Looking at her, you could tell she had been on her trip for a while. At one point she obviously slipped and fell in the mud, but simply rolled over and got up again, then kept dancing with the other people to the music. Deliciously rounded, you might call her, with wide hips and soft thighs, and a nice ass covered by muddy jeans, soft, pale breasts peeking over the low neckline of a once-burgundy shirt, and long brown hair held back with a beaded headband. Once the acid started wearing off, though, it came to her attention that she was covered in dried mud.
She spent about an hour asking people where she could get clean, and no one really knew where, or could be bothered to show her where a shower was. Eventually, a musician, a bassist from one of the bands, spoke up.
"You can borrow the musician's shower behind the stage. And you can dry off and get dressed in my trailer." He was handsome, with mocha-colored skin and a small afro held back by a scarf. He was holding a beer, but didn't seem drunk at all.
"Thanks, man!" She grabbed her small suitcase from her tent and followed him to the shower. She assumed he left, and stripped down, throwing her clothes onto the wooden crate that formed of the bottom of the shower so they would be rinsed clean of mud while she showered. The Bassist watched her as she stepped into the shower and turned it on, dancing around for a few seconds until she got used to the temperature
