The Spring Dance Patsy

"I don't know," he said, looking from one to the other. His eyes finally rested on Stacy's chest.

Stacy nodded, and put her finger under his chin, pushing his face up to look at hers. "I know. You think we embarrassed you. That's not what we wanted to do, honest."

Not yet, anyway, Connie thought.

Peter just stared, getting ready to bolt. Connie could see it in his eyes. "What if we... we were embarrassed too... a little?"

"Like how?"

Connie couldn't believe she was doing it, but she reached up to the third button of her shirt, the one centered right over her non-existent cleavage. Stacy caught her eye, looking surprised, but also calculating. She gave Connie a subtle nod, and Connie undid the button but stopped short of pulling her shirt further open.

"We saw something... it embarrassed you," Stacy said, glancing down at his crotch. He was still as hard as ever. "So, it would only be fair if..." She let the implication hang, but Peter was oblivious to it. "What if you saw something? Would that be better?"

Peter looked terrified, but also hopeful. He gave a slight shrug. Stacy gave Connie a hard look. Connie just stared back, the feeling of things getting out of hand growing by the second. Finally, she nodded to Stacy.

Stacy bit her lip, then looked down. She had a pullover shirt on, so no buttons to undo. Looking nervously from Peter to Connie, she lowered her hands to the bottom of her shirt. She stopped there and stared at Connie, her eyes hard.

Connie got the message and undid another button. There were only two more to go. With their eyes locked, she unbuttoned them both while Stacy pulled her shirt slowly up.

Connie remembered where they were. From this position behind the tree, she could only see parts of the school parking lot, and that between branches. It was deserted, but even if it wasn't, it would be hard for anyone to see anything they were doing.

Her eyes went back to Stacy, then to Peter. He was looking greedily at Stacy, frozen in place.

Stacy nodded to her and hooked her fingers under her bra, then pulled up.

As much as to not throw her friend under the bus as to keep the charade going on the chance they might still pull this off, Connie pulled the sides of her shirt open, exposing her breasts fully to Peter.

He looked her way with awe, until his attention was pulled away by the almost audible flopping of Stacy's tits as the shirt and bra finally released them. They slapped down against her chest, the flesh jiggling and rippling for a second before they came to rest. Her huge nipples were solid nubs.

But Stacy didn't stop there. Connie expected her to do the chicken wing pose while she held her shirt above her chest. Instead, she pulled her shirt up further. Further still and it was over her face. Then further and only her arms were still inside the shirt. Then not even that.

Connie watched the shirt and bra hit the ground at the base of the tree. Peter was entirely engrossed in the twin wonders right in front of his eyes, but Stacy was staring at Connie. 'Don't leave me hanging all by myself,' that look told her.

Peter wasn't even looking, and Stacy's argument was compelling, so she followed suit. She stared at her own shirt on the ground, and when she looked back at Peter, his eyes were clamped to her chest.

At least he noticed, she thought, realizing that she'd felt a flash of jealousy when it seemed like he would never take his eyes off Stacy's much bigger tits.

"Are you sure of our... intentions now?" Stacy asked. Connie caught the way she emphasized 'intentions'.

Peter looked back at her, then down at her chest. He shrugged. Connie wasn't convinced that they had him hooked yet. She stepped toward him. Topless, she reminded herself. Her nipples grew stiff.

She wanted to remind him that the dance would be a fun time, but given that they both had their tits out, she wondered if it conveyed implications she wasn't sure she wanted to be sent.

But then, it didn't matter what they promised. They were going to stand him up anyway.

"Intentions?" Peter asked.

Stacy moved closer to him, letting one of her breasts 'accidentally' brush his arm. "I mean, that we're sincere about wanting to go to the dance with you."

"It'll be fun," Connie said, moving closer to him as well. "The dance, and then we can hang out after." She thought that Stacy was the one who would do the hanging out. Connie herself wasn't hanging so much as jutting.

"Yeah, right," Peter said. "Easy for you to say." He scanned the area around them with a sour look. He wasn't nervous about them being seen, he seemed to be wondering when the joke would be sprung.

"Easy to make promises," he said, peering at Connie.

"We're not making any promises, Peter," Connie said. She needed to get ahead of this. It was getting out of control. "The only reason for..." She gestured toward her chest. "for this is because you were embarrassed. We were trying to, I guess, to level the playing field."

"She's right, Pete," Stacy said. He turned to her. "We just want you to go to the dance with us. No expectations beyond that."

"Both of you?" His tone was sarcastic.

"Sure," Connie said. "It's not a formal dance. It's a fun time for everyone to let off some steam before the last quarter." She almost forgot she was topless within view of the school.

"And you want me to go with you because I'm just so attractive, is that it? Because I'm such a great guy?

"We don't know each other."

"Pete, you're not the hottest guy in the school, OK?"

"Yeah, you said that already. Wouldn't want me to forget it, would you? So what then?"

"Because... you might be a great guy. You're interesting."

"Why? How?"

"Hot isn't all there is. OK, I admit, we might not have noticed you before, but you're kinda good-looking now that we do. And you're, I don't know, a mystery."

"A mystery? What do you want to know? I'll tell you, then you can leave me alone."

"Is that what you want?" Stacy asked, moving against him, her bare tits pressing into his ribs. "To be left alone?"

Peter looked down. He licked his lips. He looked nervous.

Then his look got hard. He reached for one of Stacy's tits and grabbed it. A full handful. More than a handful. "You mean, is this what I want? A pair of great tits to squeeze whenever I want?"

Stacy's eyes went wide, but she made no move to back away, or to push his hand off her.

He moved it away himself, then backed up a couple of steps, putting some distance between him and the girls.

"You want me to go to the dance with you? You want to be seen with me? What, as a charity case? Or maybe a buffer, keep the other creeps away, except for the ones you want creeping on you. Then you can go off and dance with them, leave me standing by the punch bowl.

"Do I have it about right?"

"Jesus, Pete," Connie said. Is that what he thought of himself? What Stacy said wasn't entirely untrue. Now that they'd gotten to know him a little, he was looking better. Not great, but better.

"'Jesus', what? We all know our place here. So you show me your tits. Big deal, girls show their tits all the time." He pulled off his shirt. "See, I'll show you mine. Now we're even."

His body was toned if not buff. Skinny, but with faintly defined pecs and a tight stomach. Dark hair flowed out from his waistband up to his belly button and thin wisps surrounded his nipples.

"What do you want us to do, Peter?" Stacy demanded in a frustrated, sarcastic tone. "Show you our pussies? Suck your dick?"

Peter smiled, a leering, predatory smile. "Sure. Maybe that would convince me." In a flash, he undid his pants and whipped out his dick.

"There. You know you got me hard. Couldn't hide it." It wasn't fully hard, but it arced out from a thatch of black hair looking oversized compared to his body. He pulled on it a few times, getting it fully hard, staring at Stacy's chest.

"There, now you know. Sure, you're both attractive. Is that what you wanted to hear? So there it is. Go for it. Maybe that'll convince me."

He stood with his hands on his hips, looking from one of them to the other, his cock pointing toward the sky at a 45-degree angle. It wasn't big, but a lot more than Connie expected. He must be a grower because it sure didn't show in his tight pants.

"Peter..." Connie began. "OK, you made your point." She wanted him to put it away, though as it stood, it might be difficult to stuff it back in. She didn't need to see that, and she certainly didn't need to know what that flush that washed over her face and chest implied.

It was her first inkling that he might not be what they'd thought he was.

"You want me to put it back? Fine. Walk away, and I'll zip it up." He stood staring at the two of them as if daring them to move. Connie knew they had two choices. Walk away as he said, which would end this and their chances with Penny for good, or walk toward him. God knows what would happen if they did that.

Stacy made the decision. She walked up to him, stopping before she got poked in the belly. "Like Connie said, you've made your point." She looked down at it, then back up at his eyes. "You think that scares us off? It's not the first one I've seen. What about you, Conn?" She looked over her shoulder.

Connie shook her head. "No, not the first." She hadn't seen more than a couple. The implication that she was used to it, jaded, was false, but the words were not a lie.

Peter scoffed. "Of course you have. And I've seen tits before." He looked at Stacy, standing close enough that he had to look down. "So what are you going to do?"

She reached down and cupped it in her hand. Peter shuddered.

"Stacy!" Connie yelled. She was definitely not up for this, popular crowd be damned.

Stacy shot her a warning look before looking back at Peter.

She wrapped her hand around his dick. Connie could only stare. She was torn between desperately wanting to get out of there and... something else.

"It's nicer than I expected," Stacy said, smiling up at him before looking back down. She looked at Connie.

"Oh. Yeah, it is," Connie said.

"So now you both want me, is that it?" Peter asked sarcastically.

Stacy shook her head. She let his cock go and stepped back, squared up at him. "Get over yourself, Peter. You sound like you have a lower opinion of yourself than anybody else in the whole school."

He looked at her, his face going through different expressions in quick succession. Confusion, wariness, calculating.

Stacy watched, then looked down and added, "That'll make going to the dance with you even better."

His eyes narrowed. He looked at Connie. She stared, pinned, her resolve to not cross that line wavering. She felt the warm breeze on her stiff nipples.

Without thinking, she stepped shoulder to shoulder with Stacy. She reached her hand out and ran her fingers over the top of his dick. She watched him close his eyes and tilt his head back.

Then his eyes snapped open and shot her a look. "Suck it," he demanded. "Maybe this dance won't be so bad after all. Suck my dick."

Connie snapped her hand back, but he grabbed it. Pulled her toward him. He pushed her hand down to his dick again, then let it go and squeezed her tit. When he lightly pinched her nipple, it was her turn to shudder.

She looked from Stacy to Peter with a pleading look. She didn't want to do this. Did she?

Stacy put her hand on Connie's bare back. She rubbed it lightly, then pressed. Pressed downward.

Before she could stop herself, she felt her body lowering, her knees flaring out. Stacy went with her till she was squatting in front of him, his hard cock right in her face. Stacy dropped to her knees next to her and reached for him.

Stacy did it first. Connie didn't dare look up to see Peter's reaction when Stacy stuck her tongue out and licked the underside of his dick. She only wet her lips.

Did she actually want to do this? More than just being willing to go through with it, did she want it? She didn't know anymore, but events were racing ahead of her. Stacy had her lips around him now. His dick was in her mouth.

Then she pulled off of it and pushed it toward her like she was offering a bite from a candy bar.

Connie couldn't believe that she took it. She felt her lips surround the head of a penis for the second time in her life, and a switch flipped in her. Yes, she wanted this. This geeky, unpopular, not great looking guy, he owned a penis, and she wanted it.

The previous time she'd done this, it hadn't gone much further than this. Just a quick suck or two, then a handjob. She knew she should stop, that this... boy, wouldn't have much stamina, wouldn't be able - or willing - to hold back, and that that time would come soon.

She pushed her lips further down his shaft. Oh, god, she thought, am I going to do this?

But no. Stacy wanted more. She practically yanked Peter's dick out of Connie's mouth and took it back into her own. Connie was glad. But she was also jealous.

She stared at the cock disappearing between Stacy's lips just an inch from her face. At his balls hanging right in front of her. She darted her tongue out and caught the side of his shaft as Stacy bobbed back. A salty, faintly sweaty taste that drove straight to the middle of her brain and made her insides flutter.

Stacy bobbed back down, practically shoving Connie's tongue aside. She went with it, and trailed down. She tilted her head and pushed forward. She heard him gasp when she licked one of his balls.

It jolted her. The taste, the texture, his groan. She lapped at his balls greedily, negotiating for space with Stacy on every bob her friend's head made.

Stacy bobbed up and kept going. Connie saw her look up at him, then pull his cock upward against his belly. Stacy slurped his balls, then trailed her tongue all the way up.

It was a longer way than Connie would have believed ten minutes ago.

Peter's hand shot out and gripped Connie's upper arm. He lifted, and she went willingly, leaving Stacy alone with Peter's cock. He peered into her eyes, then looked down at her tits. It felt like they were straining towards his eyes, straining to be seen, to be touched.

He looked back at her face, then moved in sharply, pushing his lips against hers, his tongue. She greedily accepted both and he moved his hand to her breast.

She made out with him, tongues dancing, lips nibbling, letting him feel her up. Feel all he wanted, and almost all she wanted. All while he was getting his dick sucked.

Who was this guy? How had he not cum yet? She had no time to think about it. His hand shot down between her legs, roughly pressing her over her pants.

"Oh!" she gasped, pulling away from his mouth. "I..." she wanted to protest, but she couldn't. It felt too good. It was sudden, and rough, and she needed it.

She was helpless when he moved his hand up and started tearing at the snap of her jeans. He got it open, got the zipper down. His hand pushed roughly against her belly, then under the waistband of her panties. Then...

Her head exploded with lights. Her jaw worked uselessly and her entire body tensed, unable to breathe. He fingered her roughly and pressed against her opening. She wanted to help him, wanted to do something to give him more room, but her body was frozen as she climaxed.

Her upper body slumped against his shoulder, her mouth trailing drool along his upper arm, the same arm that was still plunged into her pants. She didn't feel done yet.

She reached behind herself to push her pants further down, to give his fingers room to curl and push into her. But she started to come back to her senses. She tried to look around, to look toward the parking lot, but she couldn't turn that far with his hand pinning her pussy like it was.

"Not here," she groaned against his shoulder. He stopped moving his fingers and looked up, looked around.

He nodded to her and dropped to his knees, pulling her with him. Pulling out of Stacy's mouth as well. They were down among the weeds and the wheat now. It wasn't what she meant, but she didn't know what she had meant, only that she needed more, and preferred not to be seen. She wasn't sure how much she cared about the latter.

She pushed her hands against her waistband behind her, trying to work her jeans over her butt while staring at his cock pointed right at her. He pulled one foot out from under himself and planted it on the ground. He untied his shoe and pulled it off, then the other.

Oh, yeah, shoes, Connie thought vaguely. She needed to get her shoes off. She could hardly think beyond that, only that she needed to get her pants off, and her shoes were in the way.

She watched Peter fall back to sit on the ground. He peeled his pants off. As if she'd needed a demonstration about how to do it, she copied him.

Part of her brain realized she was naked, and where she was. But she noted it as if it was somebody else, somebody she was observing from a distance. She was getting carried away. She felt like things were happening without her full will, like they were just happening, not that she was doing them.

But she was doing them. When Peter crawled to her on all fours and kept going, she let his shoulder push her onto her back. When his hand reached between her legs, she opened them. When he pushed a finger into her and thumbed her clit, she tried to squeeze, to pull him into her.

When he moved his mouth to her nipple, she cradled his head with both hands and moaned his name.

And when he trailed his tongue down the center of her chest, toward her belly, she pushed on his head, urging him to move faster.

At the first contact of his tongue with her clit, she barely kept herself from screaming at the top of her lungs. She was barely aware of deciding that he knew what he was doing, and how strange that seemed for somebody who was just a geek and a hopeless virgin.

She only registered silent pricks of light in her head and the quivering ache in the center of her gut. That, and what she needed to turn those pinpoints of light into a nuclear explosion.

He knelt upright between her legs, his cock hovering just above her pussy and belly. Stacy moved to him and planted her mouth on his. His hands went to Stacy's ass, and Connie realized her friend was just as naked as she was.

She watched Peter finger her, reaching down and under, pressing deep into the gap between her ass cheeks.

Stacy shifted her knees till they were next to Connie's chest, lowering her head and breaking their kiss. Pete looked down at Connie, spread out under him, waiting and wanting. He grabbed his cock and slapped it against her once, twice.

"Touch her," he ordered Connie as he lifted his cock toward Stacy's face. She lowered her head to meet him halfway. It thrust her ass into the air. Connie felt the girl's breast hang down to pool on her belly.

Her head lolled to the side and saw her best friend's clam within arm's reach. Bare lips, red and puffy, inner structures pinched between them. She watched herself move her hand to Stacy's thigh, then up, then across her pussy.

Peter rewarded her by pressing his cock lengthwise against Connie's slit. She saw Stacy's head move with him and felt her hair brush her inner thighs as she licked his length, right up against her.

Stacy's knees moved apart as Connie fingered her, pressing and probing where she liked it herself, having no other experience to draw from. It felt surreal. She was straight, but somehow, Stacy's pussy had been linked to her own, a press here, a rub there, and both Pete and Stacy conspired to transmit another press and rub to Connie.

She felt his cock lift away from her. Was this it? A part of her mind tried to tell her that this was going too far, but she barely heard it. 'Too far' was a concept that seemed entirely moot.

But no. She felt a rough texture brush her lips and realized it was his balls. Then she felt Stacy's face and tongue. Not licking her, but licking Peter. There was hardly a difference now.