But then I noticed that Crissy's outfit wasn't quite as out there. While the others were pretty much covered from neck to at least mid-calf with black clothing of one kind or another, Crissy was wearing a flowing black miniskirt raggedly cut to a couple inches above her knees. She matched that with a lacey half-sleeve top that clung tightly to her skinny torso like a second (black) skin and was just short enough to let her single bellybutton piercing glitter in the streetlights. She was wearing black boots like her friends, but they were much more stylish and sexy than the others'. And her hair was a (relatively) conservative shade of dark purple, cut boyishly short as always to show off a reasonable number of extra piercings up and around her ears. One look at the confidently assertive way she carried herself among her grubby posse and I could tell Crissy was in charge. It was like she was winning a game that the others didn't even know they were playing. I was in lust, again. I didn't know quite how to approach them, so when they ambled up to the entrance to the Cavern, I just walked over and called to Crissy. While the others looked at me like I was somebody's mom trying to break up their fun, Crissy gave me a big grin, threw her arms around me, and locked her lips to mine. I wasn't expecting that, but I reflexively opened my mouth to let her probing tongue in. We played tonsil-hockey on the crowded sidewalk for what seemed like forever. Finally, we disconnected and I almost fell backwards with lightheadedness, my cheeks flushed red, my heart pounding in my chest. She laughed and grabbed my hand and I guess she paid my cover charge because next thing I knew, we were all sitting at a teeny round table in the loud, black-lit interior of the Cavern. Crissy's friends immediately bought drinks and started puffing on odd-smelling cigarettes. Crissy brought me a glass, too, but didn't introduce me to anyone. I sat nursing the identifiable drink for a few minutes feeling ignored and uncomfortable as they chatted about common friends and other stuff I couldn't decipher. I didn't fit in with those weirdoes at all. Just when I was about to get up and tell Crissy I'd see her another time, she grabbed my hand and got everyone's attention. "Forgot to mention," she almost shouted to be heard over the music, "this is Sherry. She's my new cuntlicker!" My face must have turned beet red, but the others just nodded in my direction and went back to their conversation, acting as if they'd been told I was Crissy's new neighbor or something.
Despite their lack of response, Crissy grinned wickedly at me, waiting for my reaction, daring me to contradict her. I didn't know what to do, so I just stuck out my tongue, trying to play it off. "Yeah, that's her cuntlicker right there!" she countered. I smiled weakly and gulped down my drink, kinda shocked and offended but with a slow warm tingling building between my thighs.
Crissy said a couple more lewd things about me to her mostly indifferent friends, apparently trying to get a rise. For my part, I tried not to react too much, but I was quietly getting hornier by the minute. As the odd scene played out, tho, her comments seemed to be breaking through her friends' stupor. Her observation that I was "hot already, but look even better with pussy juice all over (my) face" got a few pairs of eyes to carefully check me out. Her revelation that I had "really fucking loved being frigged in front of a bunch of church youth groups" actually got a laugh and the attention of the whole table.
I don't understand it, but her humiliating comments got me so damn hot. Gawd, did I want them to come true right then. I wanted her to finger-fuck me right in front of everyone, I wanted my face to be dripping wet with any and all love juices right there in that dingy club se free new years lolita pthc bbs
.
Crissy knew it, too. She knew exactly which buttons to press, that manipulative bitch. And when she leaned in closer and we started making out, I didn't care who was watching, I didn't care that she had her hands all over my tits, first through my blouse and then inside of it. I gasped when we came up for air and I noticed that my buttons were mostly undone and my slightly-askew white bra was glowing brightly in the blacklights, but I didn't cover up. I would have let my tongue do its job on her right then and there if she would have asked me to.
But she didn't. Crissy suddenly told her friends that she'd see them later ("I've got some fucking to do!") and led me by the hand out the door and into the sidewalk as I frantically tried to button my blouse.
"We've gotta sexy up your outfit," she declared, and guided me into a club sex 6 to 12 year old child porn
wear boutique a few storefronts down the block.
The place was stocked with all kinds of outfits; from gothy gear to slinky club preteenmodelsearchs
dresses to stuff that is definitely not legal to wear in public. Crissy headed right for the naughty section (as I knew she would) and flew through the racks like a whirling dervish, quickly browsing through lots of barely-there items, rejecting each one before I could do so myself. Then she found a simple black miniskirt and held it up in triumph. It was a lot like her skirt except that it had several thin lace panels running up the back, front, and side of the thighs. It also looked at least a couple sizes too small teen funs bbs
for me.
"This is perfect!" she declared. I said it was small preteen fucking pic
but she ignored me, holding it up against my waist and grinning som more. The skirt didn't even reach down to the bottom of jean pockets.
box of some kind of paint. She wouldn't say what it was for, just grinned like a Cheshire cat. I didn't ask any questions, and in another minute, I left the store with a small russian preteen angels
shopping bag, a lighter pocket, and my dignity still mostly intact. For the moment, anyway... Crissy was ready to hit more club underage bbs free
s, but I said I wanted to put the new skirt in the car so I wouldn't have to carry the bag around. I could tell she wasn't happy about that but she trudged along to the parking lot. When she realized I was really going to dump the skirt, tho, she started ranting that I needed to loosen up, that I was being a "fuckin' baby" and that maybe I should just go home. Now if anybody else talked to me like that, I'd tell them to shut up and fuck off or both. But like I said, she knows how to push my buttons. Instead of driving home and forgetting about this whole crazy evening, I found myself apologizing for not putting on the skirt and offered to take off my bra instead. I don't know why; I can't explain it. Call it thinking with my clit if you want. But hat's what I did. And not only did I leave my bra in the car, I accepted Crissy's offer to fold my teeny ew skirt into her purse for safekeeping "just in case" I wanted it later. I even let her unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt, revealing a good bit of unfettered cleavage. I know, I know; what the fuck was I thinking? I wish I could explain it... Anyway, Crissy suggested we go to "Civilixation", a nearby club sum 41 mp3
that was "more my style." The place is a converted movie theater with the old-fashion movie marquee and everything. There was a long line of your typical "beautiful people" waiting out front, but the place is so big that the line moved fast. We were at the front when I realized that Crissy wasn't old enough to get in. But either she's got a good fake ID or the beefy guy at the door liked our saucy looks because he shot us a flirty smile and waved us in. Crissy was right; Civilixation is the kind of club s f d
I'm used to. Top-40 and pop/dance remixes on the thumping sound system with lighting shifting to the beat, neon beer signs on the walls, and the crowd a mix of college-aged and older 20-somethings. It was the sort of place I used to visit with Kyle.