Becky & Lisa: The End of Summer

"Oh, she's not my girlfriend," I said, without hesitation.

His eyes lit up. "Oh really...? Maybe she'd like my number then?"

I felt hot jealousy well up inside me. "No! N-no... What I mean is, she's not my girlfriend yet. But we're on a date. Yes. This is a date. She's with me. On a date."

He looked disappointed then, but he stopped pursuing the matter.

The guys bade us farewell. "Enjoy the rest of your date!" the tattooed lad called after us.

"What did he mean by that?" Becky asked, confused.

"Nothing!" I blushed and hurried her away. "Nothing at all!"

–

PART 2: PARTY HARD

Why had I told that guy that Becky was my date?

Why had I felt so jealous at the thought of someone other than myself getting to know Becky?

I'd never before felt animosity towards anyone in Becky's love life. She was a lovely-looking girl and got a lot of attention from guys, and although we were both currently single, she'd had more boyfriends than I'd had during our lifetimes. Sure, some turned out to be jerks, and some I suspected were jerks to start with and ended up being proved right. But some had been nice guys and I'd enjoyed seeing my friend happy with a new lad, just as she had enjoyed seeing the times a partner had made me happy.

But now, suddenly, I was experiencing jealousy. I didn't want to share Becky.

In particular, I didn't want to share Naked Becky.

I don't know if I have mentioned this before, but Becky isn't as forthcoming and open about her exhibitionism with our other friends as she is with me. Sure, some of them have seen her strip off occasionally for one reason or another – but the real, true exhibitionist side to her only comes out when she is with me, and only me. Becky the nudist, Becky the exhibitionist, is someone only I know, and I suppose that makes me feel special, even without the complicating factor of my growing attraction to her. Heck, that might be one of the reasons I feel the way I do about her!

Why did she choose me, out of all our friends, to be her confidant and companion in her naked adventures? Well, I was there from the beginning, there when we were little girls and Becky first ran around the streets of our village in the nude. But more than that, I think she just saw in me someone who would love her despite this weird passion, someone who wouldn't judge or criticise or run and tell and spoil her fun. Becky is still a teenage girl, I told myself, and like all teenage girls we fear the judgement of our peers. Perhaps I was the only friend she trusted to share her naked side with because I was the only one she felt confident wouldn't brand her a weirdo or a pervert for it.

At least, that was what I told myself – although one night towards the end of our summer, I found myself questioning this assumption, as Becky did something bold even by her standards.

We were all of a week away from leaving home to go to university. Our exams were ancient history and we'd both won the grades we wanted. Becky and I weren't off to the same university, but we promised to stay in touch, visit each other often, and see each other as much as possible when we were home.

As well as being the run-up to starting university, that week was also the week of Becky's 19th birthday. So, as a farewell gesture-cum-celebration, Becky's mum ceded us her house for a night, so Becky could host a small gathering of our friends.

It wasn't a party. Alright, there was drinking and music and more drinking, but it wasn't a PARTY party. There would be only somewhere around 10 of us, just our closest friends and their boyfriends and girlfriends. It might get messy or loud but it wasn't going to be one of those crazy house parties where everyone in school turns up and trashes the neighbourhood.

The day of the party came, and I was the first to arrive, helping Becky set up and get sorted. There was an assortment of alcohol, plenty of snacks, music on the go, and a house devoid of parents – all we needed. We waited excitedly for the guests to arrive. Well, I waited excitedly. Becky seemed very nervous and quite agitated, she sat on the sofa bouncing her leg up and down and fidgeting with her hair.

As the expected arrival time of our friends drew near, she suddenly jumped up.

"I've got to go get ready," she declared, her face flushed.

"Everyone will be here in a minute!" I objected. "You look fine! What have you got left to do?"

But Becky ignored my question. "Just look after everyone, I'll be down soon!" And with that she sped upstairs.

Well, I wasn't sure what to make of that at all. Something was obviously up and, with hindsight, I really should have suspected more. But it wasn't more than 2 minutes before the first, main group of our friends arrived and I busied myself with letting them in, showing them where the drinks were, and generally making them feel at home.

You know, all the stuff Becky should be doing as it was her house.

Fortunately, after a few minutes Becky came downstairs.

Unfortunately, it was one of those moments where, if there was a DJ, there would have been a record scratch – followed by a stunned silence. Maybe someone would have dropped a drink (fortunately they didn't, or I would probably have ended up cleaning it up).

Becky was, as you are probably expecting by now if you've read enough of these, completely naked.

She at least, this time, had the good grace to look embarrassed about it. But her blushes were nothing compared to the open-mouthed shock I was experiencing. I looked over our friends. They were similarly shocked, with a bit of nervous giggling from some of the girls, and furious looks from some of the others (those with boyfriends, who were alternately looking sheepishly at the floor or hungrily drinking in the sight of Becky's completely exposed form).

Becky stood there for a moment. I could tell she was far more nervous than her usual confident-about-being-naked self – she was really fighting the urge to run back upstairs. She gave a weak smile and a little, sheepish wave.

"Um," she said, "hi everyone."

There was no reply.

"Um," she continued. "You're probably wondering why I'm not wearing any clothes? Well," she said after a pause, "it's my birthday, and so I thought the best outfit to wear would be my birthday suit!"

She giggled nervously. A few of us did likewise. But it didn't seem like everyone thought that was a good enough explanation – I know I didn't!

"Look," Becky continued after a moment, "the truth is, this is me. This is who I am. This is how I'm most comfortable and how I am happiest. I know that might shock some of you – although to be honest I think all of you have seen me with my kit off at some point in the past few years – but please don't think I am doing this for shock value. The fact is, this is the last time we will all be together for a while – we're all going off to uni soon in different parts of the country – and I just wanted to enjoy this time in the best way I could. And I wanted it to be pretty memorable!

"If anyone would rather I put my clothes back on, please say and I will, but otherwise I will be staying this way tonight and enjoying myself with the rest of you."

Well, would you believe there were no objections? Of course, none of the boys were going to tell Becky to get dressed, not with a body like hers! But surprisingly none of the girls did either. I guess Becky's little speech won them over?

After that, Becky herself greeted the remaining guests as they arrived. They were, of course, very surprised to see her naked, but as with our friends already at the party, they gave no objection to her staying that way when she offered the same explanation. That explanation, clumsy and hurried though it was, seemed to answer the question "why are you naked?" to everyone's satisfaction.

Everyone, that is, except me.

A while into the party, I cornered Becky in the kitchen. I was not a happy bunny.

Of course, now I can take a step back from all of this, I can look at how I was feeling and say that I was jealous, and felt slighted. I felt this way because Becky being a nudist, an exhibitionist, an all round likes-to-be-naked person, had been the secret she had previously only shared with me, and that had been something that had made me feel special, trusted, even loved. But now she had just stood up, in the altogether, in front of a group of our friends, and announced to them that Naked Becky was her true self. I had known it all along, of course, but I was no longer the only person who knew it. And, perhaps selfishly, I had wanted it to continue to be me and only me she shared that side of herself with.

But at the time I was not thinking as clearly as that. All I could think was that Becky had, once again, chosen to pull some exhibitionist stunt at her party in a way which embarrassed me and shocked me because, of course, she hadn't talked to me about it first, she'd just stripped off with no thought as to the consequences.

I said as much to her.

"What the heck do you think you are doing?" I asked hotly.

"What do you mean?" she replied. "I just explained everything out there."

"What, that stuff about wanting today to be memorable? What the heck is that supposed to mean? Memorable is getting drunk together and singing along to cheesy 80s rock and someone throwing up in the garden! You're stark bloody naked Beck! What's this really about?"

"I thought you'd understand?" she cried back. "I always thought you understood!"

That stung, but I was on my high horse now.

"All I understand is, you can't keep your clothes on for five minutes! It's stressing me out, Beck, it really is! Everywhere we go, you're stripping off!"

"You've never had a problem with it," she retorted.

"No!" I continued, "I haven't! Because you're my mate and I want you to be happy and if this is how you are happy, well great! But sometimes I think you don't show me the same consideration! Sometimes I think you like embarrassing me!"

I... maybe shouldn't have said that.

Becky looked hurt. "I embarrass you?"

Nothing like a naked girl with puppy-dog eyes to make you feel crap during an argument. The wind went out of my sails a little.

"Look... no. No, you don't. It's just... I don't know. This. All this. It's a bit too much."

"Well, should I go and put some clothes on? If you're not comfortable?"

"No, it's just... it's not that."

"Then what is it? What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know!"

That wasn't true. I knew exactly what I wanted her to do. But it would have probably shocked our party guests even more than they had been already, not to mention making a mess of the kitchen by knocking all the food off the table.

Joking aside, I felt an immense sense of frustration. I couldn't tell her! I so badly wanted to explain exactly what the problem was here – that every time she took off her clothes in front of me it was a freight train crashing through my previously-assumed heterosexuality. That I was stupidly in lust, maybe even in love, with Naked Becky, and while I probably now had similar feelings for clothed Becky also, it was possible for me to ignore and repress those feelings in the name of friendship. But seeing her free and natural and raw in her sexuality; being allowed to view something so intimate to me in a way which seemed so casual to her – it was becoming too much to bear, and I felt with every time she did something like this, I was getting closer and closer to just screaming it out – I want you. Go to bed with me. Make love to me. Love me.

But what if I did, and all it did was push her away? What if Becky didn't want what I wanted? What if it upset her that she thought being the way she was about nudity had given me signals she hadn't meant to give?

I just wasn't brave enough to come out with it. Even if it meant having rows like that.

"Well, I'm sorry," she said, her voice subdued. "Whatever it is, I'm sorry for it."

And she walked back to the rest of the party.

We didn't speak much the rest of that night. Becky flopped down on our sofa next to a couple we knew, Ben and his girlfriend Amanda. They seemed to have no problem with her nudity and were chatting and laughing and drinking together in a very friendly manner.

I wandered about the party, feeling glum and dissatisfied. I drank a bit too much and a lot of the rest of the night is a bit blurred. I do remember Becky not being around much, and then I ended up in the bathroom being sick.

I flushed the toilet and stood up unsteadily. I washed my face at the sink, and left the bathroom to go back downstairs. As I walked down the corridor, I noticed a light on in one of the far bedrooms, down in the dark end of the house. We'd decided these rooms were out of bounds to party guests, but although the door was almost closed, I could see a chink of dim light shining through.

I walked unsteadily down the corridor. I was more curious than annoyed – I wasn't going to tell them off. It wasn't my house, after all. It was Becky's, let her deal with any mess people were making in the upstairs rooms.

When I got close to the door, I stopped. Standing as close as possible, I peered through the gap.

I grinned. It was Ben, and Amanda. I could see Ben. He was naked, as was his girlfriend. She was on all fours on the bed, and he was kneeling behind her, his hips thrusting against her. He was fucking her, doggy style, strong, rhythmic movements. My own body responded to the sight – a tingle between my legs, my muscles involuntarily contracting and relaxing, in time to his movements. I had never been fucked, but I was starting to think I needed to be! Watching Ben's tight, muscular backside as he thrust in and out of Amanda, watching her push herself back against him, imagining myself receiving a man's cock in that way – made me feel that maybe I'd hung on to my virginity a little too long, that maybe a good shag was something I needed very soon.

I watched, amused and somewhat aroused. My eyes grew accustomed to the half-light of the room, and my alcohol-blurred vision began to focus again. As it did so, I realised something which caused me to catch my breath. There was a bare foot in view which didn't belong to either of the two lovers.

There was someone else in the room with Ben and Amanda!

I shifted position, trying to see more of the room. I managed to get myself angled in a way that showed me more of the bed, so I could see Amanda's front half.

Then I froze. My stomach sank, and I felt cold.

The bare foot belonged to Becky. Becky, who was still naked. Becky, laying at the head of the bed. Becky, with her legs apart. Becky, with Amanda's head between them.

Amanda was going down on Becky while she was being fucked by her boyfriend.

Becky was laughing, and making very appreciative noises. Her eyes were half closed and she kept tipping her head back, lifting her pelvis to push herself into Amanda's eager mouth more. She wasn't drunk, wasn't being taken advantage of. She was simply having a fully-consensual threesome with two of her friends.

Neither of whom was me.

I turned and fled. I'm not sure how much I actually saw. When I look back, when I try to remember now what I was able to see that night, it seems more vivid, more intimate than it actually was. In my memory, I see Amanda's tongue eagerly lapping at Becky's labia, her nose tickled by the soft cushion of Becky's pubic hair. I see Becky, aroused, nipples standing proud on her beautiful bare breasts. She caresses herself, throws back her head, laughing happily. She's close to climax, the other girl's tongue and lips doing their work, bringing her to the edge of orgasm. I turn away before she comes, and the memory dissolves.

I'm reasonably certain that's not what I saw, and that I've made it more vivid in my mind than it was in reality. I've added in details from porn clips I have seen, or the sexy bits of films like Blue Is The Warmest Colour. Because every time I see two girls engaging in oral sex, my mind makes them into Becky and Amanda. That moment will stay with me forever.

I left the party soon after. I didn't speak to Becky again, I wasn't even around when (if) she came back downstairs. Her having a threesome with Ben and Amanda didn't end up being a well-kept secret, I think it had been fairly obvious even on the night to some at the party that that was what was happening. But I don't know what were the details and what was the gossip.

I woke the next morning feeling terrible – and not just because of my hangover. I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen, and couldn't stop myself feeling hurt and angry about it.

Which was stupid, but I think not unreasonable.

Why was I so upset? I knew Becky had a sex life. She was gorgeous, she never wanted for attention from guys and she was definitely more experienced than awkward, virginal me. It had never bothered me before when she had boyfriends, or even hook ups with guys. But now, I was jealous, and felt somehow betrayed.

The answer was obvious, but it took me a while to figure out. I wasn't sure if my strong feelings for Becky were love, or just lust, but I was sure of one thing. I desired her, physically. I wanted to kiss her, touch her, and yes, fuck her. I wanted her to do those things to me.

Aside from my constant worry over how that would affect my friendship, the other reason I had never pursued those feelings was that I had always felt pretty certain that Becky would never feel those same feelings towards me – not because we were friends (not only, at least) but because we were both girls. I had never had even the slightest inclination from Becky that she might want to have sex with another woman, never had any sense that she might be attracted to anyone other than men. And yet, I had seen her at that party enthusiastically receiving oral sex from another girl. True, a man was present – but at the moment I saw them, he wasn't involved in any of the pleasure Becky was experiencing.

I wasn't so dumb as to take from what I'd seen any sort of confirmation the Becky was in some way bisexual, or that her having sex with Amanda was anything other than a one-off. After all, I was fantasising all the time about Becky but I had never looked at another woman in that way and didn't consider my attraction to Becky to be any sign that I was gay or bi myself, so why would I assume it about anyone else? But it haunted me all the same. It haunted me because, well, if Becky had been flexible enough in her sexuality to enjoy sex with another girl on at least one occasion, that meant that all this time she might have been flexible enough to enjoy sex with me. Had I wasted any opportunity I might have had in the past few months? That night when Becky demanded I cuddle her when we were camping together – if I had taken a lead and kissed her, would she have reciprocated? Would that have led to more? At the time it hadn't felt right, it hadn't been a sexy moment, just a sweet one – but could it have been? If I had been honest about my feelings with Becky, would she have actually been interested?

The row we'd had earlier at the party preyed on my mind, too. If we hadn't argued, would she still have gone off with Ben and Amanda? Her showing up naked at the party was definitely a statement but who had it been a statement for? Was it for Amanda and Ben, was it for some of our other friends – or had it been meant for me? Had she been specifically wanting some sexy fun with a couple, with that particular couple – or, if things had gone differently between us, would she have suggested the sexy fun times be ours? Had I missed her signal (if showing up naked had been a signal, it was a very unsubtle one!) and squandered another opportunity by arguing with her?

There were no easy answers to these questions.