the two fucks some of the lesbian girls had recruited her as a toy for them to pleasure for their audience. Rita really liked that. The tiny-tits squad went crazy on Rita's D-cups - which I guess felt pretty good - and her 'open to the ladies' vibe. ("Been there," she said, "they did it ALL," she said with a smile at the memory.) As I mentioned, two of those lesbians were invited to the after-party, strictly to provide visual stimulation based on what they did with Rita. And to serve Chica as Queen in ways I shudder to contemplate.

Basically Rita had tried her best, but she didn't make the cut "as a primary" to sleep with one of the band guys, and going as an 'extra fill-in' moving from bed to bed would have depressed her for most of the weekend.

Chica and Kitty were shoe-ins because of their connections, but they still put out like champs backstage because they fucking liked it. At the end of the break the plucky pair had even done a double penetration contest with the band on a raised platform with a spotlight. Rita said it was disgustingly beautiful as well as totally lewd and utterly repulsive. It ended - she did not want to say it - with each girl doing a swap ATM. "YUCK!"

Is there a greater trust between roommates?

When we were a block from the house I got a text from Chip, he was leaving the client-party and was on his way home.

I replied that I was with Rita and was a block from my house, we would be home before he passed by on the way home. I said I had a good time but we were all beat so we would talk later. He texted back that he loved me, but it might have been the wine because one of the critical words was misspelled.

When we got home the house felt empty because it was. That depressed Rita more. In her mood of the moment Rita asked not to sleep alone in her room, she was willing to make a "nest" on my floor. Well, my bed was big enough for two if we cuddled, so I asked her if she had sleepover in high school (I never did). She said they had lots, she giggled that some were even co-ed and all were naked. But that was Florida weather. When I gave that a look she said, "we had a tight group and knew each other, so sometimes it happened. Other times we picked guys who were cool keeping it G-rated, we paired up and had things friendly without making a mess... thanks to the gods of Kleenex."

The upshot was that I invited her into my bed. We had flannel PJs (duh - November 1 in Wisconsin) and talked.

When the talk got emotional we hugged, and we held hands a bit. She had been widowed early and had a son she missed. All my emotion from Phil suddenly washed over me. Our tops opened from the warmth and we cuddled closer. We both felt so good. At one emotional moment there was another kiss that went longer and deeper, becoming passionate because of the moment, but that was all. The spell was broken.

She did mention that she had fucked Phil after I left, she had not told me earlier but it seemed Chica pointed him at her while mentioning me. He fucked her, and said he really loved her tits, but he he was going through the motions and seemed depressed underneath. Distracted.

Rita said, "Girl, you have to know, that man wanted you BAD! I have never had a guy who was so distracted by somebody else - who was not even there - when he got off. He was in me, inside my body doing me real nice, but his head was all yours. That was my first time ever where a guy's head wasn't mine when he came! After we were done, he asked me to give you his card. I said it wasn't going to work, that you were spoken for by an especially handsome devil I could not get to first base with. I held up my tits to make the point that Chip is really hooked, "he turned these down." Phil gave me a look like I slapped him. Then he said something about how maybe he could 'pray for the sacrifice to be called because of rain' or something. It was pure desperation fueled by hope. I dare say, you broke that old rocker's heart into little pieces and were damn quick about it. Faster than I or Chica ever were."

So of course I had to explain everything about Phil feeling me up, licking my nipples, the serial killer/virgin sacrifice, and our talking over Chica's BJ. We both howled with laughter at the way I ended things while his cum was all over Chica's and his face, it was a great end for the night.

She said that he had mentioned that he licked me, on the "sacred nipples."

"You should know he did not do that with groupies, he just didn't... not even with ME! It was too intimate."

-

We had won $275 each ($500 + $500 + $100 ÷ 4) for the dance, dance-off and costume contests. I know Rita was still short in terms of getting home to Florida for Christmas so the next morning I gave her $125 of my winnings "to buy a gift for her son" from his "Secret Special Aunt." I can't descibe how happy it made her, she glowed. It was exactly what she needed, she made the reservations early the next morning and then called her son with the good news. After that she hugged me tight and kissed me yet again - a different, 'so happy' type of kiss from her little one to "Saint Auntie."

I can't describe how making her happy had the biggest effect of the weekend on me. In all, the weekend changed us from friends to something better.

-

Chapter 9. The DVD

Week After Halloween

After the weekend, when the girls were back Chica grabbed me for a moment. She said that she was also really impressed at how I stole Phil's heart. "He NEVER plays that mixed number, with his old group he always dedicated it to his Mother, she died too young. His Dad was a roadie for the Night Ranger and his Mother was a general sextoy on tour. She put-out with everyone in the band, plus everybody in the opening act, plus everybody else on the tour, including roadies. Multiple guys every day, it was her job. They both quit when she got knocked up with Phil. But Phil's dad always thought it was the bassist. She never said who the real father was. Whatever you talked about, it went straight to his heart - and ripped it out. I know he wanted you to join us, but you would have monopolized him, so I guess I am saying 'thanks' for not joining us. He fucked my ass so good... three times! Except he was bummed or drunk all weekend, even when he was reaming my tight little butt like a fucking demon on coke. Fuck, that was the pleasure and the pain combined so good. Anyway, he gave this to me to give to you. He said it was ONLY for you - there were no copies."

The DVD was a recording of the entire concert, including the last song. There were close-ups of me, including the grinding. I saw how I cried when they played Phil's "Sister Christian/Don't Tell Me" number.

Plus, whenever I need cheering up, it is hard to beat their "Dead Man's Party."

I had no regrets, and in fact I enjoyed exactly what I did; no more, no less. I used the rest of the weekend to study, I had a lot to catch up on. But there were a couple of times when I teared up... maybe it was Geology... thinking of old rocks and ancient rockers... Even in this new young century, "You can still Rock In America."

Yes, I used that line in Geology class, the Prof was at the concert and gave me the semester's prize - an impressive thunderegg - for that using that line when I answered a question in class. After class he said he was very impressed with my dances, both the exhibition that won the contest and the individual free-form after.

He didn't mention the nip slips, it would not be PC, but we both knew what he saw. We were both happy with it. I guess that was worth the thunderegg.

-

Tuesday after class I told Chip about the whole thing, what I had done, seen and heard about. I even talked about Rita, the kissing and sleeping topless with her. I thought he might get upset about the kissing, either Phil on my nipples or Rita's lips on mine, but he was cool. He said if I wanted to try, then why not? "Humans are NOT exclusive by nature. We experiment, that is what led to face-to-face sex and kissing. They say women are exclusive, but it is more complex than that. That statement is just a hope some have about fathers, sons and passing down wealth. It might be different if you had a ring, but not now. I could not be upset if I wanted to be."

That got me to thinking, so I asked, "What if we were exclusive?"

That stopped him for a moment, his face said that he had considered the same question, but was scared of his answer.

"Well, we aren't, we have not talked about if we can be. But I admit to the thought. If we were, and you felt like you wanted to, ask yourself, why would I object? I mean that as a serious question, why object? Exclusive couples - and defining exclusivity is itself a long discussion - but in any case we do not give up curiosity, that is why we get to know each other before we take vows. 'Getting to know' is important, even critical, to both parties, so the problem would be in restricting a person's natural curiosity. Humans are naturally curious so that is an invitation to disaster. The responsibility falls on both parties to make sure that is not an issue for the other. They have to agree on reasonable limits."

It took some time, and some very intense experiences, but I realized that was one of the wisest ideas about dating I had ever heard. Also the most mature.

I lent him the DVD for a couple of nights. He was greatly entertained by all of it, the dance contest, everything with Phil, and then everything with Rita afterward. We had to continued the talk in his room, it got us making out there for the first time with my top off. Why was I horny from telling him this stuff about sex and others? I don't know, but I was.

It was curious. Duh!

He loved to hear the tiny details, especially the ones about me and what the guys (Phil and the grinders) had done with me, turning me on, building excitement and memories. He talked like it was a positive memory I had built, a good thing. I started talking in more detail about the backstage stuff, where Phil was feeling me up while bare-ass sloppy Chica blew him. I said the guy's hands passed over my tits and ass, but once Chica started they were pretty much tit-oriented; he felt me up good while getting off.

He rephrased that, saying "he felt good while getting off with her." He said it like Chica was just another Kleenex.

For some reason, I kept waiting for him to get upset. It was a "back of my mind" thing, but I was sure it would happen. Didn't all guys blow up?

It didn't happen.

Instead Chip lauded me, saying I had real nice tits (he should know) and wanted to hear more about that. I kept trying to explain, but finally I had to show him. Somehow, clothing got in the way so I removed it. (At this point I always wore good panties when I saw Chip... assuming I wore any panties.)

Cheeky bastard, I think "showing" is what he wanted all along. Damn, it was so nice to feel his hands on my body. Better to feel his lips. Then his tongue... words are not enough.

At the end, when he licked my tits real good for about 30 minutes, I almost had a climax - it would have been my first that way.

I talked about Chica coming over to us already well-used, naked and dripping cum, like that was normal. He knew her by name and what she looked like, one morning a year or two ago she spent the night in the next room and used the common bathroom and shower when needed. Yes, she was attractive in a way.

He asked me how I felt about seeing that, but since I knew she had already been with the guy I did not have a problem with it. Then he asked what I would have felt if he had been there instead of the band manager, seeing Chica "used and receptive for more" while I was with him.

I had to think about that. I realized it was the first time we had implied a connection between us that was not tied to the class or transitory in some other way. As if making out wasn't. As I thought of it, the implication went both ways, I started it by the way I talked about things.

He did point out we were free agents so he would have no grounds to object if I did more. Everything more. Before I thought I blurted out, "I don't want to be free agents."

Well, we had a talk about that. He was cool, and said he liked what he found in me enough so he wasn't looking at anyone else. He had put away his little black book, but he was not going to have me commit as exclusive just yet. "Getting to know is not limited to the other person, you have to know yourself pretty good too." I was in my panties at the time, and the back was pulled down to show my buns. I could still feel his kisses on my cheeks. In the back of my mind I did not think guys backed off from that point, not ever. But I knew I had not decided in my own mind to go the next step, and Chip knew I didn't know. Still, I felt like all was cool and natural. Instead of making a move he implied that maybe Christmas break, or soon after, would be a "test of our feelings" for both of us.

Thinking of my roommates, I answered his question about Chica. "You know, it is just the type of thing Chica might do, if the chance arose and she saw you with me. She is provocative, always trying to steal guys to use and then discard; if she knew what a future you had, she would try even harder. Rita says the others are the same way, including herself. But maybe that has changed. Or not."

Chip reassured me. "Chica, clean or well used, holds no special appeal for me. Yes, she is attractive, and men are attracted to bright shiny things, that will not change. But I know she is not what interests me anymore. Rita is honest and up front, it's the way she was raised, you can trust that about her. You never have to worry about me with Chica or Kitty or any of them. I know what type of girls they are, and believe me, I have no interest in even making contact without little Chip in a haz-mat suit."

That was quite an image to think about.

"Well, you did have coffee with Rita..."

"Yes, in a public place, getting a read on her, because she is your friend. It was pretty clear that she knew more about you than the other girls; it followed that she was closer to you. She can't help being your friend, even if it detracts from her short term goals. I can't say I trust her motives, because she is always in conflict. But she is not like the others."

"So, did she make a play for you or not? I really can't tell."

"Oh, I am sure she would have, but I cut her off. Her desperation and age... I think she needs to do her fishing in another pond, like a night class at a voc-tech."

His use of the words "fishing" and "pond" struck me, I filed it away before I jumped to defend Rita. "Settling for lower expectations? She doesn't deserve a college guy?"

"Better to call it investing time into realistic goals. Efficiency. If she has a kid... that is a guess, I don't really know; but she has to know that would be a deal breaker even if she found somebody here who could overlook the age thing. Why waste the time?"

Then he went back to asking about the party. "Look, I know how you are. But could you ever see yourself being like Chica was? Let us say they were guys you knew and liked? Guys you had been with? Guys who respected you? Just for one night?"

I answered right away, I did not have to think about it. "No! Not going from one guy to another and not showing myself that way no matter what."

That is what I said, because that is what I thought I should be. That was how I was brought up as Daddy's Good Girl.

But I wasn't Daddy's Good Girl any more, not in my heart. I was a woman actively looking for a man to be naked and sweaty with. As soon as I said the words I realized I did not want to think about it, because if I did I might see something I didn't want to see, because it was very freeing being me that Halloween night. Plus, I had never been with a guy, what would I feel if I had been with several? Someday I might. Then I might get curious about other guys.

What really bothered me was that I think Chip knew what I was thinking about the things I didn't want to think about. He knew my answer was premature. He was too damn smart about me.

As I walked home after that talk, thinking about his question, I realized I had skipped over the tongue part of the kisses I shared with Rita. I wondered why I had not talked about it, and I was still thinking about it when I fell asleep. Silly me, I dreamed about things going farther - with both of them!

Fuck, it was hot for November. I almost got out the Magic Wand. I almost didn't care if others heard me.

-

The next time I saw Chip he had another surprise for me as he handed the disk back. "Did you know there is a secret file on that disk?"

That sounded fishy to me so he explained. "The file can only be viewed from a computer, a DVD player won't see it. Apparently this Phil guy had somebody with a high power lens tracking him backstage, everything he did. The whole time with you is captured on the file. Also there is a second file, of you dancing. It is long range, and the darkness is a pain, but it is all there."

In his room he showed me how to view the files. He left while I watched it. It had everything. Bare nipples touched by a tongue.

Then we talked. "Did you watch it all?" I asked him.

"It was not that long, so yes. The subject was interesting to me."

"Didn't it seem like something private? Something I might not want you to see?" I was trying to find some moral high ground.

"You gave me the disk to watch. I watched. How was I to know that?"

Well, there went my moral high ground. I thought he would dump me but he was pretty clear, what he saw did not change what he thought. Not a thing. He still liked me as a person and a person, make that THE person, I almost went all the way with him.

But now we had more the think about in terms of the whole 'exclusivity' thing.

Chip had played the short game with girls, where guys want to feel good inside for a moment, until the next one comes along. Now he was looking to play the long term game, the last girl game, playing the tune of "until death do us part."

Was I ready for that?

-