4th option go to the kegger

Beth decided to head to the kegger. Since it was a pretty warm night, she decided to wear one of her skimpy summer dresses, a low-cut, high-hemline light blue dress. After considering the relative merits of wearing underwear, she decided against it. She applied some thick red lipstick to her lips, shrugged on a pair of sandals, and headed out the door. The summer breeze felt good on her exposed legs, and her tits bounced freely as she walked down her driveway. She hopped in her car, and was on her way.

It didn't take too long to get there, though the place was somewhat out of the way. The party was apparently taking place at some new development, a bunch of half-finished houses out on the edge of the city. All the party attendees had done a pretty good job spreading out their cars, and she wouldn't have even known where to go, until she saw a truck with a Confederate flag hanging in the back window. She parked her car across the street from it, and went over to look at it.

Taped to the window was a little hand-written post-it note, saying "we're in the house with the blue front door." Beth looked around, and sure enough, a few houses down, was a half-finished house with a blue door. She walked over to it. She couldn't really hear anything going on inside, but she tried the door anyway, and it opened for her. She walked into the house, and now that she was inside, she could hear the faint sounds of music coming from the basement. All of the walls of the house were built, but were mostly unpainted sheetrock. Open the door to the basement, she could see a throng of people downstairs, dancing to music.

Beth walked slowly down the wooden staircase, taking in the sight. It was very dark down in the basement, but there were a few lamps in some of the corners, and Beth could make out the general structure of the party in the dim light. The partygoers seemed to be high school seniors, people who had just recently graduated, probably. The party had obviously been going for a little while, judging by the average state of intoxication. A whole group of dancers, male and female, were currently shirtless (and mostly bra-less, in the cases of the girls), and grinding pretty hard to the music. In another corner, there was a group who was clearly passing around a bowl or two, and right near the staircase was a couple of kegs, being operated by no other than TJ, the quarterback who had fucked her so well, earlier.