The Devils Threeway 1

The Devil's Threeway

"You really aren't going to come out?"

"I dunno," I said. "I have a midterm in two days."

"

Danielle...

" Heather said, her voice slipping into a high-pitched whine. "It's Halloween."

"I'm sure my professor will take that excuse," I retorted. "Could you sign a permission slip? Please excuse Dani from the test, she had a frat party to attend."

"Jesus, get over yourself," Heather said. "A few hours won't kill you. Though I might if I have to hear you whine again about how you haven't made any friends at Towson."

Truth be told, I barely considered myself a student at Towson. I know, I know, it's a perfectly good school. But I didn't start pulling my grades together until junior year, and by then I had my heart set on the University of Maryland.

Unfortunately, I'd been far too late in getting my act together to join girls like Heather who took the important shit seriously from the start of high school.

For me, the first few years of adolescence had proved as distracting to me as I was to the boys in my class. At first, I shrank from the attention that came from developing earlier. Like every girl, part of me felt super-conscious about my body, especially when it seemed like my chest would never stop growing.

There was a definite sense of tension in my home. I was an only child, living alone with my very conservative father who did his best to avoid acknowledging my blossoming womanhood. Maybe if my mother hadn't split so early, someone would have been there to guide me along. Instead, I found myself struggling through the various sizes on my own, depending on check-out girls for advice and often suffering for weeks with ill-fitting bras until I could summon the courage to admit I needed another size.

And each mistake was so fucking expensive!

Eventually, I went with a friend to Victoria's Secret and finally got measured for a 36 D bra, which I paid for with birthday money. And for a few months, imbued with a new sense of confidence at finally feeling right in my clothes, I enjoyed my body.

Suddenly, I felt hot.

My body certainly didn't look like any other freshman girl. And for a brief period of time, I turned into one of those bitchy girls who knew it.

I flirted and teased. I did that thing common for teenagers, dating boys for a few weeks at a time, thinking I was in love, only then they would push things further, trying to see and feel what was underneath my shirt.

I just wasn't ready.

I let myself get pressured into sex a few times, finding it largely unsatisfying. I tried pumping the brakes on everything, but I'd acquired a certain reputation. After a few dates, when I wouldn't go farther, everything would suddenly end. Like the only thing that mattered was my body. I hated being treated like an empty-headed hottie, a masturbatory vessel for everyone's amusement. Worse, I heard the whispering from the other girls, insinuating that I was some kind of whore. By the time I realized what had happened, so many classmates had already formed their stratified clicks that make up high school.

Not to mention that because our entire campus had barely a thousand students, there simply wasn't much room to suddenly redefine myself. Still, I tried. I studied my ass off - I wanted to transform myself. I wanted people at school to know me for my brains instead of my boobs. I found myself regularly dressing down, trying to minimize the attention me and my boobs would get.

Mercifully, my time at Hereford High School came to an end. But I hadn't scored high enough on the ACT to make up for my underwhelming GPA. I tried to consider myself lucky to be accepted at Towson, where I could still live at home. But the smart kids all went to College Park, including Heather, who had pretty much been my only friend senior year.

And here she was inviting me to a party on her campus.

Part of me knew it was ridiculous, but Baltimore County had a bad reputation. There was a bit of bad mouthing between our schools. We considered them our rivals. Truthfully, I doubt Maryland even thought much about us at all. Still, there was the insane thought that if anyone found out that I was a Tiger, relentless bullying would immediately follow.

After all, if I was smart enough, I'd be there already...

"Well," I said, scraping for an excuse. "What am I even going to wear?"

"Pick out something black and red," Heather said. "The sluttier the better. I'm on my way, so don't you dare try to fucking bail on me."

So here I was, a few seconds later, staring at myself in the full-length mirror, hoping to hell that my father had already turned in for the night.

There was no way I would be able to leave the house looking like this.

I'm five foot six, with long brown hair with blonde streaks and a perfectly toned body. Though I wanted to be respected for my brain, I never let myself go. I didn't have abs, but underneath my breasts, my waist narrowed nicely into a tight v shape. I was thin enough, not so much that my ribs were visible or anything, but I exercised daily.

I pulled on a pair of black yoga pants that left little to the imagination. There wasn't quite a camel toe in the front, but there was a clear imprint where anyone could see my thong if they looked closely enough. Rather than trying to find something else, I took them off, discarding my panties. There was something so intimate about the soft fabric pressing against my closely shaven pussy that quickly excited me. Turning around, looking at my backside, I could see each round cheek as the fabric almost clung to display my crack.

The only thing I owned that would have possibly worked was a red crop top that left my long, narrow belly-button completely exposed. It wasn't much better at hiding my breasts. I tried it with and without a bra, deciding that the straps on my only comfortable matching bra really stood out too much. Despite their size, my breasts only sloped down a little, keeping both quarter-sized nipples pointed horizontally.

Maybe it was seeing myself, dressed to my potential for the first time in months. Or it could have been the prospect of going to a party without any underwear. Whatever it was, the tips of my nipples hardened against the fabric. I could see large nubs of each against the fabric. I took a deep breath, my tits almost popping out of the top. Again I considered scrapping the whole thing.

This was way too slutty.

But I didn't have much else to work with, certainly nothing else red or black that might go with a Halloween costume. Plus, Heather was bringing something for me to wear, maybe this would just go underneath.

I worked on my make-up, dolling myself up for the first time in months. I had to go over my eyes twice, barely convinced they were even. I looked in the mirror one last time, then my phone went off, Heather texting to let me know she was outside.

I put on a white fake fur coat, covering up my scandalous outfit. Even still, I shivered in the cool October air. I scurried out the backdoor, running up to the passenger seat.

At least Heather was dressed sexy. She wore this bright yellow dress, cut strategically to emphasize her smaller bust line. Her hair was done up into a bun, looking exactly like Belle from Beauty and the Beast in that iconic song.

"Well, what do you think?"

"You look gorgeous!" I said. "I just feel a little silly compared to your costume."

"It was only like 30 bucks on Amazon," Heather said.

"Fuck, I wish I would have thought of that."

"Show me what you're working with," Heather said. "I didn't bring too much, so it's really up to you to sell it."

I struggled out the coat, feeling my tube top almost come off as I adjusted. I felt unbelievably self-conscious, like Heather would judge me as looking too slutty and stupid to come along. Instead, she simply presented me with the options.

Her eyes lingered on my chest, not bothering to hide how she gawked at how the top accentuated the curves of my breasts.

"Okay, that works," She said, handing me the rest of the costume.

It wasn't a lot. A black cat's tail that clipped onto the back of my yoga pants, a pair of devil horns, and a plastic pitchfork.

"Really?" I asked, incredulous.

"It's last-minute," Heather said. "Besides, you pull it off."

"Are you sure I'm not showing too much skin?" I asked. "I don't want everyone in College Park thinking I'm a slut."

"It's Halloween!" Heather insisted. "Everyone gets to be a bit of a slut! Really, Danielle, your boobs are the only way the costume works."

We spent the nearly hour-long drive catching up, talking about school, me catching her up on the local gossip. Not that I knew much of anything. Most of my life was consumed with studying, trying to work my way into a better school.

Still, it was nice to just have a night out.

And after a while, I forget about how revealing my clothes were. I stopped overthinking the evening and started to have fun.

"Wow, this is nice," I said.

"Alpha Epsilon Pi," Heather said. "My brother got us the invitation."

"He lives here?"

"He did," Heather said. "They seemed to frown on students staying at the frat after graduation."

"Right..." I said, feeling foolish.

Looking at the marvelous house, I understood why so many students were willing to endure a series of swats, smacks, and other humiliating tasks in order to live in such opulence. Two stories high, at the entrance stood the iconic white pillars, leading into a large kind of foyer were maybe a hundred UM students mingled.

I decided to leave my coat in the car, not wanting to spend the evening wondering about it. So instead of nervously walking up to the mansion, I nearly ran, trying to limit my exposure to the chilly October air.

I should have felt more self-conscious, but again I forgot about the skin I was showing until I reached the front porch. At the door, a dour looking pledge took down our information. At first, the freshman was all business, his eyes focused on the list. It was worse wondering when he would notice us, or if what was impossibly risqué to me would even register with this crowd.

Then he really looked at us.

His eyes darted down. He started with Heather, who made an amazing Belle, only to stop, giving me a lingering look. There was no mistaking it. He was brazenly staring at my tits.

And given the rushed nature of my Devil costume, I accidentally had communicated to everyone that I wanted to be seen as a sexy object. To be objectified as another dolled-up Halloween slut. Heather had a good costume, a fun character to emulate. I was wearing plastic horns and a barely noticeable black tail. The only thing noteworthy about my costume was how it emphasized my tits and ass - otherwise it would have been just an outfit.

The pledge didn't look away, even as I glared back. His eyes were absolutely glued to me. I followed his stare, looking down and realizing that my nipples were completely erect, bulging out from the cold. Only there was nothing I could do. Until they calmed down, everything would be able to see the points of my nipple through my top.

I blushed.

After a long pause, he motioned for us to make our way into the party. Music blared from an unknown speaker, with some people dancing in the large open room. Even still, it wasn't like what I expected from the movies. My first college party seemed at once underwhelming, nothing like the all-encompassing rendition of Shout or the wild antics of Van Wilder. It was more like the awkward, almost absent-minded shuffling that goes along with a high school dance.

Apparently even students at Maryland are subject to the same insecure social stand-offs. Maybe the party was just getting started, but nothing was really going on. There seemed to be almost a puerile line separating the men and women, with a few notable exceptions. It was as though the residents were waiting for us to introduce ourselves...

"Fuck... we are way too early!" Heather said.

"It's after 11..." I said.

"And I used to be so impressed by you," Heather smirked. "In high school you were too cool to even talk to. Look at you now, ready to turn into a pumpkin at midnight..."

"Heather, can I ask you something awkward?"

"See I hate questions like that," Heather said. "The only way for me to decide if it's too awkward will be after you ask it. Then it's too late."

"Come on!"

"Okay, go ahead."

"Are my nipples too obvious?"

"They are super obvious," Heather said. "Danielle, you might as well be topless."

She didn't say it as though admonishing me. Her tone made the statement almost complimentary. Still, I must have looked dejected, but she rushed to save the sentiment.

"In a good way though," Heather said. "Look around, do you see that slutty cop? Or the cowgirl with assless chaps? It's a frat party."

I looked around the room and saw what she meant. Though I stood out, more than a few girls were testing the bounds of modesty. There were some pretty cool cosplays, a Lara Croft with a chest hugging top, a few Harley Quinn's, even a scantily clad Cameran San Diego. But the winner for the least clothing went to this blonde with a petite frame, dressed as Eve, with only a fake snake draped around her nipples along with a skin colored thong.

"I'm going to say hi to this guy," Heather said. "Will you be okay for a few minutes?"

"Sure..." I said, unconvincingly.

"Just talk to someone," Heather said, before disappearing.

I stood awkwardly for a few minutes; the crowd was really beginning to pick up. Except for a few lovers already grinding up against each other, most were clustered into groups. The UM students put a lot of effort into their costumes, as though it was the focus of their studies. I saw a man dressed up as a Lego man, his face painted yellow. Another woman dressed as a cluster of grapes, wearing nothing except a bunch of purple balloons.

My favorites were two friends, one a tiger, the other a shorter blonde dressed in a striped red shirt, Calvin and Hobbes.

And I just stood there, awkward and alone, completely unlike anything I'd ever been in high school. Here, outside of Baltimore County, only a few miles from DC, I wasn't the prettiest girl for miles around. Yeah, I was still hot. But like most women, I couldn't help constantly comparing myself to every other beauty in the room, especially those who actually put effort into their outfits.

Alone, I felt exposed in more ways than one. I was the outsider, the townie who couldn't hack it academically. It was ridiculous, I know, but every eye seemed riveted on me, glaring at my breasts, judging me. I believed at any moment I would be discovered as another Bawlmer hick, only good enough for eyeful.

Underneath though, something hypocritical billowed up to the surface of my consciousness. Despite my insistence on being known for my brain, I couldn't help but relish in the attention, the quick peeks many of the men would make. I caught a Ninja Turtle staring gape-jawed, meeting his eyes only to have him quickly become very fascinated with the wall.

And I didn't hate it.

Actually, I wanted him to come over and talk to me. He was shirtless, wearing cargo shorts, a blue bandana and a turtle shell backpack. He had a strong jawline, that kind of messy dark brown hair usual in fashion. He looked good, rocking such a simple outfit.

Somehow that made me feel a little better.

If he looked sexy with so little effort, maybe I'd created too much of a double standard for myself. I scanned the crowd, looking for Heather, but finding her seemed impossible given the growing crowd.

"Can I get you a drink?"

I turned and saw the voice belonged to a man dressed in a hastily assembled angel costume. He had wrapped a bed sheet into a kind of toga that showed off his muscular arms. Above his dirty blonde hair was a halo sculpted out of aluminum foil.

"Aren't I supposed to be tempting you?"

"Oh, you're definitely doing that," He said. "I'm Gabriel."

"Isn't that a little on the nose?" I said.

He laughed.

"Not really. This is my work outfit," Gabe said. "I just figured why spend the money."

"Oh of course," I answered. "And here I was, thinking that someone else hadn't bothered to plan their costume."

"It could be worse," Gabe said. "Look at that guy..."

He pointed to the man I saw before, the one who painted his face yellow and put on a construction outfit to look like a Lego man. It was a solid effort overall. Then, Gabe put his hands on my shoulders, moving to show me another man who somehow sculpted an oversized Lego head out of yellow plastic. The same material covered the entire top half of the body, his arms complete with those claw-like hands.

"He's got about ten or fifteen minutes to enjoy the party before he figures out someone tried harder at the same idea..."

We both let out a little laugh.

"So, shouldn't we really be over there?"

I pointed at the nearly naked Eve.

"I could take the left shoulder, you the right."

"I think you already got to her," Gabe said. "But if you are that into having a threeway... I guess I could take one for the team."

"Maybe that's not the threeway I'd be after," I teased. "The two of us could console off-brand Lego Man."

"Yeah, but who knows if he's anatomically correct. We may have a Ken Doll situation."

"Why take the chance?" I said, trying to change the subject.

I looked sexual enough without adding to it by talking about a smutty topic.

"So, do you go to school here?"

"Sometimes," Gabe said. "Other times I sleep in. I live upstairs. I'm guessing by that question you aren't from here?"

"Towson," I said quietly.

"That's smart," He said. "You can save a few thousand bucks a year."

"Yeah..." I said. "I might transfer."

"What's your major?" He said. "I know, I know, two more years and I never have to start a conversation like that."

"It's better than starting by suggesting a threeway," I couldn't help needling him a little.

"Me?" He clasped his hands in prayer. "You're the one thinking of taking two bricks at once."

I laughed, a little uneasy at my own interest in the subject. Without any sort of relationship for the past few years, I'd grown to enjoy a lot of smut online while pleasing myself. Most were things I'd never actually pictured myself talking about, let alone doing.

"So, what do you study," He asked again.

"English," I said.

"Oh, then why bother?" He retorted. "I doubt UM has a better copy of the Canterbury Tales."

"What about you?"

"Biology... a big part of my course work is trying to develop a pick-up line for the major that falls between too nerdy and too easy."

"You're doing okay so far," I said honestly.

"Yeah?" He said.

We both were.

I couldn't believe how well I was managing this kind of confidence. It was as though part of me had reverted to the person I was back at the beginning of high school, minus the bitchiness. I forgot about the outfit, except in those moments when Gabe would chance a glance at my chest. Even then, he wasn't off-putting, never forgetting to make eye-contact.

He made me really enjoy the attention.

At least now I could finally admit it.

We flirted and teased each other, but more than anything I enjoyed his banter. He had this quick wit to him, and I prided myself on how well I kept up. Yes, I was nearly naked, but I didn't feel like he was just trying to fuck me.

I mean - he clearly was.

Who isn't trying to hook-up at a Halloween party?

But the perception matters. I guess I can't really describe it. I know that for some men, walking the line between being too eager and too aloof is an agonizing source of frustration. I also can't say I really speak for most girls on this subject - for me I had only been turning down guys again and again, usually the same guys, from the same town.