Chapter 3 - Dances in the Dark

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Melissa found her mom in the kitchen putting away groceries. Margaret Randall was a buxom redhead of medium height with large, heavy-lidded eyes that Melissa thought gave her a sultry look. The last three years had been difficult for her mother, and they showed in the fine lines beginning to appear in her forehead, but besides those, she still looked younger than her age. She was only thirty-two, having married right out of high school and given birth to Keith shortly thereafter. Melissa thought she had a great figure, though her mother fretted constantly about her weight. Margaret had a body that in a former day would have been called `voluptuous', with large breasts and full hips. The look wasn't fashionable now in this day of starving-waif supermodels, but Melissa had already resigned herself to sharing her mother's body type and figured she'd be delighted if she looked as good at her mother's age.

"Hi, Mom," Melissa said pleasantly. "Can I help you put stuff away?"

Her mother looked up with a mildly astonished expression and brushed a lock of her long, thick red hair from her forehead. "Well, hi, pumpkin. That would be nice. Why don't you put away all the stuff that needs to go in the fridge?"

Ordinarily, Melissa would have bristled at her mother's use of the childish endearment, but she remembered that she was trying to be nice. And besides, she didn't feel quite so sensitive about being treated like a kid while she still had a boy's semen coating her ass crack and the taste of it still on her lips. She smiled and started pulling refrigerator items out of the plastic shopping sacks.

"How was your day, Mom?" Melissa inquired politely after a moment.

"Oh, not bad," sighed her mother. "Business is growing fast, so there never seems to be a spare moment. Fred wants me to go to the sales conference in Florida week after next, but I don't see how I can."

"Oh, Mom!" Melissa exclaimed, "That would be tres cool. Why wouldn't you go?"

"Oh," her mother temporized, "I'm worried about you kids. I don't know who I could get to watch you, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to tell him I can't."

"But Mom," Melissa asked with genuine concern in her voice, "How can you just tell him no? Isn't this, like, a big opportunity for you?"

"Well," sighed her mother, "When you have kids, you have to make sacrifices all the time."

"I know you do," said her pre-teen daughter with genuine feeling, "And you've already had to make way too many."

Her mother looked at her with frankly gratified amazement. "Well, thank you for that, sweetie. It's nice to know that it gets recognized once in a while."

Melissa gulped, remembering what her friend Stephanie had told her about giving her mom a break sometimes. "Mom, I know I haven't exactly been easy to live with lately..."

Her mother snorted, but Melissa pressed on. "And I just want to say I'm sorry. You've been having to carry everything on your shoulders since Dad left, and I know I've just been making things worse. I'm going to try to do better from now on."

Her mother gave her a penetrating glance. "Well, I'd really like to believe that you mean that. However, I can't help but feel like you just want something. That's the only time you're ever nice to me."

The girl winced. "Has it been that bad?"

"Bad enough."

"Well, I'm not going to lie to you, Mom," Melissa went on, telling herself that now was not the time for excuses, "There is something I want. But I meant what I said. Even Stephanie commented about how bad I'd been treating you and told me I ought to try being nicer. So, whether your answer is yes or no, I'm still going to try to be nicer."

"Well, thank God you'll at least listen to Stephanie if you won't listen to me," her mother muttered. "I knew I liked that girl for a reason."

"I realized after she said it that that I'd really just been pissed off at Dad, but I'd been taking it out on you `cause I had to fight with somebody. I really am sorry, Mom." Melissa was surprised to find tears welling up in her eyes.

Her mother looked at her with softer eyes, considerably mollified. "Pumpkin, believe me, I can understand that. That asshole..." (In the last two years since her dad had left, Melissa had never heard her mother refer to him as anything but `asshole'), "that asshole would make anyone do stupid and vicious things." Her mother's eyes flashed with anger. "He would never, never understand how much hurt he caused."

Now her mother's voice softened, "So yes, I can understand completely. And I guess, truth be told, I haven't always been as patient with you as I could be."

"Don't say that, Mom! I'm the one who's been hard to live with, not you."

Her mother chuckled, "Well, I'm not going to start a fight with you over that! How `bout if we just leave off trying to figure out whose fault anything is and both start working on getting better?"

"Okay, Mom," Melissa smiled her warmest smile. Her mother came around the counter and gave her a tight hug, which felt surprisingly good to Melissa, so she returned the embrace with equal fervor.

As they held each other, Margaret felt her daughter's nipples brush her own. To her amazement, it produced a sensation almost as if an electric shock had suddenly coursed through her body. She stood frozen, suddenly acutely conscious of the feel of Melissa's soft, nubile body through the thin satin of her robe. For a moment, she was completely baffled as to what should prompt such a reaction.

Then it all came back to her in a flood.

Celeste. Her daughter's body reminded her of the way Celeste's had all those years ago, though Celeste's body was more similar in size and shape to her daughter's friend Stephanie. The touch of her own child's nipples had awakened memories she'd thought she'd buried completely.

Margaret felt a lump grow in her throat as images from the past washed over her. Had she really believed she could simply forget about Celeste Montoya? Celeste, her dearest friend from school, sharing a friendship that bloomed into something so much more. Celeste with her long dark hair falling down over her small pale breasts as she raised herself from between Margaret's young thighs to regard her with unfathomable dark eyes. Celeste kissing her with her soft full lips, promising that they'd always be together. The ugly confrontation with Celeste's mother, threatening to expose her to the world if Margaret ever saw her daughter again. The tearful, stolen goodbye when, shortly after, Celeste had sneaked away one last time to tell her that she was going to "go straight from now on, because it's just easier than trying to fight my entire family".

True to her word, Celeste never even looked at her again when they would pass in the hallway for three agonizing months as the school year dragged to a terrible end. Margaret was torn between heartbreak and relief when Celeste and her family moved away that summer, presumably to get away from Margaret's `bad influence'. And then the whispers and rumors that started the following year when Margaret wouldn't date boys. How finally in desperation she agreed to date Joe, the most persistent of those boys who seemed unable to keep their eyes off her tits.

Joe proved to be equally persistent about fucking her. She resisted for a time, but she was still so heartbroken and so lonely, and Joe knew all the buttons to push, trying to persuade her that everyone thought she was `queer', and that he was her only hope to get the whispering to stop. Finally, she let him have his way, not because she really wanted to, but because she just didn't care enough anymore to protest. For the next year, they went steady, and the whispering really did stop. Joe wasn't even really a bad guy, she just didn't love him. They fucked whenever he wanted to. Even her own mother turned a blind eye to their activities – she had to have known what was going on – but she was probably so relieved at the way she'd `straightened out' that she just chose to ignore the noises from Margaret's bedroom while she and Joe were `studying'.

Since Margaret didn't really care enough about life to keep Joe out of her pants, she certainly didn't care about birth control, so it was only a matter of time before she got pregnant. Strangely, the idea of a new life growing in her jolted her out of her former indifference, and she found new resolve to insist that not only was she going to keep the baby, but that Joe was going to marry her, too. So it was that she graduated from high school three months pregnant, and married Joe shortly thereafter.

All those thoughts tumbled through her mind as she stood there holding her daughter. With a start, she broke from her reverie to realize that she had been softly caressing the curve of her own girl's hips and ass without even realizing it. Even worse, she became aware that she had been surreptitiously grinding her cunt into Melissa's thigh. She pulled her head back to gaze into her daughter's face in an attempt to see if her unconscious incestuous fondling had been noticed.

Melissa, too, had felt the jolt of lascivious electricity when her nipples brushed her mother's through the thin satin material of her robe, and immediately felt her juices in her already-aroused pussy begin to flow anew. She didn't know what to make of her feelings at all. She was so surprised by the sensation that she scarcely noticed her mother's soft touch on her body, not even registering when her mother cupped her ass cheeks tenderly and pulled her even closer to her own body.

But when her mother drew back to look at her, Melissa was astounded to see the look in her mother's eyes. For she recognized that look. It was the same look she'd seen in her own eyes earlier that afternoon in the bathroom after she'd come to the realization while frigging herself silly that she wanted her own brother to fuck her. It was the look of raw, hot lust.

What she didn't know was that her mother was now seeing that same look again reflected back at her in Melissa's own eyes. For one terrifying, wonderful moment, they looked at each other, each seeing the other not as mother and daughter, but as a grown woman at the peak of her sexual prime and a young girl in the first full flood of awakened eroticism. And they wanted each other.

Both Melissa and Margaret were profoundly shaken and, after an interminable moment, broke apart from their improper embrace and quickly moved to opposite sides of the kitchen counter again.

"So how was your day, pumpkin? Did anything happen in school today?" her mother asked with a nonchalance she didn't feel as she began to sort out the bags of fruit on the counter, hoping that her trembling knees and hands wouldn't show.

"Oh, my God! I completely forgot – we had a bomb threat in the afternoon!" blurted Melissa, glad to have any topic at all to break the erotic spell her mother's embrace had put her under.

"What?!!!" cried her mother.

"Don't worry, Mom," Melissa said hastily, "It was just a false alarm. But it was late enough in the day, they just let everyone come home afterwards instead of making us go back to class." That wasn't strictly the truth, since it was actually more than a couple of hours before the end of the day, but Melissa wasn't at all keen on either making her mother worry more or on having to account for her activities in the intervening hours.

"I swear," growled her mother, "You'd think a place like this would be safe from all that. Bomb threats in junior high!" She shook her head in disgust.

"It's really no big deal, Mom," Melissa assured her mother, "It happens a lot – well, not a lot, I guess, but, you know, some jerk kid decides he really doesn't want to take that math quiz, and, well..."

"In my day, rotten kids contented themselves with pulling fire alarms."

"I guess they figure a bomb threat gets them out of more school," Melissa shrugged.

"So what did you do? Did you go over to Stephanie's?" asked her mother, still clearly dubious.

"I would have if I couldn't get in, but Keith was already home." Which was true enough. No need to describe what her brother was doing with his time.

"Really? Didn't he have cross-country practice today?"

"To tell you the truth, Mom, I didn't ask him. I was just was glad to be able to get in and take a shower. But you know," she continued, figuring that since her mother seemed to be in a receptive mood, she may as well ask, "If I had my own key, then I wouldn't have to be stuck outside when things like that happen. I'm not a kid anymore, you know."

"I know," grimaced her mother, biting her lip to keep from letting on just how much she had suddenly realized that her girl had grown. "I know you're not. But you also haven't been all that responsible up to now either."

Melissa stiffened, and was about to launch into an angry tirade when she caught herself, and instead said with as much grace as she could, if a bit tautly, "Well, I don't think I would lose a house key, if that's what you mean. But what do I have to do so you'd give me one?"

"Well," said her mother, seriously, "For starters, just do the regular chores you're supposed to without me having to ask you three times plus throw a fit before you do them. And that includes cleaning your room every Saturday."

"So if I clean my room tomorrow, you'll give me my own key?" pressed her daughter.

"Nice try," her mother responded with a tight smile. "How about if you do all your chores, including your room, without any `reminding' from me for a month, and I'll figure you're grown up enough to be responsible for your own key?"

Melissa sighed, but agreed. She could do that – she hoped.

"So was that the thing you wanted to ask me for?" reminded her mother.

"Uh, actually...," she gulped, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead, "Actually, I was wanting to know if...Well, you see, there's a dance at the school tonight, and..."

"And you want to go?" cried her mother excitedly.

"Y-yeah. If it's okay with you, that is," she added quickly.

"Oh, sweetheart!" exclaimed Margaret, almost rushing around the counter to hug her daughter again but deciding suddenly that perhaps hugging wasn't a good idea after the last experience. "I think it's wonderful that you want to go! Why didn't you say anything before this?"

"Well, I really didn't think I wanted to go, so I didn't want to even bring it up..."

"Thinking I'd be a bitch about it, huh?" asked her mother, cocking an eyebrow at her pointedly.

Melissa just shrugged in embarrassment before she noticed the twinkle in her mother's eye and they both burst out laughing.

"Okay, I guess I asked for that," Margaret chuckled when they'd caught their breath. "So what changed your mind?"

"Stephanie really wants to go, and she begged me," said Melissa.

"Well, I think it's fine," smiled her mother, "But," she went on with an upraised finger before her daughter could get too excited, "I want to know all the things a mother wants to know about such things. Where is it? When does it start? When is it over? Who's going to be there? What are you supposed to wear?"

"It's at the school, in the multi-purpose room," Melissa answered, hardly believing her luck at how easy it had been to get her mother's permission. "It starts at 7:30 and ends at 10:00. It's the first one seventh graders can go to. It's not supposed to be fancy, just like nice school clothes. Can I call Steph and tell her I can go?" she blurted in a rush.

"Oh!" sighed her mother, "Your first real dance! Yes, you can call Stephanie. Be sure to ask her if she needs a ride..." she called out to her daughter's rapidly disappearing backside. "And I'd better get some dinner going if you're going to get there in time," she added to herself. Her face held a smile that stayed until she remembered the unaccountable erotic yearnings her young daughter had resurrected within her.

Melissa burst back into the room after only a few moments. "Mom? Stephanie wants to know if I could spend the night with her. I asked her about a ride, but she said that her dad had to take Brad in anyway, and our place is on the way, so he'd be glad to pick me up here and then take us all back to her place afterwards. Can I?"

Margaret laughed at her daughter's earnest pleading and assured her it would be all right as long as Stephanie's father didn't mind. In a way, she was almost relieved. She needed some time to think about what had just happened and what, if anything, she should do about it.

Melissa bounded away, returning a few minutes later.

"Thanks, Mom," she said with genuine gratitude.

"You're very welcome," smiled her mother. "It's not every day my little girl has grown up enough for her first dance. Say," she inquired after a moment as she began to chop mushrooms for her spaghetti sauce, "Where's Keith? You said he came home early, and I haven't seen any sign of him."

"I think he's just getting out of the shower. He seemed awfully anxious to get in there after I was done." Melissa gulped, hoping she hadn't said anything that would arouse her mother's suspicions.

To her amazement, her mother said matter-of-factly, "He's probably in there whacking off."

"What???!!" Melissa cried, less shocked at the idea since she had a pretty good notion that it was perfectly true than at her mother's boldness in speaking of it.

"Don't look so surprised," chided her mother. "It's something that all boys that age do. You remember reading about masturbation in that book I got you last year?"

"Yeah, of course," admitted her daughter. "And all boys do it? A lot?"

"Pretty much all," nodded Margaret. "And, yes, at that age, they tend to do it a lot."

"Just boys?" asked Melissa archly.

Her mother stopped chopping and gave her an intent look. "Why, no, girls often do it, too. Am I to understand that you've figured that out, er, personally?"

Melissa blushed furiously, nervous about the turn the conversation had taken, but bravely stood her ground. "Well, yeah, kinda'. I mean, you know, I figured out that it felt really good when I rubbed myself the right way, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean. And don't worry," her mother answered with a soft smile, "It's perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's just what I told Stephanie!" blurted Melissa. "I'm glad you got me that book last year, `cause I could tell her that. Can you believe it? She thought she was the only one who did it and was terrified that she was some kind of freak."

Her mother gave a low chuckle. "Yeah, everyone always seems to think that they're the first person to ever figure it out, and that no one – especially their parents – has any clue. I sure thought that when I was your age. Well, maybe a little older," she hastened to add. "You're a bit on the young side for starting all that, but then, you've been blooming early."

She fell silent for a moment, remembering how Celeste had been the one to show her how wonderful it felt to touch her clit. That memory caused her to wonder just how much her own daughter had shared already with her friend Stephanie, and what their relationship really was. Well, she vowed fiercely to herself, she wasn't going to interfere – in fact, she'd do everything in her power to protect her daughter if that was the direction she chose.

Her daughter broke into her reverie, asking, "So, I guess that means that you, you know, do it too?"

"Yes, dear," Margaret admitted with a slight smile, "I do it too. Ever since the asshole left – and for several years before that, truth be told, not that you asked – that's been the entire extent of my sex life."

"Oh, Mom," her daughter said sympathetically, "That's so sad. But I'm glad that you haven't just withered up or anything..." Her mother raised her eyebrows, so she quickly went on. "I mean, it's good that you kept on pleasing yourself despite all...This is so weird, having this conversation with my mother! But I like it, you know?"

Her mother smiled, genuinely pleased at her daughter's admission.

"Anyway," Melissa continued, "Don't you ever wish you had someone again? It's been long enough, don't you think?"

"Too long," said her mother with some feeling, "But I haven't been real crazy about just ending up with someone like the asshole again. It's not easy finding someone when you're trying to keep a family going by yourself." She pulled the spaghetti noodles off the stove and maneuvered the steaming kettle over to the sink to drain them. "Would you mind telling your brother that dinner's about ready?"

Melissa nodded and turned to head upstairs.

"And be discreet!" her mother called after her, causing Melissa to turn and grin back knowingly before she scampered down the hall to the stairs.

 

Melissa rounded the top of the stairs and saw that the bathroom door was now open, but Keith's door was shut. She knocked softly at his door, calling his name.

"Yeah? C'mon in," invited her brother.

She opened the door and found him sitting at his computer, still wrapped in a towel. "Mom said to tell you dinner's ready."

Keith stretched and stood, shutting off his computer. "'Kay. I'll be down in a minute after I dress."

"Why dress?" teased the girl, "You look fine to me. Though maybe if you lost the towel, you'd look even finer..." She edged close to her brother meaningfully.

Keith turned a gratifying shade of pink, growling, "Just get out of here, and shut the door." He started to turn away, then stopped and called back, "Wait!"

Melissa, who hadn't moved, waited, raising her eyebrows inquiringly. Keith came close and asked in a low voice, "You didn't say anything to Mom about, you know, us and this afternoon, did you?"

"Don't be silly," scoffed his sister, "I just told her you were home early enough to let me in, but I didn't know why." When Keith sighed with relief, she couldn't resist adding, "Mom said you were probably up here whacking off."

Her brother purpled, and sputtered, "What? Jeez! Isn't there any privacy around here at all?"

"Not as much as you thought, obviously," she needled, then relented. "Relax, big brother," she said soothingly, caressing his arm. "Mom's cool with it. In fact, she does it too."

Keith looked stunned, "Really?!! Mom? How do you know?"

"She told me. Don't look so surprised," she answered somewhat derisively. "I told you girls did it too."

"Yeah, but...Mom?"

"Don't be such an ass!" Melissa flared, "Mom also happens to be 32 years old and a damn sexy woman in case you hadn't noticed. It's not like she became a nun just because Dad left."

She whirled to go, but not before giving the bulge at the front of his towel a gentle stroke, causing her brother to draw in his breath quickly. Laughing at his discomposure, she bounded back down the stairs.

 

Dinner was a quiet affair, each of the three family members quietly digesting the new revelations and feelings about each other the afternoon had uncovered. In answer to his mother's question about why he was home early, Keith could only mumble that they had an unscheduled cross-country meet the following afternoon, so the coach cancelled practice since they never practiced the day before a meet. After that, beyond occasional pleasantries, they lapsed into silence again.

After dinner, as Melissa was getting up to go upstairs to dress, her mother asked, "Do you know what you want to wear to the dance or would you like my help."

Her daughter's first impulse was to say no but decided that perhaps it wasn't necessary to avoid her mom as much as she used to. So instead, she smiled and said, "Actually, I think I could use your help. I want to look nice, but not too nice. I mean, uh, I don't want to look like a total slut, but I would like the boys to notice me, if you know what I mean."

Keith raised one eyebrow sardonically. She simpered and batted her eyes at him mockingly, causing him to both chuckle and blush.

Their mother laughed at her children's interplay and said, "I think I do know what you mean. I'll be up as soon as I get the dishes rinsed. I've got a couple ideas I think you might like."

 

Margaret knocked briefly on her daughter's door, then opened it and stepped inside carrying a shopping bag from one of the tonier department stores. She found Melissa standing in her closet, surveying her outfits, chewing thoughtfully on one finger. She was wearing only panties, and her mother felt a sudden warmth in her crotch as she admired the precociously full breasts and soft feminine curves of her rapidly developing twelve-year-old daughter.

Since Melissa apparently hadn't noticed her standing there yet, Margaret stood watching in silent admiration for as long as she dared. She began to drift into a pleasant daydream about caressing that perfect, creamy skin and kissing those young, ample tits when her daughter startled her by asking, "Do you think I should go with the black skirt and a halter top, or would that be way too, you know, `hoochie-looking'?"

"Umm, I-I'm not sure – let's see them," her mother stammered, embarrassed that her daughter had obviously known she was there and ogling her.

Melissa smiled to herself, because she had known her mother was there and was secretly thrilled that she could catch her out like that. She also was interested to discover that she liked the feeling of her mother admiring her body almost as much as she had enjoyed Keith's lustful inspection that afternoon. It made her feel grown up and very sexy. She stretched with seeming nonchalance, raising her arms high over her head before bringing one back down behind her head in what she fancied was a sexy, sultry pose.

Her mother had recovered her composure enough to dryly observe, "Yes, you've got a nice body. Are we going to find something for you to wear? I've still got to get an overnight bag together for you if you're going to spend the night with Stephanie, and they're going to be here in less than half an hour."

It was her daughter's turn to grin a bit sheepishly, and she took the proposed outfit off the closet rod and held it in front of her for her mother's inspection.

"Well, I'd have to agree that it's maybe just a wee bit over the top. What did you call it? Hoochie?" laughed the older woman. Melissa shrugged and began to hang them back up.

"Wait," urged her mother, "The skirt isn't bad at all. I just am not sure a halter top is right. Before you pick a top, why don't you try this on?" She held out the shopping bag.

"What's this?" Melissa asked curiously.

"Just something that I picked up for you. I was going to save it for Christmas, but this seems like a much better occasion."

Melissa smiled eagerly and opened the bag, pulling out a beautiful set of bra and matching panties in a vivid purple print, the material extremely sheer and obviously expensive. But what really struck the girl was the daring cut. The panties were cut so high on the hips that it was practically a thong, while the bra only had material on the lower outside part of each cup. They were the sexiest undergarments the young girl had ever seen.

"Oh, Mom!" she breathed at last. "They're beautiful. I can't believe you'd let me wear something like this – not that I'm complaining," she added quickly, lest her mother change her mind.

"Well, you're growing up into a beautiful, sexy young woman," her mother answered carefully. "It's time you had something like this for, well, for special occasions. Like this one." She felt poignant tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "The bra is one of those push-up Wonderbra types. Not that you need any help, but hey, when you've got it, flaunt it. You did say you wanted to be noticed..."

"Thanks, Mom!" Melissa said warmly, and she deliberately came over and put her arms around her mother's neck and kissed her. This time, the effect of the touch of her completely exposed nipples on her mother's soft, large breasts was immediate and unmistakable. They both gasped at the sensation, and the kiss which had started with the young girl's lips on her mother's cheek changed into something very different as their lips sought each other and connected firmly in a full kiss on the mouth. Melissa moaned softly as she breathed in the scent of her mother's perfumed hair.

Margaret was so shaken that she dropped the shopping bag without noticing and brought her hands up to softly stroke the luscious, creamy skin of her young girl's nearly nude body. Only the knowledge that Stephanie and her father would soon be ringing their doorbell saved her from carrying things any further.

She tore herself loose with a shake and said in a voice gone low and husky with arousal, "Why don't you put those on?"

Melissa stepped back with an enigmatic smile, as if she had just confirmed a suspicion and handed the new lingerie back to her mother. Wordlessly, and without turning away from her mother's clearly lascivious gaze, she pulled down her panties, letting her mother have a lingering view of the soft red down of her pussy. Her mother could only swallow repeatedly.

The young girl then stepped close to her mother and asked softly, "Would you show me how to put the bra on?"

With bright eyes and trembling hands, the older woman smiled her assent and brought the brassiere around her daughter's back, showing her how it clasped in the front. Then, unable to stop herself, she cupped her daughter's firm breasts in either hand, and gently jiggled them so that the cleavage in front was full and deep.

"Beautiful," she breathed. Not trusting herself to speak any further, she handed the thin silky panties to the pubescent girl, who bent over to put them on, then stood back so she could see herself in the full-length mirror on the closet door.

"Wow," was all she murmured.

"Wow, indeed," agreed her mother. "Why don't you put on that black skirt while I look for a top that might work?"

After a moment's search, Margaret held up a garment. "This is what I was looking for."

It was a sleeveless blouse in a soft cream color, with pearl buttons down the front. Melissa was skeptical. "That looks so, I don't know – ordinary," she complained.

"Just try it," urged her mother.

With a doubtful look, the girl took the blouse and put it on. It hugged her figure snugly, almost but not quite straining the buttons over her protruding breasts. The purple color of her bra was vaguely visible through the pale, thin material. As she studied herself in the mirror, she had to admit, her mother might have been right.

"Just one more little touch," grinned her mother, who reached out and brazenly unbuttoned one additional button at the top. She then tugged at the bottom of the blouse to adjust it, and Melissa cried with delight. Her mother's minor adjustment had brought her emphasized cleavage into full view.

"So, does that fit the bill of getting you noticed without being too obvious?" asked her mother, inordinately pleased with her daughter's reaction.

"Well, it seems pretty frigging obvious to me," laughed Melissa, "But I think it's perfect."

"I'm so glad," murmured Margaret, struggling to tear her eyes away from her daughter's gorgeous breasts. "If you'll let me get the stuff together you'll need for your overnight bag and then meet me in the bathroom, I think maybe we could try just a little makeup, too."

"Oh, Mom! You mean it?"

"I think this is definitely an appropriate occasion. Just a little – you're so young and pretty, you don't need much. But redheads always need a little help with the eyes and eyebrows. Don't take too long; your ride will be here any minute."

 

Melissa stepped carefully down the stairs, trying not to show any awkwardness in the skirt and low heels. She found Keith just heading up and stood aside to let him pass. He paused and looked her up and down with an appreciative chuckle.

"Hmmmm," he murmured at last, "The way you look almost makes me wish I was back in junior high again."

"I'll take that as a compliment," his sister answered with pleased surprise. "And don't worry," she added in a low tone meant only for him, "I haven't forgotten our `deal'. You'll just have to wait until I get back."

Keith grinned, gave a shrug, and said, "Have a great time. You look really nice – and no, not too nice."

Melissa laughed with genuine pleasure at her brother. He gave her cleavage one last, longing glance and then turned and continued up the stairs. Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Mom!" called Melissa, "They're here."

"Okay," answered her mother in a hurried, muffled voice, "Just get your jacket and head out to their car. I'll be right behind you with your bag. Do you want to bring your favorite pillow?"

"Sure, Mom. Thanks." Melissa reached the front door and pulled it open.

Stephanie was standing there with her father. Her friend was wearing a simple outfit of dark burgundy pants with a faint silky sheen and a short stretch top in a pastel print that left her slim midriff slightly exposed.

"Wow, you look great, Steph!" enthused Melissa.

"And you look, well, just fantastic. Doesn't she, Dad?" Stephanie asked her father.

"Yes, she does. Very grown up," he agreed with unfathomable expression on his face.

"I've just got to grab my jacket and I'll be ready. Mom'll be along any minute with my bag for tonight." Melissa excused herself and headed to the hall closet for her favorite leather coat.

As Melissa departed, Margaret came down the stairs with a small black overnight bag. She had been expecting her daughter to already be out at her friend's car and was startled to find not only Stephanie but Stephanie's father standing in the entryway. Though Stephanie had been a frequent guest, Margaret had never met John Muller before. As she reached the foot of the stairs, she found herself looking up into the face of a tall, lanky man with an unruly shock of dark hair, a trim beard showing scattered flecks of gray, and the most intense blue-gray eyes she had ever seen.

"Hi, I'm John Muller," he said with a friendly smile. "I'm glad to finally get to meet you. Stephanie speaks really highly of you." He extended his hand.

Margaret stood there in confusion, unable to utter a word.

"Mom?" inquired Melissa at her elbow, having returned with her jacket, "Are you okay?"

Coming to her senses with a sudden shake of her head, Margaret answered, "Yes, yes of course I'm okay." She felt her cheeks beginning to burn. What was the matter with her?

Melissa looked at her mother dubiously and noticed that Stephanie's father still had his hand out to her mother. She gave her mother a sharp nudge and nodded meaningfully at the man standing in front of them.

Looking even more flustered, Margaret took John's hand and shook it. "I'm Margaret Randall. I'm very pleased to meet you at last, too. Please forgive me - I'm really not usually such a ninny. I've got a million things on my mind." Idiot! Idiot! Margaret thought furiously to herself. What a stupid thing to say! Why was she behaving like a silly schoolgirl? Her daughter was the one going to the dance, not her.

John gave her a kind smile, and Margaret noticed that his eyes crinkled when he smiled in a way that started butterflies dancing in her stomach. "Believe me, I understand, Margaret," John said. "It's incredibly difficult to raise two kids by yourself. Some days I didn't know how I was ever going to manage. But it does get better, or at least a little easier after a while."

"Well, thank you for understanding," Margaret said in a relieved tone, very pleased at his gallantry. "And thank you so much for letting Melissa spend the night. I hope it isn't putting you to any trouble?"

John laughed, a deep, resonant laugh that made Margaret's stomach flutter all over again. "None at all. Melissa's a fine girl and the best friend my daughter could have. She's always welcome." He glanced at his watch and said to Melissa and Stephanie, "Well, if you're ready to go, we should probably hit the road. Brad's waiting for us in the car."

Melissa took her bag and pillow from her mother's arms and kissed her goodbye. John immediately relieved Melissa of her belongings and told the girls to go get in the car. As he was turning to leave, he stopped and said to Margaret, "Don't worry about a thing, Margaret. Melissa will be fine, and I'll bring her back before noon tomorrow. It was great to finally meet you."

"Well, likewise. Thank you again for taking her and letting her spend the night with you. With Stephanie, I mean." Margaret ground her teeth silently. Why did she say that? What was he going to think she was implying? She felt her cheeks begin to flush all over again.

"I knew what you meant," chuckled John. He gave her a mock salute and turned down the walkway.

"Have a great time!" Margaret called after her daughter and Stephanie. "You both look wonderful!"

"Bye, Mom! See you tomorrow," Melissa called back from the back seat of the car where she had settled in next to her friend. Moments later, the car pulled away and drove off into the dusk.

 

As Mr. Muller guided the car through the streets of Hadley on their way to the school, Stephanie was clearly bursting with excitement. "This is just so great!" she enthused. "I can't believe your mom let you go without a fight. And she let you go looking like that! Jesus, you look like you're about to, well, I don't know, spill out of your top or something." She glanced worriedly at her father to see if he had overheard, but he was engrossed in a conversation with Brad in the front seat.

"Are you kidding?" Melissa replied in a lower voice, "My mom helped dress me – she even gave me this push-up bra specially for the occasion." She pulled the collar of her blouse aside a bit so her friend could admire the material.

"No shit! I guess you must have tried being nice to her after all."

"Well, yeah," Melissa admitted, "And it wasn't so hard after all. Maybe we were both ready to call a truce after all this time."

"So were you able to get inside your house, or did you just sit outside?"

"I got in."

Something about the tone of Melissa's voice made her friend glance at her sharply. "What?" Stephanie demanded, "Something happened."

"Something happened," Melissa agreed with a mysterious smile. "I'll tell you later."

"Oooh, secrets," her friend murmured, raising her eyebrows. "And why can't you just tell me now?"

"Because it's not the kind of thing that I'd ever want overheard," Melissa whispered meaningfully. "Sort of like that story you told me on the way home from school today."

"Sort of like – Oh." Stephanie gulped as she remembered her confession to Melissa about touching her dad's cock. "You mean, you, you...Keith! You saw your brother's, uh, like we talked about?" Stephanie was beginning to squirm in her seat.

Melissa just put a finger up to her lips and said, "Later. I'll tell you later." Then she leaned over and whispered softly into her young friend's ear, "Besides, it'll be a great story to listen to while I teach you to come over and over tonight."

Stephanie looked directly into Melissa's face, her eyes smoky with growing arousal and whispered, "I was afraid maybe you'd forgotten about that, or, you know, had second thoughts or something."

"Oh, no," Melissa murmured with a mischievous smile. "I haven't forgotten. You're not getting away from me that easily."

Her friend said nothing, but her dark eyes said everything. Melissa felt new stirrings of lust in the depths of her pre-teen pussy and could sense a flood of cunt juices beginning to find their way into her new silky panties to mix with the residue of her brother's come already there. She was tingling with a wave of sexual excitement, anticipating the evening before her.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, but would catch each other's glances, and then they would smile. Tonight was going to be a night to remember.

 

An hour into the dance, though, Melissa was seriously bored.

The two girls had entered the dimly lit school multi-purpose room in a high state of excitement. The music was already blaring from the speakers, and there was a real professional DJ up on a platform bouncing to the beat. Melissa was looking forward to dancing, and maybe even catching Stephanie's brother Brad's eye.

However, no one seemed to notice the pair. Eighth graders all seemed to be dancing with other eighth graders, and most of the seventh grade boys were hanging out with each other, obviously reluctant to be the first to dare asking a girl to dance.

Melissa and Stephanie had spent the first several minutes commenting to each other about the outfits their classmates were wearing, but that amusement faded quickly. After lapsing into silence for several minutes, Stephanie leaned over and shouted into Melissa's ear over the din of the music, "So what's the big secret about Keith? You might as well tell me now – it for sure doesn't look like we're going to spend any time dancing."

Melissa considered briefly, but finally shook her head with a smile, "No, it'd be just my luck that the music would suddenly stop and there I'd be shouting something at the top of my lungs I'd rather not have anyone but you hear."

They both giggled at the thought, before Melissa added with a mischievous gleam in her eye, "Besides, I told you you'd have to wait until you're making yourself come later. It really is a good story for that, hmmm?"

"Ooooh," breathed her friend, "Now I really don't want to wait." She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "I could just start touching myself right here while you tell me."

When Melissa gasped at her friend's audacity, Stephanie went on with a gesture towards the dance floor, "At least some boys might notice us then!"

Melissa had to laugh out loud at that, but shook her head ruefully, "Yeah, but with our luck, the only one to notice would be Mrs. Gunderson."

"That old bitch," muttered Stephanie, "Where is she?"

They both turned to look for the dreaded vice-principal, and finally spotted her standing by the refreshment table surveying the crowd of students with a sour expression.

"I guess you really are going to have to wait until we get back to your room at home," Melissa teased.

"Shit," groaned her dark-haired friend. "Well, I'm going to find some way to pay you back tonight for getting me all hot and curious and then leaving me hanging. I don't know how, but I'm going to make you pay."

"Hmmmm," Melissa said with a smile, "The way you say that makes me think I might even enjoy the `payback'."

"You'll just have to wait and see," countered Stephanie with a sidelong glance. Suddenly her expression changed. "Oh, great!" she said, shaking her head and gesturing towards the dance floor. "I might have known that the guys in our class would finally go after that group when they got up the guts to dance."

Melissa followed her friend's gesture and saw that a few of the boys in their class were out on the floor dancing with several of the girls in the popular clique who had made them both feel unwelcome from the first.

"Yeah, well, what do you expect?" agreed Melissa. "Maybe we should both start playing with ourselves."

"Or each other," giggled Stephanie. "If everyone thought we were lesbians, there'd be a reason for them to ignore us. At least then we'd be having fun at the same time," she added.

Melissa looked at her best friend, trying to see in the dim light if Stephanie were serious. The suggestion startled her because she'd been thinking much the same thing to herself. However, Stephanie had turned her head away, watching a figure descend upon them from across the floor.

"Shit!" groaned Stephanie, "As if things couldn't possibly get any worse."

Melissa looked up to see Stephanie's brother, Brad walking towards them with an odd expression on his face. In place of his usual sardonic smirk, he looked positively nervous. What was going on, she wondered? But in spite of her friend's trepidation, Brad was definitely one of the people she wanted to see right then, and she resolved to keep an open mind. She forced herself to sit up and put what she hoped was a welcoming smile on her face.

Brad walked up and stood in front of them but didn't say anything. For her part, Stephanie seemed determined to ignore her brother completely. Finally, in a tone that betrayed more exasperation than she would have liked, Melissa said, "Well, hi, Brad. Enjoying yourself?"

Melissa inwardly kicked herself for not being able to come up with something less sarcastic sounding, but instead of causing Brad to turn on his heel and stalk off (which she was half expecting) it only seemed to fluster him more.

After what seemed an interminable moment, during which Brad could only seem to gulp and clear his throat, he eventually croaked, "W-would you like to dance?"

This was the last thing Melissa had expected, and even Stephanie dropped her icy façade to stare at her brother in amazed approval. Now it was Melissa's turn to be unaccountably struck dumb, and it was only when she felt the sharp dig of her friend's foot on her own that she recovered herself enough to smile in a way she hoped was gracious and allow that she'd be happy to.

As she followed Brad out onto the now-crowded dance floor, she gave a backward glance to Stephanie, shrugging both in wonder and in apology for leaving her. To her relief, Stephanie didn't seem upset in the slightest, even giving her an I-told-you-so smile and shooing her onto the floor with a gesture.

Melissa felt a bit unsure at first – she and Stephanie had practiced dancing to the radio, but she'd never actually tried it in public before. But as the beat of the music pumped through her, she soon loosened up and began to sway and gyrate with feeling. She noticed Brad watching her intently. For a moment, she feared she was doing something wrong or looking ridiculous, until she noticed that his eyes were locked on her body, especially the ample cleavage on display from her daringly buttoned blouse.

She was torn for a moment between conflicting emotions – on the one hand, it would have been nice if Brad had seemed interested in all of her or would at least look in her eyes now and then. On the other hand, the combination of the incessant, pulsing beat and the knowledge that a very cute boy was admiring her body filled her with resurgent lust, and she found herself basking in the attention, deliberately making moves that would enhance his view of her precocious tits.

She smiled to see Brad's interest obviously piqued by her seductive dancing, and she reveled in her newly awakened sexuality. All the experiences of the afternoon with her brother came flooding back over her, and she abandoned herself to the sensation, raising her arms over her head in a sinuous motion that produced a gratifying intake of breath from her partner.

She finally caught his eye and gave Brad a mischievous grin. He grinned right back, seeming to understand from her look and gesture that she didn't mind him ogling. For the rest of the song, she just let herself get lost in erotic motion, fantasizing first about Brad, then Keith, imagining them caressing her naked body, kissing her, sucking her nipples, and shoving their hard pricks into her eager mouth and cunt.

As the song ended, Melissa realized to her own shock, that she had even allowed herself to imagine the two boys making love to her at the same time. But what shocked her even more was that she realized that she welcomed the thought. She knew that she shouldn't be having thoughts like that – it was bad enough just wanting to fuck her own brother, and now to find that she would like to be fucked at the same time by both her own brother and her best friend's brother – she was almost appalled at her depravity. Almost. The truth was, at that moment she was so burning with pure lust that she felt like she was capable of almost anything right then. Heck, she admitted to herself, I might as well throw Stephanie in as long as I'm fantasizing about the ultimate perverted fuck-fest.

She thought back to her friend's comment a few minutes before about them touching each other, about them being lesbians. Stephanie didn't really sound like she was joking, and Melissa had to concede that the thought of touching her friend's young pussy and letting Stephanie touch her as well sounded, well, it didn't sound bad at all. And the thought of the two of them sharing each other as well as their brothers at the same time made her toes curl with arousal. She realized that she was incredibly wet between her legs and drenching the beautiful new panties her mother had provided her. Oh well, she thought ruefully, as long as nothing runs down my legs.

The final drumbeats of the music faded, and she looked at Brad warmly. "Thanks for asking me to dance," she smiled.

"Sure," Brad said with a look of newfound appreciation. "Uh, you want to dance another?"

The DJ was saying something about everyone grabbing someone special because the next dance was going to be a slow one.

An impish smile spread across Melissa's face. "Sure, why not?" she shrugged with an indifference she didn't actually feel.

As the music swelled up, a romantic ballad that was currently quite popular on the radio, Brad held his arms open invitingly, and Melissa stepped in close. She wasn't really sure what to do – she and Stephanie hadn't practiced this – but she glanced quickly around to see how the other girls were doing it. While a few seemed to be in a formal pose with the boy's arm around the girl's waist and her hand held primly in his, most of the couples just seemed to opt for simply putting their arms around each other and swaying together.

Melissa thought that the latter looked a lot easier, and a whole lot sexier besides. So she reached out and put her arms around Brad's neck, pulling him tightly against her eager young body. Brad had no choice but to wrap his arms around her waist. Brad wasn't that much shorter than her, Melissa decided as their bodies began to move in time with the music. His head fit perfectly in the hollow of her neck, and she found the tickling sensation of his breath there disturbingly erotic.

She pulled him even closer and enjoyed the feeling of his body next to hers. They danced in silence for a few moments, and Melissa had time to glance around in search of Stephanie.

To her surprise, she found her out on the dance floor, swaying with one of the eighth-grade friends of her brother. Stephanie was watching her, and as soon as they made eye contact, Stephanie gave her a very lascivious, slow, knowing wink. Melissa giggled.

"What?" Brad wanted to know.

"Nothing," she whispered loudly into his ear, "Your sister cracks me up, that's all."

"Yeah, she's pretty funny sometimes. What's she doing?"

"Oh, she's just dancing. She just made a funny face at me."

Brad turned them around on the floor so he could glimpse his sister.

"Good," he said presently. "The guys were teasing me about not having the guts to ask you to dance, so I told them if I did, then they had to dance with Stephanie."

"What a good brother! Sometimes you surprise me, Brad," Melissa said, genuinely touched at his consideration.

"Shhhh," he cautioned. "Don't tell anyone – I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation as a stupid jerk."

Melissa was momentarily taken aback. She pulled her face away so she could see Brad's. "She doesn't really think you're a stupid jerk," she protested weakly.

"Yeah, she really does," Brad said with a shrug. "And you know? Sometimes I am a stupid jerk. But I do care about her."

Melissa was silent while she digested this last bit. There was more to Brad Muller than she'd realized, she was quickly coming to appreciate. At last she suggested, "Maybe you should tell her sometimes."

"Yeah, I know. It's just easier to tease most of the time."

Another thought occurred to Melissa. "So is that why you were afraid to ask me to dance? Because of what Stephanie says?"

Brad shrugged, obviously uncomfortable with the question.

"Or is it because I'm just a seventh-grader and you thought your friends would make fun of you?" she persisted.

"No, no, nothing like that," he said quickly. "It's more the opposite situation."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused. "Do you mean that I'm older than you? I'm not."

"Yeah, I know," he grinned at her remark. "No, it's more like you're, well, um..." His voice trailed off.

"More like what," she demanded.

"More, you know, grown up than most everyone else. I mean, even more than the eighth-grade girls, if you know what I mean."

Melissa shook her head with wry amusement. "Yeah, I think I do. So basically you're saying that you were afraid to ask me to dance because I've got big boobs?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, not just that," he added hastily. "It's more like you're more grown up all over. And you seem even more like it tonight – even more than this afternoon."

Melissa received this observation in silence, wondering if the fact that she had actually sucked come off the end of her own brother's cock that afternoon and still had traces of it left in the crack of her ass was somehow written in large letters across her face. Finally she decided she was being stupid; Brad had just noticed that she was really horny, though he apparently didn't recognize that for what it was. Maybe her newly awakened sexuality was visible somehow, and to Brad it made her seem more grown up, and a little intimidating. He seemed to have gotten over his fear by now, she noted dryly to herself.

Brad laid his head against her neck again. Melissa noticed that he had positioned himself so that he had a perfect, close-up view down the front of her blouse. She chuckled softly to herself. She didn't really mind him looking; in fact, it felt really nice to be admired by someone she was coming to like a great deal.

The song finally ended but by unspoken agreement neither moved to excuse themselves, and when the DJ queued up another song, this one an upbeat dance number, they simply started dancing with each other again. For the rest of the evening, the two of them stayed together, dancing song after song. Melissa was drenched with perspiration, but she felt happier than she could ever remember, invigorated by the music and by Brad's obvious interest in her.

From time to time, they would see Stephanie dancing by, sometimes with one of Brad's friends, sometimes with one of the boys from their class. Melissa guessed that once their classmates had seen her dancing with the older boys, she was considered acceptable company. To her amazement, some of the popular girls in her class smiled at her occasionally. Apparently, being the subject of interest by one of the cuter eighth-grade boys had changed her status as well.

Towards the end of the evening, Stephanie would stick close by with whomever she was dancing, and often the four of them would form their own little dance group on the floor, trying out moves and laughing at the results. Melissa was very glad that Stephanie had convinced her to come.

The moment finally came when the DJ announced the last song of the night. Melissa grabbed Brad around the neck without the slightest hesitation, and he slid his arms around her just as eagerly. They clung tightly to each other despite their dampness from their exertions.

Melissa found her mind constantly returning to the image of her friend and their two brothers fucking her together, and she began squirming with arousal at the image. Brad responded, to her delight, by working his leg in between hers as they moved to the music. She quickly realized that this had the effect of working his thigh up and down slowly against her inflamed pussy and, with a secret smile, began to complement his motions. She realized that she could be dangerously close to coming if this kept up for long.

She also became aware that Brad was also grinding his crotch surreptitiously against her thigh. To her amazement and delight, she could even feel the hard outline of his cock against her leg, and it was growing rapidly. She parted her legs a bit more to bring them into even closer contact and ground right back, earning a soft moan from Brad.

"Oh, God, Melissa," Brad whispered huskily into her ear. "You are so incredibly beautiful and sexy!"

"You think so?" she whispered back, beginning to feel a bit dazed and giddy with arousal.

"Ohhhhhh, definitely," he groaned softly. He increased the tempo of his surreptitious thrusting against her thigh, sending waves of pleasure from her over-sensitized cunt throbbing through her pre-pubescent body as his leg pressed into her groin. She felt the first stirring of an orgasm building deep within her.

Brad's hands began to roam up and down her back, and Melissa noticed with lustful amusement that his hands swooped a little lower down her back with each pass, until finally he was actually fondling her ass cheeks as they slowly ground their crotches into each other's legs. Melissa was breathing hard now, and her heart was pounding so fast she thought it must drown out the music for the other dancers. She laid her head down on Brad's shoulder, only able to whimper as the inevitable climax began to rise up and claim her.

"Ahem!" a sharp voice said suddenly from behind her. Brad immediately froze in her arms.

Melissa was so close to orgasm that for a brief moment she didn't comprehend what was happening. Then, like a splash of cold water in the face, she realized that someone was speaking to them, and that she was on a dance floor surrounded by teachers and classmates, and she'd been just about to come in front of them all!

Mortified, she straightened up and turned her head to see Mrs. Gunderson glaring at them.

"If you two ever want to attend another school dance, you'd better cool it right now," she hissed. "I want to see you dancing right, and at a proper distance from each other, not groping each other like monkeys in the zoo! And you, young man," she went on, addressing Brad directly, "I don't ever want to see your hands where they don't belong like that again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," they both hurriedly stammered. They quickly drew apart, and Brad held his arms out stiffly in an exaggerated imitation of what he thought must be `proper' form, causing Melissa to stifle a giggle as they began to dance again with a good foot and a half of space between them. Mrs. Gunderson sniffed once, then whirled and stalked away.

Only once they had assured themselves that she was really out of earshot did they dare to even look at each other. When they did, they both burst out laughing, a combination of relief and embarrassment.

"She scared the holy shit out of me!" exclaimed Melissa when their laughter had faded to nervous giggles.

"Me too," Brad agreed. "I thought I was going to piss my pants!"

Melissa looked around at the other students around them. Their escapade had attracted a fair amount of attention, and she could see the expressions of their classmates ranging from sneers to amusement to – in more than a few instances – outright sympathy. Those last were from many of the `steady' couples who had run afoul of Mrs. Gunderson before for what she termed `inappropriate public displays of affection'.

Finally, she found Stephanie's eyes, and was puzzled by the expression she found there. Not amusement, exactly - there was a mischievous gleam, but also a smoky kind of look that Melissa couldn't fathom at first. Then she knew where she'd seen that look before – on her own face that afternoon as she fingered herself to an orgasm in front of the bathroom mirror after she'd seen Keith masturbating. Stephanie was totally turned on!

She must have been watching them on the dance floor. She watched her best friend and her brother basically dry-humping each other, and she was totally aroused by the sight! Melissa wondered if Stephanie might even share her fantasy about double-brother sex. Maybe there'd be a way to bring it up later tonight.

"Are you okay?" Brad asked her softly.

Melissa thought for a moment about how to answer that. Sure I'm okay, except that I'm incredibly horny and incredibly frustrated because I was just about to come all over your leg when that bitch Gunderson interrupted, and now I'm trying to figure out how to get you, your sister, and my brother all into bed together because even though I've never fucked anyone yet, I can't wait to try it with all three of you. And now half the school will probably think I'm some kind of total slut because I couldn't even control myself with you at a school dance. So what's not to be okay about?

Wisely, she decided this might not be the right time to blurt all that out, though the way things had been going, it would be just like her. Instead, she smiled and nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay. But you get me in big trouble – you're a very naughty boy, Brad Muller."

He grinned a bit sheepishly. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No," she admitted. "I liked it." She fixed him with a gaze from lowered eyes.

Brad raised his eyebrows at her forthrightness and gulped, "Well, I guess that makes you a very naughty girl, now doesn't it?"

"Maybe it does. But I don't think we'd better try to prove it at any more school dances."

"No," Brad agreed. He paused then added in a low voice, "I liked it, too."

"I'm glad," she whispered as the music from the last dance faded, and they reluctantly stepped away from each other's arms.

The lights in the room came up as the DJ was thanking everyone. Melissa turned again to Brad and said, "I've got to find Steph, and I need to go to the ladies room before we leave, since you never let me off the dance floor, naughty boy." She grinned to show him she was teasing. "Why don't you find your dad out front and let him know we'll be along as soon as we can get through the crush. You know how the lines are in girls' bathrooms. Or maybe you don't," she chuckled. "Anyway, we'll see you out at the car, okay?"

"Okay," he laughed. "See you soon. Don't get lost," he added with a sweet smile that made Melissa's heart skip a beat.

She found Stephanie in a few moments and gathered her coat, telling her of her need to stop by the bathroom.

"Hmmm," said her friend, that same smoky gleam still in her eye. "We'll be forever trying to wait in that line." She gestured at the door to the girls restroom where there was already a queue forming outside the door. "Follow me. I've got an idea."

Melissa looked at her friend inquiringly, but got no answer beyond a peremptory gesture of the head, motioning her to follow. Shrugging, she trailed after the shorter, dark-haired girl.

Stephanie led them out the side door and across the strip of grass that separated the multi-purpose room from the rest of the school.

"Steph, where are you taking us?" Melissa puffed, hurrying to keep up with her friend's determined stride. Stephanie said nothing as she led them past the rows of classrooms and lockers, finally ducking in under the portico of the classroom building on the far side of the campus.

"Now, if they still don't lock this one," Stephanie muttered as she pushed on a door in the dark, "Ah!" And the door swung open. "Inside, my dear," she gestured grandly, "Your private restroom awaits."

Melissa hesitated at the darkened doorway. "Uh, Steph, are you sure? I mean, someone could be in there, you know."

Stephanie shrugged, "It's possible. So if you want to go back and wait in the line, you can. But since we're here, we might as well go in. I mean, who's going to be hanging out in here on the off chance a couple of girls might wander by to piss? C'mon – we'll go in together and check it out. C'mon!" she urged again. "You still have your punishment coming for holding out on me about," and she lowered her voice, "You know what. Come inside and accept your fate."

Melissa was still nervous, but she really did have to pee, and besides, the way Stephanie hinted, it sounded like she might have something sexy in mind. So she swallowed hard and followed her friend into the gloom.

Inside, it wasn't quite as dark as she feared. The streetlights outside shone through the frosted windows, providing a ghostly but serviceable light to the interior. She and Stephanie quickly went down the line of stalls, opening each one to prove it empty.

At the last stall, having satisfied herself that they really were alone, Melissa couldn't wait any longer and stepped inside, barely managing to get her skirt hiked up and her panties down to her ankles before she sat and released the urgent stream of piss from her aching bladder. The tinkle echoed oddly in the empty restroom.

To her surprise, Stephanie had quickly stepped into the stall behind her and was standing there when Melissa looked up. Stephanie locked the stall door behind her.

"What are you doing in here? Don't you have to go, too?" Melissa asked, bewildered by Stephanie's behavior.

"In a minute," her friend answered in a strangely tight voice, her face obscured in the dimness. "First, it's time for your punishment."

Melissa began to get more than a little concerned. They were alone together in a dark, abandoned restroom late at night, and her friend had been acting so strangely. Though, come to think of it, Melissa had to admit, she'd been acting a bit strangely herself. She decided to go along, at least until she understood what Stephanie had in mind.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Me? I'm not going to do anything. It's you that's going to do something."

"Okay, what am I going to do?" Melissa countered, not wanting to play guessing games.

She could see Stephanie's head bend down as if she were looking at Melissa's feet. "Well," Stephanie began, "You're partway done already. What you're going to do is give me your bra and panties."

"What?" spluttered Melissa, thoroughly confused.

"You heard me. Take off your bra and panties and give them to me."

"Uh, can I ask why?"

"Oh, don't worry," chided Stephanie, "I'll give them back to you tomorrow. I know you told me your mom gave them to you tonight so she'd probably notice if they didn't come back with you." She snorted, "It's not like I'm going to be able to wear them anyway."

"Then why -?" Melissa asked.

"Because I've decided that your punishment is for you to give my dear brother, who I told you likes you, a real show on the way home. You, my dear friend, are going to tease darling Brad unmercifully, and you're going to keep on doing it, and doing it the best way you know how, until you come across and tell me what happened with your brother today. So come on, girl – off with your bra and panties! I want Brad to get so totally horny that we can hear him jerking off all night through my bedroom wall."

"You got a good start on it already tonight. Oh, don't try to deny it!" Stephanie continued in a commanding tone, holding up her hand as Melissa opened her mouth to protest. "Maybe most people besides old lady Gunderson didn't see what you were up to, but I did. Shit, that dance you two were doing should have been in a porno film. I'm amazed you both didn't come right then."

"Actually, I almost did," Melissa admitted in a whisper. "I was this close," she held up her finger and thumb almost touching, "and I think maybe I even did start to. And then it was like, noooooo!"

"I thought so," Stephanie said in a smug tone. "And he had his hands all over your ass. And you were letting him!"

"It felt nice," protested Melissa weakly.

"I'll bet it did," said Stephanie, shaking her head. "And it got me so God damned horny I was about ready to make good on my threat and start fingering my crotch right then and there. So you owe me – you owe me twice. Once for teasing me with hints about something you saw of your gorgeous brother and refusing to tell me about it, and then by getting me all hot dirty dancing with my brother. That's it. Enough stalling. Off with your underwear, Mel! My dad's going to be wondering what happened to us."

Actually, her friend's talk had gotten Melissa extremely aroused again, and the reminder of how close she'd been to climax with Brad made her pussy ache to be stroked. But she thought she'd try one last gambit to weasel out of complying with her friend's demand.

"If I'm giving you my underthings, you've got to give me yours," Melissa demanded.

Melissa could almost see her friend's triumphant smile in the darkness.

"Sure," Stephanie shrugged, "Why not?"

Gazing intently at Melissa, Stephanie pulled her top off over her head and handed it wordlessly to her friend. Then she quickly tugged the drawstring of her pants untied, and slid them down her legs. Stepping out of the pants and shoes, she handed them to Melissa as well.

Melissa felt her throat going dry and her heart beginning to pound. She'd seen her friend undressed before, plenty of times. But this was different. This time Stephanie was undressing for her, right in front of her, so close she could smell the soft perfume of her friend's young, slim body. Melissa began to breathe heavily.

Stephanie, now clad only in brassiere and panties, reached behind her and unclasped the hooks of the bra, shrugging out of it in one smooth motion. She handed the undergarment to Melissa and stood back.

The pale light in the gloomy restroom shone on the small, creamy mounds on Stephanie's chest. Melissa could hardly breathe now, fearful of breaking the erotic spell of the moment. She realized that, despite her friend's complaints, there was actually nothing wrong whatsoever with the size or shape of Stephanie's small, budding breasts. They were perfect for her slender body, and Melissa could barely keep from reaching out to caress them.

Stephanie seemed to be feeling the same erotic tension of the moment, because Melissa could hear her friend's breathing quicken as well. Still saying nothing, Stephanie pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. As she stooped to pick them up, her hair brushed close to Melissa's face, and Melissa could smell the fragrance. To Melissa's now lust-fogged brain, the scent emanating from her friend's crotch seemed incredibly delicious.

Stephanie straightened and stood before Melissa completely nude, the dark patch of her cunt showing distinctly despite the meager light. Melissa had the strong impression that her friend was offering her body, inviting Melissa to gaze, and to accept it. They both remained still for a moment, the only sound their quickened breathing.

Finally Stephanie handed the panties to Melissa as well, and said in a hoarse whisper, "Your turn."

Melissa knew that she was being asked to do the same thing. As she stood, swallowing hard, Stephanie added, "Here, let me sit down now. I've got to pee, too. And I'll take my pants and top back."

They sidled around each other in the narrow stall, Stephanie making no effort whatever to avoid contact, so Melissa's hands brushed over her friend's body as they passed. She felt her face grow hot, but the momentary embarrassment quickly changed to heightened arousal as she realized that Stephanie had done it on purpose. She continued edging around to the stall door until their places were reversed, her movements made awkward by the fact that her panties were still down around her ankles – there hadn't been time or room to pull them up.

Stephanie unconcernedly sat down on the toilet and, with a relieved sigh, pissed long and steadily. More than anything else Stephanie had done, Melissa found that she was erotically fascinated with the sound and the act of her friend's peeing in front of her. This was something they'd never done together, certainly not in the same stall. She found herself struggling against the urge to thrust her hand down between Stephanie's legs and feel the hot stream of piss covering her fingers as it emerged from her friend's cunt. She wondered what it would taste like if she licked her fingers afterwards.

By the time Stephanie had finished urinating, Melissa was thoroughly turned on, and her breathing was beginning to rasp in her throat. Stephanie looked up at her with a knowing smile as if she could tell how aroused she was making Melissa, and held out her hand for her clothes.

"Clothes off. Now!" commanded Stephanie in a tone that clearly said she wasn't in the mood for any more evasion. She also left it clear that she expected Melissa to strip completely for her, despite the fact that she was able to simply step out of her panties at her feet. But by this point, Melissa didn't care. She was burning with frustrated lust now, and if her friend had wanted her to frig herself silly right in front of her, that would have been okay, too.

So just to be different, and since her panties were already down, she unzipped her skirt and pulled it down. She bent to gather both her skirt and panties from the floor at her feet, then had to wait for a moment while Stephanie, who had begun to shiver with the night's cold, finished pulling her own top back on. Stephanie laid her pants over her legs for warmth, but didn't try to put them back on, then accepted the proffered clothing from Melissa.

"Hey, Steph?" Melissa whispered hesitantly.

"What?" her friend answered softly.

"Why do you want me to take my panties off? I mean, I can see how going without a bra could give Brad a better look, you know. But what's it going to matter if I'm not wearing my panties. He's not going to be looking up my skirt! Is he?" she asked nervously.

"Hey, he might," responded Stephanie wickedly, "Especially if you use a bit of cleverness to arrange it so he could." Melissa's jaw dropped at her friend's suggestion, but Stephanie went on, "And besides, it's sexier to go without panties, especially if you're wearing a skirt. Leave's you open to the breezes, like."

Melissa giggled, "Really?"

"You've never tried going without underwear when you're wearing a skirt or a dress?"

"Not since I was little," shrugged Melissa, sheepish at being seen as sexually naïve again. "Mom always made such a big deal about always wearing clean underwear in case something happened to me, and I never thought about it."

"Sheesh! Another advantage of being raised by a dad. Well, honey, tonight's your big night, then. You're going to feel how sexy it is to walk around knowing that there's absolutely nothing between your pussy and the world. But enough talk. You still owe me a bra."

By this time, Melissa was growing chilly enough that she wasn't in any mood to stall any longer, and she hurriedly unbuttoned her blouse and handed it to Stephanie. Feeling an odd mixture of self-consciousness and lustful pride, she stood before her friend, naked except for her new purple bra. She could feel Stephanie's eyes sweeping over her ample young body, lingering on her crotch for a several long seconds. Melissa wondered what was going on in her friend's mind at that moment.

"C'mon," teased Stephanie, "One last thing and then we can go. The sooner you do it, the sooner you can start teasing Brad."

Melissa could feel the blush rise to her face, glad Stephanie couldn't see the effect her words were having in the darkness. She unhooked the clasp in the front and tugged off the brassiere, striking a pose with the bra dangling from an outstretched finger.

Stephanie snatched the bra up like it was a trophy, but whispered, "Thanks. Now get yourself together so we can get out of here."

Melissa retrieved her garments, and they both struggled to put their remaining clothing on, giggling when they bumped into each other in the close quarters.

"Jeez, I'm glad you decided to do this here. If we'd been doing this in the stall in the main bathroom, they'd have called us lezzies for sure," chuckled Melissa nervously. "How'd you know about this bathroom being unlocked?"

"That time I had to stay late working on that craft project last month, and then had to hang around till like eight o'clock `cause that was the earliest Dad could pick me up. You remember?" Melissa nodded.

"Well, I was poking around stuff, and I noticed that all the bathrooms were locked except this one. So I just figured that the lock was broken. It was worth a try, anyway." Stephanie had finished pulling on her pants and had stepped out of the stall to give the other girl some dressing room."

"So what would you have done if this had been locked after all?" asked Melissa, cocking an eye at her friend.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I would have just made you undress outside under the light. Or maybe I would have made you do it in the bathroom in the multi-purpose room anyway. Who cares what those silly bitches think anyway?" Stephanie demanded with some heat.

Melissa finished buttoning her blouse up again and tucking it into her skirt. As she was shrugging on her jacket, Stephanie halted her. "Wait just a minute. I guess it's okay if you wear the jacket until you get into the car next to Brad, but it comes off then, understand? And we definitely have to do something about those buttons."

Melissa had buttoned the blouse up just one button short of the top. Stephanie reached out and deliberately unbuttoned two buttons back down.

"Steph!" protested Melissa, "I can't go around like that!"

"Oh, stop whining. I already said you could wear your jacket `till we got in the car, so you won't be `going around' like that. But don't you think Brad deserves a little hellatious torment after what he did to you, making you almost come and then not finishing the job?"

"Okay, okay, I surrender," laughed Melissa, leaving her blouse half-buttoned as she fastened the jacket over it.

"You should practice saying that more often," said Stephanie with an odd light in her eyes. "You might have interesting experiences."

"Hmm. We'll see," was all Melissa would promise. They left the restroom together after first stuffing each other's underwear into their jacket pockets.

When they finally wended their way back to the parking lot, Stephanie spotted Brad waiting at the curb with a large group of students, who were in turn waiting for the even longer line of vehicles slowly edging up the drive to pick them up.

"That's good," Stephanie commented. "I was hoping Dad wouldn't be here yet. This way, we won't piss him off for making him wait, and you'll get to make sure you get in the back with Brad. You sit behind my dad, and remember, the jacket comes off the minute you get in."

"Don't worry, I won't forget," Melissa promised with a nervous grin.

Brad had finally seen them and hurried to meet them. "Where have you been? You've been gone for like twenty minutes!"

"I told you it would be a long time getting through the line for the bathroom," Melissa reminded him. "It's nice to see you, too."

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm glad to see you. Both of you. I mean..." he broke off with a helpless shrug, clearly at a loss for how to recover.

"Charming," said his sister, all innocence. "And did you have a nice time at the dance, Brad? You seemed to."

For once, Brad didn't rise to his sister's heckling. Instead, he looked straight at Melissa and said firmly, "I sure did. Best time I've ever had."

"Whoa! Look out, Melissa. He seems serious," commented Stephanie.

"Yeah, but that's kind of nice sometimes," Melissa countered, and, to emphasize her point, reached out and gave Brad's hand a gentle squeeze. To her pleased surprise, he squeezed back and didn't let go.

They stood there hand in hand until Stephanie called out, "There's Dad." She turned to her brother, "I'll sit up front since I'm sure you'd rather be in the back with Mel." She gave Melissa a significant glance.

Brad took her offer at face value and thanked his sister with genuine pleasure in his voice.

Mr. Muller reached the curb, and to her astonishment, Brad opened the rear door for Melissa. She thanked him and immediately scooted along the seat to the side behind her friends' father. Brad was about to hop in as well, when he was pulled up short by a loud throat-clearing from Stephanie. He shook his head in mock disgust, but he did pull the front door open for his sister as well.

"Thank you, Brad," cooed his sister in a syrupy voice, "Why, what a young gentleman you've become." Brad suppressed a growl and shut the front door with perhaps a bit more force than was strictly necessary before climbing into the back next to Melissa. Stephanie giggled from her place in the front.

Meanwhile, Melissa had used the opportunity to shed her coat, and was sitting there nervously as Brad got in, feeling very, very exposed. She glanced repeatedly at the driver's mirror to reassure herself that Stephanie's father couldn't see her from there.

As they pulled away, Mr. Muller asked them about the dance. Stephanie launched into a lengthy narrative clearly designed, at least to Melissa, to keep him occupied and his attention away from the back seat. Melissa gave a sidelong glance at the boy beside her and wondered how she was supposed to go about teasing him. Brad kept trying to sidle up close, and while Melissa would have ordinarily been delighted with that, she felt that what Stephanie had in mind was giving Brad peeks at her tits, not snuggling up close.

Finally, she settled on turning sideways in the seat to face him and tucking her leg up under herself. She immediately realized that this pose might give Brad an opportunity to look up her dress, and felt a secret thrill as she remembered that if he did, he'd be able to see her naked cunt. The thought made her smoldering arousal, which had been simmering on a low boil since she and Stephanie left the empty bathroom, blaze up again with full vigor. She felt the now-familiar oozing of pussy juices begin, and deliberately twisted in her seat slightly, managing to both hike her skirt a little further up her thighs and to point the opening even more directly at her young boyfriend.

Holy shit, she thought to herself, I actually want him to look! She glanced furtively at Stephanie in the front seat, who was still jabbering away about this girl's outfit and the way some guy had danced with her. But her friend was clearly watching her out of the corner of her eye, because she gave Melissa a surreptitious thumbs-up of approval at her moves thus far. Then she made a fleeting motion with her hands, miming pulling a blouse open, pausing just long enough to give Melissa a meaningful raise of the eyebrows before she returned her attention to her father.

She looked back at Brad and smiled. He smiled back, and tentatively laid his hand on her knee. Melissa made no move to remove it. Instead, she stretched her arms lazily over her head while giving Brad an even bigger smile. Brad sucked in his breath instantly, and Melissa knew that she must have scored big with that move. She didn't dare look down to see just how much of her breasts she had flashed for him, but assumed it must be plenty.

Brad's hand began to inch very gradually up her thigh. Melissa smiled to herself, both at his boldness and at the clear evidence that her teasing was having the desired effect. She slowly lowered her arms from her feigned stretch and deliberately made no move to smooth or tug her blouse back into place. Let it end up where it will, she figured. If it gives Brad a show, so be it. If not, she could adjust it subtly later.

Brad seemed to be trying to act nonchalant, pretending to listen to his sister's continuing patter, all the while edging his hand further and further up Melissa's soft, white thigh towards the hem of her skirt. Though neither of them ever looked at the wayward hand, Melissa knew that they were both quite aware of what he was doing. She wasn't concerned. Brad could hardly do anything she didn't want him to there in the car with his father and sister only a couple of feet away, and besides, she reasoned, she could always hold his hand to prevent any further advance with perfect innocence. In the meantime, she was interested in just how far he would go. She wasn't altogether sure how far she would go for that matter, but at the moment his hand felt very nice on her leg and she savored the feeling.

As the car rounded a corner, Melissa used the opportunity to `accidentally' slide a bit in her seat towards Brad, managing to hike her skirt a few inches further up in the process. There, she thought with some satisfaction, that'll give him some more unobstructed territory to conquer. She heard Brad's breathing change subtly, and there was just the faintest hint of trembling in his hand, which had paused in its advance for a moment. Melissa wondered what might account for the change and tried to subtly glance down at herself.

What she saw nearly made her completely lose her nerve. Only the fact that for her to suddenly sit up and pull her clothing back in place would have called even more attention to her flagrant display prevented her from doing so. Her maneuver with the skirt had been so successful that there were barely three inches of hemline remaining below her now-very-moist pre-teen cunt. Brad's hand was less than six inches from actually touching it! It was even possible that he could see it, or at least see enough to realize that she was no longer wearing panties.

But it was above the waist that Melissa discovered her teasing designs had been most successful, for her blouse had pulled up enough from her stretch that, when she lowered her arms again it left a large fold that provided a perfect opening for Brad to be able to see nearly all of her left breast. Even the chocolate colored aureole was clearly visible – only the tip of the nipple itself remained hidden, guarding the last shred of her modesty.

She felt a hot blush instantly rise to her cheeks, and she sat paralyzed with indecision. She didn't dare look at Brad, so she turned her eyes to her friend in the front seat instead. She saw Stephanie looking at her in frank amazement, her mouth wide open. It was that which finally gave Melissa courage – to finally have done something so outrageous that she could surprise her friend with her daring. For once she was the one who was bold and Stephanie was the one to be shocked.

She gave Stephanie a secret smile, and was rewarded by seeing her expression change to admiration – and frank titillation. To signal her feelings, Stephanie, after a quick glance at her father beside her, stroked her own nipple a couple of times so that Melissa could see it harden visibly through the thin material of her top. Then she glanced meaningfully at her brother's hand nestled practically in Melissa's crotch and waggled her eyebrows.

Melissa smiled broadly now at her friend, feeling a rush of erotic excitement and pride at being able to fulfill her `punishment' so completely. She turned, confident now, to Stephanie's brother who seemed scarcely able to breathe but was looking at her intently as if he couldn't believe his good fortune. She changed her broad smile into a teasing one for Brad.

Attempting to make it appear natural, she gave her blouse a bit of a tug that closed up most of the gap, and she was amused to see the crestfallen expression immediately appeared on Brad's face. However, he seemed to quickly grasp that she hadn't adjusted her skirt, and he began to slowly creep his way further towards her skirt.

Melissa was so turned on by this time that she wasn't at all sure what she would have done if the ride had been longer. The thought of feeling his fingers caressing her soft, dripping cunt folds made her nearly faint with desire, and she wasn't at all sure that even the presence of the boy's father would have made her back off at the last minute.

But she was spared the agony of that decision, because just as Brad's fingers reached the edge of her skirt and had begun to slide under the edge, the car pulled up into Stephanie's driveway. Melissa reached down and gently but firmly held Brad's hand.

She looked at him, and he had such an expression of regret that she nearly laughed out loud. Instead, she leaned over towards him, taking care to lean far enough to ensure he got a brief but nearly complete view of her succulent tits, and whispered, "You are a very naughty boy, Brad Muller."

He gave a sheepish laugh, but he clearly was more proud than embarrassed. He scrambled out of the car and gallantly held the door for her once again. Melissa would have been more impressed if she didn't think the real reason he did so was for the chance to get another glimpse down the open front of her blouse as she emerged, but she didn't really mind. In fact, she tried her best to give him a complete show, allowing him a quick flash up her skirt as she swung her legs out. The look on his face was priceless – she could easily see an entire dialogue take place within his head as he tried to grasp whether or not he'd really seen what he thought he saw.

She bent low, very low, as she emerged from the automobile, and was pleased to see that she managed to offer Stephanie's brother yet another quick glimpse of Paradise. As she straightened and pulled on her jacket, she saw Stephanie watching her with undisguised admiration – and lust. Melissa had obviously passed the test, and she happily followed her friend and Brad into the house, Mr. Muller having told her that he would bring her bag and pillow in momentarily.

They all piled into the kitchen, the normal gathering place in the Muller home, and Mr. Muller joined them shortly after having carried Melissa's things upstairs to Stephanie's room. They sat around the table, discussing the dance while Mr. Muller puttered around, fixing something at the kitchen counter. Melissa still had her jacket on, which made her a bit less self-conscious about her clothing underneath, especially around Stephanie's father. Stephanie had said she was supposed to keep teasing Brad until she revealed her secret about her own brother, but that couldn't mean that she was supposed to do it while her father watched. Could it?

Apparently it could, because Stephanie leaned over to Melissa at the table and said sweetly, "Why don't you take your coat off and stay awhile? Brad, why don't you take her jacket for her, since you've been being such a gentleman tonight."

The barb was unnecessary, though the additional coloring in Brad's cheeks told the girls that he understood perfectly well that he had been less than gentlemanly a few times that evening. However, he was more than happy to help her out of her coat and take it down to the hall closet. Clearly, he had enjoyed seeing her without the jacket and was looking forward to seeing some more.

By the time he returned and sat down at the kitchen table at Melissa's left, Mr. Muller had finished his mysterious preparations and announced, "Since my kids – and their friend," he added with a nod to Melissa, a slight widening of his eyes offering the only clue that he found anything different about her appearance, "are so grown up now, having been to a real dance, I thought it might be appropriate to celebrate with something special and, well, a bit grown-up."

He brought over four steaming mugs, two at a time, and set them in front of each of the young people. He set the last one at his place across the table from Melissa. The three looked curiously at the mugs from which an interesting aroma was wafting. It smelled somewhat like coffee, but was covered with whipped cream, and there were some other scents they couldn't place.

"It's called Irish coffee," he explained, "And I'm not sure if you'll like it, but it seemed like a fitting end to the night. Now Melissa," he said to her in a serious tone, "this does have some alcohol in it." The three young people at the table looked at each other with surprise. Brad looked eager; Stephanie's reaction was more subdued, but there was a gleam in her eye.

"I know I should have asked your mother first before offering it to you," Mr. Muller continued to Melissa, "But I thought you were mature enough to refuse it if you think you should, and I'll respect your decision. It doesn't have much liquor," he hastened to add, "and the hot coffee boils off even more. And I'm not offering anyone more than one," he gave his son a pointed look, "but I thought it was only right to warn you."

Melissa was both stunned and flattered. She was pretty sure that her mother would not approve, but she really wanted to try it. Finally she said, "Well, I'd like to try a sip, just to see if I like it. I'm pretty sure my mom would trust my judgment, but maybe it'd be better if she didn't know – at least right away." That sounded lame, she thought to herself.

However, Mr. Muller only nodded, so she figured the explanation satisfied him. He lifted up his mug, and motioned for his children and Melissa to do the same. With a slight twinkle in his eye, he raised his mug even higher and said, "To first dances, and to growing up."

The youngsters were unsure of what to do, but Stephanie's father explained the proper etiquette for a toast, and they soon dutifully raised their own mugs and repeated the words of his toast. Then he sipped his drink, and indicated that they were to do the same, cautioning them that the drink was hot under the whipped topping.

Melissa raised hers to her lips and sipped carefully. She found she could definitely taste the liquor, a sensation both bitter and oddly warm on her tongue, but the taste was bearable thanks to the added sugar and whipped cream. Besides, she thought suddenly to herself, this isn't the strangest thing I've tasted today.

The memory of her incestuous incident with Keith that afternoon brought all the arousal she had momentarily forgotten surging back. She couldn't believe how many new things were happening to her, and so fast this day. If someone had told her that morning that by this evening she would have: watched her own brother masturbating, let him come all over her, licked the come from the end of his prick, nearly come herself while publicly dancing with her best friend's brother, stripped completely naked and given up her underwear to Stephanie in a school restroom, let Brad Muller see nearly all of her breasts and just about put his hand up under her skirt, and would end by sipping a drink – a real drink – she would have thought they were out of their minds.

She sipped some more of the warm brew, and found that it wasn't as bad as she thought at first. She looked first at Stephanie and then at Brad, raising her eyebrows as if to say, `how about that?'

Brad wanted to know what was in it, and so Melissa learned that the liquor was Irish whiskey. Brad kept asking questions of his father, but she soon realized it was a pretext to keep him from noticing that his son had once again placed his hand on Melissa's thigh. Concealed by the table, he was working it gradually up her leg again, making Melissa giggle.

Brad's father looked at her questioningly, and Melissa quickly said, "I guess I'm feeling the drink."

Mr. Muller smiled indulgently, and then Brad piped up, "I'm definitely feeling something, too," causing Melissa to burst out laughing. Brad laughed at his own joke, too, and soon all four of them were laughing, Stephanie and her father laughing at Brad and Melissa.

They continued to sip their drinks, laughing and talking with more and more animation. While her father seemed oblivious to his son's secret groping of their guest, Stephanie kept giving her brother suspicious glances from time to time.

Melissa noticed that somehow she had finished her drink. She didn't feel like what she imagined drunkenness would feel like, but she definitely felt a warm, happy glow. It just somehow felt especially nice and right to be sitting there with her best friend's family, and even Brad's hand softly stroking the inside of her thigh felt especially nice and right. She found herself laughing at the silliest things, and she completely forgot about her previous nervousness about her blouse or how much she was revealing.

At least she forgot about her blouse until she excused herself to go to the bathroom. But as she was washing her hands at the sink after using the toilet, she got a good look at herself in the mirror. She was aghast when she realized that the thin creamy material of her blouse concealed almost nothing – the dark aureoles of her breasts were clearly visible, and the nipples protruded proudly, making sharp little bumps obvious in the cloth. Was that what she had been going around looking like?

It was several minutes before she convinced herself to return to the kitchen – only the relaxation induced by the unfamiliar liquor gave her the courage. She tried to sidle back into the room unobtrusively, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she ever had.

But Mr. Muller didn't seem to really notice her anyway – for some reason, he kept looking intently at his daughter, and she seemed to be just as focused back on him. She turned back to Brad, and could see in his eyes that he, at least, was definitely noticing her blouse. But it didn't seem to bother her as much as it had before. In fact, it just made her feel sexy and, she realized, desired. She decided she liked the feeling of being desired a great deal.

She was drifting in a happy haze, noticing dimly that Brad had laid his head down on the table and was looking at her sideways. He looks silly that way, she thought, silly but kind of sweet. Suddenly she realized that Brad's position was deliberate – it allowed him to stretch his arm under the table a great deal further. His hand was actually under her dress!

This had gone a bit farther than she thought wise, even though part of her ached to feel him actually touch her throbbing, virgin pussy. She scooted her chair back slightly. Brad looked at her warily, but she gave him a quick smile to show him she wasn't really offended.

Stephanie hadn't missed the interchange, though. "Is my brother molesting you under the table?" she asked in her sweetest voice.

"Huh?" said her father, belatedly realizing that something was happening. He jumped to his own conclusion and chided his daughter, "Oh, leave them alone. They're probably just holding hands."

All three of them looked at him in surprise.

"Well, they were holding hands when I drove up," he said mildly. Brad and Melissa looked quickly at each other. They hadn't thought they were noticed.

"Not that I mind," he added reassuringly to the couple, "I think it's cute that you decided you like each other. You could do a lot worse," he said with a wry grin to his son. Melissa flashed him a grateful smile.

"And don't you start teasing him about it, the way you do sometimes," he said, turning to Stephanie. "Just remember that you may find a boy you like sometime soon, and you wouldn't appreciate Brad ragging on you about it, would you?"

"Don't worry, Dad," Stephanie assured him. "I wanted them to get together as soon as I found out she liked him."

"You did? You liked me?" Brad asked Melissa with a pleased expression.

"Yeah, silly. Couldn't you tell?" Melissa demanded, shaking her head at the density of boys.

"I could tonight," he said with a grin.

"I'll say!" blurted Stephanie. "When old lady Gunderson had to separate you two, that should have been a clue."

Brad looked at her with a stricken expression, and his sister gave him an apologetic look. But the cat was out of the bag. Mr. Muller looked at his son for an explanation.

"Well, uh, you see," Brad fumbled for an explanation that would sound plausible without going into details.

Melissa took pity on him and jumped in. "It was the last dance," she explained to the older man, hoping she was sounding more confident than she felt, "And we'd been dancing together half the night. And, well, you know, we'd hit it off, and it's true, I did admit to Stephanie this afternoon that I already liked him."

Mr. Muller just looked at her with an amused expression, so she plunged on, "And like I said, it was the last dance, and I guess we were dancing too close, `cause Mrs. Gunderson came up behind us and chewed us out. That was all," she shrugged, hoping fervently that Stephanie wouldn't blab any more details.

Mr. Muller was shaking his head slowly. "For the love of Mike," he finally muttered, "I can't believe they're still doing that at school dances. When I was your age, the dance chaperone would walk around with a ruler to make sure no one danced any closer than six inches."

The young people burst out laughing at the image. "It's true!" protested Mr. Muller.

He was silent for a moment, and then said decisively, "Well that's no way to have to end a dance. C'mon, everyone – into the living room. We'll have our own last dance, and I promise you, no one will come and separate you."

His children looked at each other uncertainly. "Come on, now," commanded their father, "I mean everyone." With a grand gesture, he turned to his daughter, "May I have the honor of dancing with you?"

Stephanie looked intently at him before softly agreeing. So they trooped into the front room. Mr. Muller didn't turn on any lights, though the light filtering down the hall from the kitchen gave a dim, warm glow to the room. After fiddling with his stereo for a minute, Mr. Muller finally exclaimed with satisfaction and turned up the music he'd chosen.

It was a slow, jazzy number, very different from anything they'd heard at the school dance, but it seemed somehow more appropriate now – much more grown-up. Brad grinned at Melissa and held out his hand. She took it and they melted into each other's arms. Brad guided them to the opposite corner of the room from where his father and sister were dancing, and softly spun her around so that his back was towards the other couple.

This time, dancing with Brad was a very different sensation. She was feeling very warm and happy from her first alcoholic drink, and very, very horny. Without her underwear, she could feel every place where Brad's body touched hers with exquisite sensitivity. As soon as they had begun to dance, they had both slid into the position that had offended Mrs. Gunderson so much, with their arms tightly around each other and their legs intertwined. Brad wasted no time thrusting himself against her thigh, and she could feel his rapidly swelling erection growing through his pants and her skirt.

She moaned softly and laid her cheek against his head, whispering in his ear, "Such a bad, bad boy." She matched him thrust for thrust, grinding her swollen, aching clit against his muscular thigh.

Brad groaned with pleasure and began softly kissing her neck where his face was nestled. Melissa thought she was going to pass out on the spot from erotic delirium. He whispered back, "And are you my bad, bad girl?"

"Oh, yes I am," she moaned between gasps of pleasure as she bore down hard against his urgently moving leg, "And you make this bad girl feel so good!"

Brad began to let his hands travel all over her back, and then started kissing down the opening where her blouse was unbuttoned. In no time, he was nuzzling his cheek against the side of her breasts. For a moment, Melissa feared that he was actually going to try to push his face inside her blouse, but she was spared having to deal with how she felt about that, because Brad quickly noticed that having to bend so low had forced his lower body away from hers. Apparently deciding that he liked the sensation of her leg on his cock even more than her tits on his face, he straightened back up and resumed his slow, methodical pumping against her.

She sighed with delight as his leg once again pushed into her crotch, and she happily started grinding her young pussy against him again. Just as at the school dance, she could feel the first stirrings of a climax beginning to grow inside her.

She glanced over at Stephanie and her father, but his back was to her and all she could see of her friend was the young girl's arms clinging around the tall man's neck. They were swaying gently to the music, and Melissa was about to turn away to focus once again on her partner when something made her stop.

She noticed that Mr. Muller's arms were moving, as if he was caressing up and down the length of his daughter's body. Yes, as she watched, his hand definitely slid low enough that he could only be fondling her ass. And she didn't seem to be objecting.

Melissa watched, fascinated. The sight of her best friend being incestuously groped by her own father might have disturbed her considerably just a few hours before. Now, with the combination of the liquor, the memory of her own incestuous activity that very afternoon, and her own raging arousal, she thought it was one of the most erotic sights she had ever seen.

She began to pant, moaning more and more loudly each time her young boyfriend thrust their bodies together. Brad, seemingly taking a cue from his father despite the fact that his back was turned, began to unabashedly caress her bottom as well.

"Oh, God, yes," she could only whisper huskily into Brad's ear.

He needed no more encouragement. He reached both his hands down below the edge of her skirt at the back of her thighs and slid them up underneath, pulling up the skirt behind her. As his hands reached her now completely exposed ass cheeks, he pulled her in firmly.

Melissa gasped and shuddered. His hands on her naked bottom felt like they were burning into her flesh, but with erotic fire, not pain.

"You're not wearing any panties," murmured Brad in awed amazement.

"It was your sister's idea," she said, between quickly increasing breaths.

"Really?" he asked in wonder.

"Yeah. Ohhhh. Oh, God! That feels so good," she gasped as he began to work his fingers into the crack of her ass. She thrust against him with abandon now. "She – ohhh - said – ungghhh – that I – oh, holy shit – that I – aaarrrgghh – should try – oh yes, do that, do that!" she urged as his fingers wormed their way all the way into the depths of her crevice and made contact with her tightly puckered asshole.

She was sliding up and down on Brad's leg now like she was riding a rodeo bull, but Brad gamely kept his grip on her butt, his hands completely buried in the crack. He pushed experimentally with a finger against her hole, and it was all Melissa could do to keep from screaming out loud.

"You should try to what?" he demanded.

Melissa was very nearly at the point of no return from the rising orgasmic wave beginning to build within her, so she was definitely in no position to answer. Desperately, she glanced at Stephanie's father, but his back was still to her, and they were at the complete opposite end of the room. Mr. Muller didn't seem to be aware of anything but his own lewd business with his daughter. Melissa almost thought she heard a groan of pleasure escape from Stephanie.

She couldn't believe what was happening here in her best friend's living room. A rush of pure lascivious ecstasy began to roar through her.

Then Brad actually pushed his finger into her butt hole, and the sudden violation was too much for the desperately aroused twelve-year old girl.

With a cry that she barely muffled in time by burying her face in Brad's neck, she gave herself completely over to her climax, shuddering as each new orgasmic surge wracked her body. Brad still clung to her with his hands wedged in her ass crack, the single finger still buried deep within her forbidden hole. She sobbed deeply, gasping to try to catch her breath.

The music faded just as the last waves of her climax left her. Brad quietly pulled his finger out from her asshole and slid his hands back out from under her skirt.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, his voice full of concern. "What happened? One minute I thought you were enjoying yourself and the next, you were – I don't know!"

She laughed weakly, her knees still too wobbly to risk standing without holding on to him. "I'm fine. Just fine. And thank you."

"For what?" he wanted to know.

Melissa giggled. Clearly he had no clue what he had just done to her. Heck, he probably thought he should be thanking her for letting him cop the most outrageous feel of his young life. Well, she wasn't ready to tell him just yet. Let him stew awhile.

"Maybe I'll tell you sometime," she whispered, her green eyes full of secret mystery.

He gulped, confused, but he persisted, "Well what was it my sister said you were supposed to try to do? You were trying to tell me when you went all crazy."

Melissa laughed. She couldn't help it. The irony was too delicious. "She told me I should try to tease you," she whispered as she finally felt herself ready to stand on her own.

"Well, it worked," Brad said, a little pitifully. Melissa looked at him sharply, and then realized she could still feel his raging hard-on pressed up against her leg.

"Well, I'm sure you know how to take care of that later," she said meaningfully.

Brad gulped and quickly shut up. It seemed like he might be as embarrassed about his own masturbation as her brother was. Melissa smiled at him and stepped away from her young man. Searching out Stephanie and her father, she found them still clinging to each other across the room.

"Hey," Brad called, "The music's over."

Stephanie's arms snaked down from around her father's neck, but it was a moment before they both turned around. Melissa immediately noticed that her friend's clothing was completely disheveled, and it made her smooth her own clothing self-consciously. Apparently both the Muller men had been rather busy during the dance.

Mr. Muller had an expression on his face that could only be described as dreamy. "Now wasn't that a much better last dance?" he asked them.

Brad and Melissa readily agreed. Stephanie glanced intently at her father and nodded with an enigmatic smile.