The Frat Party Ch. 01

Story inspired by NakedDan's series, The "Volunteer."

*****

We were sitting in our dorm suite when one of the guys from the suite across the hall came in and said, "Hey, turn to Fox Business Channel. You've got to see this girl from some college out west!"

"Huh?"

"You know, the naked chick! John Stossel has her on, live, and maybe uncensored."

Naturally, we all had to check it out, and sure enough, there she was, Danielle Keaton, and they didn't censor a thing, not her boobs and not her shaved bare pussy!

It was an interesting show, and the guys, as well as the girls were all cheering on Danielle, who went by Dani.

Once it was over, Butch had to put in, "Dana, you ought to try that!"

"Yeah, right. Dude, this is Pennsylvania, not California, and York is a private college; I'd get arrested in 12 minutes and kicked out in 20!"

"Oh, give me a break, half the campus has seen your tits."

Well, maybe not half, but probably more than should have. I really stand out for a girl, because I'm a 6'2" tall redhead, a real redhead, with green eyes. Four years in the Army have kept me in top shape - and I'm in ROTC, so I've got to stay in shape - but while I'm pretty strong, I'm also skinny and if not quite as flat-chested as an ironing board, I'd never fill out a B-cup bra. Not needing a bra (other than a sports bra for the gym and track), I never wear one and don't even own one.

Pair that with some loose tank tops with bigger arm holes, and yeah, a whole bunch of people have caught a little - pun intended - sideboob on me.

And it's possible that I've gone commando a couple times in a sundress when the weather was warmer. I like going free, but once the cooler weather set in, and I was in jeans all the time, I started wearing underwear again, almost always either silky or plain cotton thongs.

And, for me, the beach means Gunnison, the nude section of Sandy Hook National Seashore in New Jersey. I'm a redhead, so I don't tan (unless you count a freckle explosion as a tan), but during this last summer I was there four and five days a week.

I do kind of like to show off a bit, and two years in the Army in Afghanistan will rid a girl of any modesty or sense of privacy: I lived in a tent I shared with another female soldier, and the shower was another tent, and you just plain stop worrying about who is going to see what.

My suite mates started laughing. "Her tits? You ought to live with us; Dana doesn't think anything of walking from her room to the bathroom starkers." (Did I mention that Annette was British? Who else uses "starkers"?)

The rest of the girls laughed and pointed: "See, you can see her tits now!" And it was true: another loose shirt, and me bent over a bit, and it was a perfect downblouse moment.

"OK, OK, sorry, but maybe you've seen me a bit, but I can't go around the way Danielle does: it's Pennsylvania and it's still cold out, and I'm not getting arrested."

But Butch wasn't to be deterred. "Well, if you can't do a full Danielle, how about this: why don't you come to the Phi Sig party Saturday, naked? In fact, I dare you to come to the party naked. I don't think you've got the guts to do it."

Damn it, Butch knew me just well enough to know that a challenge, and a challenge to my courage, was the right button to push. I'm not an infantryman - females weren't allowed to try for combat jobs, other than as medics, while I was in country - but I'm damned proud of my Combat Action Badge, won in combat with a Female Engagement Team out of Forward Operating Base Lagman in Afghanistan. the Taliban attacked, and I was just another soldier returning fire on the enemy. I was even more pumped up than I was scared - everyone who get shot at gets scared - and I'm proud of being brave. Butch just plain had me with that dare!

The other guys from the suite across the hall? They were cheering on Butch's challenge, and so were the girls. I was made, I was busted, and there was no way I was going to back down from a challenge . . . but I had to make it interesting.

"Alright, alright," I yelled, generating some more whoops and hollers. I'll do it under one condition." Everyone got quiet at that point. I walked over to Butch, and stood over, looking down on him - he's about half a foot shorter than I am - and said, "I'll show up, naked, completely naked, under one condition: you have to greet me at the door, and if I show up naked, you have to strip, strip completely naked, right ten and right there!"

The whoops and hollers before that were nothing compared to the yelling going on now: I had met Butch's challenge, and turned it right around on him.

"And let's define naked, right here, and right now. I can wear flip-flops, since the ground is cold, and I can wear jewelry, and maybe a band in my hair. No scarfs and nothing covering up my boobs or my butt or my puss. That way, you don't get to claim that you don't have to strip because I didn't hold up my end of the bargain. I get to wear a coat up to the door, but it will be completely off me when I step through. Agreed?"

Butch didn't answer, but the other guys did: "Yeah, that's a deal!"

"And if I meet the terms of the deal, Butch is going to strip, right? He can wear sandals and he can wear a watch or rings or other stuff, but no clothes: his dick and his butt have to be completely exposed. Deal?"

Butch was silent."

"Deal?" I said louder.

He stuck out his hand: "Deal."

It was Thursday night, and yes, I was sober, completely sober; the party was on Saturday, and I was going to have some fun, fun,fun!