I finger a dancer under her plastic hot pants at the cast party. [FM]

Every Spring the local college in my town would have a dance showcase where students in the dance classes could show off their skills in choreography, music editing and of course dance itself.

Being one of the nerdy kids who could actually talk and usually not make people too uncomfortable, I was at the top of the list of folks they asked for tech help. For several years in a row, I was in charge of running the tech for the show – music, lighting, even occasional disembodied announcements from the control booth. In the weeks leading up to the show, I worked with each of the choreographers to dial in exactly how we would present their piece once the actual shows began.

Most of the dancers were from a totally different social milieu than me. I wouldn’t say the dancers were a popular or revered crowd – in fact, they tended to be introverted and kind of reserved (but super fit!) girls, along with the few queer guys who were out in my town at the time.

There were a few who transcended these divisions. Usually that meant someone with a kind of effortless ability to connect with anyone and everyone – loud and brash with one crowd, sensitive and playful with another, full-bore nerdy with another. Pearl definitely transcended multiple groups, but her approach was a little different. She wasn’t cool exactly. She had an odd ability to just kind of be herself wherever she went, and to be unphased and not really give a fuck. People liked her, but she wasn’t really buddies with anyone. I guess it’s easy to respect someone like that but a bit hard to connect with them.

Pearl’s family was deeply rooted in the town, and so I had been aware of her since my family moved to town eight years prior. Pearl and I had been making eyes at each other during rehearsals in the weeks leading up to the show.

It certainly helped that I got to watch her shaking her ass, doing the splits, twerking onto the stage, all in these impossibly little black plastic hot pants with the rest of her dance crew. If you’ve never heard of the cheerleader effect, look it up. That might have been at play here, the hotness compounding with not one, not two, not five, but a full eight girls up on stage writhing together in these skin-tight plastic shorts. But Pearl was really the only one that I saw.

I have a thing for tiny women, and Pearl was perfect in this respect. She’d be lucky to pass 5 feet in heels, and aside from a surprisingly curvy ass, she was tiny top to bottom. This fact made another of the moves in her troupe’s sequence a bit confusing and funny – the move where they would lean forward and kind of squeeze their cleavage together, rocking their shoulders up and down while looking straight ahead into the audience.

Pearl didn’t have much in the way of cleavage to squeeze together, but I swear every time she did this move, the rest of the audience disappeared for her and she stared a horny dagger straight into me up in the control booth. I responded in kind, holding her gaze as my cock turned into a rod of iron in my pants. Unfortunately for Pearl, she’d never get to feel that cock except through my swimsuit – but that’s for another story.

On the night of the final show, there was some time dedicated to thank-yous and gratitude after the show. The producer called up an interminable sequence of people, including me at one point.

All the dance troupes were on the stage behind the producer, so as I left my post at the control booth to climb up onto the stage, I passed right by Pearl. We shared a confusing but horny smirk and briefly touched our fingers together.

I’m normally someone behind the scenes at these kinds of things, so being called up to the front of the stage pretty much resulted in complete dissociation and I have no idea what happened for the next couple minutes. Presumably a brief thank-you from the producer, and a bow or head nod or something before I high-tailed it off stage.

But eventually things are mellow and the crew is beginning to break everything down.

The dancers and tech crew, friends and boyfriends are milling around congratulating and thanking each other. We start planning how to get out to the after party. A mutual friend of both me and Pearl will be driving and is angling to get us in the car because he’s got his eye on another friend of Pearl’s who is surely more likely to come if Pearl is in the car.

Ride secured, we head out and begin the trek to the community center in a nearby neighborhood where a bunch of classmates had grown up. This place was great because it was separate from everyone’s house – it had a kitchen, rec rooms, a pool, and a hot tub. All through the various stages of school it had been a space for us to spend time as we slowly asserted our growing independence. Now all grown up (hah), we had the place to ourselves for the night to celebrate a successful dance show.

We still knew this wasn’t a place for drinking so everything was sober. There was a movie in the rec room, probably Fight Club if I remember what we all cared about at the time. Welcome to the early 2000s. There was food and music in the kitchen. You can guess what we were listening to – ska, nu metal, you get the drift. Early 2000s baby. Nobody was using the pool because it was pretty cold outside.

As we arrived, we right headed to the kitchen and helped put out some of the food. The stress of the dance show meant I hadn’t eaten much since lunch, and it was almost 9pm. So yeah, food was the first order. I tried to make small talk with Pearl about her dancing and her troupe and her sister and her horses. But it was hard because, well…she still had her costume on and that was just shutting down my ability to do anything useful with my brain. And my friend was there acting a total fool while he tried to impress Pearl’s friend. What an awkward mess. Eventually my fool friend suggests heading out to the hot tub, clearly hoping Pearl’s friend would tag along. No such luck – but Pearl and I were definitely game! My friend and I had board shorts ready to go, but Pearl figured her costume shorts were plastic anyway, can’t hurt to get in the water with them.

I’m weirded out at this point – weeks of horniness about Pearl, excitement through the roof that we’re about to get in the hot tub together, but now what the hell am I supposed to do about my awkward friend who is clearly disappointed that his intended lady friend won’t be joining us, but is trying to play it cool by pretending to still be interested in being in the hot tub. This is a big hot tub – probably made for ten-plus people, so there’s plenty of space in it with just the three of us.

Pearl and I make our way close to each other and are keeping things mellow, There’s an obvious but unacknowledged energy between us – we’re not touching, just sitting quietly a couple inches apart. Meanwhile my friend is just projecting frantic energy – talking about his car and how much Pearl’s friend is missing out on the great time in the hot tub and how this hot tub is great but the one at his house is nicer because it has molded seats.

I don’t know how, but Pearl and I both seem to have made peace with this sexual energy buzzing between us and it’s clear that we can wait out my friend to really start playing with it. Maybe five minutes later, we’re proven right and he heads off to get more soda.

Left alone, Pearl and I get to figure out how we’re going to indulge this horny energy flowing between us that has been growing over the weeks of conspicuous eye contact from the stage and furtive smiles as we passed each other. Here was Pearl, alone with me in a hot tub, in the insanely sexed-up costume I had been seeing her troupe flaunt for weeks.

I turned to face her and it resulted in a bit more distance between us: “I had fun watching you dance tonight. You’re really good.”

Pearl offered a “Thanks” and then she looked around the patio and said “Thank God we’re finally alone” as she began to slowly close the space between us.

I swear to God, this is real. I know it sounds like soft core porn – the hot blonde girl in a crisp white shirt with two lone buttons done up near her navel, shamelessly coming on to me in a hot tub. But what can I say, sometimes life imitates porn. Or something. Honestly, the shirt wasn’t so crisp and we were both a bit sweaty from the heat. But oh god, those shiny black hot pants. So tight I felt like I already knew exactly what was beneath, and it was hard to think about anything else.

As Pearl moved closer to me, I clued in and guided her legs around my waist and then gently used her shoulder blades to pull her all the way in so I could reach her lips.

Sounds gentle and romantic, right? It was, for maybe 25 seconds. Then the floodgates opened from the pent-up sexual energy the two of us had been building between each other with our eyes for the last three weeks. I moved my hand from her back, grabbed a fistful of her curly hair and held her head in place while I explored her lips, the corners of her mouth, her teeth and tongue. My other hand reached for her hip, pushing her down from my waist to my lap. This made everything better – she was now grinding on my cock, and her face was slightly below mine rather than me craning my neck up to where she had been before.

It’s maybe worth a pause here to note that at this point in my life, I had kissed exactly one person before and probably less than a dozen times in total. I was in a tenuous place with my sexuality where most of the time the scales tipped more toward being afraid of sex than able to go after it.

But in this moment, with Pearl grinding on me, her body firmly in my control with my hands on her hip and hair, the growing sexual energy we were creating in the moment mixed with the absolute overflow of tension from the last weeks and resulted in me feeling confidently dominant and ready to move things quickly.

I wasn’t interested in making out in the hot tub. I wasn’t interested in playing with her tits under her shirt. I wanted to get under those hot pants.

So I reached down her belly, pulled up the white fabric of the shirt, and started working my fingers down the front of those shiny hot pants that had been teasing her pussy at me since I joined this whole production. Honestly, it wasn’t that easy – wet, distracted, horny, never touched a pussy before, and I have to try and figure out how to get my hand inside this second skin clinging to her sex.

Thinking back on the moment – it’s funny because it was clearly awkward fumbling to get into her shorts, but it also didn’t matter in the slightest because we were both enraptured in our horniness for each other. I felt the smoothness of Pearl’s tummy give way to the folds of her cunt as I began to explore this new world for the first time. I’d love to say she was drenched, and I’m sure she was gushing – in the years since, I’ve learned what a pussy does in a situation where that much sexual tension is finally being released. But also, we were in a hot tub – so of course her pussy was wet. And at the time I sure didn’t have the ability to feel the difference between a girl’s wet sex and a pussy that’s submerged in water.

To assist my access, we moved her legs from around my torso so she was sitting on my lap sideways. The desperate making out continued, of course – and Pearl managed to get her hands down onto the front of my board shorts a few times. That would have been great, but I was determined to get my fingers inside her cunt. And so I did – spreading her legs, now without my dumb torso in the way, and this time pulling the waist band out and away from her stomach so I could slide a lot more of my hand in place directly over her crotch. This finally gave me the access I was looking for – able to move my fingers around, still hugged tight against her by the stretchy shorts. I could finally explore her folds, feeling the lips as they surrounded her hole, sliding up toward the top searching for her clit, just kind of blindly trying to improvise some touch from a combination of what felt good when I masturbated myself with what I understood of her anatomy and of course what I had seen inn porn. I also yearned, absolutely needed to just get even the tip of my finger up inside Pearl’s pussy while we made out alone in this hot tub. So I did. And it was good. Not great, but good. First times are about enthralling, and this experience was definitively enthralling. The future is for great experiences.

After some time kind of stuck in this loop of desperate making out and hand-down-her-shorts groping – probably more than ten minutes, definitely less than half an hour – I think we both understood that it was a fun step but it wasn’t going any further tonight. So we kind of slowed down, pulled back and finally were able to just smile at one another – a giddy smile, devoid of that long-stewing sexual tension, but somehow knowing of what was to come for us. (In parts 2, 3 and 4.)

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/xq72yo/i_finger_a_dancer_under_her_plastic_hot_pants_at