Leaving Orchard Cree

Cheryl had lived her whole life in Orchard Creek, and she was bored.

She was fed up with the sameness, the endless routine, the very fact that the people around her never seemed to want anything beyond their simple predictable existence. Nothing ever changed in Orchard Creek, and she hated it.

Orchard Creek had one bus stop, and an interstate bus that passed through it every three hours during the day, every six hours during the night. Cheryl had never ridden the bus past the next town, which was called Blue Bell and only slightly larger than Orchard Creek, but she did know that it eventually ended up in New York City. Not that she had ever been. To most people in Orchard Creek, New York City it was a vast wasteland of bohemian decadence. To Cheryl, it represented an escape from the stultifying prudery of small-town life.

She wasn't a virgin, no; her one act of sexual rebellion had occurred with Johnny Shaw, in his parents' car after a movie date. The whole episode had been messy for her and anticlimactic for him, and ultimately disappointing for both. The two of them had avoided eye contact with each other ever since. That was just one more thing that helped to convince her that real excitement lay far outside the boundaries of Orchard Creek.

Afternoons after school Cheryl would go to the library to use their public access computer. Her parents wouldn't allow her to get her own computer, not with the sort of filth on the internet one was constantly hearing about on the news. She, on the other hand, loved the internet, and the way it allowed her to escape the confines of her small-town upbringing. Online she could be a lot more worldly, often recounting fantasies as if they'd been actual experiences. She even had a special pen pal. His name was Lee, a twenty-year-old student of some sort who seemed to spend most of his time attending raves. Lee was the most interesting person she had ever met, and when he told her in his latest e-mail that he would be riding the interstate bus on his way to a rave in New York City, she eagerly accepted his invitation to come along.

***

Cheryl stood at the bus stop, shifting her weight from one foot to another. In preparation for her night out she'd gone through her entire closet before deciding on a sleeveless khaki blouse, jean shorts, and platform sandals. She didn't know what to do with her hair so she'd finally left it alone. Trying to make herself look as little like a small-town girl as possible, she'd put on heavy makeup, then wiped it off again. Finally she opted instead for a simple metallic lipstick that she knew looked good against her tanned skin.

As the bus pulled into view, she shifted again. She hadn't told anyone where she was going. She'd never ridden the bus on her own before, and here she was, preparing to make a trip to a strange city with a boy she'd never met in person. Well, she wanted adventure. Perhaps she'd fit in so well over there that she'd never come back. That would certainly show the folks back in Orchard Creek.

"Ticket to New York City, please." As she paid the driver she scanned the rows of seats. She didn't have the first clue as to what Lee might look like. The only person who looked age-appropriate was a young Asian man slouched in the back row of seats. Cheryl eyed him with fascination. The only Asians she had ever seen in person were the middle-aged couple who owned the only Chinese restaurant in Orchard Creek. This stranger was small and slim, barely taller than she was, with almond shaped eyes and golden skin. He was wearing a black t-shirt and faded jeans. Engineer boots. A small gold hoop dangled from his eyebrow. To Cheryl he was exotic, beautiful, and - in the context of a place like Orchard Creek - about as alien as a visitor from another planet.

She slid in next to him. "Are you Lee?"

He gave her a sly smile. "I could be."

"I'm Cheryl." She settled down next to him. "Do I look all right?"

"You look fine. You've never been to a rave before, have you?"

"Course I have." She felt like an idiot. He had to know she was lying. "Just, you know, not in the city."

Lee shrugged. "Whatever." He settled back in the bus seat and closed his eyes. "Better rest up then. It's going to be a long night."

At least he wasn't going to argue with her. Feeling too nervous and excited to sleep, she leaned back in her seat and stared out the window at the changing scenery. The sky turned orange, then red, and gradually went dark.

Soon they were pulling into a noisy, chaotic bus station. Cheryl didn't think she had seen this many people before in all her life. There must have been more people in this station than in all of Orchard Creek.

Lee took her hand. "Come on," he said, "this way. You ever get lost, just ask anyone for the Port Authority Bust Terminal." Cheryl nodded, barely able to hear him.

They threaded their way through a network of sidewalks and alleys, finally arriving at what looked like an old-fashioned theater building. Lee reached into his back pocket and pulled out two wrinkled pieces of yellow paper. "Invitations," he explained as the bouncer waved them in the door.

The pulsing beat of techno music assaulted Cheryl's ears as soon as she walked inside. The large room was alive with dancing people, many sporting glow-in-the dark batons or necklaces. The stroboscopic black light played surreal patterns across their bodies, making them appear to be jerking like marionettes. The far end of the room was dominated by a stage, the curtains open to display a large armchair.

"What's that?" she asked Lee.

"Just wait, you'll see," he shouted back over the music. Somebody passed him a pair of small blue pills. He popped one immediately and offered the other to Cheryl. When she shook her head no, he shrugged and swallowed that one as well.

The driving beat of the music was infectious, and before long Cheryl had got over her nervousness and was really quite enjoying herself. Lee was an energetic dancer, fluid and graceful in his movements. He surprised her by resting his arms on her shoulders and kissed her, a slow, deep, sensuous kiss that took her breath away. Cheryl looked around and noticed that people all around her were doing the same things, hugging, kissing, and touching.

A girl in a strapless mini-dress had climbed up on the stage and was dancing around the chair doing a striptease. With her back to the crowd, she hiked up her skirt and flashed the crack of her ass out to her audience. She wasn't wearing any panties. She straddled the arm of the chair and began rubbing her crotch back and forth against it as her arms reached around to pull her dress up over her head. She wore nothing underneath.

The room was growing hotter from the close press of dancing bodies. Everybody in the crowd had started shedding their clothes. Lee was dancing shirtless now, his lean hairless chest shining like burnished gold. Cheryl found herself dancing between two tall, statuesque women. One of them was a dark-skinned African-American, the other a pale Nordic looking blonde. They looked like twins, or more appropriately, like photographic negatives of each other. Both of them wore extremely short miniskirts and halter tops.

The striptease artist had finished humping the arm of the chair, and now sat in the middle of the seat with her legs hooked over the armrest. Her juicy pink pussy was completely open to all, and Cheryl found herself staring at it, transfixed. She couldn't remember ever seeing a woman's genitalia exposed like that before. It certainly didn't match any of the pictures they used in sex education classes.

The girl put her hand between her legs and spread open her labia. Then her other hand started massaging her clitoris, which was already pink and swollen in its fold of skin. She slipped one finger into her waiting orifice, then two. Her hips started a slow circular motion and her fingers pushed in and out, in time with the rhythm of the music.

Cheryl felt her mouth start going dry. Her jean shorts felt tight, constricting. Onstage, the girl withdrew her fingers and put them in her mouth. She looked straight out at the crowd, and slowly licked her juices from her hand. She kept the fingers in her mouth as the other hand took over below. Her skin glistened with the sweat of her effort, and her toes began to curl as her body jerked and spasmed to a climax. As she came, her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed back onto the chair in a daze.

White was dancing in front of her now, so close that Cheryl could see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric of her halter. All at once she thought she felt a hand brush softly up the back of her bare thigh. Uncertainly, she moved forward slightly, away from the feathery touch, until she was almost up against White's dancing breasts. White didn't seem to mind, and seemed to thrust her chest forward almost right under Cheryl's chin.

Then the brushing sensation on her thighs returned. Cheryl couldn't move forward any more without falling right against White's chest. She tried to twist her head around, to see behind her. There wasn't any room to turn. The feathery touches continued, persisted, up and down the backs of her thighs. She tried to concentrate on dancing, on the hypnotic techno beat being pumped over the speakers. On the stage, the dancing girl had been replaced by a couple wearing an incomprehensible array of leather straps and chains. As the dancing throng watched and cheered, the man bent the woman over the arm of the chair and began to fuck her from behind.

Somebody, probably the black woman dancing behind her, was definitely stroking the back of her thighs. Cheryl squirmed as the fingertips moved upward, lightly touching the back of her shorts. Then they moved forward and started stroking the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Cheryl felt a strange sensation in her gut. It was hard to stay focused on dancing.

The probing fingers continued upwards, tracing the hem of her shorts between her legs. Her knees quivered. Then all of a sudden they were up inside her shorts, rubbing softly against the crotch of her panties. Cheryl's knees went weak and she staggered against the white woman in front of her. White caught her in her arms and locked the surprised young woman in a kiss. Cheryl gasped as White's tongue slid into her mouth.

Now Black was pressing her body into Cheryl's back, hard enough for Cheryl to feel her nipples against her shoulder blades. Black's lips were on the nape of her neck, her fingers still rubbing Cheryl's panty-covered crotch. The tingle in her belly was growing into a fire, and an oozing wetness had started spreading to her crotch. She realized she'd unwittingly started rocking her hips back and forth in time with Black's motions. White thrust her own hips forward and started grinding herself against Cheryl.

Sandwiched in between the two bodies, Cheryl stumbled back and forth. She put her hands out for support, and they came to rest on White's gyrating hips. Immediately White's hands crept down to Cheryl's rump and started massaging her buttocks. Cheryl's eyes unfocused and she lost track of what was happening onstage. The pleasurable sensations coursing through her body were almost frightening in their intensity.

All of a sudden the rubbing fingers withdrew. Cheryl whimpered in frustration, wanting more, yet embarrassed at her own reaction and the dampness between her legs. Only the anonymity offered by the half-naked crowd kept her from thinking about the shameful spectacle she would have been making of herself otherwise.

Then Cheryl heard the click as the woman behind her reached around her waist and unsnapped her jean shorts, and felt the denim loosen from her hips as her zipper was pulled down. She tried to twist free, but White's embrace left her no room to turn. Then both women's hands were easing the shorts down her legs, pulling her blouse up at the same time. The discarded shorts tangled in her ankles, and she stumbled against White as Black knelt down to strip them off completely. The pulsing black light made Cheryl's white bikini panties glow a bright fluorescent blue.

Cheryl looked about her in consternation. Things were starting to get out of hand. Then White gripped the front of her blouse and spun her around so quickly that it ripped wide open, spewing buttons in all directions. Black caught her mid-spin and locked her mouth in a hard, brutal kiss as White pulled the blouse the rest of the way down her arms.

Cheryl could feel White's breasts and groin push up against her back as White reached around her to untie Black's halter top. The filmy garment hung for a second, pressed up between their bodies, before slithering to the ground at their feet. Fully exposed, Black's breasts were large and rounded, with nipples the size of silver dollars. As if sensing her fascination, Black reached for Cheryl's hands and placed them over her breasts.

Now White had her arms around Cheryl's waist and were massaging Cheryl's mound through her panties. Confused emotions swirled in her head. This didn't happen to nice girls from small towns, girls who helped with the household chores and went to church regularly on Sundays. She looked down and saw in dismay that her own nipples had visibly hardened beneath her white bra.

At some point Cheryl realized that the three of them had been moving closer and closer to the stage. The latest occupants of the armchair, a tall, black-haired dominatrix and her slave, were wrapping up their display and preparing to leave. An embarrassed flush crept over Cheryl's face as she realized that they intended her to be the next act. "No," she protested, "I can't do thaaaaa...." Her plea ended in a moan of pleasure as White dug her fingers into the damp nylon panel between her thighs.

"Great party, huh?'' She turned her head at the sound of the voice. It was Lee, suddenly appearing beside her. She began to say something, but Lee merely flashed her a big smile and a thumbs up before dancing away again, his arm around the waist of a petite girl clad only a g-string.

Still moving in time with the techno beat, Black and White half-danced, half-pulled her up the steps and onto the stage. This was definitely more than she had bargained for. Cheryl looked around for Lee, but he was lost in the crowd again. The sea of dancing bodies was a blur, made even more indistinct by the pulsing strobe lights.

Cheryl was grabbed by both arms and flung sprawling into the chair. The imitation leather seat was hot and slick with sweat and cum. She could feel the wetness on her naked back and thighs and through the thin nylon of her panties. She clamped her knees together and pulled them up to her chest even as the two women tore at her bra. Cheryl felt her breasts bounce slightly as they were popped from the cups, her hardened nipples now pointing straight up at the ceiling. Her hand clawed out blindly, grabbing White's miniskirt, but White merely stepped aside calmly and allowed Cheryl to pull it off completely.

The topless Black and the bottomless White each knelt down on either side of Cheryl, forming a sort of kinky tableau. Each woman gripped one of Cheryl's wrists with one hand and caressed an exposed breast with the other. They leaned forward across Cheryl's squirming body and kissed each other deeply before turning their attention back to Cheryl's nipples.

Cheryl closed her eyes and whimpered, whether from lust or humiliation she couldn't be sure. Her head lolled from side to side. "Noooo..." she pleaded, even as her body arched up to meet the hungry mouths that were now sucking on her breasts. She twisted her hips back and forth on the seat of the leather chair, rubbing the crotch of her moistening panties back and forth against her swollen pussy lips.

Then Black disengaged her lips from Cheryl's nipple. She put her hand between Cheryl's legs and coaxed her knees apart. Cheryl realized that the crotch of her panties was exposed to the eyes of the crowd and wondered if they could see the growing wetness spreading across the white nylon. She made a halfhearted attempt to close her legs, to cover herself, but felt paralyzed by the swirl of conflicting emotions in her head. Every moral fiber of her being knew this was wrong, knew, it was shameful, yet her body thrilled to the flood of new sensations, craving more.

White climbed up on the armchair and straddled Cheryl's body, continuing to attack her breasts, as Black began to rub her hand across Cheryl's panty-covered crotch. Then she felt the woman's finger snake inside the elastic leg of her panties to stroke her engorged labia. Before she realized what was happening, Black's entire hand was inside the panty leg, stretching the elastic, groping in her damp tissues. From her position on the chair she could only see the top of White's head as the blonde woman continued to fondle and suckle her breasts. White too was gyrating her hips around; perhaps Black was doing something to her too, Cheryl couldn't see. Black's fingers found the opening of her hot, wet slit, and probed inside. Cheryl started grinding her hips into Black's hand as Black's palm massaged her clit. All at once she came with a gush, soaking her ruined panties even further. Her hand clamped reflexively around White's halter top, ripping it away.

As the climax subsided, Cheryl struggled to regain some composure. Knowing that an entire room full of people had just witnessed her orgasm was so shameful, so embarrassing, yet it was also exciting in an illicit sort of way. She couldn't explain it. She wondered if she was going to turn into one of those women who thrived on public degradation, and somehow that only made her feel simultaneously more ashamed and aroused.

But the women were not finished with her yet. Without waiting for her to fully recover, Black grabbed Cheryl's soaking panties and yanked hard. The frail fabric tore away easily. Cheryl's entire body flushed crimson. There she was, spread wide open and naked, on shameful display in front of a whole crowd of people. Arousal and mortification vied for dominance in her mind. She tried to speak, but could not form words, only grunts and moans. Oh god, she thought, I sound like an animal.

Suddenly Cheryl felt the black woman's full lips against her labia. It felt strange, intense, especially when the woman's tongue snaked out to slurp away the juices coating her swollen pussy. She flinched away slightly, still hypersensitive after her orgasm. Black kept on licking, more insistently, her tongue warm and soft against Cheryl's clit. Incredulously, Cheryl could feel the arousal building up within herself again. Looking out, she could see that White had pulled off Black's miniskirt. Black's ass was pointing straight out at their audience and White's hand was between her legs.

Cheryl felt a gasping breath vibrate against her pussy as Black orgasmed quickly. Then Black collapsed on the floor and crawled away, and White took over. White's tongue was longer than Black's, and amazingly flexible. It pushed up inside Cheryl's hot slit, and caressed the throbbing walls of her vagina. Cheryl's hands were crawling all over her own breasts, pinching and tweaking her nipples. All at once White's tongue flicked upward, landing squarely on Cheryl's g-spot, and Cheryl came again. Her body shuddered and tightened over and over as she thrashed about. She clamped her hands in White's hair and jammed the blonde woman's face hard against her dripping pussy.

Cheryl had lost all semblance of control. She was insatiable now. She wanted to fuck everyone in the crowd of dancers, male and female alike. She wanted Lee. With a cry, she broke away from the chair, ran to the front of the stage, and launched herself into the sea of bodies.

***

The rising sun reflected off the back of the westbound bus as it traveled the nearly deserted interstate. The few passengers on board were mostly asleep, relaxing to the gentle motion of the bus, except for the lone disheveled girl huddled in the corner of the back row.