5 comments/ 27713 views/ 13 favorites Rainbow Party By: HuckPilgrim At the turn of the century, a moral panic sweeps the country. A popular daytime talk show explores a new youth phenomena called rainbow parties. Adolescent girls go to parties where they apply various shades of lipstick, then suck the cocks of young boys, producing "rainbows" for their efforts. Mothers are outraged. Across the land, our little girls are falling. Sweet, innocent girls. Virgin girls. We marshal social workers, health care professionals, but nothing ever comes of it. Rainbow parties become the stuff of urban legends. Oprah goes into reruns. Meanwhile, in the small town of Carnal, things remain much the same as they always have. Thursday morning, second period, Biology: Carly Peterson gets an invitation to a party. She tucks her long blonde hair behind her ear. Bites her lip. It's something called a rainbow party. She fidgets her slim hips in her seat. She has no idea what it is, but more than anything she wants to fit in. She's the new girl. It's her senior year. The party is this Friday, after school, in a nearby town called Carnal. How can she say no? Carly goes. She gets her brother to drive her into Carnal, then drop her at the elementary school on Fourth and Walnut. Her brother is nineteen, only a year older than her, but she tells him she's going to do some studying with friends. It's a lie, but it's a fiction that will prove prophetic. After all, Carly's a virgin, attending a sex party. Her very first. If she would have known, she might have dressed differently. She is wearing her khaki denim shorts, the ones with the cute little cuffs, a lime-green sleeveless t-shirt, and armfuls of jelly band bracelets. She will remember this day for the rest of her life. A girl always remembers her first rainbow party. Carly wanders the few blocks searching over doors for street addresses to find the right home. An old woman sits on a porch smoking a cigarette, watching as Carly walks past. The red brick sidewalks are uneven, humped and broken from age and the roots of ancient maples. The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky. The homes are narrow and tall, stacked up against one another, as if jockeying for space. She finds 369 Pine. Knocks on the screen door. Carly doesn't know the name of the boy who lets her in, but he's attractive. Older. He has whiskers, a lanky muscular body, and a piece of jewelry in his nose. He grins at her, and she's suddenly overcome with shyness and can't think of a single thing to say. The house is crowded. The downstairs is two great rooms with over a dozen people milling about, talking. Drinking from big red plastic cups. Lounging on couches. Her girlfriend Sam finds her, and Carly realizes her clothes are all wrong. Sam is eighteen, but what she's wearing makes her look older. Her hips and knees peek from great rips in her low slung jeans. A halter top stretches tight across her flat, boyish chest. Somehow, instead of calling attention to her lack of breasts, this top and those jeans accentuates her sexy midriff, the curves at her waist and hips. Carly is overcome with doubt. She wants to leave. Sam says Carly looks fabulous. Taking Carly's wrist in her hands, Sam strokes her forearm. "I love these things," Sam says, fingering a host of the jelly band bracelets. Sam takes half a dozen and tugs them past Carly's wrist. "Can I wear some?" Sam asks. Her short hair is spiked up, her smile infectious. She moves closer to Carly. As the bracelets come off, Carly's hand brushes against Sam's hip. Carly looks at her friend's thick belt buckle, the dimple of her navel, the way the small knob of her pelvic bone rides above the waist of her jeans. After Sam puts the bracelets on, she takes a small silver chain from around her neck, then puts the chain on Carly. Carly can smell shampoo in her friend's hair. Turns out there are exactly seven girls—a girl for each color in the rainbow. Sam applies bright yellow lipstick and then smacks her lips and grins. She tells Carly the lipstick is called, New Yolk City, and you can only get it mail order from the UK. There is way too much on her lips, but Sam says that's what she wants. Each girl will apply a different color lipstick, and then they'll all team up on a single boy, smearing color on his cock. When Sam says "cock," Carly's heart skips a beat. Her pulse races, and she feels the back of her neck get wet, but she tries to play it cool. The colors are applied to create a rainbow effect: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Carly gets violet, which Sam says is the easiest color. Carly wants to run. She wants to hide. She thinks about her parents, her brother. What if they find out? Carly looks at Sam with wide open eyes. Applying the violet to Carly's lips, Sam says not to worry. She says it's all top secret. She's using that distracted voice girls get when they apply makeup. She says the group has been around forever and this seems true. Most of the boys seem to have dibs on certain girls. In fact, most of the boys aren't really boys at all, but young men. One of these young men—lean, muscular, heavily tattooed—seems smitten with Carly. He keeps stealing glances at her as Sam works on her face. Carly decides to stay. One of the guys pulls down his pants and sits on the couch, his erection swaying in his lap. Carly has never seen a real cock before and she blushes. All fourteen of them mill around the boy on the couch. There are different challenges to the game that weren't clear to Carly at first. For example, whoever wears the red lipstick has to deep throat the boy to get the red far enough down his shaft. A tall blonde with a long neck buries the cock in her throat. She's wearing a slinky red dress. The others hoot and holler. When the girl comes up, her lipstick is smeared and the boy's cock is glowing red. He's the same boy who answered the door. He gently moves his hips, making his red cock wag in the air. Girls approach, kneel. Apply more colors. They make it to green before the boy loses it and comes in a buxom black girl's mouth. She chokes a bit, but swallows. All the girls cheer. Girls are up one to nothing. The other boys razz the kid who came at green. He looks shame-faced at the floor. Another boy lowers his fly and pulls out his erection. A buxom black girl lobbies the girl with the red lipstick to swap colors. The boy stands with his stiff cock out while the girls fix their lipstick. When the big black girl tries to get her mouth far enough down the boy's penis, she struggles. Chokes. The other boys insist she try again and again, invoking some rule of the game that's not clear to Carly. Soon the black girl prevails. Five more colors are added and now it is time for Carly. She worries the boy will shoot in her mouth. If she has to swallow, she worries she'll spit it up. The other girls encourage her to hurry. Go, honey! Go! She squats down and takes the warm dick inside her mouth. She tries to hold his penis in her hand, but everyone—boys and girls—balk loudly at this and she quickly withdraws her hand. She twists her head, smearing her violet just below the knob. The boys start to clamor and she removes the penis from her mouth. The boys all cheer. A point for the boys' team! Someone says, "Tie game." The boy who got his penis painted has a smug look on his face. He points to the girl who originally had the red lipstick, the girl in the red dress, and everyone cheers. The girl takes a long draught from her beer and then she stands. She is really tall, with arms and legs that match her long, almost ungainly, neck. Carly thinks this girl looks like some sort of big, beautiful bird—a swan. The boy gingerly slips his hard cock back into his pants. He leaves himself unzipped and takes swan-girl by the hand. The two are about to head upstairs when one of the other girls pleads with swan-girl to apply red to the next cock. Her boy steps possessively toward her, but she kisses him and pushes away, applying a thick coat of red to her lips. A new boy drops his trousers. Swan-girl takes his large penis in her hand. She gracefully bends over and swallows his cock, slowly working it all the way down her throat. The hem of her slinky red dress rides high on her bottom. She twists her head and the boy groans. She begins to pull her head back, but she does it slowly, allowing his wet cock to appear inch by inch. The room grows quiet. When she finally stands, her cheeks are the same shade of red as her dress. Her lips are hopelessly smeared. She opens her mouth to reveal a load of the boy's cream. The girls all scream with delight. She swallows, then returns to the boy who selected her and grabs his hand, looking into his eyes. He is grinning, shaking his head. She pecks him on the cheek, leaving a smear of red. They head upstairs. Girls are ahead: two to one! Carly's thighs are opening and closing all on their own and she can't seem to stop herself. It's almost as if her legs have a mind of their own. She feels moisture in her panties. She realizes she's had a penis in her mouth for the first time in her life and the event has passed by with hardly a notice, even by her. She asks Sam where the girl and boy went. Sam explains the boy who wins gets to pick any girl he wants and take her upstairs to "find the pot of gold." Carly squeals. A warm feeling rushes through her body and comes to a halt somewhere between her legs. She closes her thighs and leans forward, squeezing her knees together. She loves the feeling of her tummy and both her thighs collapsing around the warm spot in her middle all at once. But then she feels a sudden pang of panic. "A boy who wins can choose any girl?" she asks. Will she end up getting fucked tonight? Sam grins mischievously, as if she's read Carly's mind. "You might," Sam says. "The boys do like the new girls." Carly swallows. She fidgets. Her mouth dries up. She wants to tell Sam she's a virgin, but it all sounds so lame. Looking away, Carly sees the boy with the tattoos across the room. He's sipping a drink. Watching her. He grins at her, but before Carly can compose herself, smile back, or do much of anything, a Latino girl with long dark hair and voluptuous hips steps into her field of view and strikes up a conversation with him. Carly feels a cold stone drop into her tummy. Sam is talking, but Carly is only half listening. Her focus is on the hunger at her core, the boy across the room, the beautiful girl talking to him. She thinks of her virginity—her mother, her pastor, the church and every vow she's ever made. Sam is still talking, waving her hand. Carly watches the jelly band bracelets dancing on her friend's wrist. Sam leans forward and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "For the longest time," she says—and this next part Carly hears clearly, "I only used my hand." Forcing herself back to the moment, Carly asks: "Your hand?" Sam grins. She taps her fist into her palm, making the noise of flesh slapping on flesh. Carly blushes. Suddenly everyone starts to gather. Together, Carly and Sam peer across the room. The boy with the tattoos has dropped his pants. His cock is standing proud, hard and red. Carly imagines herself using both her fists on it. Upstairs, on her own. Kneeling at his feet. His big cock in both her hands. "Give me the yellow," Carly says. "Quick." "You want to go yellow?" Sam says. The girl who had trouble with red is trying to do deep throat again. The crowd is coaching her. There might be time. Maybe. Sam pulls the lipstick from her pocket and hurriedly applies it to Carly's lips, right over the violet. "We have to hurry," Sam says, packing the makeup on. She uses her thumb to clean up the lines on Carly's lips. "Run," Sam says. Carly looks over her shoulder. "Go," Sam says. "Go!" Carly marches over to the boy. She locks eyes with him, and he holds her gaze. She wavers just a little. Her knees feel suddenly weak. This is the first time she has met his stare with one of her own. She feels herself growing self-conscious. Taking a deep breath, she pushes her discomfort aside. The crowd noises fade to the background. The girl before her finishes, rises. In a single fluid motion, Carly falls to her knees and takes the cock in her mouth. She doesn't use her hands this time. She swallows as much as she can, then pushes herself to go a little deeper. For the second time in her life, Carly has a warm cock in her mouth. She swirls her lips, making her mark. Rising on her knees, Carly lets the cock fall from her mouth. She looks around. An eerie quiet has settled on the room. The boys are grinning. The black girl with the red on her lips is standing with her mouth hanging open. She closes it, smiles and then sadly shakes her head. The boy with the tattoos grabs his long dick by its base. Inspecting it, he says: "Red, yellow." He raises his head. "Foul," he says. The boys loudly exalt as one. A penalty for the girls, a point for the boys. The tattooed boy pulls up his pants amid his teammates' hoots of pleasure. He carefully puts his cock back into his underwear, leaving his pants open. Carly feels her face heating up. She feels someone puts hands on both her shoulders. "It's my fault," Sam whispers. "I'm sorry." Her friend's tone does more to set Carly on edge than provide comfort. "You," the tattooed boy says, suddenly addressing Carly. The room goes quiet. Carly swallows. She feels the makeup caked on her lips. A salty taste in her mouth. He has his hands on his hips, his cock a fat bulge in his underwear. He lowers his head and grins. "You're getting fucked tonight, little lady." The boys hoot wildly and stomp their feet. The girls laugh. Carly's stomach falls. She lets out a shuddery exhale of breath and her head feels light. She is grateful to be on her knees. "I got you," she hears Sam whisper. "I got you." Rainbow Party Carly can hear his groin slapping against Sam. Carly feels hot, but it's not sexual. She's angry. Fuck this boy, hurting her friend. Her brows pull together and she wants to say something to him, do something for her friend. She glares at him, but it's no use. The boy's eyes are closed. Then Carly hears it, the soft moans that come from Sam that are not the sounds of pain. Little gasps of breath, punctuated by tiny moans. Carly can feel Sam's chin buried in her groin. Leaning back on the bed, Carly sees Sam's eyes are closed, her face contorted. Sam rolls her head from side to side in Carly's lap. The boy is grunting softly. Sam starts to softly whisper fuck, fuck. Oh. Fuck. Oh, oh. The temperature in the room rises. Carly can feel moisture gathering in her underwear. She wants desperately to touch herself, to feel that delicious pressure between her legs. She wishes she had the courage to behave like Sam. Carly wishes she could kick off her pants, toss off her panties. Point her ass to a boy wearing only tattoos. She can't even get up the courage to reach between her own legs in front of these others. Sam writhes and her face brushes against Carly's crotch. An intense bolt of pleasure races through Carly's body and she immediately closes her legs on Sam's head. It feels wrong to grind her pussy on her friend's chin, but Carly can hardly help herself. She is not thinking as much as reacting to her own body's demands. But Sam is already moving, squirming. Twisting away from her. The boy reaches between Sam's legs and she arcs her back, popping her head out from between Carly's legs. Carly feels an emptiness, a longing. Sam has a surprised look on her face and then she closes her eyes and starts to gasp. Carly feels a vacuum between her legs where her friend's head once rested. Watching her friend's face contort in delight, Carly inches down the bed, rocking her hips, trying to make body-to-body contact. It feels shameful to hump her friend for the release she so desperately needs, so Carly is moving slowly, trying to be discreet. And then Sam is groaning, making loud noises, and so is the boy. He has stopped his thrusting and now he is just pushing his hips into her. Sam soon rolls flat on her back, laughing and sighing and stroking herself between her legs. A great feeling of hopelessness washes over Carly. The boy is making small talk but Carly hears very little of what he has to say. He pulls up his pants. When he leans to kiss Carly goodbye, she turns away. Looks at Sam. He pecks her cheek. Later, in the laundry room, Sam asks: "You okay?" Carly nods. Then she shakes her head. She is stripping out of her lipstick stained shorts. Sam has offered to let her wear a pair of lacy boy short panties. Sam's panties are a little tight, but Carly is grateful to get out of her own moist underwear. "He's a jerk," Carly says. Sam is tugging on a matching set of panties, her eyes on Carly's hips, her thighs. "Don't be too hard on the boys," Sam says. A sudden storm of emotion wells up in Carly. It comes upon her so swiftly it makes her take two steps back. Her foot kicks a small metal pail and she swears softly, then kicks it across the tiny room. The pail clangs loudly in the corner. "Fuck you," Carly says. It's not clear if she's talking to the bucket or to Sam. Carly tucks her hair behind her ear. Her eyes are welling up with tears, but she doesn't want to cry. She looks Sam right in the eyes. "Fuck you," she says. "Fuck you." Now it's clear who Carly is cursing. Sam is looking at Carly warily, cringing. Carly's not even sure why she's so angry, but it's no use hiding it now. "Fuck you," she whispers again. She drops her face into her hands. And now she's crying. Nothing left to hide. Carly sobs softly into her hands. Suddenly the door opens and a Latino girl wearing green lipstick is there. She says the game is tied three up. They really need Sam and Carly for the final round. Her voice is chipper at first but then as she takes in the scene in the laundry room, her voice fades to a hesitant, haltering tone. She stops, toys with her hair. Sam crosses the little room and takes Carly in her arms. Sam tells the Latino girl they'll both be out soon. When the door closes, Carly takes a deep breath. She apologizes. Says she doesn't know what came over her. Sam is softly cooing her support, telling Carly that a rainbow party can have that effect on you, especially your first one. Carly basks in her friends arms. It feels warm, it feel right. "I'm a virgin," Carly hears herself say. It's like she's dropped her backpack filled with school books, heavy binders, and paper notes. Carly can feel her cheeks warming. She looks into Sam's eyes and sees warmth, compassion. Sam traces her fingers the length of Carly's jaw. "I am too," Sam says. Carly laughs, wiping the tears from her eyes. "No you're not," she says. Sam straightens her back. "Well," Sam says. Her voice is small. Hesitant. Her arms fall from Carly's shoulders. "Technically I am," Sam says. "Still," she adds. Carly swallows her laughter. Her eyes still sting. For a brief second, it looks to Carly as if Sam has been struck. But then the look disappears and it's hard for Carly to tell what is going through her friend's mind. Sam is looking at the floor. She shrugs her shoulders. "You know," she says, looking up. "A virgin." Carly feels as if she would give anything—do anything, pay any price—if she could have the last ten seconds to do one more time.