FORWARD
So for the first time in this series, it will be told in Third Person. I hope for regular readers the change won't be a distracting one.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE AT LEAST 18 YEARS OF AGE OR OLDER.
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"This is gonna be awesome!"
Jenna kicked back in her lawn chair, enjoying the warm August evening, bubbling over with excitement.
She'd finally received her trust fund money a few weeks ago, and while she'd promised herself not to splurge too often, she wanted to treat the two most special people in her life to a fun night out. When she found out Weezer, Fallout Boy and Green Day were coming to town, she'd immediately convinced both of them to let her buy the tickets.
Tom and Trish sat in their own chairs nearby as the sun slowly sank in the horizon. The concert wasn't due to start for another hour, but they'd arrived early so they could tailgate in the stadium parking lot before the show.
Tom was of course sipping an ice cold beer, and while neither of the ladies were legally old enough to drink, (Jenna having just turned twenty and Trish with her own twentieth birthday coming up,) they'd once again managed to convince Tom to purchase some wine coolers for them.
Tom knew the girls well enough not to worry that they'd overindulge and cause an issue, and with the parking lot packed with thousands of people, almost all of them indulging in alcohol or other forms of recreational stimulants, he doubted they'd even be noticed.
The girls were also smoking a little weed in vape form, taking discreet hits in between sipping their drinks. Tom, however, refrained. Somewhere in his late thirties, marijuana stopped doing anything for him except make him sleepy and paranoid.
As he watched his two young companions chatting excitedly together, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was.
The girls had decided to glam themselves up for the concert. Jenna's natural auburn hair was now streaked with a rainbow of bright colors, (easily washed out, she'd assured him,) while Trish had opted for simple white stripes to highlight her long, black curls.
They'd also glammed up their makeup, using brighter shades than usual, yet still tasteful enough to not look clownish.
At some point over the summer, Trish had gotten contacts, allowing her to now truly show off her beautiful brown eyes and thick lashes.
But it was their outfits that truly excited Tom the most. They'd gone shopping the other day and picked out matching black lycra skirts that were shorter and tighter than anything he'd ever seen either of them wear before. Around their waists they were matching black leather belts with silver studs.
Their legs were covered in black fishnet stockings; on their feet they wore black pumps with lattice cut outs that they both swore were more comfortable than they appeared.
Then there were the tops. This is where they differed, but only slightly. Jenna had taken an old white tank top of Toms and cut off the lower half at the midriff. She'd also ripped the neckline down the middle, leaving her wearing more of a tattered rag that barely covered her small, pert breasts. As usual, she'd forgone a bra, and even now Tom could catch a glimpse of her boobs from the side through the loose, open sleeves, depending on how she moved or bent.
Her Alexandrite gemstone necklace sparkled red in the fading sunlight, the chain dangling just above her freckled cleavage.
Trish's top was only slightly more sensible; a snug, short sleeved deep V-neck crop top with a cross wrapped tie up front that barely contained her ample breasts. Like Jenna's, it was white. And also like Jenna, she wasn't wearing a bra. Her dark nipples stood out quite well under the fabric.
Tom, never much of a fashion mogul, had opted for a much simpler outfit: jeans, sneakers, and a vintage Pink Floyd tee shirt he'd kept for years that finally fit him again now that he'd lost a few pounds.
He couldn't help but notice the stares the girls would get from men passing by, or the funny looks he'd receive as well. Most of them probably thought they were there with their father, which was fine with him. Whatever kept them from coming over and hitting on them.
Jenna stood and went to the cooler. "One more drink, then we should probably head inside."
As she bent over to pull out a bottle, her skirt rode up, revealing the tiny, black G-string she wore under it that left her ass cheeks entirely exposed and only barely covered her other bits.
"Hey, toss me one," called Trish, and as Tom glanced her way, he saw her cross her legs, revealing a matching G-string.
"Jesus," he thought, shaking his head with a grin.
He sat back and drained his beer, looking up at the setting sun and again wondered how he'd gotten so lucky.
Clouds were rolling in, filtering the remaining sunlight with a reddish-orange hue. The forecast called for a mostly clear night with potential rain showers moving through, but they hoped it would pass them by.
"May as well get me a fresh one too, darlin'," he called to Jenna. She brought it to him with a smile and as she leaned over to kiss him, he again caught a glimpse of her tiny tits under her barely there shirt.
"You planning on flashing the entire crowd tonight?" he grinned up at her.
"No," Jenna winked. "Just you."
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Their seats weren't bad for a last minute purchase, on the lower level off to the left of the stage.
Weezer opened the show, and they found their seats just as the band took the stage. Fallout Boy would be the second act, with Green Day closing the night.
The girls were huge fans of all three bands. Tom knew both Weezer and Green Day very well, but was less familiar with Fallout Boy, knowing only a couple of their hits. But he liked what he heard.
The rain started coming down near the end of Weezer's set, and by the time they'd finished, the drizzle had become a downpour. It only lasted several minutes, but long enough to thoroughly soak the audience, including Jenna and Trish, their already revealing tops now rendered all but see-through.
Neither seemed to care and, to be fair, there were a LOT of wet tee-shirts by that point, and more than a few pointy, chilled nipples.
Despite the rain, they enjoyed themselves. Jenna and Trish had been dancing as Weezer played, water running down their faces, smearing their mascara, and they again drew more than a few stares when they pulled Tom up out of his seat between them during the last song, "Buddy Holly," playfully wiggling and gyrating, rubbing their rain-soaked breasts against him or grinding their asses to his crotch.
During the intermission, they decided to get out of the rain and headed for the concession stands inside.
Tom stood in line for a beer and some snacks while the ladies went to the restroom to clean up.
By the time they made it back to their seats, the rain had stopped. The night was still warm enough that they weren't chilly, but the humidity that hung in the air made drying out difficult.
Still, the girls had managed to clean up most of the makeup that had been ruined by the rain. Tom noted with some amusement that Jenna's white tank top was now almost a tie dye, stained with the multiple hues of hair coloring she had used.
She saw his look and laughed. "See? Told ya it washes right out."
Then the lights went down and Fallout Boy took the stage.
They were pretty good, Tom thought, but it was Green Day that truly stole the show that night, with hit after energetic hit.
The rain started again about halfway through their set, but only a light mist. Again, no one cared, the energy in the place more than enough to keep them all warm.
They closed the show with "Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)" and the girls again surrounded Tom on both sides, gently swaying and singing along with the sixty thousand others in attendance.
