Rowdy at Red Rocks

Rachelle kept her nude composure, though a keen observer could see her fear in the slight quivering of her abs.

She mocked her rival's nervous stutter. "W-w-well, if anything needs to be thrown, you're the chick to do it. Or were all those years on the Lynx Softball team just to sweat off your tits?"

Rachelle's commanding presence compelled her to listen. Her trembling hands slowly reached out for the clothes.

Rachelle pulled back. "Uh-uh. Not so fast. What did that kid say on the walkie? We need to take off everything that touched that black hippie naturist down there, and get it out of the amphitheatre. Otherwise, you won't be the only pussy eating someone today."

Peyton's blue eyes were wide. She looked down at her soaked front then back at the brunette. She weakly shook her sopping wet face, terrified at the request.

Zoe's hand slipped between her legs as she cranked up the roars a third time. Their echoes spurring the blonde to action.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Agonizing the thought, Peyton tore off her drenched top.

Rachelle looked down at her chest. Though impressed by their shape, she managed a snicker. "Those are all Preston has to go home too?"

The growling grew louder.

Holding back tears, Peyton bent forward with the flexibility of a yoga master and the speed of a mousetrap. She flung off her matching tights with the force of a rowing team.

Fully nude and hating it, the petite instructor sprung back to her standing position, her toned and shivering body obscured to her class thanks to the ample curves of her rival.

She quickly knelt down and gathered up the dripping wet neon gift from her husband.

"See?" Rachelle drank in her rival's toned thigh gap and neatly trimmed blonde landingstrip. "Isn't that better?" She handed over her clothes.

Peyton snapped them out of her hands and pulled the two heaps against her bare chest. The breathable activewear in her arms released a small gush of the guitarist as she quickly rolled them into an orange-teal ball.

The roars grew louder still.

In a sinewy streak of strides, she rushed to the far North side of the amphitheatre, her bare feet slapping against the stone floor.

Her husband spun around, looking at her swaying hips in stride. "Peyton!"

She turned her trembling 34Bs back towards him. Her petite nipples were now erect in the air. Exasperated, she clutched the ball against her washboard abs. "What!?"

He motioned to her ponytail. She realized her scrunchy was also soaked with the mysterious woman's aroma.

The roars continued their approach, an effect Zoe created by adjusting the PA's sound balance.

Peyton tore it off and added the tie to the bushel in her arms, long blonde hairs caking against her sweaty body.

With softball form, she chambered the bushel against her right shoulder and pointed her left arm towards the far side of the North fence. Stepping wide, she twisted her hips and released. The yoga kits made a perfect arc out of the venue. For a moment, she held the stance as follow-through, on display to her worried students.

Zoe radioed to Carlos. "Are you in position?"

He saw the orange-teal ball land beside him, out of view of the class. "Si."

"Now on my signal--" Zoe twisted the knob in reverse and radioed back to Preston. "Whatever you did, I think it is working! That lion got a scent and he is moving away from the entrance, my amigos."

The class gave a hushed cheer. Peyton jumped with fists held high. Her perky breasts jostled in the morning air as daylight shinned between her toned legs, matching her trimmed blonde bush.

Zoe flipped the tape. "Now Carlos!" Her study partner began to savagely chop into the moist yoga tights with the garden shears. At the same time, sounds of the Denver Zoo tiger mauling his lunch roared through the PA.

Peyton returned to the ground and trembled at the noises. Strands of her and Rachelle's clothes came belting back over the screened fence.

Zoe waited, a hand slipping into her sweats as she spied the pandemonium below. She caught herself and pulled out. With quickened breaths, she slowly twisted the volume controls. The sounds of roaring faded into the horizon. Carlos stopped his sheering in time with the sounds, the final stands of lycra flying over the fence.

Peyton crouched on the smooth stone floor by the North fence.

When it sounded like the coast was clear, she stood up, in full view of the class. Her blue eyes went wide at their expressions. She remembered herself.

With renewed modesty, Peyton threw an arm across her chest and another down to her landing strip. With her thighs together, she hurriedly jogged back to her husband and students. Coming closer, she felt the unfiltered gazes that made her fidget at the start of class. Kwan couldn't help but be impressed by her teacher's body as she timidly strode back.

Fearing the poor woman's scent was still on her, Peyton decided to stand beside the A-shaped ebony guitarist as she neared the group. She positioned herself so her bareass was towards the stage and her covered front faced out to her husband. The three of them made a triangle on the foam mats in front of her students.

Rachelle returned to her posse in the center row, her arms comfortable at her sides. Sam, Cam and Kwan were now even more intimidated by the brunette exhibitionist. On the concrete plateau behind them, the second row of students drank in their full moon view her Hindi tramp stamp.

Moments past in the eerie silence.

"Umm...hi."

The class looked down to the ebony woman, her legs still wide as she reached for her guitar.

Not wanting to scare anyone with sudden moves, she modestly pulled up her backpacker, its thin body barely obscuring her breasts. "I'm April."

She slowly crossed her legs on the foam mats, her coco toes pointing out at the crowd. "So--what exactly is acroyoga, anyway?"

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7 -- The Quick Get Up

"Whenever I fall at your feet..."

~ Crowded House, 1991.

***

The 22-year-old hiding in the plaza was beside himself. He couldn't believe Zoe's plan had worked so well. Three gorgeous chicas nude at Red Rocks? With the acroyoga class having to watch? Afraid of a roaming mountain lion, they were trapped as a captive show and audience! It was too perfect.

Carlos flexed wide his garden shears and pulled out the last remains of sunburst and teal tights.

One problem. He couldn't see any of it. If his pal Preston or one of the others caught a stray glance of the security officer, the whole deception would fold. "Who watches the watchers?" he asked himself with a sigh. "My loco classmate and aspiring sound mixer."

***

On the smooth stone floor and jigsaw foam mats, Carlos' pal stood facing the quistive April at his feet. The red-silver bearded co-instructor was three paragraphs deep in his answer to her question:

"...and so, when my sister Daniella returned from her cycling tour in Montreal, she told us all about this brand-new thing she had tried: a combination of healing movements, acrobatics and yoga. Six months ago, she started this class here and asked if me and Peyton wanted to give it a go. Ol' Peyton-Bear thought she could never keep up, but now look at her--"

Absent-mindedly, he gestured back to his wife behind him. The class, who had been absorbed in his story, followed his gesture back to their nude and trembling instructor.

She cocked her head in disbelief towards her husband, her blue eyes begging him to change the subject as her blonde hairs collected on her bare shoulder.

Rachelle was loving every moment of her blonde rival's ordeal as she stood wide and nude amongst her posse in the front row.

To her left, Kwan felt her instructor's embarrassment by proxy. She folded her arms across her chest, clinging tight to her green sports bra, faded CU T-shirt and tie dye windbreaker. Standing on her matching green yoga mat, the blushing Korean crossed her legs in their form fitting bike shorts beneath her baggy sweats.

She wanted to help Peyton, but felt trapped. Mortally, by the roaming lion, and socially with the fear of being ejected from Rachelle's posse. She quietly suffered as blonde melted in the class's eyes.

April noticed the lithe figure beside her clutch her breasts and bush tightly as the students drank her in. With a demure cough, the guitarist saved the moment.

"What a wonderful story! I wish I had known about your class before our show tonight."

The class's eyes moved 45-degrees back to April.

"Your show tonight...?" In all the confusion, Preston hadn't studied the woman's face. Now, the dots connected.

"Wait. Your name is April...as in, April Addams? As in, Turquoise?" April gave a humble shrug. Her charcoal nipples peaked up from behind her six-string.

Preston and the class looked on in worship, like an idol was at their feet. Peyton felt their collective gaze release her.

Despite her predicament, April began to feel more at ease. This was almost like a Fractals concert. There, she would be on display in a thin multi-colored leotard in front of thousands of fans. Seated nude, save for her Martin and crossed legs, in front of twenty-odd yogis? Nearly the same, right?

Preston's starstruck eyes tried desperately to stay only on her face as she leaned her bare back against Red Rock's stage.

April thumbed over to the boombox, releasing the neck of her six string. "Ah, so you must be the one who put 'Rainy Day Rave' on that mixtape." It slipped off her chest and fell back on the foam.

The soft clatter of its hollow wooden frame echoed in the natural amphitheatre.

The all-natural Goddess of Pop felt the collective lust of the entire room. Newly exposed, April decided this would be her best window to stand. She was tired of their gazes towering over her.

To do so, the lifelong musician and athlete planned to use a boxing maneuver she learned years ago: The Quick Get Up.

Here, a boxer who falls on their back first slides to a side. Next, they plant their opposite leg and arm on the ground in a half-body bridge. With one leg now suspended in the air, the boxer slides it behind them in a deep lunge before pulling back to their fighting stance. The whole maneuver, under normal circumstances, takes seconds.

But these were not normal circumstances.

Her Martin still clattering on the mat, April planted one arm on her side. In an instant, the other wrapped around her ample chest.

Her legs still quivered from her orgasim mintues ago.

Nonetheless, she attempted the half-body bridge. With her coco toes flexed, she thrust her freshly-shimmering bush forward, its majesty vertically splayed to Preston and the two concrete rows of students. They let out a collective gasp as the cowering blonde next to her breathed in a familiar aroma.

In another instant, April threw back her suspended leg. She felt her center of mass slide up on the mats. She was almost there! But, her equilibrium was shot, punchdrunk from her tingling thighs. The ebony athlete overshot her intended boxing stance.

She landed instead in a spread eagle, facefirst on the mats in front of Peyton, her milk chocolate ass towards the rest.

The blonde instructor felt the class's gaze look down at the poor women splayed at her feet. A feeling greater than her embarrassment took over; her desire to help. Peyton freed her hands from her chest and landing strip and reached for the distraught diva.

April's curvy form larger than Peyton's, the lift turned out to be its own ordeal. The Goddess of Pop shot to her feet off-center, falling into the yoga teacher's perky breasts. Pushed back against the side of the stage, Peyton lost sight of everyone in a sea of curls.

Regaining her balance with her hands on Peyton's diminutive shoulders, April finally stood up. She steadied herself by putting a hand on either side of April's wide mocha hips. Three inches shorter, her gaze caught the ebony chest heaving from exertion in front of her. Looking up slightly, the two met each other's eyes. Lost in the moment, they smiled. Their black and white bodies held the embrace, sharing the small victory.

"Preston, do you read me, señor?"

"Carlos!? Thank god you're alive."

Peyton and April snapped back to reality. They tore away from one another. Peyton clutched herself once more. April made for her guitar. As she reached wide, she felt the eyes of the class on her again. She retreated into her own arms like the yoga instructor.

They inched closer to the man with the radio, desperate for news.

Behind the Northside fence, the sounds of their sensuous flesh rubbing and falling against one and other was too much. Carlos couldn't take it anymore. He had to write himself back into the narrative.

"Si, I am alive--" he breathed into his walkie, the pitched tent of his pants close to bursting.. "--but I'm afraid I have malas noticias. Bad news. After the lion found your distraction clothes and tore them apart, he has started circling the amphitheatre again. I'm afraid he is back on señorita April's scent!"

***

A mile-and-a-half up, the desparte plan of the security officer buzzed in the Octagonal room off the nosebleeds.

Zoe looked down on the scene. Her enjoyment of the last several moments was taking its toll. The AV seat simmered warmly through her sweats as she reached under her baggy CU hoodie. She made tiny circles around her tiny breasts as they heaved up and down.

With her freehand she held up Carlos' binoculars, the sweat on Peyton and April's

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8 -- Long Climb to the Top

"Be running up that road

Be running up that hill

Be running up that building."

~ Kate Bush, 1985.

***

April leaned towards Preston's walkie hand, her feet wide to stabilize her closed knees. "Carlos, please--it must be after eight now, right? I have to get back to the girls at the Ritz-Carlton in Denver."

"With that feral feline out there? Are you insane?" Peyton's clutched arm squeezed her breast in disbelief.

"I have to be, I work in the music industry."

April projected her voice out to the small group of students on the plateaus, hoping to get them on her side. "Listen, I tried to sneak into Red Rocks at the break of dawn this morning. Carlos caught me, but let me in. Here, in your beautiful amphitheatre, I finally got in the zone, found my muze and wrote a new song."

"A new song?" Preston looked back at her with child-like excitement.

"Yes. And, if I can get back to the band this morning, we can have it arranged and rehearsed in time for our show tonight!"

"You mean we would get to be the first in the world to hear a brand-new composition from April Addams, co-founder of the Femme Fractals?" Preston gripped hard on the walkie. "You heard the lady, Carlos, we've got to get her out of here. Now!"

***

Carlos raced back to the groundskeeping shed. He quietly placed the shears in the mess of gardening tools and relocked the door. His pulse was wild but his mind clear as he devised his answer back. "Hmm, there might be a way, señor--hold on I see the lion."

He let the acroyoga class chew on that morsel while he switched off his first walkie and radioed back to the AV. "Zoe." His voice was breathless but calm. "I am coming back up to you with a...proposition."

"Proposition?" She played with a curl on her forehead, eagerly awaiting his reply.

"Si, this morning. It has been magnífico. The two of us teasing those chicas in the arena. But it has also made me realize somethings I have wanted to say and, um, do with you for a while. Carlos out."

***

Zoe's green eyes went wide. Before she knew it, her hand found its way back in her sweats. "I didn't know he could be so assertive."

The olive-skinned trickster bobbed her kinky blonde pigtails back and forth, gleefully anticipating her classmates' return. He would be several minutes, carefully climbing the steel stairs so as not to alert the class of his assent.

She wondered how to greet him?

Suddenly, her binoculars caught a rainbow of colors down below. It was the tie-dye windbreaker, worn by the woman next to the nude Rachelle. Zoe had dismissed it before, but now, the way the chica wearing it was fidgeting, it looked familiar.

Zoe had an Asian friend in her sorority with the same jacket at CU. They studied together and, at one particular pledge party, shared a lip to lip kiss after a few too many Dos Equis. She always wore her long hair braided down her back for soccer matches. She graduated last year.

"Wait, Kwan? Is that you?" She said to no one in the AV. "Ooh, so curvy now--and with that sexy new bobbed due? I hardly recognized you."

With a devilish glint in her eye, she radioed into Preston. " señor, it is Zoe. I am, uh, still hiding in the giftshop. I heard Carlos has a plan to get señorita April out of the amphitheatre for her show? Something about writing a new song? Well, Carlos said he recorded it this morning. There is a tape in the AV room at the top of the amphitheatre!"

The class looked up to the octagonal room by Creation Rock, Zoe invisible behind the two-way glass. This was a risk, drawing their attention up here, but the heat between her legs was doing the thinking.

"If one of you is quick and quiet, they can sneak up there without the beast hearing them. But first, another distraction for the lion, to keep the brave volunteer safe. Is anyone in there wearing something bright? With muchos colores?

***

Kwan felt the whole attention of all the students surround her. Her chest shimmered with the multi-colored nylon coat she wore for the brisk hike to Red Rocks. Her milk-white face went beet-red. She tried to hide behind her bangs.

Preston joined in on their gazes, desperate to help his music idol. "Kwan, I know it's a lot to ask." His eyes were transfixed on her coat. "But if you can do this for m--I mean, April--it would mean the world."

Their needing eyes wore on the young woman. Kwan was a generous person by heart. Plus, she secretly knew she was the fastest runner in class. After a few aganoing moments, she gave two strong, silent nods, volunteering for the task.

The music geek in Preston was overjoyed. "I'm telling Daniella all about this when her flight gets in. You're going to have free classes for the rest of the year!"

Kwan's delicate fingers slowly reached up to the zipper by her neck. She pulled down as she stepped down from her green mat on the first plateau.

April inched her closed knees to the edge of the foam mats, clutching her bare chest. "Kwan, is it? Oh my god, thank you so, so so much! I can't tell you how much this means to me. On top of those classes, you've got a VIP pass to the show tonight, if you want it!"

The Korean grad smiled meekly through her bangs as she rolled up her jacket, her curves hidden under a CU tee two sizes too big. "It's my honor Turquoise--oh, I mean, Ms. Addams. I hadn't told anyone here, but I am a big fan of the Femme Fractals."

Rachelle threw up in her mouth. All this sentamitality was sickening. Worse still, her young upstart was getting to look nobel in front of the class. How could she spice this up?

The brunette hopped down from her sunburst mat, her breasts jostling as her bare feet made a quiet impact on the smooth stone floor. She silently sashayed behind Kwan as the noble volunteer made her way to the Northside fence to pitch her tie-dye windbreaker.

Rachelle waited till she was lined up in front of the Goddess of Pop on the edge of the mats. With mock gratitude, she clapped the Korean square on the back. "Good luck up there, girl! You've got what it takes."