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Our Parties

By: Calandria



Julie and I had been married five years. We had been moved, more-or-less forcibly, by my firm, from the North of England, to the Commuter-belt, semi-detached, keeping-up-with-the-Jones's-country, and all that. Our marriage was OK. If I say it lacked a certain spark, I risk a visit from the ACP (Authors' Cliché Police) but it was probably true of many five-year-old marriages, anyway. 

Julie had a circle of friends, most of whom she had met around the school she took our two young kids to, or at the library where she did some part-time work. I had made some friends amongst workmates and fellow cricketers and rugby players. One way and another, we started getting invited to more and more parties, and, as the kids grew old enough to leave with a sitter, we stayed out later, and went to yet more parties – they seemed to be the social life of the suburb where we lived.

As we got into the 'party circuit' – even threw one or two of our own, farming the kids out to neighbours – we started, inevitably, I suppose, seeing the same faces at many parties. It became a routine, and it also became almost as familiar to dance with, say, Linda from the Day Nursery, or Brenda from the Bookshop, as with my own wife. It got so that we danced to a fairly regular pattern at the parties, some rock numbers, then some slow stuff, when someone invariably dimmed the lights, and it was tacitly accepted that you were dancing with someone other than your wife at that point. I tried to make sure I was dancing with the sultry Linda, or a pneumatic young lady called Sue whenever the lights went down, and spent a happy few moments with an alien tongue probing around my mouth, and a raging hard-on pressed against the lady's stomach.

One evening, as Julie was getting ready to go to a party, our second that month, I said, 'Another new dress!' She looked pretty good, I had to admit, long blonde hair, brushed straight down her back, and a simple long, backless green silk halter-dress – or perhaps it was man-made fibre, we didn't have that much money - but it was silky, anyway, and felt nice. The girls were forever trying to outdo each other, which was OK by the fellows, I suppose.

She turned to look at me, 'Do you ever get jealous, Tom, when I dance, and snog with other men?'

'Perhaps a little,' I admitted, 'and you?'

'Well, I suppose so, yes,' she said, 'but it's OK if we come home together, eh?'

I wondered where this was going, and a sudden thought came to me. 'Do you want to take it further, ever?' I asked.

She hesitated long enough for me to know that there was a doubt there, before saying no, and a sudden idea struck me. 'Do me a favour, Julie,' I said, 'in that dress you can't wear a bra, I know. Take your panties off as well, tonight. I shall know when I see you dancing with someone else that you are naked under your dress. It will turn me on.'

She looked at me as if I had gone mad, then saw I was serious, reached up under her skirt and pulled her black lace panties down, over her sandals, and off. 'No harm done, I suppose,' she said.

The party was at a house a bit like our own, a normal semi-detached, and there were no more than ten couples invited. I danced a lot with Linda, whose racial origins I could never be sure about. She had dark olive skin-tone, and the blackest of eyes, which she accentuated with heavy make-up, and she always wore slinky, skin-tight dresses and very high heels. She had a way of moulding her body to you when she danced that suggested – well, it suggested a first-class fuck. As we danced, we brushed past Julie, dancing with Linda's husband, Gary, who was an engineer of some sort. She gave me a look over his shoulder, and I knew what was passing through her mind. My cock hardened instantly against Linda's intimate closeness.

'Ooh,' she whispered in my ear, 'down, Fido!'

But 'Fido' wouldn't listen, and I had to sit down quickly when the music stopped in order to save embarrassment.

When we got home that evening, I left the car on the driveway, in order to take the babysitter home. She only lived two minutes away. After Julie had discussed the kids' bedtime antics with her, I took her home, and, when I arrived home again, was surprised to find the downstairs lights still on.

I walked into the lounge to find Julie waiting for me, still in her party dress, stood by the dining table. As I entered, she slowly lifted up the skirt of her dress, revealing her long slender legs, and her trim little bush, through which she deliberately ran her finger, her eyes never leaving mine. I came and lifted her bodily onto the table, and parted her legs. My prick was already engorged and waiting, the hours of the party, dancing with the sexy Linda, thinking about my wife dancing around naked under her dress – all this meant that my erection was just below the surface. I didn't have to check to know that Julie was wet through in anticipation, and my shaft slipped into her with rare ease, drawing a contented moan from the back of her throat. The wetness of her cunt made slurping noises as I drove in and out, slapping my balls against her arse with each deep stroke, then she cried out, 'Yes, oh yes, Tom, I'm coming, oh Tom, yes, yes! Oooh!' I shot my load in a great hot, liquid stream, as she writhed and bucked with the force of her climax.

'Good idea of yours, the one about no panties,' she said later, 'I got quite excited dancing with Gary.' I wasn't sure what to think of that, but we had certainly had our best fuck in years. I decided to think about taking things a step further.

Next morning was Saturday, and over a leisurely breakfast, whilst the kids had gone out to play, I said, 'Apropos of what you said last night, what do you think to having a word with all your girlfriends? You know they like to compete – they're always appearing in new dresses – how about you start the fashion for no underwear?'

'You dirty bastard,' she said, 'you just want to get a grip on that slut Linda with no panties.'

I tried to look hurt, but Julie was smiling, 'It's OK,' she said, 'it may be fun, but I don't know if I can bring up the subject.'

'Sure you can,' I said, 'why not talk to Kathy first?' Kathy was a well-known gossip, who ran a Charity Shop where just about everybody congregated.

'I'll see what I can do.'

We had no parties organised for about a month, due to the holidays, and our time was taken up with other things, but Julie mentioned a couple of times that she had spoken to Kathy, and even to Linda, when she had delivered our younger child to the Nursery, and that they had been amused by the idea, and certainly had not rejected it. In early September, we had a party invitation from Kathy, whose home was a rather nice detached house, in a riverside location at the edge of town. We showed up at nine o'clock, as invited, Julie wearing another long dress, this time a maroon one with a plunging neckline and a tight skirt, which, had she been wearing panties would have shown a line distinctly. As we sat down to enjoy a preliminary drink, and watch the larger than usual gathering arrive, I couldn't help wondering how many of the women were devoid of underwear.

A little later, Kathy came and asked me to dance with her. She was a buxom blonde, not really to my taste, but filled her dress pretty well, I had to say.

'I'm not wearing panties, you know,' she said, by way of introduction. She ground heer belly into mine as we danced, and I asked her if she had passed on the message to many other women. 'Oh, yes,' she said, 'just about everybody. There's some discussion about going a little further.'

I was intrigued, and was about to ask Julie if she knew what that was all about, but found myself in a clinch with Linda, as the lights were dimmed, and, this being Kathy's house, the dimmer was very effective.

Linda was dressed in a midnight-blue sheath-dress, with spaghetti straps. It was made of thin synthetic material, and her nipples strained at the top, poking out like hard little knobs against my lower chest as she held me close. Her perfume filled my senses, and she whispered, 'I'm naked under this dress, you know, Tom.' 

'I know, Linda.'

'Would you like to fuck me, Tom?' she teased.

'Does the Pope say his prayers?'

'We'll have to see what we can do.' She sounded as if she really meant it. My rod stood to attention.

The dance was over far too quickly, and Julie and I were reunited. She had been dancing with James, Kathy's husband. 

It was a couple of days before I remembered the brief conversation I had had with Kathy, and mentioned it to Julie.

'Oh, that,' she said, 'Kathy did mention something to me, now you say – she said that a couple of the girls had been talking in her shop, and the suggestion is that we try for some different kinds of parties.'

'You mean like Tarts and Vicars, or Bad Taste parties, that kind of thing?'

'Well, no, not exactly.'

'You can't mean wife-swapping?'

'They don't want to go that far – at least, not just yet.'

'What, then?'

'The idea is that we've gone without panties – at least a lot of us have – we think probably a nightwear party might be fun, then see where we go from there.'

I thought about it, and it sounded good to me, but I'd have to go and buy a pair of pyjamas if the men were to be included, as I always slept naked.

Plans were made, and the venue was set – once again, Kathy volunteered her house, so long as we all chipped in for the booze – she had the space, after all.

'You look great,' I said to Julie, and meant it, when she did a twirl in the bedroom doorway, in a floor-length peach silk nightgown with deep v's front and rear. It covered her decently, but, when she was framed against the light from the passageway, her long limbs were silhouetted clearly, and the dark smudge of her bush could just be made out. She climbed onto a pair of strappy stilettos, and completed her ensemble by clipping a gold chain around her waist and putting in long gold pendant ear-rings. She slipped on a coat over her gown, and I did similarly over my short pyjamas, and off we went, across town to Kathy's.

When we arrived, the party was already in swing, and that everybody had entered into the spirit of it was plain. I spotted Linda straight away, and she gave me a surreptitious wave, hooding her eyes suggestively.

'Fuck, she's got the hots for you,' said Julie.

'And you wouldn't mind a piece of her husband,' I rejoined.

'As you mention it,' she said, and went off to get drinks.

Linda was wearing a transparent scarlet baby-doll nightdress which concealed nothing whatever of her small breasts, and her dark aureola, with their hard little nipples thrust out the top, jiggling as she danced. The nightdress was accompanied by an equally transparent thong, tied at the sides by means of two red ribbons. Even as she danced, I could tell that her mound was completely shaven, and, as I watched her, unable to take my eyes off her, her hand strayed mischievously between her legs, and lingered just a split second, whilst her tongue darted out from between her lips, too fast for anyone else to have noticed, I felt sure.

Julie had been waylaid by Gary as she was fetching the drinks, and was deep in conversation – I noticed with amusement his hand creeping around her arse, just sliding around the smooth silk. She clearly enjoyed the attention. 

I danced a couple of numbers with the heavy-breasted Brenda, from the Bookshop, who wore another short, transparent number, but I caught myself looking again and again at Linda, and wondered how I could find the time to make it with her.

Kathy told us that the slow numbers were coming up – we always had a bit of a warning – and I noticed Julie was missing from my side. Then I saw that Gary had claimed her for the dance-floor, and his wife was getting herself a drink. I wasted no time. Walking up behind her, I asked, 'May I have this dance, please?' 

'Certainly, sir,' she said, and threw an arm around my neck, pushing her lithe body against me, just as the lights were dimmed almost to complete darkness. 

'A Whiter Shade of Pale' was playing ass we smooched around, but we were oblivious, and I had the erection of all time, as my hand strayed to her buttocks and I found it incredibly easy to work my finger down the crack of her arse, and ease it into her arsehole.

'How did you know where I like to be fucked?' she whispered.

'Linda, you drive me insane,' I said, 'come on, I don't care where, I've got to fuck you, now!' 

I glanced around, straining my eyes in the dark, but saw no sign of my wife. I grabbed Linda by the hand, and we set off in search of an empty room. I pulled her down a corridor, and found a door, which opened to the touch. Straight away, it was clear that this wasn't the answer, as we heard the unmistakeable sounds of lovemaking issuing from within, much creaking of bedsprings, and a lot of moaning and groaning.

'Come on,' I said, and pulled her onwards, and found a door out to the garden. At the end of a short path, there was a gazebo, and although it was cool, it wasn't a bad evening. She scampered down the path, and was in the gazebo, sat on a wooden bench, lit by the light from the windows of the house, by the time I got there. 

'Oh Tom, fuck me, please,' she pleaded, 'I've wanted it for so long.' 

As she spoke, she was tugging at the bows on the ribbons of her thong, and, once freed, she pulled it out of her crack, and opened her legs wide, pulling her labia lewdly apart with the fingers of both hands.

'Look how wet I am,' she said, and even in the dim light, I could see her cunt glistening with secretions. I got down on my knees and licked her until she was close to orgasm, but she said, 'You know what I said, Tom, about where I want it?' And she shifted her position on the bench, moving her buttocks up to the very edge, so that I could see into her waiting arsehole. It was a lovely, velvet-lined channel, just asking to be penetrated, and my aching shaft was wanting to go there more than anything in the world. I took my time entering her warm inviting portals, and she moaned with sheer pleasure as I reached her sphincter and her peristalsis took me to new heights of pleasure. I couldn't have said whether it was she or I who screamed when she reached her shuddering climax and I stiffened and unburdened my load of hot spunk into her bowels. Perhaps it was both of us.

'Phew,' I said, as we made our way back to the house. To get back to the dancing, we had to traverse the same corridor which passed the bedroom the noise had been coming from earlier. As we did so, Julie walked casually out of the door, closing it behind her.

She started, 'Oh, hello,' she said, 'been somewhere?'

I didn't reply. On the way home, she said, 'Quite a party.'

Our Parties Ch. 02



JULIE'S TAKE.

Tom has told the story of our parties, and the start of their escalation. I'll take it up from here in, for the moment. The nightwear party we had at Kathy's spacious house was voted by everybody I spoke to a roaring success.

I wasn't sorry that, even though Tom had had himself 'done,' I had taken the precaution of going back on the pill. It was, therefore, a surprise to all of us in our 'circle' when Linda announced that she was pregnant. 

The summer holidays intervened, and it was some time before the 'party season' came around again, by mutual consent. The chat in the charity shop, run by Kathy, was all in favour of a repeat performance of the nightwear party, and Linda looked glum as she exhibited her now considerable belly, and wished us luck.

At home that evening, I told Tom that Linda and her husband wouldn't be there.

'You'll miss Gary, then,' was all he said, but I knew he had had the fuck of a lifetime with Linda.

'We should try to get some new blood involved,' I said.

'Already on that,' he said, 'I've asked around at work. We've got a lot of youngish people in the new office, and there's a good deal of interest. I'll keep on it.' 

Tom's engineering job had recently been relocated closer to home, in a new industrial estate, saving him his commuting journey of over an hour, so the clerical staff were drawn from the local area.

When the day of the party arrived, I remembered the previous one, and decided I should make a special effort. The girls were a pretty cool lot, on the whole, and competitive, to say the least, so I spent a long time in preparation. My hair was a strong feature of mine, and I knew it looked good when I brushed its straight, golden, length to a silken sheen, but I remembered from the previous party that my pubic bush had shown as a smudge through my translucent nightie. Tonight I was planning on wearing a still more transparent one, a long black nylon number, and decided that there was nothing for it but to shave.

I accordingly went to the bathroom, and took my time, sitting on the edge of the bath, firstly snipping off all the longer hairs of my dense bush with nail scissors, then taking a can of Tom's foam and lathering myself thoroughly. Using a new razor and a hand mirror, I carefully took off every vestige of hair, cleaning off my mound first, then easing my pussy-lips aside as I worked my gentle way around my crack, being ultra fastidious, and concentrating on the little hairs that grew between my cunt and my anus, right into the very ring of my arsehole. When I was satisfied, I ran my hand through my slit, and found I was getting aroused, just by the unfamiliar smoothness under my touch. When I smoothed in some lotion, the feeling was intensely erotic, and, looking at myself in the mirror, I though, not for the first time, that I should return to the shop where I had my navel pierced, and have my clit done. At the sudden thought, I found the nub between my thumb and forefinger, and gave a little squeal of joy.

'This won't do, if I'm ever going to get ready,' I thought to myself, and desisted.

Going back to the bedroom, I completed my jewellery and make-up. I slipped a silver chain around my waist, leaving the loose end dangling around my pubes. I took the normal pearl decoration I wear out of my navel, and put in a silver ring, from which hung three fine chains with little stars on the ends.

I had had a set of porcelain nails fitted, and the left index finger I had had drilled. I now put in it a tiny ring, from which I hung a fine chain, again with a little star at the end. It would get in the way, be a nuisance, but then you have to suffer to be beautiful, somebody said.

I put in matching long silver drop ear-rings, which grazed my shoulders, an anklet and bracelets, then took my time over my make-up, rouging my nipples, which would be entirely visible under my gown.

Tom came home a bit later than usual from work, in a hurry to get ready. When he saw me, he did a double-take.

'You're never planning to be seen like that?'

I looked at myself in the mirror. The gown was certainly revealing. 

'It's not half as sexy as that slut Linda looked last time. You're only peeved because she's not coming!'

'But that's where you're wrong,' he said, Linda is coming! A different Linda, true enough, Linda the receptionist, from the office – wait until you see her!' 

He hurried through to the bedroom, and, typical man that he was, took about five minutes to get ready, emerging in a new pair of short silk pyjamas.

I stepped into a pair of strappy stilettos, and told him to call a taxi, then we both slipped top-coats over our extravagant party-gear, and waited for the cab.

We arrived as just about everybody else was turning up, cars already lining Kathy's elegant driveway. I immediately knew about half the people there. The buxom Kathy, I had to admit, didn't look half bad in a classy long silk nightgown – perhaps she had lost weight, but Brenda's huge tits looked ready to fall out of the unbecoming pyjamas she had chosen. My near neighbour Adrienne looked eye-catching, and I saw Tom giving her the once-over, in a white baby-doll top with tiny panties tied at the sides by huge white ribbon-bows. She had short jet-black hair and sparkling eyes, and can't have weighed more than 110 pounds wet through. But I was more interested in her husband, Ian, who had piercing blue eyes, and wore only a pair of boxer-shorts. He was making apologies to Kathy, who was flirting outrageously with him.

'I just don't have any pyjamas, you see,' he was saying, 'Adrienne won't let me wear them.'

'Neither would I, with a body like that,' said Kathy, and he certainly had a lovely upper body, with muscle-definition which spoke of hours in the gymnasium.

Just then, a willowy blonde I didn't know appeared, and Tom turned to greet her.

'Hello, Linda,' he said, 'I want you to meet my wife, Julie.'

Linda, who seemed to be alone, had me on the back foot right away. She carried with her an aura, that wasn't only due to the Guerlain scent she was wearing – there was something about her that made me weak at the knees, something that had only once happened to me with a woman before – and that was years ago, when I was at boarding college. She had a long, not very ecological, fur coat wrapped carelessly about her, and apart from seeing that her feet were in strappy stilettos much like those I was wearing, and that she had white-blonde hair which disappeared under her coat, and somewhat aristocratic features, I couldn't say what it was that it was about her.

I felt, however, impelled to help her get rid of her coat, and told her to follow me to the downstairs room Kathy always designated as a cloakroom. As we went, I saw that Tom was busy greeting two more couples, presumably people he knew from work.

When I opened the door to the cloakroom, and threw down the switch, I turned to Linda.

'Why don't you give me your coat?' I suggested, and she shrugged it off, her grey eyes

taking in my gown, and what was beneath it, as she did so.

I gasped involuntarily when I saw her revealed to me.

'You're lovely,' I said, 'really!'

And I meant it. She wore a midnight blue nightgown, shot with a silvery sheen. It had a fitted bodice, cupping her ample breasts, but the material was thin enough for the outline of her nipples to be seen, perfectly centred. Her spectacular cleavage was displayed beautifully, almost half of each creamy breast being on view. The gown was gathered below her breasts and fell to the floor in soft cascades. When she turned as she slipped off her coat, I saw that the gown was backless, right down to the start of her buttock-cleavage, and her hair ended right there.

'You're not bad, yourself,' she said, and as she spoke, a silver tongue-stud darted out between her teeth, with a self-conscious click to accompany the action. She reached out and patted my arm, and her touch was electric on my skin. I felt out of control, lost.

'We'd better join the party,' I said.

'I suppose so,' said Linda, and I noticed she had the faintest lisp. I thought it was charming.

'I work with your husband, you know,' she was saying, 'he's very nice.'

'Are you married, or.....or anything?' I found myself asking.

'No, dear,' she said, 'why do you ask?' There was a twinkle in her eye.

'Oh, I don't know.......I....'

'Let's dance,' she said, and we jived our way through several beat numbers before Kathy put a slow one on. I thought Linda would want to sit down then, but she put her arms around me, and held me close, as Kathy did as she always did, and dimmed the lights.

Just about everybody was now up on the floor, but my world, at that moment, contained Linda and myself. Good God, what was happening to me, ME, Julie, Tom's wife? Was I a closet lez? Less of the closet, I thought, this felt like it was the real thing! Linda's scent enveloped me as I nestled my cheek against her soft, soft hair, and she was nibbling my ear-lobe, probing my ear with her studded tongue. I turned her head around awkwardly, my hand in her hair, and kissed her lips, just a sample peck, a peck which opened the door to a real kiss, as her arm snaked around my neck, and she glued her luscious mouth onto mine, delving into me with that erotic silver stud, irresistibly tracing my own eager tongue, the roof of my mouth. 

Meanwhile, our bodies were pressed together, and she had a hand on my arse, coursing down the crease, sending shivers right through me, and causing a warm wetness to well up in my very centre. Knowingly, she pressed a finger lightly through my flimsy nightdress into the very entrance of my unprotected arsehole, and I flinched slightly.

'Sorry, darling,' she breathed, 'did I hurt you?'

'Not at all,' I heard myself whisper, hoarsely.

I had my arm around her tiny waist, feeling her sensual movement to the slow beat, pressing her body to mine, and when her thigh pushed its way between mine, I gave a little gasp of pleasure, moving my hand down to stroke her rounded buttocks through the silken folds of her gown.

'Is there somewhere we could sneak off to?' she whispered in my ear.

Looking around briefly, I spotted Tom, his tongue down the throat of a girl with short red hair I'd never seen before. He certainly wouldn't notice if I went missing! The lights were still dim to the point of near-darkness anyway, as another slow number started, so I took Linda by the hand, and led her past the makeshift cloakroom, up a short flight of stairs, into what I knew to be the guest bedroom. As the night was still young, I thought it had a good chance of being unoccupied. I was right. I quickly pulled Linda in and shut and locked the door. I didn't turn on the light. We looked at each other, in the flickering light from the traffic outside as she sat down on the bed beside me, passion for the moment overtaken by embarrassment. Then, without a word, she took my head in her hands, and kissed me gently on the lips, once, then again, this time just pushing her studded tongue briefly into my receptive mouth, and running a hand across my breasts as she did so. My nipples stood to attention, and I reciprocated, cupping her much heavier tits in both hands. Then I eased my fingers into the plunging neckline of her gown, and released her magnificent breasts from their prison, dropping down to suck her nipples like a baby. She squirmed and moaned with delight.

'Oh, Julie!' she cried, 'please! Yes, yes! I'm cumming!'

I was wet through myself, and couldn't wait to have Linda eat my pussy. I dragged myself up onto the bed, and pulled my nightie up around my waist, wantonly throwing my legs apart, as Linda climbed between them.

'God, Julie, you're beautiful!' she said, teasing me, alternately stroking my inner thighs, and playing with the end of my waist-chain, which dangled invitingly close to my clit-hood. I looked at her, whilst I played around with my labia, letting the finger with the chain hanging from the nail trail around my pussy.

That was too much for Linda, and she plunged her tongue deep into my cunt, the first time in my life that any woman had done that. The orgasm that had been waiting in the wings since she first touched my nipples came over me like an express train, and my juices flowed copiously as she tongue-fucked me.

But Linda was far from done. Now she knelt over me, and hitched up the silk of her gown, then whipped it off over her head, revealing her long, naked body in all its glory.

'You're magnificent, Linda,' I told her, and meant it.

She lithely moved around into a '69' position, and I saw that, not only was she, like myself, clean-shaven, but that she had a gold ring inserted in her clitoris. I loved it, and told her so.

'I'll take you to have one done, if you like,' she said, but my reply was lost as I had my face buried in her sweet, sweet pussy. She came easily. I had only to tug at her clit-ring a few times, and tongue her, to bring her to a shuddering climax. But she had saved the best until last, and quite suddenly, without warning, did the unexpected, and rammed a finger straight up my arsehole. At first the pain was terrible, but it was immediately

replaced by a surge of indescribable ecstasy. I came thunderously.

'Do it to me too!' she yelled, and I obliged, thrusting a finger deep into her rectum.

'Oh,' she groaned, 'oh yes!' And her breathing went off the scale as she came again in a massive wave of sheer pleasure.

We repaired our scanty clothing and make –up, and kidding ourselves we hadn't been missed, went back to the party, after agreeing to meet for shopping the following Saturday. I danced with all and sundry. When it was time to go home, I rescued Tom from the clutches of the predatory redhead, who I learned was called Pauline, and we went home.

'Good night?' he asked, on the way home.

'Mmmm,' I replied.

'Got on well with Linda, I see.'

I wondered just what he had seen.

'Yes, she's nice.'

'Rumour has it she's bi.'

'Oh?'

'Perhaps we could.....you know?'

'No?' I decided to play the innocent, and he dropped the subject.

When we got home, I had no sooner got in the door, than Tom turned to me, and said, 'Come on, Julie!'

He literally tore off my coat and pulled me into the lounge, then threw me bodily across the sofa.

My nightgown was around my waist already, and he had his cock, hard as a ramrod, in his hand, as he followed me onto the sofa. For once, he had no time for preliminaries, and I was still soaking wet from Linda's attentions. He drove straight into me, right up to the hilt, pumped me hard three or four times, then came in great hot spurts deep into my cunthole.

'You needed that,' I told him, 'that Pauline certainly got you warmed up!'

TOM'S TAKE

Julie has told you about the preparations for the second nightwear party at Kathy's house, and how I got a good group from work involved.

What she didn't know was what went on while she was making out with Linda at the party. Oh, I found out about that, alright, Linda is great, and a super bit of tail, but she also has a big mouth, and the following Monday lunchtime, a gin and tonic was all it needed. Not that I minded, you understand, Julie did what she wanted anyway.

Anyway, I'm jumping ahead. Before the party, I canvassed the personnel in the office – especially the girls – and got a bit of interest. Sexy Pauline said she and her husband would come, as did Linda, who was a bachelor-girl, and the boss's secretary, the rather cool Carol, who I really, really fancied, but didn't know anything about. 

The day of the party came around, and I had told the girls what they were expected to wear, drawing a few ooh's and aah's and silly comments.

You know from Julie's account what Linda was wearing, and she was certainly an eye-catcher, but then she would be in a bin-liner. 

When Pauline and her husband, Derek, arrived, I helped her off with her coat, and found her dressed in baggy harem pyjamas, long sleeves and legs fastened at their cuffs. But when she moved into the doorway of the big lounge and was framed by the light issuing from the room, I could see that the pyjamas were almost completely transparent, and she posed deliberately for me, as she stood there, running her hands down over her pointed breasts, tightening the thin cotton against her thrusting nipples, then down the sides of her hips, so that I could see the dark outline of her neatly-trimmed bush, pointing to her secret centre. She smiled at me, and put her tongue out lewdly as she felt the front of my silk pyjamas.

'My, Tom,' she said, 'I knew you'd be pleased to see us!'

Her husband Derek went off to get drinks, and was waylaid by the buxom Brenda, who introduced him, in turn, to her au-pair Ingrid.

'It'll be a while before those drinks arrive,' I said, nodding over to where Derek was ogling Ingrid's impressive tits, wobbling around in a transparent short nightie, 'let's dance.'

She agreed, and we made our way into the throng. She immediately threw her arms around my neck, and pushed her body up against mine, so that the firm points of her breasts were separated from my chest by the nothingness of her pyjamas, and the silk of mine. My erection sprang unbidden and embarrassing against her stomach.

'Ooh!' she exclaimed, 'somebody's not going to last out all evening!'

For an answer, I sought the cheeks of her lovely little arse with one hand, and tried to take my mind off her heady scent against my cheek by looking around me as we danced. My colleague from the office, Steve, had arrived, with his stunningly pretty wife Sue, and they were dancing together, she in a short shiny maroon nightdress. I had only seen her once before, at the firm's Christmas dinner, but could hardly forget that she had held my hand just that fraction longer than was laid down in the rule-book when we had said goodnight. Definitely interesting!

Next I spotted my wife, dancing close with the lovely Linda, looking for all the world as if they were enjoying each other – now there's a thing, I thought.

As we danced, and Pauline snuggled closer, I spotted the ice-maiden herself, Carol, the boss's secretary, dancing with a tall guy I had never seen before, but who had to be her husband. She acknowledged me with a half-smile as our eyes met, hers under incredibly sexy lids. She wore, like my wife had done for the first party, a classic long peach silk nightgown – I wondered if she shopped at the same place – which moulded her slim body to perfection, and did nothing to ameliorate my insistent tumescence.

Pauline had a way of wriggling around as we danced, rubbing her lithe little body against mine in a way that wouldn't be denied, and when I slipped a knee between her legs, and pushed my thigh against her meagrely-protected pussy, she gave a small gasp, pulled my head down to hers, and kissed me hard and long, opening her mouth wide so that our tongue entwined and fought their own battle.

'Come on, Tom,' she breathed, 'I need you to fuck me, NOW!'

I was not disposed to offer any objection, and remembered the gazebo from the last party, and my dalliance with Linda, but this time, no al-fresco jaunt was necessary. As I hustled Pauline out past Kathy's station by the record-player, she 'tipped me the wink.'

'My bedroom, if you like, darlings. You know where it is, Tom, where you fixed my computer-link,' she whispered, and we were off up the stairs in a flash.

I pushed her into Kathy's palatial bedroom, and, almost before I could lock thee door, she was on her knees, and had fished my cock out of the slit in my pyjamas. She cradled it lovingly in both hands, and said, 'Tom, this is wonderful, I can't wait to have it inside me.'

She rounded her lips and took the very tip into her mouth sucking pre-cum from me, stroking my length as she did so, whilst I reached down, and massaged her lovely breasts, which were like those of an adolescent.




Our Parties Ch. 02



I lifted her up onto Kathy's queen-size bed, and unbuttoned her top, then let her shrug it off and took a long look at the firmness of those pretty breasts. I kneaded them then, and pulled at the nipple between thumb and forefinger, deliberately hurting her.

'Ouch!' she cried, 'that hurt!'

'I meant it to. I'll bet you liked it, yes?'

She looked down sheepishly, 'Yes, I did. How did you know?'

'I just knew,' I said, 'I'll bet there are many things you would like, that I could do to you.'

She was wriggling out of her flimsy trousers as I spoke.

'Right now, I want you to fuck me, Tom,' she said, grabbing a pillow, and pushing it under her arse as she spread her legs out wide. Not being one to keep a lady waiting, I leapt up between her legs, my prick standing out like a barber's pole, and rammed it straight home, deep into her cavernous, eager, hot cunt.

'Oh, Tom,' she cried, 'fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!' 

Her vaginal muscles contracted and pulsed as I rode her, my balls slapping against her arse, and she screamed as an instant orgasm shook her with cyclonic power, only speeding up my already imminent climax. I saw stars and heaven's own beauty as I shot my copious load of hot steaming cum right into the neck of Pauline's womb.

'There,' I said, 'that'll give you something to talk about in the office.'

'My name's not Linda,' she said.

'Don't worry,' I said, 'she'll have plenty of her own to talk about.' 

'Derek will be missing me,' said Pauline, 'and your wife..........'

'Won't give a toss,' I said, 'but I suppose we'd better get back to the festivities.'

By the time we had made ourselves presentable, and returned to the fray, Kathy had announced a break in the music, and people were milling around eating, but neither my wife nor Linda were anywhere to be seen. 

I circulated a little, talking to all kinds of people, but had gravitated to Carol, and her husband, whom I learned was called John, when my wife and Linda put in an appearance, and I was able to introduce Julie, in her spectacular gown, to Carol and John, whose eyes nearly popped out of his head. When she passed him a drink, he was utterly fascinated by the tiny fetishistic chain dangling from her fingernail, and I caught him looking at it again and again. Almost immediately, the music began again, and Kathy now dispensed with the fast stuff, and dimmed the lights, putting on a slow, sensuous rumba. John immediately invited Julie to dance, leaving me with Carol. I took her drink from her, put it down on a table, and took her onto the floor.

'Presumptuous, aren't we?' she said, but she laid her soft honey-blonde hair against my cheek, and the feel of her narrow hips moving to the slow under the silk of her nightgown was incredibly arousing. I felt the inevitable starting to happen again.

'I suppose that's the problem with these parties,' she said, moving slightly away and looking at me.

'Oh?' I said, 'what's that?'

'You can't hide much,' she said, 'can you?'

'I'm sorry, Carol,' I said, 'if you're offended.'

'No,' she said, 'I'm flattered, Tom, but I have to be a little bit careful. Can we talk?'

'Sure,' I said, 'how about a stroll out on to the terrace? It's a nice evening.'

It was unseasonably warm, and Carol and I stood and looked at the night sky, while she unburdened herself about the rich husband she was no longer in love with, the job she had striven hard to get and didn't want to lose by falling foul of office gossip. Then she told me how she had wanted me ever since she had first seen me.

There was, then, nothing for it but to arrange a secret meeting one evening. I wasn't going to be denied at least one good shag with the lovely Carol, if I had to invent a good story.

Before we were missed, we returned to the party, and it started to peter out by about one thirty. It had been a success. As we all got our coats, ordered taxis and got in cars to go home, I once again had my hand squeezed meaningfully by Sue.

'I'm sure we can think up other kinds of party, can't we, Tom?' she said, before she released my hand.

'I should imagine so, Sue, I should certainly imagine so.'

'What do you suppose she meant by that?' asked Julie, who had been stood beside me, on the way home.

'Search me. We'll have to give it some thought.'

'By the way,' she said, 'I've asked John and his wife – what's her name? – to dinner next Wednesday. Hope that's OK by you.'

I pretended indifference, but my mind worked overtime. What was this all about?

On the Monday morning I went straight out on site, and didn't see Carol until the day after, when we passed in the corridor.

'See you at dinner tomorrow night, then,' she said, with an inscrutable smile playing on her lips. I touched her hand as we passed.

I could hardly wait for Wednesday evening to come around, but was a bit apprehensive as to how it would go.

Julie had prepared the meal in advance and taken her time dressing – for John's benefit, I thought. I had to admit she looked good in a short halter-necked backless dress the colour of her green eyes. She had had her hair swept up into a French knot that afternoon, and wore a diamante choker with matching ear-rings. The chain was still in place on her fingernail, and I wondered how she coped with her everyday tasks while it dangled around.

I went for casual, opting for chinos and button-down, and was relieved when I saw that John had gone down the same path. Carol, as ever, looked wonderful, in a cream silk blouse which button up the back, and shiny skin-tight trousers she looked as if she had been poured into. She also wore the highest heels I thought I had ever seen.

When I took her coat, and we were briefly alone, I whispered in her ear, 'God, I don't think I can bear looking at you all evening!'

Surreptitiously, she patted the front of my trousers, and then skipped away. When she moved, her breasts jiggled under the silk blouse. No way was she wearing a bra, and those trousers! Far too tight for anything to be worn underneath. Christ, Tom, I thought, as an instant erection started to grow, control yourself!

Conversation started out, as usual, mundane, but lubricated with wine, and later with liqueurs, became more relaxed, even intimate, as we sat in comfort on the sofa.

Julie, never slow in coming forward, suddenly said, 'Look, you guys, there's a sort of an undercurrent here, isn't there?' She smiled, 'Would it help if we put some music on and danced a bit?'

I went over to the CD unit and put on some Isobel Boulay songs, and Julie immediately held out her hand to John, who wasn't slow in jumping up to take her in his arms. I followed suit with Carol, who moulded her body to me just like at the party.

'Dim the lights a bit, darling,' Julie told me, and I steered Carol over to the switch to do her bidding, plunging the lounge into near-darkness.

She nibbled my ear-lobe, and I responded by pulling the hem of her blouse out of he trousers. She made no effort to stop me. Then, suddenly, I heard her gasp as her sharp, firm, naked breast was cupped in my hand, the nipple hard as a thimble as I tweaked it between thumb and forefinger. She moaned, and whispered, 'Oh Tom, I'm wet through, and want you inside me. We just have to fuck, darling!'

With that, her hand traced my weapon on the outside of my trousers, then felt for my zipper. She was out of control. Anxiously I looked around for Julie and John. They were on the sofa!

'Come on!' I said, and led Carol quietly out of the room, and into the spare room next door. Getting her trousers off was a lot easier than I had thought – they had a long zipper down each side – and she was on the single bed in no time, legs spread wide, both hands toying with puffy labia, as I knelt between her legs, savouring the sight I had so long imagined. She had a lovely, shaven pussy, her pink gash glistening with her secretions, her clit erect and visible as her excitement was clear.

I made her wait, first diving in to lick the whole length off her sweet crack, right from her rubbery clit through to the little ring of her arsehole, which I probed first with my tongue, then with an exploratory finger.

'Ooh,' she said.

'You like that?' I asked.

'I've never..........'

'We will, some time soon,' I promised, and went back to concentrate on her cunt.

'Fuck me, Tom!' she said, grabbing my hair, and pulling me out of her pussy, kissing me wildly on the lips.

I poised myself to enter her, and found her guiding me home with an eager hand, showing me the way as if it were my first time, then her cunt-muscles took over and as if by suction, I felt her natural pulsing action as she drew me in and out, in and out. I had the sensation that it was she who was doing the fucking, not me.

'I'm cumming!' she yelled, 'Oh, fuck. Yes!'

And I almost blacked out as I in turn came in great floods off hot creamy spunk, deep within the gorgeous Carol. 

We lay together for half an hour, satiated, stroking each other, but unable to even speak, until I suggested it was time we went back to join Julie and John.

'I suppose so,' she said, without enthusiasm.

I knocked before we went into the lounge, and Julie had the good grace to laugh when we got there. They were sitting holding hands, he fully dressed, but Julie hadn't bothered putting her dress back on, and merely wore a housecoat she always kept handy.

'Good, you two?' she enquired, without a trace of rancour in her voice. I could say that for Julie, she was never bitter. 

'Terrific,' I said.

'Mmmm,' murmured Carol, 'and you?'

'Wonderful!'

During the next weeks, we had a couple of return invitations, one at their place, then a dinner at a local restaurant. Swapping partners was becoming a way of life with us, though we had never actually discussed it, as such – I guess it was just lucky that there was incredibly strong mutual attraction all around. If anything, Julie and I were enjoying a better sex-life than ever before.

A week after our dinner-date, when we had all come back to our house, Carol walked into my office, checked that nobody was within hearing distance, and told me that John was going away for the weekend, to visit family in Ireland. I told her she should come and stay with us, but she insisted that I spoke first with Julie. That evening I did just that, and she was enthusiastic – more so than I had expected. When I raised my eyebrows, she smiled, 'I like her as well, you know, darling,' she said.

On the Saturday, the two of them went shopping together, and when I came back from a football match, in the afternoon, they were sat together on the sofa, chatting conspiratorially.

'Can anyone join in?' I asked.

'Just girl talk,' said my wife, but she coloured up a bit, so I knew they were discussing something interesting. I looked at the pair of them, and thought what a lucky guy I was, in the full knowledge I was going to fuck them both. Julie had slipped into a loose housedress, made of some pleated synthetic material, with lace around the neck, sleeves and hem. I knew she would be naked underneath it, apart from the waist chain she had taken to wearing. A couple of weeks ago, she had let me take her to have her clit pierced, and now wore a silver ring, from which she delighted in hanging different short chains and charms, saying that their constant movement turned her on while she was going about her everyday tasks.

Carol looked as classy as ever, in a maroon silk button-through dress which might have been Hermés, and staggeringly high heels.

I sat between them and kissed them both.

'Come on,' I said, 'tell!'

'Well,' said Carol, 'you remember your promise to me at the party?'

I looked at her a little puzzled.

'Show him, darling,' said Julie, and Carol stood up in front of us, then bent over from the waist, supporting herself on the arm of the sofa, and looking deliberately behind at me from under her hooded eyelids as she slowly raised her skirt, the silk sliding up her long thighs until her rounded buttocks were on view. She parted her legs and I could see a yellow cord hanging lewdly out of her anus. Reaching behind, she took it between thumb and forefinger and offered it to me.

'Pull!' she instructed, and I took hold of the cord, and, with an audible 'plop' a bright yellow ball the size of a ping-pong ball emerged, to a sort of cross between a gasp and a moan from Carol. I pulled some more and another ball appeared, and, when the third sphere put in an appearance, Julie had her fingers deep into Carol's slit. She moaned rhythmically now, and said, 'slowly, Tom, oh, oh! Oh, Carol, fuck me with your finger, yes, yes, please, yes, oh, I'm cumming, yes!!!'

As I dragged the last of the five balls from her arsehole, she collapsed on the sofa, and I had an erection like a stallion. Expertly, Julie, whipped my cock out of my trousers, and took me deep into her throat. I came in great spurting gushes, while Carol stroked my balls.

After we had all recovered a while, Julie announced she was going to grill us all a nice big entrecote steak, and make some salad. 'We need to get our strength back!' she said.

After we had eaten and listened to some music, we decided it was time to go to bed, and the idea of sleeping other than all three in the same bed never crossed our minds.

I usually slept naked, but preferred Julie in something sexy. She knew too, and she and Carol both donned nightgowns. Julie wore a red transparent baby-doll nightie with matching open-crotch panties, while Carol was stunning in a diaphanous long white gown through which every detail of her body was visible. I got them both to dance for me for a while before they climbed into bed, and had another huge stalk by the time they had finished.

'It's Carol's night, above all, Tom,' said Julie, 'she wants to lose her virginity, in a sense.'

Carol giggled nervously at that, and made to turn out the light, but Julie stopped her.

'Come on, darling,' she told her, 'I'm going to offer you up to Tom, like a sacrifice.'

Julie led Carol to the bed, and made her kneel on the firm mattress, then pushed two cushions under her flat stomach. She pulled up her nightgown, leaving it up around her waist, then produced a tube of KY jelly from the bedside table, smearing some around Carol's virgin anus.

'She's ready!' she said.

I was certainly ready, and knelt behind her, first pushing my eager tool briefly into the warm, wet, inviting depths of her cunt.

'Oooh!' she moaned, but I withdrew immediately, and pushed at the very portals of her arsehole, knowing that this tiny hole had so recently accommodated five huge balls.

'Mmmm,' she moaned, as I entered the beginnings of her passage to heaven.

I shoved harder.

'Oh, oh, no, I can't take it!' she cried, and I slapped her right buttock hard, leaving a handprint.

'Yes you can,' I said, and gave a heave as I thrust past her anal sphincter and felt her velvet tube take me into its smooth, hot paradise.

She was in agony, but now knew where it met with ecstasy, and I felt her cum with a shuddering groan, suddenly aware that Julie had somehow contrived to be licking her cunt while I fucked her arsehole. The knowledge was the last straw, and I stiffened and came without warning, filling her bowels in a new sensation with my creamy spunk.

Before the night was through, I gave Julie the long, slow fuck she needed, while Carol slept beside us.

In the morning I left them enjoying each others' bodies while I made breakfast, then we all went off for a picnic. The weekend had been a success.

JULIE AGAIN

I suppose we had grown out of the sort of parties where people just fancy one another, and the inevitable step needed to be taken.

John and Carol were in our lounge one evening, when John, who wasn't normally one for original ideas, said, 'Any thoughts about more parties, Julie?'

'I hadn't really given it much thought, I admitted, 'why?'

'Why not a swapping party?'

We all looked at him.

'Went to one once, wanted a lawn-mower for mine, but nobody had one,' said Tom.

I threw a cushion at him, but it broke the tension.

'I think it would be exciting,' I said, 'problem is, just how many suitable people can we find?'

'Far as I'm concerned,' chipped in Tom, 'problem is, quite simply, I don't fancy spending the night with some smelly old dog, or getting a dose of clap.'

Tom had, as ever, reduced things to their most basic level, voicing what we no doubt all feared. We decided to give it some thought.

Several days later, on the Saturday morning, Carol came to see me, just as I was getting ready to go out.

'I'll buy you a coffee,' she said, and we trotted off together to Starbuck's.

Once seated with our lattes, she outlined her idea.

'We do a pyramid job on it,' she said, 'but strictly limited. We all must know at least one other couple we suspect would be interested. Let's work on them, get them to work on another, and so on. I think we'll get a couple of dozen couples like that, don't you?'

I was a bit sceptical, but immediately thought about Tom's friend Steve. He'd told me Sue had the hots for him, and I went weak at the knees just thinking about Steve. They'd been to dinner with us only the week before, and I knew Sue and Tom had played footsie under the table all through the meal. When we got home, he'd fucked my brains out, before we'd ever got to bed.

We parted after having agreed to give it a try, settling on Carol's house as a venue, as they had plenty of room, and not many inquisitive neighbours. 

When I told Tom what we had decided, he was more sceptical than I was, saying that he didn't think men would feel like going around asking their mates to let somebody else fuck their wives. He had a point, and I saw then that we women were the ones who would have to do the inviting.

I printed up some invitations to hand around, only after the respective wives had been chatted up. I would hand several copied to Sue when I had her lined up, as I was pretty sure I should, and I emailed a copy to Carol.

INVITATION

YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND/PARTNER ARE INVITED

TO A PARTY WITH NO LIMITATIONS UPON YOUR LIBIDO

Drugs will not be consumed

Dress: sexy!

The date and the address were appended.

During the next week I spoke with Sue, and she said she couldn't wait. She said she could also recruit her next door neighbour, who she said was a 'dirty bitch.' When I looked a bit worried at that she laughed, and said, 'No, not literally, she's a doctor, but she's randy, and her husband's a hunk.'

Carol, meantime, had talked with Pauline, who said she would be there, with husband

Derek ('God help the poor cow who draws him!' she said) and she had also found another keen partygoer, with a wide circle of friends, at her computer-club.

In the end, when we finalised the list, with a week to go, we had twenty two couples lined up, which seemed fine. We had to decide on a format, and we both thought the old key-on-the-table business was 'old hat.' We also agreed that we couldn't just leave everybody to choose their own swap. That way, Tom would slope off with Sue, poor old Derek would be left with the last woman there, etc. No, at least for the first time, we had to make it a bit of a lottery. 

'We'll do just that!' I said, 'each girl can have a number, and the guys draw them out of the hat.'

Carol thought it a great laugh, and suggested we had a couple of hours' dancing – good and sexy, as she put it – first.

When I told Tom what we had decided, he wasn't at all pleased – he had set his dirty stinking heart on shagging Sue, I knew – but accepted the decision in good grace in the end.

The evening came around, and I took my usual care dressing, even though I wasn't going to be wearing very much. Sat naked in front of my mirror, I rouged my nipples, which were going to be visible through the black fishnet top I slipped on. When I touched them, they obediently stood to attention, as they always did. I clipped a silver chain a couple of inches long, with a little diamond clasped in the end, to my clit-ring, cinched a heavy silver chain around my waist, put in long silver ear-rings, and clasped a tight silver amulet around my left arm above the bicep. Earlier I had made sure that I again had my fingernail decoration in place. For the evening I had decided on a long black silk skirt, so tight around my ankles that I could hardly walk. Carol had helped me buy it, and said she thought it was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. I wore high stilettos, with metal heels, as usual. I had never felt more erotic or available in my life, and the knowledge that I was going to be fucked by a complete stranger made me fear for the damp patch I might be making, and thank heavens I had chosen black.




Our Parties Ch. 02



We arrived at for Carol's, and her long driveway was already chocked up with cars, so we parked out on the street. I hobbled in to be greeted by our hostess for the evening, looking wonderful, her already-narrow waist cinched in by a black satin whale-boned corset, the top of which thrust her small breasts upwards. She had covered them with a loose white organdie blouse, which concealed nothing. Around her hips was tied a long, full, matching skirt, under which she appeared to be wearing a garter-belt and black, seamed stockings. Like myself, she wore stilettos. Looking at her made me wet, so God alone knew what it was doing to the men!

Looking around the gathering, those that were there already, and newcomers as they arrived, and nervously gave up their outer garments, I stopped being worried about the outcome of the party – it was going to be alright!

After a drink or two, Carol put on some music, and suggested we may like to dance. A couple of rock numbers saw Carol and me the only takers, so I whispered to her that as it was that kind of party, she might consider slow music and dim lights, which always worked well at Kathy's. She concurred.

In no time at all, I was being pulled out of my seat by Steve, and Tom was out of his like greased lightning, grabbing Sue, who, as far as I could see, wore a long white lace tube dress and nothing else.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the floor was getting crowded. Someone I had never clapped eyes on before had his hand up Pauline's tiny miniskirt, and a black girl with huge tits had John in her suffocating clutches – he seemed not to mind. I returned to my own enjoyment, and Steve's breathing was faster than normal as his hands pulled my buttocks in towards him, and I writhed and squirmed against his pikestaff of an erection.

'Take it easy, Julie, or I'll cum right now,' he whispered in my ear.

'Oh Steve,' I replied, 'some time very soon, if you don't draw my number tonight......'

I let the sentence hang.

'Oh yes,' he said, 'don't you worry, we will!'

I allowed him to cool down a bit, and then we sat down and had a drink. I danced once or twice more, but not with anybody who did for me what Steve did.

After a break for food, Carol announced the lottery, and asked all the girls to go with her into the kitchen. Eleven of us gathered there, while the eleven guys sat around with their drinks.

She had prepared a bold clip-on number for each of us – mine was number 8 – and we all looked at her in surprise, even I, as we hadn't gone into detail about this.

'Ok, ladies,' she said, 'let's go and put on a little show. Just a little dance each, to let them know what they might be getting, then we draw lots.'

'Oh shit,' said Pauline, at once, 'I can't dance to save my life!'

Several others muttered similar sentiments, but Carol said, 'Balls, I'll go first. If you can't do anything else, just parade up and down a bit, flash your arse or something, use your imagination!'

Before anybody else could object, she strode out, went straight over to the CD, and put on a low, sensuous number, at high volume, to get everybody's attention.

She sauntered into the middle of the floor, displaying her number 1.

She stroked her body to the music, pushing up her blouse, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger, as she licked her lips. Then she smoothed one side of her skirt slowly up her long leg, up past the lacy top of her black stocking, to the white flesh above, slowly revealing the naked expanse where panties would have been visible, had she worn any. Without revealing any more, she slowly let her skirt down, and beckoned to number 2 to take her place.

Number 2 was obviously Asian, or at least had sub-continental blood. With dark olive skin, almost black eyes, a mane of jet-black hair down to her waist, she had the lithe grace that only women of her racial origins seem to possess. She wore a tight white cocktail-dress, mid-thigh length, with white stockings and white high heels. The lace-tops of her stockings came into view as she teasingly hitched up the skirt of her dress just slightly, and a tantalising glimpse of the olive skin above was there. This one was all tease, I thought, as she reached behind her, lowered the zipper of her dress, then when it reached her waist, showing no bra-strap beneath, dragged it back up again.

Good God, I thought, I must be a closet lesbian, at least in part – I knew then I wanted number 2 as much as any man!

The show went on. Pauline somehow managed to put on a respectable display. I had a bit of difficulty moving around because of the tightness of my skirt, but played around with my tits a bit, and that seemed to go down well enough.

When the time came for the draw, Carol had it all organised, of course, and called for 'number 2' who I learned was, in fact, her neighbour the doctor, and was called Shireen, to pull out the numbers.

'I've put all the guys' names in the hat,' said Carol, 'and Shireen will pull them out in order, so the first one out will be the unlucky sod who will get me, second will get Shireen, and so on. Anybody gets their partner, back in the hat! – What you do from then on is up to you – OK?' 

'Go for it!' somebody yelled, and Carol grinned, 'Down, boy!'

Shireen looked around and glanced at Carol for approval, then dipped a hand into the hat. 

'Carol gets.........James,' she announced, and I looked around to see a young blond guy being slapped on the back by two mates. He looked pleased.

Shireen was eagerly dipping in again. 

'And I get........Tom,' she said.

'Lucky, lucky bastard!' I mouthed at him.

So the lottery went on, a lot of people I hardly knew being involved, then it was my turn.

'And number 8 gets........Phil,' she announced. 

I looked around, having no idea who Phil was, and saw a tall, bespectacled, studious-looking guy smiling crookedly in my direction. His wife, or girl-friend, whatever, was a rather gothic-looking blonde with spiky hair and a lot of piercings. I didn't really like the look of him. Still, it was partly my idea, after all, so I'd have to give it a go.

Carol had suggested that everybody should have a dance in their chosen couplings, so that they could decide whether to slope off together, or just avail themselves of one of Carol's spare rooms for a 'quickie.' She announced as much, then put on more slow music.

I sought out Phil, and introducing myself to him, was greeted by a nervous nod and a peck on the cheek. He held me a trifle distantly as we danced, I thought, looking at me intently. Under the specs, I thought, he wasn't at all bad-looking, but odd, certainly.

'I've watched you all evening,' he said, as we danced, 'I hoped I'd draw you.'

'I'm flattered,' I said, and he returned a lop-sided grin.

When the music finished, he shepherded me back to my seat in a gentlemanly fashion, and we finished our drinks.

'Your place or mine?' I asked, realising I sounded rather brazen.

'Mine,' he replied decisively, to my surprise – he didn't seem a very decisive type.

We collected our coats, and I threw our car-keys to Tom.

'Lucky bastard!' I mouthed to him, as our paths crossed, and he flipped me a rude gesture that nobody else saw.

I took Phil's arm, and we went out to his car – I was surprised to see it was a late model Audi – and he opened the door for me, again the perfect gentleman.

He drove to his home in silence. I didn't feel like starting up a conversation, but once I caught him angling the rear-view mirror to look at me.

His home was a large detached house in the outskirts of town, and he parked casually outside the front porch, and came around to open my door. He led the way into an elegant hallway, and through into a huge lounge, where he threw his coat off and sprawled down onto an armchair.

'Take a seat, Julie,' he said, indicated another chair facing the one he occupied, 'can I offer you a drink?'

Before I could answer he had pressed a buzzer beside his chair and, to my intense surprise, I heard the clatter of footsteps. The door by which we had entered opened, and in walked a very pretty girl of Asian appearance, dressed in maid's uniform, a short black mini-dress, frilly white apron, black seamed stockings and black patent heels.

'Get me a whisky, Suzy, will you, and.........?'

'Same for me, with ice,' I said, 'please.'

She was back in no time with the drinks, and I was left wondering what her working hours might be, as it was past midnight, but Phil was now looking at me in his odd way.

'I have noticed that you are interested in restraint,' he said, 'would I be right?'

I didn't know how to answer him – hadn't really given it any thought – but yes, I supposed I liked wearing very tight skirts, and revelled in the discomfort I got from the chains which decorated my clit, my fingernail, my ears.........I also liked the feeling of very high stilettos. But then so did lots of women.

'I can see you're thinking about it, Julie,' he said.

'Yes,' I said, 'but I don't know why I like it, I guess I'm confused.'

'I have slightly unusual tastes,' he said, and he had me worried, which must have shown in my face.

'Don't worry,' he laughed, 'if you are unhappy with anything I ask you to do, we stop, and I call you a taxi home immediately, OK?'

'OK.'

'Now undress for me, please.'

I stood and reached behind me, unbuttoning my fishnet top, then shrugging it off. I had to bend right down, my breasts jiggling loose to reach the zipper of my skirt, and pull it right the way up the whole length of my legs. In no time, then, I was completely naked, save for my stilettos, my heavy silver waist chain, and the fine chain which dangled from my clit. I walked slowly towards him.

'Do you like what you see?' I asked him.

'Quite charming,' he said, 'but come with me!'

He took my hand and let me to an old-fashioned Welsh dresser.

'If you are really into restraint,' he said, 'these are for you, my dear, and palmed something out of a drawer. He grabbed my right nipple between thumb and forefinger, and I cried out in anguish as He tweaked it hard, and then, deftly, he had suddenly fitted a tiny ornate silver clamp onto my nipple, and was screwing it down tight.

'Oh, oh,' I cried, 'Phil, that hurts, so much.'

'Hush,' he said, and, ignoring my cries, repeated the dose on my left tit.

I felt the twin sensation of agony and something else, something new, something I was horribly sure he saw in my eyes, because there was now a twinkle in his, and he put his hand down to my pussy, stopping just a moment to flick my chain, saying, 'Nice detail, that!'

What I had no control over, however, was the inexorable wetness which invaded me. I wanted to put it down to the whole atmosphere of the evening, my sexy clothing, the sight of all those beautiful people............but I knew, really, that this man's presence, the nipple-clamps, the promise of what he might do to me was exciting me beyond control. He felt my sopping crack, and looked hard into my eyes.

'You're ready,' he said, and it wasn't a request, but I had misunderstood.

'Yes,' I said.

'Kneel on the sofa,' he told me, and I quickly got down on all fours, thinking he was wanting to take me from behind.

'No,' he said, 'put your arms over the back, and kneel up on the seat.'

Puzzled, I did as he told me, and heard him open a cupboard.

Without warning, there was a swishing noise and a 'thwack!' as I felt an awful sting across the tender naked flesh of my upper back.

'Hey,' I yelled, 'that fucking hurt!'

'Quiet!' he said, softly, 'and you will only get six.'

Then, 'thwack,' again, as the thin leather paddle struck a bit lower, reddening my back, and causing me to squirm on the sofa.

'Thwack,' again, and I now felt the agony of his strokes mingling with a welling up of passion deep in the upper regions of my vagina.

When I moaned as his fourth blow struck my lower back, my orgasm was almost upon me, and I barely heard him ask me if I could take two more.

'Oh yes, yes, yes, please!' somebody said – it must have been me. And a massive climax carried me over the threshold to paradise.

As he finished, I pleaded with him to fuck me, and pulled him on top of me, now dominating him mercilessly, gripping him between my legs, pulling his ready shaft into my soaked cunt. He growled as I raked his back with my nails, and when I rammed a finger hard up his arsehole, he shot his creamy hot load deep within me.

He buzzed for Suzy against my protests, and she rubbed soothing balm into my back, then we all sat down with cups off cocoa to watch a late film. 

I, at least, voted the party a success. 

TOM

God, I had a stroke of luck, drawing the gorgeous Shireen! When we danced, she moulded herself to me like a second skin, and an exploration of her body through the tightness of her silky white dress failed to reveal any evidence of underwear.

When we sat down to finish our drinks, he skirt rode up enough to reveal the lacy top of her white stockings, and just a sliver of olive skin above that.

'Come on, Shireen, shall we go?' I said.

'In a hurry?' she teased.

'Do I need to answer that?'

Julie threw me the car keys, and swore at me as she made her way out with this nerdy-looking guy – I wondered if she was in for an exciting evening with his Play-Station.

When we got home, I had to have a pee, and when I came out of the downstairs loo, Shireen was nowhere to be seen. I looked in the lounge, and in the kitchen, before realising she had gone upstairs.

When I opened the bedroom door, there she was, her black hair spread out all around her, stark naked on the bed, save for her stilettos, and ankle-chain. She had a lovely, neat, shaven pussy, with dark, magenta labia, which she was holding apart with two fingers of one hand, as if for my inspection, the pink of her slit glistening within.

I left my trousers on the floor, and jumped onto the bed, making a bee-line for her delectable crack. Her clit was prominent, standing proud of its protecting hood, and when I flicked it with my tongue, she gave voice to a little 'ooh' – then I plunged my tongue deep into her sweet cunt and drank from her, loving the pungent taste of her, as I drove a finger deep into her arsehole. 

'Oh, Tom,' she said, 'my husband never takes me there. And I so much want it. Please will you?'

I turned her over, and when I shoved a pillow under her, she obediently spread her legs, and I felt her anus with my finger, suddenly knowing that she had come prepared, prelubricated. The knowledge was somehow even more exciting, and my cock was as stiff as it had ever been when I started to push my way into the delicious tightness of her velvet passage. As soon as I was a few centimetres in her, her natural peristalsis seemed to seize me, pull me further within her warm, succulent depths. I forced my way past her sphincter, and she cried out in agony and ecstasy. Feeling the wetness of her cunt as I reached my fullest length within her, and feeling her violent shudder, I knew she had cum, but I was only just beginning and determined to make it last. I cupped her firm breasts as I drove in and out of her sheathing tunnel, and she came again before I could hold on no longer and came copiously somewhere deep within her bowels.

When we had lain together for a long time, I fucked her again, conventionally this time, long, slow strokes, banging my balls against her arse at each extremity, kissing her lovely mouth all the while, and stroking the whole length of her magnificent body. 

It had been quite a party.