Denise follows suit.

As Denise lets go of your arm and hands you the empty bucket she’d used to drench you, which you quickly hold firmly in front of your crotch, she turns to talk to you. “Listen, Sam, what happened there was totally Amy’s fault,” Denise starts, but keeps going to cut off your friend’s protests, “but I feel kinda bad about it too. So...” With a glance back at Danika, Denise takes a breath and whips off her t-shirt, showing off the stringy, slightly-too-small black bikini top she had underneath. Your breath hitches, and Denise gives you a smile, with the rare sign of her feeling a little less than confident in her eyes as she sticks her thumbs into the band of her shorts, and quickly has those kicked off as well!

“All right!” Amy shouts, moving to untie her own top, “let’s get down to business!”

But Amy is quickly stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Let’s not,” says Danika, fixing Denise with a stern look, waiting for an explanation.

Denise crossed her arms, and shifts her weight (a movement that, from behind her, you notice, makes her bottoms ride up ever so slightly.) “I just didn’t want Sam to be the odd one out, you know?” Danika doesn’t look impressed but there it is again- that quick, almost imperceptible glance back over at your now bare legs and translucent shirt- before going back to Denise.

“I can’t help notice that you took off a bit more than he was missing. Either your shirt goes back on, or his comes off.”

“Y-you can’t be serious,” you start, but Danika tends to be serious about most things, and the look she’s giving you only confirms it. With a loom between the expectant Denise and the rapt Amy, you sigh, set the bucket down, and quickly take off your shirt, tossing it over into a pile with Denise’s discarded clothes. Danika waits a moment, then gives you a nod. “Very well.”

“And the rest of us?”, Amy asks, getting a glare from the president in response. But, as Danika heads back towards the counter, Priyanka whispers something in her ear, and she sighs. “The rest of you can lose one item, if you really want, either your shirt or whatever shorts you have on.” And Amy does just that, letting out a victorious whoop has she whips her shirt off, showing off a tremendous amount of cleavage in a purple, floral print bikini top. Several other girls follow suit, shedding shirts or shorts here and there, and Denise quickly nudges you with her elbow.

“So,” she says, “let’s get back to work, huh?” You nod, and start filling the bucket up, while Denise goes to grab the hose. While you appreciate her show of solidarity, her show made some other things solid as well, and the increase of near nudity all around you wasn’t helping. As it was, you were carting that bucket of water around right in front of your semi-erect penis, the cold water being the only thing to keep it from reaching full mast. And there was no hiding that plenty of the ladies were drinking the sight of you in your sodden skivvies in just as much as you were them; every so often you had someone’s hands ‘accidentally’ brush against your ass, or someone’s hips bumping into your side.

To make things worse, as your current customer drove away to get dried, a very enthusiastic female TA who you had for physics, another car drove up in front of you, and your heart sank as you saw who was inside.