It was just another generic party. At the University there's generally one somewhere around the place every weekend. I drop in at one every so often as they can be quite fun. I also get the hell out of there if I find the party is shaping up to be hell on earth.
If there's a bit of drink at the party I don't mind as I liked a drop now and then. If there's a few drugs floating around I ignore it as none of my business. I don't partake myself but if others want to be stupid that's their problem. If there's a lot of alcohol or drugs them I'm out of there. That sort of thing leads to trouble so I'm careful not to get involved.
Of course every party has a number of boys trying to get lucky and an equal amount of girls determined that those boys won't get lucky. I won't deny that some of those boys and girls might decide to get lucky together but as long as they are mutually agreeable it's no-ones business but their own. Was I ever one of those girls who got lucky? That's a no comment question.
It was late spring and the weather was warm, warm enough that I could dress lightly for the party, basically undies and a sundress, one with shoestring straps. Fortunately I had a bust that filled out the top of the sundress very nicely. (I had a small zip at the side of the dress to assist in keeping the top up.)
I fronted up to the party and grabbed a beer. The way I looked at it the beer would last me quite a while and people wouldn't be offering me another drink when I obviously had one. I don't particularly like beer so I wasn't going to be guzzling it down fast and reaching for another. I could make one beer stretch for over an hour.
I wandered around the party, chatting to people I knew, getting introduced to some people I didn't, avoiding some people I knew (you would, too, if you knew them), ignoring some obvious non-entities (non-entities where I was concerned. Others might find them very interesting), and sizing up some of the unknowns who looked interesting.
"Who's he?" I asked Muriel, nodding to a guy who was wandering around. Everyone but me seemed to know who he was.
"That's Josh. He's a guard on the team. Massive brute, isn't he?"
That he was. Over six foot tall and seemed to be six feet wide. I'm not saying he was fat, just very solid, and a lot of him. I immediately marked him down as one guy who would probably get lucky tonight. Multiple times the way some of the girls were clustering around him. I wouldn't mind some one-on-one time with him myself but I wasn't going to compete with the twittering horde.
When I finally finished my beer I sought out the bathroom to eliminate it. Beer goes through me rather fast. I found the bathroom, relieved myself, and tidied up. I was turning to leave when to my surprise the door unlocked itself and Josh walked in, relocking the door behind him.
"Excuse me?" I demanded. "The door was locked for a reason."
"Yes, I know, and now it's been relocked for a different reason. I'm Josh. You're Merry."
"The hell I am. One beer doesn't make me merry. If you'll excuse me, I'm leaving."
"Your name is Merry," he said with a grin. "I asked."
"Well good for you. If you'll excuse me?" I repeated, trying to move past him.
"Don't be in such a hurry. I'm curious about a couple of thing."
I didn't ask what he was curious about. The way his eyes were wandering I suspected that I knew. He proved me to be correct by brushing my shoe-string straps off my shoulders.
"Damn it," he muttered when the straps flopped down my arms but my top stayed firmly in place. The only impact his actions had was to make my breasts tingle and I could feel my nipples responding. I gave him a nasty look.
"Just what was that supposed to prove?" I asked.
"That you've got more bust than dress, I think," he replied. "I thought the top might fall away leaving your breasts exposed for me to feast my eyes on them."
"Well as you see it didn't," I snapped.
"True, but what if I do this?"
With that comment he reached over and unzipped the little side zip. That alone might not have worked but he also gave the front of my dress a tweak and that was it. The top came down and my breasts were on full display. At my age I didn't really need a bra even though I was full breasted.
"You had no right to do that," I said in a rather pointed tone. (Did you notice I said he had no right, not don't do that. I actually got a bit of a kick out of him doing it.)
"I've got no right to do this either," he said, "but I'm doing it."
With that his hands came up and covered my breasts. My cheeks were hot with embarrassment but it wasn't embarrassment that was making my breasts swell and my nipples stand tall. That last was purely due to Josh fondling them.
"Will you stop that?" I demanded. I shouldn't have asked. I should have demanded but I didn't really want to.
"In a moment," he said in a soothing tone. "Ah, if you'll excuse me for a moment longer..."
His hands dropped away from my breasts, gliding down my sides and under the dress where it was bunched at my waist. They didn't stop there but kept right on going, sliding down and managing to collect my panties along the way.
Now I was really offended. (Well, perhaps I wasn't but I was certainly excited.) To show my displeasure I pushed him. Luck paid a hand in that. You can't pull a girl's panties right down without crouching (unless you've got gorilla arms). Pushing firmly against his shoulders and he fell backwards onto his butt. That was all the luck I had as he was still between me and the door, not that I was going to run out the door with my panties and dress tangled around my ankles.
Chuckling Charlie was back on his feet in no time and reaching for me. He backed me up against the bathroom cabinet, hands already wandering over my unwilling flesh. Unfortunately the way my flesh was reacting you'd never guess at the unwilling part. My nipples were standing proud and my pussy was hot and wet (and covered by an exploring hand).
I was all, "Stop that" and "leave me alone", struggling in a genteel manner. (Genteel as in slapping at his hands and trying to push him away as opposed to punching him on the nose, scratching his face, and dampening his ardour with a well-placed knee.)
He ignored my struggles and protests (if he even noticed them), picked me up, and sat me on the cabinet. I found myself hoping it was stronger than it looked. As soon as I was seated his hands were on my knees, pushing them well apart, with him moving between them to prevent me bringing them back together and safety. This was immediately followed by him undoing his trousers and dropping them.
Looking down I could see the full extent of his, ah, manliness, and it was proportionate to the rest of him.