It was too short to begin with. Now...

Becky was a knockout in her dress, sure, but statuesque she wasn't. Jess teased us all about height from time to time, (not that any of us could hope to compare to the colossus), Amanda the most and me the least. I'd never really paid attention to just how much taller I was than Becky- not by much- but with the skimpy dress was making even a few inches seem like feet.

The dress, already short on Becky, was barely wide enough to keep me covered at all! Up top at least I was still wearing a bra, though the straps looked decidedly tacky with the dress's tube top. Down below, it was a nightmare- I was covered maybe halfway up my thighs, and turning around in the mirror, the very bottom of my bottom hung out underneath. I pulled the hem down the best I could, but I felt like my chest was going to pop out any second, and I knew if I bent over even slightly I'd be mooning anyone behind me. I shivered, the club's AC breezing between my legs, reminding me that it'd be a full moon, too, thanks to Becky. Smoothing the dress out the best I could, and taking one last forlorn look in the mirror, I knew I had to get back to the table- if I couldn't drag Becky back in here to re-swap outfits, I could at least get all my underwear back.

The problem with that, though, was getting across the club. The dance floor was bumping, full of folks jumping and jostling against one another; the exact last thing my precarious cover needed. Of course, going around would be slow and wide-open, which I wasn't too partial to either at that moment. Taking a deep breathe, I made up my mind, not knowing how much I chose wrong....