This all happened long before the days of AIDS and rampant STDs. Back in the days of free love, where our motto was "If it moves, fondle it." And we did.
Names changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent.
It is my senior year in college, at a spring party at the fraternity house. I am with Beth, a wonderful girl I've been dating for a couple months. She is, I think, very attractive, a very slinky babe by any standards then or now. Overall, she is quite sexy and flirty. Medium height, slender, great legs. She is wearing a standard uniform of the time, a tight jersey tank top and an A-line skirt. The top shows off her medium handful size boobs; the short skirt shows off her lovely legs. And she has low heels, like two inches. Sneakers are not acceptable dress here. And this is long before the era of "going commando" so she has underwear on, nice satiny tight white bikinis that mold her mound and her butt beautifully. She has a good attitude toward relationships and sex, and is very friendly with the brothers in the house.
The party is in full swing. The beer and booze are flowing freely and the music is loud. We leave the downstairs dance suite because it's just too loud, not possible to talk. Bands on campus always do fast rock early, then they play a higher proportion of slow dances as the night progresses. The plan: get drunk and tired early, then cling tight to your honey. A good strategy. It's getting late.
So we're upstairs dancing in the hall. There are a few other people up there also, dancing or just talking since you can hear each other up here. Several of my good friends are up here, too, and we all talk and we all dance. They happen to be dateless this weekend because of finals at the women's college where their honeys go. So they dance with my date. No problem.
Everyone is a little blitzed, more than just buzzed. There's beer and a deadly punch. She's doing the punch, which is sweet and disguises the alcohol content. And so she's friendly and they are friendly, and there is a lot of flirting going on. And there is a lot of touching going on. One dance with me she says, "Your pals are kind of grabby tonight. No girls and they're horny I guess."
"Is it bothering you?"
"No, not really. It's kind of nice to be held and hugged, and wanted. They haven't gone any further than my butt and my boobs yet, so no problem."
"Whoa, they're feeling your boobs?"
"Yeah, just now and then."
"Well, if it's okay with you, it's more than okay with me."
She looks a little puzzled. "You're not jealous? You *like* this? You *want* them to feel me up? I thought I was your girl. You want me to *let* them paw me?"
"You *are* my girl. I think you're fabulous. Well, so do they. They have good taste, just like me. They're just guys."
"If I don't resist, they'll just keep going and I'll just be their little sex toy for the night. Is that okay with you? How far should I go with these guys?"
"If it feels good, do it, baby." Shrug. "Whatever you want to do. You're a big girl."
Seeing her with them, seeing them with her, is exciting. I think she's slinky and sexy and wonderful. My friends do, too. I love that. It turns me on to know that these great guys want her too. They can't resist her. They're so hot for her that they will even risk hitting on her in front of me. The alcohol helps loosen us all up, but still. . . .
A while later, I see what she means. The guy she is dancing with has one hand on her ass while the other moves up to her right breast. And stays there, and kneads it, not just for a quick feel. Wow, I want some of that -- which presumably I will get later. This is pretty conspicuous. Anyone who is looking can see it. The balcony is not brightly lighted, but it's sure bright enough to see where people's hands are. Her arms are around his neck, and his hand are ravaging her bottom and her top.
After a couple minutes (minutes!), she gently removes his hand. And then before they break, he kisses her. Not just a peck but full-on serious kiss. Their mouths open and their eyes close and their tongues start fencing. And he puts both his hands on her boobs. She's still holding him tight, not pushing him away. They break and go get more drinks. More fuel for the fires.
When she comes back, another of my friends dances with her, first a fast one, then the inevitable slow one, and he, too, is all over her. Holding her tight to him, kneading her butt, pulling her skirt up almost to her panties. Then a hand on the breast. Then kissing, real French kissing like lovers do. And finally he goes even further: the hand on her ass pulls her skirt up until he can get his hand under the hem and onto her bare legs, and then back up to her delicious panty-covered ass.
She looks over at me with a puzzled expression. I can't tell what she's thinking. Is she thinking, Is this okay if they do this? Or, Is it okay if I let them do this? Or, Should I stop them? Or, Are they going to stop molesting me? Or, Are you going to stop them from molesting me? Or, Do you want them to do this? Or, Do you want *me* to do this? I don't know what she's thinking. I look back at her with lust in my heart, and in my eyes. She looks a little anxious, like, you know, Where this is going to go? These guys are already feeling me up now. A lot. They want to put their hands all over me. Soon they will want to go further. They will want to get *in* me. No, I think that's just my fantasy.
I'm ambivalent. I don't want her to get hurt, I don't want her to be forced to do anything she doesn't want to do. But watching that gorgeous body of hers be fondled and appreciated is really something. I don't think a little sex play will hurt anyone. And I think she sort of wants to go ahead with this. How far will she let it go? She's an adult. She can make her own decisions. How far will she let them go in playing with her, kissing her, feeling her? She already let them feel a lot of her, but mainly over her clothing. Will she let them under her clothes? Will she let them into her underwear? Will she let them feel her sex? Will she go all the way, let them inside her sex? She already let them feel wherever they wanted to. Does she want them to feel her more?
She pulls his hand out of her skirt, downs another drink, and comes over to me. We wander into one of the upstairs rooms, the so-called library, for a little privacy to talk. We pretend-dance, just holding each other, swaying, and whispering. "Your friends are really hitting on me. Did you see their hands all over me? On my boobs. And Bill went under my skirt. That was a little rude. Did you see that?"
"What do you want to do? You want to leave? It's not surprising that they want to hit on you. I'm just surprised that they'll do it openly, in front of me. You're a very sexy girl. It's incredibly exciting for me to see them lusting after you like that. And feeling up your fun parts. When he cupped your breast, my dick jumped.
"You obviously like it, too, the way you are kissing them and holding onto them while they put their hands on you. You're not pushing anyone away, not even the hand under your skirt. Did he go under your panties onto your bare ass?"
She looks at me a little shocked. "Yes, he did. . . . And I liked it, oooh. He reached down my crack and almost got his fingers into me. Oh, god, that's exciting. I am so excited, I am dripping wet. Being pawed by them and you. And you watching. And letting them sort of in public."
I think, We're a couple, but we're not in a serious relationship or anything. At least not yet. I mean, I like her, I like spending time with her, she's gorgeous and sexy and I love sleeping with her, but I'm not in love with her. I tell her, "You can do whatever you want. You can push away and stop. Or you can go ahead. If you like it. You know that *I* like it. It's incredibly erotic to see you playing with them. Don't do anything you don't want to. But if you want to go ahead, go ahead. You choose how far it goes. How far do you want them to go with pawing you? Over clothes? Under clothes? All the way?"