Head to the first house.

As she walked down the unlit street, Chelsey's mind was abuzz with hundreds of thoughts, not one of them coherent. Her over-exposed body was both tickled and assaulted by the cold night winds, the thin strings of her clothes rubbed against her pussy and breasts, and her face was so red she wouldn't doubt it if every person who lived on the street could see her coming.

She both loved and hated the freedom she felt all at once, her body had never felt hotter than it did now, yet it was freezing outside.

This terrible nighttime walk was making her think things she had never thought before, and experience both horrid and magical experiences she never thought possible. Were her friends really trying to turn her into an exhibitionist?

Before she knew it, she had creeped through the night to the first house, its light almost startling her when she noticed it, her eyes having grown adjusted to the dark.

Slowly, cautiously, Chelsey approached the doorstep of the house, her mind screaming at her just to leave and go to the party. And yet, some perverse curiosity drove her ever closer to the door, stepping onto the porch, her body shining in the windows' light.

Taking a deep breath, Chelsey decided with whatever self-worth and determination she had left that whoever answered this door was getting an eyeful, one way or another.

Ringing the doorbell, she tried to calm herself, but all she could do was freeze in place. Her body was shaking, but not from the cold. She was used to that by now, and her arm and leg warmers did really help.

Footsteps rapidly approached, and her heart-rate skyrocketed. Before she knew it, the door was wide open, and whoever lived at this house was seeing Chelsey in her full perverse "glory."