Atonement! N

'You just Chapsticked yourself in front of a bunch of strangers, your boobs are out to here, and your usual armor of panties are sitting useless in your purse. God, this would make a great study for an article. Except... where could I publish such stuff? The newspaper? And it's about ... me! Oh god!' Realization dawned that exposing herself in print would be like exposing ... him in print, which she kind of did.

Came his voice, "Easy now, can you steady yourself to dance?

"In a moment"

"OK, how about in two songs?"

"Yes, Sir."

Okay, she had a moment to study this. Really she was the one doing this. Sure he was calling the shots, but everything that had happened in the bathroom, moves on the dance floor, keeping the clipboard on the bar and not balling up the page – it was really herself. She could have, really could have, lied about the whole thing and left there head held high. So what else could she do – meaning; where was the line? Really, she could draw it anywhere. Would he really leave her if she called off the project now? No, surely. He wants to see her devotion level with this upcoming sexcapade, 'Well, it's up to me to show it then, he'll be along whether I do or I don't.' She decided and then she decided, 'I'm in as far as he'll go, I'm in to the top.' She allowed this thought to find its sexual spin. She glanced at the clipboard again. Three names; her newfound resolve didn't keep her from finding a nervous gulp. But it did get her rebound working enough to recover from her thoughtful state, to take a gulp of a drink, and to grab the reins. After awhile sitting legs opened as requested she stood up, 'better get a good spot on that dance floor, just half a song to go.' She wondered if she mumbled that while she thought it.

The current song was only marginally danceable to her, but it had enough of a beat to bounce around a bit, so when she got to the floor she did just that, a little solo bopping in place, be noticeable, look pleasant, brush hair back with one hand with the other hand resting behind the hip. When that song did end she found herself still alone, but facing a man who was just a little familiar.

In what seemed like a pause the first, quieter tones of a bright dance tune from the '80s swelled up. The man before her and she silently agreed to move in to dance to "Let the Music Play" and she remembered seeing him in the lobby; one of the four men that comprised the bachelor party. This song got going bouncily with its colorfully distinct tones and up beat, but it was still a bit tame. Few people were touching to dance to this song. But wait, more people were closing in on the floor. She realized this when she turned around to dance and his hip met hers for a couple of bounces – cute, but she saw that the crowd was going to be pressed close behind her.

She danced herself around again to face her partner who was smiling. He seemed like such a nice guy with that smile; good. At the time of the second chorus she closed the distance to him and they were about rubbing fronts because of the press of people at her back. Some woman at her back occasionally bumped into her with an arm and it made her large breasts close the distance and make first contact. Up-down across his belly they moved several times. About the sixth time he put his arms out, hands gently to her hips in a gesture that looked like he could steady her. Really he put no pressure at all there, he was just touching – one hand slid up to her side. He was still in a safety zone as long as he didn't tickle her.

As the extended version chorus chimed in with some action moves they wound up right at each other, no more gap, and their knees mingled to dance this way.

To dance to the upcoming mix of solos they crouched a bit, knees accommodating each other's motions. She had put her hands on her skirt at the sides of her thighs and could feel the skirt start to hike up with each side-side rock of her hips. Having the tiniest bit of extra butt and thigh probably encouraged this, she thought, a thinner girl would not have this happening. Seeing her skirt ride up brought him closer, his leg meeting hers a little higher up. Higher, higher his blue slacks now met her rising hem and encouraged it another bit. Just then another hand found its way to her side. It was not her partner's and she looked down to see another male hand had come in from behind. She danced a moment with both arms raised to see what she could see.

A long black sleeved arm trailed behind the big hand which was now holding back her black drapey over-shirt making he rleft breast seem all the more prominent. The new hand, unlike her first partner's two, slid up and down with her hipsways and rubbed even further forward to be able to rise up under her breast. The man in front inched ever closer pressing her skirt up a bit more. To accommodate his closeness her thighs danced further apart and the bottom of that skirt rolled itself ... once ... twice. To the back, on her rear she felt a new press. Someone, presumably the owner of that third hand, allowed his front to gently bounce into her buttock, just a couple of times at first. Then it happened more firmly and increasingly until it was every beat. A woman's bare back faced her on the right, and another man was on her left. This last was not touching her, but gave the impression he was watching the unfolding show, and that was the box she was in. It became claustrophobic very quickly, but she didn't let up or ask to be let out, she kept right on dancing. Letting her arms down to her sides she did a move on the music's crescendo that dramatically twisted her hips, and when she got back into rhythm she felt a firm hard, press at the center of the male form behind her. Her twist had made his hand run almost all the way across her belly and trace an underline beneath both her breasts. The song was ending, but the box was tight and the dance partner to the front was now holding her in; although gently. That man had placed one hand just barely around her back, and the hand at her hip now held just above the swell of her rear. This latter hand slipped up and down with the rhythms of their bodies, the music, and basically rubbed at her ass. There's the press of a pelvis from behind again, well, that was not just his pelvis, there was definitely something there.

Yes, there was a stirring. A discovery occurred then that made her flush a little at the cheeks. The discovery rubbed across both her other cheeks before settling into a rhythm along the crack of her ass. Her flush made her high for but a second, the same second that brought the end of the song.

"Ok, this was easy." She said under her breath and under the noise as the press of bodies loosened, but no gap separated the tunes and a slightly rougher dance number that she didn't know bounced in. Not a one of her borders vanished and the motion of the next song swept in and caught her up. The arm lowering maneuver from a moment before had covered the two wrists – one from in front and one from behind – and trapped their owners for the one second transition to the new dance. Soon she would not be able to tell if she was dancing to the rhythm or if the rhythm of what was happening around or to her was what kept her body moving. Though the man in front had backed up an inch or two his knee was still parked between her thighs. Now, though, she could see how far up her skirt had hiked and that it's hem had rolled, twice. It was high; could he see – see her pussy? Another woman was facing in by a few moments into this song; facing into her little box and also gently bumping hips with the woman in the open backed outfit.

The bumping into the rear had become more-or-less insistent, and with each push she felt a new larger impression of that mystery man's excitement. Harder the rhythm drove them and the hand from behind now firmly held her ribs under her breasts, which heaved over his wrists. For a moment she could hear her own breath dominate her own senses, and she made eye contact with the new woman, the one that was facing her. Was this one of those college girls from the bathroom? The pair who'd talked without shying away at seeing her applying Chapstick to herself. As this woman took a long sip of her drink through pursed lips on a straw her eyes looked down, down girly's frame, down what was left of the border that her skirt once described, down where the blue slacks were climbing back up her clasping rocking thighs. The girl made eye contact again with a straw lipped smile that said 'yes, your vagina is in view f someone looks right.' The blue slacks closed the gap to her hem while she had eye contact with the woman, but she knew. Within seconds his firm knee was teasing at her labia, and she felt her lips fill. There was a warm parting sensation that would soon allow out a hot pool of fluid.

The partner in front soon gave her ass a squeeze and then increased his crouch before her. This was all a steadying movement that allowed him to move his one leg further up under her and presently his position against her increased right up to her crotch. She ground back at him, not one to shy away, and his leg pressed her lips apart. The pelvis behind her now insisted against her rear and a member was firmly pressed against her part not leaving her butt for any motion. She thought she could distinguish, through skirt and denims, where ended the shaft and where was the head. That penis' sided to side motions remained slight compared to the back/forth, up and down motions of her dance.

'Dance,' she thought, 'this is quickly turning into a fuck.' The newcomer woman watched on, as did that man to her left. Sometimes the woman made eye contact while she sipped her drink, but as soon as the drink went down so did her eyes. This song had only been on about a minute to this point. She ground onto the knee to the front and felt her moisture well up – hard now, harder. The hand from the rear slipped down to her waist and held her firmly to that man's pelvis. She wasn't even sure that her skirt wasn't up so far in the back that he wasn't rubbing raw denim on her ass. There that man's wrist rolled a couple of times and her pink top, because of it's tightness, climbed her tummy a bit.

Making eye contact with college girl again she met a straw-playing grin that seemed to say 'You know what's next.' In her head girly continued the conversation with 'Want some of your own, bitch, or do you want this too?' which must have played across her face as the grin broadened to a playful laugh.

The man in front was now firmly ahold of her hips as she danced up his knee – his thigh really. Between that and the firm hold from the back, where a hand had found it's way into the bottom of her top, she was well held in place. Soon she had bucked up enough onto the thigh she was on, at, and then over-standing, that she was on her toe tips. Now she was fully grinding the blue slacks, and only the leg within supported her weight. Her clitoris rolled back and forth on his thigh. Wrinkles hiked in the pant held her pussy open and trickled her warm wetness out from within. Once, twice, a dozen times she felt a flutter – up there. She felt pulled and then bent a bit.

Pushing on her stomach sought to pull her back, bend her backwards slowly as that hand rose slowly, inexorably under her tight shirt. She felt the pressure on her rear slide down. Oh, there was his head, a big one to be noticeable through the thick jeans. Then it was too low, it was below her. If he made a sudden rise now his pants, his erect pole would definitely drag her skirt up in back to show her full buttocks and, in fact, everything from the waist down. This excitement was frightening the typical part of her that lives in people who walk through a pedestrian life, but there was a part of her that began soaking this up. She was flushed, she was wet, her nipples were pert and what she worried about a minute before, that he was going to grab her breast, was now a desire. The new motion he was applying, that man from the rear, was actually sliding her. Beat at a time she was sliding off the thigh that penetrated her stance from the front so that she was sure that she was leaving a trail, 'like a snail,' she thought. She reached with a hand to actually touch the slacks where she'd been with one hand and she could feel the moisture. Off one leg she was pulled and right onto the waiting lap of the man to the back. His questing hand had reached the point where his fingers met her bra; what would that do next? His pressing motion resumed to her rear as she was seated on one side of his lap. This brought the outline of his cock against her cheek with more pressure than he'd had before since her weight was much of the force. The man to the front had been mostly bounced back and she, trying to be a good sport, took on of his hands in hers. That gesture slipped to finger tips to finger tips as the still unseen stranger's lap became her pervasive experience.

Two minutes into this song? Three? Was it half over? She closed her eyes and held one hand up, around, over to hold her hair off to one side. There was a breath at her bare neck. This man's other hand came up to her hip to steady her on his lap. Something new caught her attention from the front. That pounding denim clad rod hard on her tush made her butt bounce more noticeably, oh this meant that her skirt had ridden up in the back enough to be bare at the bottom half. A new surface tapped against her knees, a new person. At a slurp sound she opened her eyes to find that the girl that had been to her right had filled in the space to her front. College girl finished her drink and handed off the cup, but the straw remained between pursed lips.

That young woman supplanted girly's first partner and now was dancing her own knees onto her thighs just above the knee. Her legs were still pretty much as parted as they had been moments before, but she dared not look down to see just how much of herself was out there. A sly, head lowered look alternated between our heroine's face and her crotch, which was indeed totally visible from the front. The bottom of the newcomer's skirt fluttered back and forth delicately on one creamy semi-asian toned thigh. Even higher she pressed, slowly, and she reached out one slender hand to girly's hip, no; lower, to the fold of her hip to her leg, bent from sitting on the thrusting man's lap.

Thrusts bounced her soft ass, thrusts parted her cheeks, thrustscaught her breath and thrusts brought fingers up the final step to clutch at her support bra. They just pulled it down, down, down. Still inside her shirt, but rolled up beneath her boobs it propped them up even higher as they bounded free and bounced with a thrust.

Her own thrill that had crept up a bit when she was riding her first dance partner's leg, had retreated, but not vanished. Instead it hovered, waiting excitedly, but nervously to see what was next. Now, as her nipples reached full anticipatory swell, as this attractive, sly-smiling woman rubbed thigh to thigh and climbed higher still, as her skirt rolled up the last stage to uncover her bare bottom, that feeling danced back into view. She felt her opening part with what must have been a noticeable gush from below. She again felt a growing from within, warm, vibrating loosely to the music like the cover of a stereo speaker.

The thrusting cock upon which she basically sat was grinding denim against her anus with impunity now, which brought a bit of friction past her pussy She must be stamping his pants with each bounce, wetting them with excited juices. She realized that from no direction now was her pussy concealed, and most who cared to look would be able to see her lips part. The woman in front had the most clear view of course, but had gotten into the dance more and moved her head more. It was both that woman's hands that now held girly's hips. New people pressed in from the sides, and this song jumped immediately to a third lighter, but faster and bouncier tune. It was an old song from a local's favorite that beckoned all to "Smile, smile one more time." The thrusts on her ass became more of a bounce and alleviated the grind a bit, but her stability still seemed ensured. The hand inside her top helped steady her by firmly clasping her left breast, though the right one remained free to heave up, also forward by her own motions. One firm nipple pressed warmly into a strong hand while the other showed against the fabric it held taut. She closed her eyes again and she was aware that a little "uh" escaped her lips with each bounce now, aware that this was so little like dancing and so much like fucking, aware that the girl in front of her was leaning forward or being pushed forward from behind.

Her elusive orgasm still hovered, having been denied twice tonight before this like some curious pet still waiting to see what was next. Her hand holding her own hair back from one side found a reminder in the dried crusted hairs concealed by her long locks. The hand holding her hip began a quest of its own. At the same time the thighs riding up her own brought contact with satiny panties that stroked like an explorer's row boat at the tide-lapped beach of her own lap. That girl's hair tickled her cheek and the hem of her looser skirt gently fanned a breeze against girly's open inner labia. She was sure she was trickling down her thigh to where she would moisten the other girl's tightly planted leg. She also felt a trickle tickle down around the curve of her ass to further wet the pants of the man who thrust against her with less abandon and more intent. For him it was a dry hump, for her it was all wet.

She opened her eyes and could see the side of the other woman's head who's now audible breathing had developed a deeper tone. Looking further she could see down that woman's back she could see her own first partner to this round of dancing. He and the other girl were engaged in a dry hump of her own; or was it? From where she was she couldn't tell for sure. Was her skirt up over her rear, were her panties down around her ass, just low enough to get at her pussy from the back of her bent forward form? Maybe not as she thought she could feel the other girl's pussy grind her leg now, high up. Still she imagined penetration as that woman was in the throes of something. Some hand had left her own hip and was working it's way down her hance.

It was the larger, masculine one, the one that matched the one that still firmly held her left tit. Her right tit still responded to her moves to the music, though she had long lost track of how much was her movement and how much was pushed through her. There was not room in her blouse for all this and she knew the bottom of her top must be rising and would maybe soon display that bundled up bra. The other, hovering hand rounded the curve of her thigh high-up, had to actually slip against the grinding satin of the other girl, to finally hike firmly against the place girly's leg met her labia. The other girl, breathy sounds still in girly's, ear turned her head with an "Ah, huh!" and looked down, but couldn't see past where her own skirt flopped at their meeting point. That contact that had successfully covered girly's exposed vagina was brief as college girl pressed back against her own grinding and nestled her head against girly's neck.

The panties lifted off her thigh, but the firm masculine hand that had found its way down there pressed up; now index finger parted her labia. Now index and middle fingers were there, parting and the lips engulfed the slight pain that tapped at her clitoris. Now her orgasm made itself more known; still nervously, but welling up. Now pounding thrusts from behind and below had slowed, diminished, to just enough to accommodate a pair of fingers that stroked one twat and rammed home at the button at the front. Now her breath was in hitches and she heard the other woman's breath do the same. Was she penetrated? How? That woman backed off her lap enough to be able to see the handling girly's pussy was getting. She was bent pretty far forward, was she going down there herself? Now she could see that one of that girl's dance partner's hands had disappeared from her hip. So that's what, they were both getting fingered to orgasm parallel. Now the other girl let out a yelp close to the ear that could be heard over the music a little and in a surprise move, she brought a kiss up to girly's mouth. Now she received the kiss after a millisecond of wide-eyed surprise. Now. Now. Now, now, now something was coming.