On the limo ride over, I nodded and laughed at the right points to keep up appearances as my mind whirled with images of Steph, nude on Sarah's bed, writhing around in pleasure as Sarah's tongue danced over her clit. I cursed Rachel's prom, wishing I was at home, where I might have the chance to see their lust from my bathroom window. Would I be able to hear Steph's erotic short-short-long moan when she finally came on my redheaded goddess' face?
In retrospect I recognize that I was a truly awful prom date. Rachel and her friends did their best to convince me to have a good time, but my mind was elsewhere. I fulfilled all my prom date obligations, but in a very clinical manner. Even during slow dances, I couldn't think about Rachel's two, extra large breasts pressed tight against my chest, because I was too preoccupied with the four breasts no doubt being pressed together right then back home.
Returning to her friend's house after the dance, we changed into more comfortable clothes. The big backyard was littered with pre-arranged tents, where the crew would continue the festivities and ultimately spend the night. There were a decent number of tents, but the yard was large enough that no two were placed uncomfortably close to each other.
I had not intended to stay the evening, but I wanted to be polite, so I hung out for a while as everyone gathered around a roaring fire pit to chat and laugh, and drink some smuggled booze. As we chatted, Rachel pulled in close to my side, but I paid it no mind, as there was a slight chill in the air, despite the flames.
We all talked, but I couldn't tell you what was said. My mind was permanently affixed to running a continuous cycle of all the erotic scenarios that might be playing out at Sarah's house. Wet pussies spasming on fingers, hands gripping fistfuls of hair in climax...God, I wonder if Sarah has any toys. Was Steph over there right now wetting a thick dildo with her mouth right before she eased it into Sarah's cunt? For the first time in who knows how many days, I felt a tightness in my pants.
I needed to get up and walk around before anyone noticed, so I decided to head off to the bathroom. As I got up, Rachel popped up as well, saying she also had to go, and would walk with me. Heading back toward the house, we passed through the small city of tents. From one tent to my left I heard low, indistinct chatter, followed by a sudden intake of breath, and what sounded like a moan. I paused, but felt Rachel's hand on mine pulling me back on track toward the house.
We chatted innocuously as we walked, my mind on the sapphic exhibition no doubt unfolding next door to my house, but was brought back to the moment as Rachel ascended the stairs in front of me. She wore a purple zip-up hoodie and shorts, and only now, as her stepping legs flared out her generous ass with each bend did I realize exactly how short they were. They hung loose, but barely fell past the bottom scoop of her cheeks, and pulled nice and tight across them as she climbed the stairs.
As I waited for her to return from the bathroom, I realized I had never seen her in something like this before--something so comfortable and revealing--she was always proper and appropriate at any church function. I thought back to her prom dress--modest, but accenting the flare of her hips, and provided anyone close enough, say slow dance close, a tantalizing view of her considerable cleavage. I thought about the fun, lively, and sometimes raunchy manner in which she joked and celebrated with her friends. I thought about the pictures she sent me, about how she put those humongous breasts of hers on display, nipples painfully erect. I realized I didn't know a damn thing about this girl--about who she actually was. I knew her from church, and from our online conversations, which is hardly enough to know who someone is; to know what they're capable of.
As we started back toward the fire, the light rain dusting us as we walked, I decided it was time for me to go.
"Hey, I think I'm gonna get going, '' I said. Rachel stopped a few steps ahead of me.
"Are you sure?" she asked, closing the distance between us. I was prepared to answer in the affirmative, but right as the words formed in my mouth the sky opened up.
"Oh my God!" she shrieked as sheets of rain started down. She grabbed my wrist and pulled as she dragged me towards the nearest tent. Quickly working the zipper, we both tumbled in, safe from the rain, and no more the worse for wear.
"That was crazy, it just came out of nowhere!" She squeaked, the both of us laughing as she clicked on a nearby lantern, bathing us both in a dim, orange light. "You have to at least wait until the rain lets up," she insisted. It was warm in the tent, and a big, thick sleeping bag was laid out, with nice pillows around to lounge on--it wasn't the worst place to wait out a rain storm.
We sat in a thick silence as our breath returned to normal. Not the largest tent in the world, we were huddled fairly close. The zipper on her hoodie was let down a bit, allowing me to see the glistening flat of her chest, and just the slightest hint of cleavage.
"Hey, do you remember the camping trips we used to go on with church?" she finally said, breaking the silence."
"Sure," I said timidly.
"Do you remember the backrubs we used to give each other?" She asked, a slight smile on her lips.
"Sure," I said again, thinking back to the few times I had run my hands over the neck and back of a real woman in a chaste ritual that occupied the hormonal instincts of horny teens bound by the virtuous demands of religion.
"Well I've had this kink in my neck," she said, turning her back to me, "and I was wondering if maybe you'd give me one." She lifted her long strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, turning back over her shoulder to glance at me.
"Sure," I said once again - it was the only word I seemed to remember. at that moment my mouth started to go dry.
"Great!" She exclaimed, and shimmied her plump ass back between my legs, only stopping when our bodies touched.
Fantasies of Steph and Sarah started to fade from my mind as I focused on the very real situation, the very real girl, in front of me. As I felt her ass pressed up against my cock I still tried to rationalize what was going on. Surely all she wanted was a neck rub, nothing more, just like we used to do, right?
I put my hands on her shoulders and started to rub, a slight moan escaping her lips as I did so. Working my way inward toward her neck, but the hood of her sweatshirt made it tough to make any actual progress.
"I'm, uh, not sure how good I can really get in there with this hood in the way," I choked out.
I heard the slight buzz of a descending zipper, and with a slight shrug and a shimmy, she slipped the sweatshirt down over the crests of her bare shoulders.
"How's this?" She breathed.
"Yeah...that works" I practically whispered. I ran my hands over the warm, exposed skin, traveling toward her neck and noticed something: My hands never touched fabric. There was no shirt underneath her hoodie...no bra straps either. Beneath this hooded sweatshirt was nothing but the bare skin of her body..
My cock started to swell.
Her back arched, pressing her ass into me further.
I rubbed the nape of her neck, eliciting a soft moan of approval. My hands glided over her skin from the tips of her shoulders up the swoop of her neck and down again. Her plump breasts remained covered by the hoodie, but left her upper chest nude to the night air. Rocking my hands forward on the downstroke, my fingers brushed across the ridges of her collarbone, my mind once again taking note that there were no shirts, no straps, only flesh. A pulse shot through my stiffening cock.
Her ass shifted against it.
"Mmm, that feels nice," she cooed, relaxing into me further. She was practically reclining into me now, and I could peer over her shoulders, down her exposed chest, and into the cleavage peeking out from her unzipped sweatshirt. On every breath in, her massive mammaries would pull the shirt tighter across them as they rose up slowly, before sinking back down with breath out. It was hypnotic.
"Do you remember the last time we did this?" She asked with a playfulness in her tone.
"Yes," I managed to squeak out. I sure remembered. We had never done THIS before, but the last time I had my hands on her neck and shoulders was at a church camping trip. THE church camping trip. The one I had confessed about to Tara during one of our Truth or Dare games. It was a moment I would never forget, one forever branded with teenage embarrassment. Hormones racing through my body, my hands touching a real life girl, it all became too much, and right there at that church camping trip, as Rachel gave a soft, pleasurable moan and put one hand on my leg, my cock exploded in my pants. I ended the massage abruptly, and ran off back to my tent in search of new pants. It was not my finest moment.
