College Girls Ch. 24

Story Info
Drunk girl loses her clothes in a bar.
10.3k words
4.63
124.6k
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Part 24 of the 27 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 02/21/2002
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I was not looking forward to my boyfriend's visit, which is hard to believe considering who I was dating. You see, for the past fifteen months I was living with the quarterback of the football team. Just imagine, me, Mindy Sparks, the girlfriend of the most popular guy on campus! I was the envy of every girl in school. Unfortunately, the relationship wasn't a perfect fit for me.

My boyfriend didn't want me to wear revealing clothes and flashing was out of the question. In fact, he didn't even want me talking to other boys. I love having sex with a strong muscular guy, but I also love the gentle touch of a sweet girl. However, girls were off-limits, too. He didn't want me fooling around with girls even if it involved having him join us in a threesome. I guess he's a real control freak. I ended up spending my time studying while he talked football with his buddies. Sure, I made straight A's during our relationship, but I wanted so much more.

He graduated from college with his token football degree, but I still had one year to go. After leaving school, he went to work for an asphalt company. I couldn't understand why he took a job that didn't even require a high school diploma, much less a college degree. Then again, he didn't go to college on an academic scholarship. The classes those football players take aren't exactly brain busters! Now Mr. Quarterback wanted me to give up my last year of college and marry him, but I'd had enough of this no flash, no fun relationship and it was time for me to get back to my old partying lifestyle.

For our night out, I decided to break free of my boyfriend's control and show him the type of clothes that I like to wear. I chose a very short red and black plaid mini-skirt. It was pleated and looked like a little schoolgirl skirt. After struggling to get it zipped up in the back, I had to pull down on the short skirt until my butt cheeks were no longer hanging out from beneath the hem of the mini-skirt. However, this forced the waistband down to where my neatly trimmed auburn pussy hair started. The waistband was so low that the top of my butt-crack was about to hang out in back. Pulling down on the skirt also put an incredible strain on the zipper. The zipper felt like it could pop open at any time. This made me a little nervous because there wasn't another button or hook holding the skirt on and all I was wearing underneath the short skirt was a very skimpy black thong. I also wore white lace socks and black shoes.

As I looked in the mirror, I admired how my little black bra was visible through the thin white blouse that I was wearing. Even though my breasts are only medium sized, there was an ample amount of cleavage pushing out from between the cups of the tiny bra. I decided to make my outfit a little more interesting by only fastening one button, which was right below my breasts. Then I tied the bottom of the blouse into a knot. This left my belly button and bare midriff out in the open for all the boys to look at. In this outfit, my five-foot-one-inch petite body made me look like a sweet and innocent schoolgirl, but this twenty-two year old college coed is anything but sweet and innocent!

Mr. Quarterback did not look happy when he saw my risqué attire. As I climbed up into his truck, he saw my butt cheeks peek out from beneath my short skirt, but instead of getting excited, he got angry. He complained that other guys would be able to check out my ass and then he said that I was acting like a total slut. That remark offended me because I'm very selective about who I sleep with. I just enjoy teasing guys with my cute little body and I don't see any harm in that.

We stopped at a gas station on the way to the restaurant and he told me to wait in the pickup truck, but when some guys came over to talk football with my boyfriend, I decided to get out of the truck and help. I grabbed a squeegee and began cleaning the windshield. His jacked-up truck is so tall that I had to stand on my tiptoes and reach up high, causing my short skirt to ride up in back. With only a tiny thong under my skirt, my butt cheeks were almost completely exposed to the boys. Then the breeze from a passing car lifted my mini-skirt all the way up to my waist. I giggled and pushed the skirt down, but not before the boys got an eyeful of my firm smooth butt. I was enjoying myself, but my boyfriend's face was red with anger.

When he got back into the truck, he said, "I hope you're proud of yourself, showing off your ass to all those guys. I don't even know why you bothered wearing panties. They don't hide anything!"

I said, "Aw, come on. I was just having a little fun. Didn't you see the faces on those boys? They're all wishing they were you right now."

He said, "Well, I thought you'd given up all this childish sorority behavior."

My boyfriend dropped the subject after that. In fact, there was silence in the truck until we reached the restaurant.

When we pulled into the parking lot I said, "Hey, this is just the Country Diner. I thought you were taking me to a nice restaurant."

He replied, "This is good enough considering the way you're dressed."

The Country Diner is usually full of blue-collar workers from the local farm community. Many of them were looking at me through the big windows in the front of the restaurant, so I decided it was time to have some more fun. When Mr. Quarterback opened my door, I jumped down from the jacked-up truck and this caused my extremely short skirt to fly up into the air. I just let it slowly fall down on its own giving the people in the diner an unobstructed view of my tiny thong panties.

After we were seated, a waitress came over to our booth and recognized my boyfriend as the former football star. She immediately disclosed that she had a crush on him, but he was still fuming from my parking lot stunt. The waitress sensed what he was mad about, so she tried to capitalize on the situation.

She winked at my boyfriend and then she turned to me and sarcastically said, "Nice panties!"

Before I could respond, an old lady at the next table added, "In my day, we would never parade around in public with little underpants like you 're wearing," although her husband had a big smile on his face.

The waitress began flirting with my boyfriend and acted as if I wasn't even there. She told him that if he was still on the football team, they'd be winning this year. My boyfriend suddenly looked as though he was becoming interested in the girl. Sure, she was cute, but I looked as sexy as possible and my boyfriend was the only guy in the diner that wasn't happy to see me in my revealing outfit.

When the waitress brought our drinks and took our order, I noticed that she had unfastened a few buttons on the front of her uniform. The waitress was showing off her big boobs to my boyfriend and his eyes were fixated on her massive globes as they tried to spill out of her white lacy bra. Sure, I was tired of our stale relationship, but I was starting to get angry with my boyfriend because he always refused to let me wear revealing clothes, yet he loved to look at other girls when they flashed a little skin.

I contemptuously blurted out, "Nice cleavage!"

The waitress again winked at my boyfriend, and then she began slowly lifting the front of her skirt.

When she finally raised her uniform dress high enough to completely expose her panties to my boyfriend, she countered, "Well, at least I'm wearing respectable underwear, like a good girl should."

A good girl? Was she crazy? Even I wouldn't call myself a good girl while flaunting my panties in the middle of a restaurant! The waitress had her back to the patrons of the diner, so no one could see her from the front. However, all the guys in the diner were checking out her panty-clad ass from the back.

My boyfriend was doing some checking out of his own as he carefully inspected the front of her white bikini panties. Her panties were about the size of a small swimming suit so of course they were bigger than my tiny thong. However, her blonde bush was clearly visible through the thin silky material. I just couldn't believe that my boyfriend would constantly harp about how terrible it was for my sorority sisters and I to flash and tease guys around campus, and then the instant a young girl flashes him, he gives her his undivided attention. What a hypocrite!

After giving my boyfriend a nice long look at her little underpants, the waitress took our order and left. While she was gone, I excused myself and went to the restroom. Feeling bold, I removed my panties and then I returned to find the waitress talking to my boyfriend again.

She looked at my boyfriend, smirked and said, "The thong flasher is back."

I replied, "Since you're so obsessed with my thong, you can have it," and then I stuffed my little panties in the cleavage between her big titties.

The old woman at the next table gasped, so I slowly slid into our booth and spread my legs in the process. Since I was now naked beneath my extremely short skirt, my deliberate actions gave the woman and her husband a clear view of my auburn pussy hair. She looked disgusted, but her husband looked very happy. I left my legs spread apart long enough to provide the old man with an extended presentation of my neatly trimmed bush. I'm sure he needed it after being married to that woman. However, when guys at other tables started dropping their forks so they could bend over and look up my skirt, it was time for me to cross my legs.

My boyfriend and I finished our meal without speaking to each other, although my boyfriend had plenty to say to the waitress. He was especially talkative after she opened another button on her uniform. We put quite a few beers away, so the waitress had to make constant trips to our table. Each time she bent over to put our drinks on the table, the top of her uniform would fall open and expose her entire bra-covered breasts to my boyfriend. When she asked him to autograph her bra, I lost my temper. I reached into the sides of my sleeveless blouse and pulled my bra straps down each arm. Then I reached into the front of my blouse, unclasped my bra and pulled it out from under my shirt.

I tossed it on the table and said, "Here, autograph mine, too."

I left my black bra on the table and began walking out of the restaurant. When I saw how intensely the guys in the diner were staring at my chest, I looked down and quickly realized that discarding my bra was a mistake. My blouse was far more transparent than I thought it was and my nipples were quite visible under the thin white fabric. However, as a matter of principle I couldn't go back and get it now. I had to make my point by leaving the diner without looking back.

I was outside the restaurant and I could see that my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend was still in the diner flirting with the waitress. I opened the door to the pickup and began climbing up into the cab. The height of the jacked-up monster truck made it difficult for me to get in. When I bent forward to get into the truck, my extremely short skirt rode up in back, exposing my bare ass to everyone in the restaurant. I was getting embarrassed because the boys in the diner had just finished gawking at my braless breasts and now they could see my fully exposed butt as I squirmed around to pull myself up into the truck. As I sat there alone, I thought that maybe I'd gotten the attention of my boyfriend, but all I'd really done was give the guys in the diner a good show.

I sat and waited in the pickup truck while Mr. Quarterback got the waitress's phone number. When he finally came outside, my boyfriend told me he was going to ask me to marry him. However, he could now see that I would never be the stay-at-home housewife that he was looking for. I told him that I wanted to break up, too, because I was tired of living under his strict rules, although I still felt a twinge of sadness deep inside me.

He offered to drive me home, but I told him that I would call one of my sorority sisters and ask her to pick me up at a bar across the street. I jumped down from his truck for the last time and once again, my skirt flew up in the air. However, this time I didn't have a thong to hide my hairy triangle from the men in the diner so they were all treated to a clear view of my reddish-brown pussy hair.

It seemed to take forever, but my skirt finally floated down to cover my nakedness. I was mortified when I looked though the window of the diner and saw that everyone was staring at me, but I tried not to appear flustered. I just gave my ex-boyfriend a hug and proceeded to walk across the street to the bar. I had to be careful crossing the street because the passing cars tried to blow my skirt up. Feeling that my performance at the diner was enough for one night, I did my best to hold my skirt down because I didn't want to flash everyone in the bar, too.

After entering the establishment, I hopped up on a bar stool and the bartender poured me a beer. I really didn't need another beer because I was pretty drunk already, but the bartender gave me one on the house. As I looked around, it appeared that the bar catered to a bit of a rough crowd. Most of the people in the bar seemed to be older than I am, although there was a small group of girls and a few guys that were around my age. They didn't look like college students. They looked more like locals that stopped here after work. The girls were all wearing low-rise jeans and T-shirts.

Many of the men were staring at me, so I started feeling a little uneasy and vulnerable because of the way that I was dressed. I suddenly came to the realization that entering this bar alone may not have been a good idea. I was in a strange place wearing a skimpy see-through blouse and extremely short skirt, and to make things worse, I wasn't wearing a bra or panties. My nipples were quite visible under my thin white top, so it was obvious that I wasn't wearing a bra. As the men began to really take notice of me, I became very nervous so I whipped out my cell phone and called my sorority sister, Rachel.

I said, "Rachel, I need a lift home from this country hick bar just outside of town."

She said, "Well, I'm kind of busy, but I guess I can be there in a couple of hours."

I said, "A couple of hours? You don't understand. There's kind of a rough crowd in here and I don't know anyone. And to make matters worse, I'm wearing my little schoolgirl costume without underwear!"

Rachel laughed and said, "How did you let that happen? I mean, I can't even believe you'd wear that outfit with underwear!"

I said, "Rachel, quit laughing and come get me."

She said, "Okay, I'll be there. Just try to keep a low-profile for a couple of hours and don't draw any attention to yourself."

Don't draw any attention to myself? Rachel obviously didn't remember how sheer my blouse was and how short my skirt was. Anyway, I don't think anyone could tell that I was naked under my skirt, so I just tried to keep to myself.

Most of the guys in the bar kept coming up to me and trying to strike up a conversation, but the girls in the bar were very cold. They kept giving me the evil eye every time a guy gave me some attention. Then they huddled together and looked like they were plotting against me. When the huddle broke up, one of the girls came over and sat down next to me. She introduced herself as Heather and to my surprise, she seemed quite pleasant.

Heather was around 5'6 with bleached blonde hair and a heart tattooed on her arm. She had a cute face and didn't look as rough as the other girls, although she was dressed the same way. Heather was wearing very low-cut jeans with her butt crack just on the fringe of peeking out in back. She also had on a bare-midriff T-shirt that showed off her flat tummy. Heather's big tits were her main assets. Even though she wore a bra, her nipples still poked out against the front of her tight T-shirt.

When I first walked in the bar, I felt like I'd entered into a threatening environment. I was under the impression that people were pointing at me and talking about me behind my back. I wasn't going to talk to anyone, but Heather seemed friendly so I began to open up to her. I told Heather that my boyfriend and I had just split up that night. I went on to divulge that even though I wanted to break up with my boyfriend, I was still sad that the relationship ended.

Heather listened to my sob story and I was beginning to feel like she truly cared about me. Little did I know that Heather's circle of girlfriends sent her over to exploit me because I was an outsider. The girls were also upset because all of the guys in the bar focused their attention on my little schoolgirl costume. I guess the girls felt threatened because I was getting all of the guys' admiration and my drunken state of mind clouded my judgment of Heather's character.

Heather suggested that playing a game of Washers would cheer me up. I'd never played the game before, but it looked simple enough. All you had to do is toss a washer into a small box, similar to the game of horseshoes except each time you missed the box, you had to chug a small glass of beer. They put two boxes about ten feet apart on the floor and handed each of us four washers. Heather went first. She tossed her four washers and got two in the box. Heather chugged her beers out of a small glass and then it was my turn.

Suddenly I noticed that everyone in the bar was watching us play. When I leaned forward to toss the first washer, my blouse fell away from my chest and my nipples peeked out because there was only one button fastened on my shirt. The guys were able to look into my shirt and almost see my braless breasts.

I stood up and said, "This isn't going to work. When I bend over, I practically fall out of this shirt."

The guys groaned and Heather said, "What's wrong baby?"

I replied, "I lost my bra earlier tonight and the boys can see right down my blouse! I'd better button up."

Heather grabbed my hands and softly said, "Oh no, no, no, you don't want to do that."

I begged, "Please Heather, let me button my shirt. It's bad enough that the boys can see through my top. I don't want them looking down my blouse, too."

Knowing that I was a little sad and pretty drunk as well, Heather began to toy with my fragile emotions. If I hadn't been so drunk, I'd have known that Heather did not have my best interests in mind, but she'd won my trust, so I let her continue. Heather stepped in front of me and softly ran her finger down the middle of my chest.

Heather stopped between my breasts and said, "You look great just the way you are. If anything, you have too many buttons fastened. Here, let me help you out."

When Heather's finger passed between my breasts, it sent chills down my spine. A girl hadn't touched my body in a long time and I yearned for that wonderful sensation. Unfortunately, my quest for sexual satisfaction blinded me to Heather's true intensions. Although Heather had wicked plans for me, her soft sensual touch yielded me powerless to stop her. Heather's finger found its way down to the only button fastened on my shirt and with a quick flick of her fingers, the button popped open.

She looked me in the eyes, licked her lips and seductively said, "There, that's much better."

I was mortified. Everyone was staring at me and the only thing holding my blouse together was a loosely tied knot well below my breasts. However, I was trying to win Heather's affection, so I allowed myself to follow her instructions. Since I felt that she was interested in me, I assumed that she would watch out for me. Regrettably, I was too drunk to notice that Heather didn't care about me at all. She was only making fun of me to impress her friends.

We went back to playing the game and it was still my turn. My shirt was tied together at the bottom, but when I leaned forward to throw the next washer, my shirt separated even further than before. Now the boys could easily see my braless breasts, including my round rosy nipples. I was really embarrassed so I tried to hold my top while I threw the washer, but Heather smiled and pulled my hand down. She told me to quit worrying about my top and concentrate on the game. Of course, that was easy for her to say. Her bare tits weren't spilling out in front of everybody.