Day One in Ashton Flats

I was nude and up to my neck in cool, rippling pond water, and Jennie--the topless girl on the bank--was putting on my jeans. Her own clothes were piled beside the rock where we had stripped together before we dove into the nippy water for a hot weather swim.

"There are three kinds of men," she was saying. "The first kind—" she pulled my tee-shirt on, covering the perfect tits that—in conjunction with her awesome legs and her cock-inspiring ass—had lured me there on my first day at my new school; my first day in the state, too, for that matter. I felt like a total idiot. Girls who are as hot as she is don't just walk up to total nobodies on the first day of classes and invite them to skip for a naked swim before lunch. But that totally sexy smile, that totally sexy body, and that totally innocent gleam in her eyes had convinced my rapidly swelling cock that, well, that apparently they did.

"The first kind runs home naked and hopes that no-one sees them. Of course, you've got about eight miles to run, and you live on the far side of town from here."

"How do you know where I live?"

"In Ashton Flats? This place is tiny. Everybody knows everybody, and everybody's known you were coming for weeks now." I stared. "Your dad couldn't stop bragging on you to Mrs. Wilson. She's the only Realtor in town, and she happens to be my mom."

"But—"

"A little research, a smidge of interlibrary loan, and every girl in a thirty mile radius had a picture of David Barnley in his whitey-tighties from that underwear ad you did last summer. Nice ass, by the way."

"Oh great."

"You have no idea how much competition there was to be the girl who lured you out here." I didn't know what to say, so I just stared. She'd been soaking wet when she pulled on my jeans and tee-shirt, and they were both pretty much sodden, and entirely clinging to her. I hate to admit it, but I was starting to get hard again.

"Weren't you afraid that doing this'd make me, I don't know—hate your conniving, slutty ways?"

"A little," she admitted. "But I knew that I'd see you nude, and the idea of stripping off in front of the most interesting male to live in Ashton Flats since Brad Marshton moved away pretty much made up for that." She blushed, and involuntarily crossed her arms over her chest for a second. Then she let them drop to her sides. She hadn't bothered with her bra as she'd redressed, so my shirt outlined her boobs. Her nipples were practically pulsing they were so hard. My cock, cold as it was in the water, clenched and stood, pointing right at her mouth.

"So the whole plan was to make me run home in the nude so you could laugh, or get an eyeful, or whatever?"

"Not exactly."

"What, then?"

"Well, like I said, the first kind runs home naked. The second kind is either so secure or so ashamed that he'll run home in my clothes." I looked at the lacy bra and panties laying daintily atop the "Daddy's Girl" bellyshirt and the matching neon miniskirt.

"Not gonna happen," I said. "What's the third kind?"

"The third kind of guy—the kind of guy I hope you are—will do whatever it takes to get me to give him his own clothes back."

"I'll bite. What do I have to do?"

"Well, first, you have to come out of the water and give me a hug so I know there's no hard feelings."

I've always known when I'm trapped. And as traps go, I had to admit this one was getting interesting. I climbed out of the water, knowing that she was checking me out, and my boner intensified. "I'll hug you, but," I started, and then chickened out of the hard-on joke I almost said.

She swallowed hard, and blushed beet red, I guess realizing that my cock was going to press up against her when we hugged. I laughed, and hugged her hard, pulling her lap into mine and rubbing my hands across her panty-less blue-jeaned ass; a good offence is the best defense. I might be the laughingstock, but I was gonna make her work for it.

She moaned.

I blinked. Then I kissed her.

Our tongues intertwined like snakes in heat, and her hips began to undulate. In a matter of seconds, I had her pants—my pants—down to her ankles, and I sort of pitched forward as my cock slid into her sexy cunt and she dropped to the ground under me. "Oh my God!" she gasped. "They're watching you fuck me. Yes! Fuck me hard!"

Instantly, I felt a thousand eyes on my nude body. Eyes watching my ass, watching my cock slide into and back out of that slick youthful pussy, and I felt like a God! I throbbed inside her, and began thumping into her harder and harder. She cried out. She begged for more. "Come in me!" She yelled. "Make me come!"

I redoubled my pounding thrusts into her. "I need your cock! I need you in me now!" she screamed. If there were people watching us, they heard her, even if they were using binoculars.

"Your nasty pussy is mine!" I growled, my voice thick with desire-gravel and heat.

"It is," she whispered. "You own my cunt, I swear," she whimpered into my ear with the hottest surrender I have ever heard, before or since, and we came together like tender rockets and steam-heat flesh.

I lay atop her heaving body, my cock still stiff inside her, my hips still moving gently with the afterglow, when a twig snapped.

I looked around, and there were women coming out of the trees, stepping up from behind rocks. Easily fifteen girls watching me fuck their friend. They were blushing, and breathing, and wide-eyed with jealousy...and anger.

"Jenny, you bitch. You weren't supposed to fuck him. You were supposed to make him cave."

Her pussy clenched around my half-firm cock, and she made a wordless sound.

"You were supposed to make him—"

"Oh, shut up Lucy," someone said.

"He is still naked," someone else pointed out.

"Forget it, Jill," A tallish girl with light brown hair to her shoulders, a somewhat angular almost boyish body, and big hands said. "We'll just have to ask him. Jenny made sure of that."

"Ask me what?"

"Ashton Flats is kinda small," she started. Someone snorted. "Well, alright, very small."

"No cute guys."

"Not even one."

"Mill's brother's kinda sweet looking," said Jill.

"He's my brother."

"I know..."

The tall girl stood in front of me, feet shoulder-width apart, her hands on her hips. "Ok," she said. "Here it is.'" She cleared her throat; every girl in the clearing held her breath. Whatever she had to say, this one had some serious stones just to think about spilling it, I could tell. She paused on the edge of admitting it, and then she just let go, allowing the truth to spill out, honest as a waterfall.

"We're girls," she said. "We aren't supposed to say so, but we're fucking horny." My cock now resting, visible, on the thigh of the girl they'd all just watched me fuck, there wasn't much I could say to that.

"And," she continued, "There are no guys around here. When we found out about you, we just about killed each other trying to be the first one you'd notice." She glared at Jenny. "And eventually, we realized that we could kill each other off, or we could work together. We could, uh, share."

"She," someone said, pointing at Jill, "was supposed to make you promise to do anything to get your clothes back."

"As in promise to be the town...bitch?"

"Something like that," the tall girl said.

"Only more like stud," someone added helpfully.

"Just...under your thumbs, right?"

"Yup."

"But she ruined it?" They glared in response. Poor Jenny! "I can't believe you sluts! Christ!" I was sort of pissed, and a little bit embarrassed, but also pretty much getting turned on all over again. They were all so ashamed I had to move fast or they'd never be able to look at me again, and I'd never get laid again as long as I lived in Ashton Flats.

"Sorry," someone said.

"Oh, shut it," I blurted. "Sorry doesn't cut it. You bitches owe me one."

"We what?" Asked Jenny, shocked and abashed.

"You most of all!" I said. "You owe me bad!"

"What can we do to make it right?"

"Strip," I said. "Right now. Every damn one of you." They were completely embarrassed, completely humbled, and—as I had figured on—completely ready to comply. They stripped faster than a wet dream has any right to hope for. "Throw your clothes into the pond." They did. And more than one of them was starting to smile. "Jenny—get out of my clothes." She did.

"This girl," I pointed at the tall one, "says you fought over me. She says you wanted to own my naked ass. If she's right, drop to your knees." Jenny, Jill, the tall girl, and several others dropped right away. A few others moved more slowly, but in a matter of seconds, every girl in the clearing was on her knees in front of me, nude as a birthday slut, thereby admitting that each wanted me and my sex.

"Well now I own you. All of you. Each of you. Don't I?" They nodded. "I can't hear you." I pointed to Jenny. "Do I own your hot slutty puss?"

"Yes, David."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, you own my naked slutty cunt."

"What about you?" I pointed to Jill.

"You can own my mouth, David." One after another, the girls swore that I owned something of theirs, that I could have them some sexy way. Blowjobs. Handjobs. Anything you say. They all swore to be my chattel, my thralls. And I stood hard and ready before my newfound harem.

And when they waded into the cattails to fish their sodden clothes, I watched them.

Ripples silvering their ripe white flesh, their reflected nipples shivering in the cool evening pond, the cluster of naked girls moved slowly, subtly contemplating their newly annexed lusts. Ready for anything, their eyes glistened like approaching fireflies, like heavenly earthbound stars.