Jean -- Hot and Crazy

Jean - Hot and Crazy

Chapter 2: A Desperate Plea

In this chapter, I finally deliver the "Hot and Crazy" promised in the title. My inspiration comes from the nightmares that still wake me shaken years after Jean and I were young. After waking in a sweat, I spend wakeless hours reliving the terror. I hope that putting our story on paper will help me break the cycle of fear and regret.

If you don't like dark stories, I suggest you quit reading now. Perhaps it will help those who ignore my warning if I confess it's all a fantasy. However, my mother taught me not to lie. In any case, much of the story is hard to believe, and it will be safer for your mental health if you read it as fiction. I'll let you be the judge.

This story takes place in the summer of 1972 before cell phones, computers, or the internet.

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I was nervous walking across the street to The Palms so Jean could apologize for some ancient wrong she had committed in high school. I had no idea what my sweet girlfriend had done to offend her high school boyfriend, but it must have been severe enough for the hurt to last since graduation three years ago.

Jean and I were accompanied by my best friend, Jacob, another Physics graduate student named David, and David's girlfriend, Tiffany. None of us were a match for the burly construction workers we had seen enter the sleazy bar earlier. David was a bit larger than Jacob and me, but he was just as soft as the two of us and a good twenty pounds lighter than the smallest of the muscular men we had seen in the pa. Tiffany, dressed in red hot pants and a halter top, wasn't good for anything more than providing a distraction with her massive breasts.

If being outmuscled wasn't bad enough, we were pretty intoxicated from all the wine we'd drunk at dinner. The whole idea of confronting an old boyfriend seemed insane to me, but I couldn't let Jean go on her own. Hopefully, she would make her apology, and we could head back to my apartment to recover from too much pasta and wine.

It was a hot, humid night as we all strolled across the street to The Palms for their last two hours before closing. Jean kept a tight grip on Jacob's arm to prevent him from leaving. We were lucky to find a booth in the back, far from the bar. The Palms is a dark, trashy College Town bar. There are stools along a long wooden bar, and booths fill the rest of the joint. A jukebox provides music for couples who crowd the small, raised dance floor. The most distinctive feature of The Palms is the ceiling tiles that have been decorated with graffiti. I do not know how anyone reached the ceiling, but that was how The Palms was when I first went there.

Jean asked, "What does everyone want to drink?"

I had hit my limit, and everyone in our group seemed pretty buzzed. Jean laughed when we said we had had enough.

"I know just the thing. I'll be right back."

Jean went up to the bar and waved at the bartender. She quickly got his attention as she leaned over to talk to him. The bartender took his time chatting with her and barely looked away from her barely concealed breasts to pour drinks. The way they were laughing suggested that they were acquainted. Jean was a townie and had probably gone to school with him.

Jean was a pretty picture walking towards us, her hips swaying while she balanced a tray on her shoulder. I remember her telling me about working as a waitress while attending the University of Wisconsin. Jacob inhaled sharply when my girlfriend leaned over between us to set down the tray holding five shots of Jose Cuervo, a bowl of lemons, a saltshaker, five mugs, and a pitcher of draft beer. Jean took her time unloading the tray and pouring beer. Jean unintentionally treated Jacob and me to a lovely view of her dangling breasts, thanks to how loosely I had tied the straps on her shoulders.

"OK, everyone. I learned that when you hit your limit, a shot of tequila will get you going again. Just moisten your hand so some salt will stick to it. Lick the salt. Down the shot in one swallow, and suck on a lemon slice. You can follow the shot with a gulp of beer. Let the party begin."

I cocked an eye at Jean and said, "Seriously?"

"Come on, Steve, it'll grow hair on your chest. Here, watch me."

Jean did the shot and chugged half a mug of beer. "Come on, guys. The dance floor is calling."

I figured, what the hell? I copied Jean and was surprised I managed to down the shot without a problem. The lemon cut the sting of the potent tequila. The beer flowed easily down my throat. I have no idea why I started to feel better. I was ready to dance. I was prepared to drink more, and I was definitely ready to party.

While David and Tiffany were drinking their shots, Jean leaned over to Jacob and whispered in his ear while he stared at the side of her dress. When he got up, he headed to the jukebox and made several selections. Jacob was a big fan of The Rolling Stones for their fantastic dance music. Jean dragged the rest of us to join Jacob on the raised dance floor. The five of us danced to a string of songs. I was glad we were dancing as a group because while most of the bar was dimly lit, overhead spotlights illuminated the small dance floor. Everyone in the bar could see my awkward moves.

I did my best to ignore the construction workers at a table by the dance floor. I hadn't seen the biggest one of them in the parking lot and wondered if he was the Randy in Randy Construction. All of them had their gaze fixed on Jean.

After Jacob's selections had ended, Jean picked some of her favorites. Her first choice was Carly Simon's 'You're So Vain.' I danced with my friends as Carly Simon shredded some guy in her song. I love the tune, but I winced at the thought that maybe Jean's choice was aimed at me.

You're so vain (you're so vain)

I bet you think this song is about you

Don't you, don't you?

Jean's next choice was Roberta Flack's romantic 'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.'

The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes

And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and the endless skies, my love

I thought Jean had picked it for me until she whispered, "I'm going to dance a few slow songs with Jacob. I'm just trying to be nice like you asked. I think you have a beer waiting at the table."

I had to admit Jacob was a better partner for the slow number than me. When Jean pressed her body into his arms, Jacob smiled for the second time tonight. I went back to the booth and poured myself a beer. My best friend gracefully guided Jean's lithe body around the dance floor.

I felt jealous of my friend's dancing skills. I am all right dancing to rock, but when you have to dance in step with a partner, I am in trouble. Jean loved dancing and had been working hard to improve my skills. I was probably just barely tolerable after a couple of months of her patient effort.

David and Tiffany were the only other couple dancing. Their bodies were locked together on the dance floor. Tiffany had her plump breasts pressed against David's chest, and his hands cupped her ass cheeks as they swayed to the romantic number.

David may have inspired Jacob. As Jacob and Jean danced to the Moody Blues 'Nights in White Satin,' I noticed Jacob's hand drifting lower on Jean's back. My girlfriend pressed in closer to Jacob as he clutched her curvaceous ass. I knew there was just one thin layer of green petals between his hand and the bare skin of her butt. I saw more of her athletic legs as Jacob caressed her ass and worked her dress higher and higher.

Jean's third selection was a cover of 'Rockin' Robin' by The Jackson 5. I know she has been dancing since she was young, but I had never seen her dance the Swing. I was even more surprised that Jacob kept right up with her. The Swing is a lively dance, and they were terrific. One distinguishing feature of Swing is the amount of twirling the woman does. Whenever Jacob spun Jean around, the leaves at the bottom of her dress flew up to reveal her long, shapely legs. I was entranced by the flashes of her bare ass cheeks and the tiny white triangle of wet cloth starting to work its way between the engorged lips of her pussy, barely concealed by a sparse covering of carefully manicured dark pubic hair.

I wasn't the only person who noticed. Several tables full of drunken townies stood and surrounded the dance floor while shouting encouragement. I got up from our table and tried to work my way to the front of the mob of sweaty, sunburnt men surrounding the raised dance floor. I was rewarded with a shove on my first attempt and a punch in the ribs the second time I tried to work through the tight crowd. Fortunately, I was taller than some of the burly men and found a spot where I could watch.

I was in time to see Jean perform a dip with her back across Jacob's thigh and one leg pointing straight to the ceiling. Jacob held her in the sexy position longer than the music called for. Maybe they were responding to their audience screaming obscene catcalls as they stared at my girlfriend's barely concealed pussy only a few feet away from their leering eyes.

I was surprised when a second Swing number followed the first. The longer Jean danced, the more her panties disappeared between her pussy lips and the louder the townies yelled. By the middle of the second number, the front of her panties had all but disappeared inside her slit. The only bits of Jean's sex still covered were the opening to her vagina and the hard nub that made a small tent in the top of the translucent panties. Jacob seemed to be deliberately aiming Jean's crotch at different parts of the aroused mob while he held her in longer and longer dips.

Jacob concluded the second dance by flipping Jean over his back and leaving Jean in a split at the edge of the raised dance floor. He left her panting on the floor with her legs spread while he selected another song on the jukebox. My eyes bugged out when I saw that Jean's panties were wedged so deep in her pussy that her hard nub was protruding above the top of the skimpy G-string. Her little pink button was surrounded by a forest of sweaty black pubic hair that was plastered to her skin and provided little in the way of concealment. I think her sweet nub was every bit as hard as my cock.

The third dance was similar until Jacob flipped Jean upside down with her back to his chest near the end. My girlfriend wrapped her bare legs around his neck for support while her partner spun her around. I loved how the petals of her dress fluttered around her abdomen, leaving her pussy and long pale legs flashing in the spotlight for a couple of revolutions before the song ended. When Jean's panting partner stopped, the overhead light was aimed straight at my girlfriend's glistening pussy. Jacob was in a trance with his face buried between her parted thighs, only inches from her engorged pussy and exposed nub. By the smile on his face, I could see he was intoxicated by the heady scent of her overheated sex.

God, I wanted to fuck Jean right now, but judging by the catcalls, so did every other guy around the dance floor. I knew my girlfriend was an exhibitionist, but this was way over the top. Once again, I tried to make my way through the rowdy crowd, but someone rewarded my efforts with a sharp punch to my stomach, leaving me gasping for air as the applause continued.

I recovered in time to watch Jean dismount with a flip that left her on her hands and knees before the guy I thought might be Randy. He was the roughest-looking man seated around the stage. Judging by the size of his gut, he'd had a few too many beers since his high school football days. Even so, his tight work shirt strained to conceal his muscular arms and barrel chest.

I couldn't hear what Jean said, but her clasped hands and pleading expression told me she was making her desperate apology. The crowd sat down and quieted as everyone strained to listen to her pleas. I remembered Jean warning me not to interfere, but my girlfriend was in a vulnerable position. Some of the green petals that should have been covering her ass cheeks had stuck to her sweaty back when she flipped onto her knees. My girlfriend's gorgeous ass was exposed to everyone around the dance floor. The top of her dress fell away from her chest, exposing her plump, dangling breasts and hard nipples to the excited crowd.

Jean repeated her plea in a quivering voice, loud enough for me to hear. "Randy, please, you have to forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, there must be another way to atone for my mistake."

"Bitch, you ruined my life. You made me a laughingstock. Now, it's time to pay the piper. Come to a private party at my place after the bar closes, or you'll be sorry. You can bring your dumb ass friends if you want."

"Please, Randy, give me a chance to explain. Dance with me for old time's sake, and let me tell you my side of the story.

"OK, I'll dance with you, but you're wasting your breath if you expect me to forgive you without paying the price."

I shouted a protest, but Jean looked at me and shook her head as Randy joined her on the dance floor. I forced myself to watch my girlfriend wrap her arms around the muscular neck of her sunburned partner. Randy's friends cheered when Randy pulled her close with his hands on her curvy butt. As they began a slow waltz, I saw him go straight for the gap between the panels covering her back and slip his right hand under the waistband of her dress. I knew the bastard's hand was cupping Jean's bare ass. As they danced, Jean whispered in his ear as she continued her plea. Randy laughed at her desperation as she continued to humiliate herself.

I knew the moment he plunged one or more of his thick fingers into Jean's pussy because she rose on her toes and let out a squeal everyone in the bar could hear. I could see the shock on her face. My girlfriend froze for a few beats before lowering her trembling body onto his probing fingers. Everyone in the bar could see the leaves of her dress rustling as he finger-fucked her to the edge of an orgasm. I wanted to scream as I watched her public humiliation. Unfortunately for Jean, the song ended too soon. Randy pulled his hand out of her dress and laughed as he licked his wet fingers.

Jean clutched at his sweaty work shirt and wailed. "Randy, please take pity on me. I can't do that."

The asshole pushed her away and sat down with his leering friends. Jean dropped to her hands and knees and crawled to the man who continued to reject her pathetic entreaties. When she got close enough, the bastard grabbed her by the base of her ponytail and pulled her tearful eyes up to gaze at his cold eyes.

"Fucking cunt, I'm not interested in your apologies and pleas for mercy. There's only one way you can make amends for your filthy slander. Come to my place tonight. Do you understand, bitch?"

While the bastard delivered his ultimatum, he untied the straps of her dress, and the top fell away from her chest. Even with her breasts exposed, Jean continued her pleas, which were drowned out by the crowd's excited shouts. Randy laughed at her for a moment before slapping her face twice with sharp, stinging blows. He released her ponytail and sat back with a sneer.

"Cunt, I'm tired of your shit. You'd better come to my place tonight and accept the punishment I promised in your yearbook."

Jean had tears streaming down her face as she knelt on her haunches. I could see her lips moving as she begged for forgiveness once again. I couldn't hear her over the roaring crowd, aroused by the sight of her plump breasts.

The asshole put his muddy work boot on her shoulder and shoved her away with such force that she landed on her back and cracked her head on the wooden dance floor. I pushed into the crowd as they surged forward like a pack of wolves, but I couldn't find my way through the mob crowding around the stage again. She lay there stunned and unaware she was displaying the most intimate parts of her sweaty body to the crazed crowd. I heard the lusting men surrounding the dance floor growl like a pack of hungry predators at the sight of her engorged pussy and bare breasts that were still jiggling from her slamming into the floor.

While they were dancing, Randy had pushed the front of her panties to one side when he forcefully finger fucked her to the edge of an orgasm. The rapacious mob roared at the sight of the tender pink flesh inside of her wide-open vagina. Her pussy was leaking a stream of nectar down her bare ass cheeks. As if to complete her degradation, Jean's hard pink nub protruded from its sheath, begging for more stimulation.

Jean was moaning as she slowly rocked her head from side to side as if trying to awaken from a nightmare. My girlfriend's plump, sweaty breasts rolled around on her chest for everyone to see while she unconsciously opened and closed her legs. Her tear-filled eyes were half-closed, and her expression was that of a despairing woman.

I tried making my way through the crowd again. Any of the burly men around the dance floor could have easily swatted me away, but they let me through this time. I helped Jean to her feet and held her momentarily while Jacob fumbled to fix the ties on her dress. He did a worse job than I had when I tied the dress before we left for dinner. The sagging petals left even more of my girlfriend's gorgeous breasts exposed.

Randy yelled his final ultimatum. "You'd better be at my place later. The longer you put off your punishment, the worse it will be."

I watched Jean nod, but I was clueless about what my sweet girlfriend had done to anger the man. I had a dozen questions for her, but she appeared too stunned to speak as Jacob and I helped her stagger back to our table. Her eyes were glazed, and her body was still shaking from the rough finger fucking Randy had given her. When she sat down, she broke into body-wracking sobs. I put my arm around her and let her cry on my shoulder while I thought murderous thoughts about her old boyfriend. When she started hiccuping, I poured her a beer, which she chugged down.

I gave Jean a moment to recover before I exploded. "Jean, what the fuck! You were practically begging to be raped. In case you didn't notice, nearly every guy watching your exhibition is much bigger than me. There is no way that I could protect you. What the fuck were you thinking?"

Jean looked like I had slapped her. "You wouldn't understand."

"Jean, give me a chance. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I deserve an explanation."

My girlfriend hung her head. "I was trying to make a peace offering to my high school boyfriend, Randy. I hoped he might let me off easy if I humiliated myself before him and his friends."

"Why do you owe Randy anything?"

Jean looked around with a wild expression, hoping someone would rescue her from answering my question.

Finally, she swallowed hard and said, "I've known Randy since kindergarten. He's always been a popular jock. He was the star running back in high school and my Senior Prom date. Like many senior girls, I pledged to lose my virginity on Prom night. I should have told Randy because he brought a couple of pints of whiskey to the dance and drank most of them himself. He was reluctant when I said I wanted sex, so I had to seduce him. Neither of us knew what we were doing, and it was a fiasco. I did everything I could to get him hard. After sucking his limp cock for half an hour, I thought he was finally hard enough to do it. He poked at my virgin hole several times before spurting cum all over my stomach.

"Unfortunately, I made the mistake of telling my best friend why I hadn't lost my virginity, and within a couple of days, everyone in school knew about Randy's failure. A week later, the school yearbooks came out, and we all passed them around during class so friends could write personal messages and wishes for the future. Everything was fine until after the last class I shared with Randy when I saw that he had written a horrible message under my picture. It read, 'Girl most deserving to be gang raped.' He and eight friends signed it, including five guys sitting with him tonight. The next day, Randy asked for my yearbook. He said more of his friends wanted to sign my picture. Thankfully, I'd left it at home.