tagLoving WivesFriends with Janice Ch. 01

Friends with Janice Ch. 01

byspider007©

The Characters:

Dan and Janice

Friends: Robert, Jake, William, and Glen


*

My name is Janice. I married Dan when I was 18 and he was 21 and we have been married for six years. We plan having a family later but in the meantime enjoy a very active sex life unrestrained by rug rats. I was a virgin and unfamiliar with sex until I met and got engaged to Dan at 17. Dan was sexually active since he was 15 so had five years of experience on me. He has taught me most of what I know and I'm now a torrid sex enthusiast and think a hard cock is the most beautiful thing in the world.

Dan is a lean but fit and very strong at 6'-3" and 190 pounds. He started his own plumbing supply business a few years ago and he is also a volunteer fireman. I'm petite at 5'-4" with auburn hair, green eyes, a fit and shapely body (if I don't say so myself), and 38C breasts. Girls my height are likely to have 34-inch busts, which means my breasts stick out almost two inches more than normal. Plus, almost all 38-inch busts have D cups that look like balloons. Mine is a firm and statuesque C cup that looks more like a phallic symbol and attracts a lot of attention when I'm out in public. I don't solicit the attention but do like how my simply walking down the street can excite men so much, especially if my normal 3/8-inch nipples grow to their excited ¾ inch length and are poking through a tight sweater. My nipples are like pencil erasures with a lot of the pencil still attached. My husband also likes the way his wife can turn heads -- makes him feel proud.

One Sunday a couple of weeks back was typical. Dan invited four of his friends to spend the afternoon and evening watching NFL football: Robert, who is married, Glen who has a steady girlfriend, and Jake and William who have no particular attachments. Dan is the only fireman of the bunch but they all spend time together watching football, downing a few beers at the local pub, and working out at the gym. I like football and join them watching the game, though I only watch maybe 25% of the playing time. Mostly I keep them (and me) filled with beer and serve them snacks and munchies and let them enjoy their male bonding.

Dan likes to spice things up by having me dress without a bra in a tight little football jersey that is cut off just below my breasts and displays my bare midriff and prominent tits and nipples. I compliment that with a short flared miniskirt, or sometimes, if I feel particularly daring or Dan is especially perverted, with tight tiny pink hot pants. Dan selected these clothes especially for his Sunday get together. He enjoys how I can turn the guys on and distract them from the game, and I admit I get turned on a little myself doing it. There is always a lot of flirtatious behavior with the guys peppering me with suggestive remarks. I don't discourage them when I play along, like rubbing up against them and bending over to show more cleavage as I serve them drinks, and maybe throwing in a flirt of my own like saying in a coquettish voice, "Are you sure there isn't anything else I can get for you... anything at all?"

Dan encourages me, sometimes aloud, like telling me to 'shake my bootie' when I walk into the kitchen, or sometimes whispering in my ear, "You're doing a great job, babe. I don't think they're much interested in the game anymore..." We all keep our cool, however, and it never goes beyond the flirty behavior with the minor exceptions of a few pats and squeezes on my ass as the evening wears on.

This past Sunday started routinely with Dan and his four friends here to watch the games. I fixed hors d'oeuvres and snacks and made sure the beer was cold and plentiful. As usual I spent some time with the guys watching the game, but mostly stayed out of their way futzing about in the kitchen and generally keep things picked up and clean, and making sure the men were well stocked with brew. I made sure I had my share, too. I was dressed unusual this day in a rather plain miniskirt and a man's shirt with two buttons undone... no..., two are slightly less than conservative and it takes four to be really naughty, so I unbuttoned a third which is risqué and more likely to get a man's attention without being bad. I had very little make-up on, nor did I do anything special with my hair other than tie it into a quick ponytail. That was a bit sneaky since I have found, for some strange reason, a flipping ponytail excites a man more than any other hairdo.

This Sunday took a different turn when Dan's pager beeped during the 1st quarter. He immediately picked up the phone, dialed the speed-call number, listened to the information, grabbed his jacket and gloves and dashed out the door -- all within a New York minute -- stopping only to say good-bye to us and quickly say something to Robert. His going to a fire always makes me anxious though I keep it to myself. I never know if he will be gone for 15 minutes or 15 hours... or possibly forever. Six to eight hours is the norm -- two or three to fight the fire and the rest to clean up afterwards. But I try to take it in stride, as do his friends who are quite used to it.

I noticed a couple of empty beers and went to the fridge to get some more for the guys. Robert came right up behind me so that our bodies were lightly touching and said, "I see your getting beers. I was going to get my own to help out."

"Thanks," I said, "but that's all right. I'll get them for everybody.... If you give me a little breathing room."

"Oh! I'm sorry. Didn't mean to interfere," he said. Then added, "I bet Dan would not like me standing this close, would he?"

"Probably not," I replied as he stepped back.

He added with a chuckle, "I know I wouldn't if I were him."

Robert returned to the TV room followed by me with two beers. "Everybody else O.K. for now?" I asked.

"For the moment," they answered. I returned to my futzing about in the kitchen setting up a tray of chicken wings. After a few minutes, unbeknownst to me, Robert returned and stood right behind me. As he touched me I let out a surprised "OH!" He said, "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted you to know we need a couple of more beers."

"It's O.K," I said. "Just give me a little room and I'll get the beers."

Robert interjected, without backing up, "Oh, I'm standing too close again aren't I? Where it would make Dan angry?" Not waiting for an answer he went on, "I bet he REALLY wouldn't like this, then," and kissed me lightly on the neck. Again, before I could get my answer out, he placed his open lips on my ear and whispered, "Would he?"

I was involuntarily angry, a tad flustered and surprised. Robert came right out of left field and I didn't know how to react. My conscience told me to react more strongly but I also wanted to be civil and friendly, so I just stood there nonplussed. I simply said softly, "No, he probably wouldn't."

He backed up to give me room and I let it all pass, though I have to admit that there was a slight tingle in me. I went again to the fridge and pulled out two bottles. "Here, let me help," Robert said and reached for the bottles. He took the bottles from my hands and managed to run his fingertips down my lower arm, wrist and fingers in the process. I didn't know if that was deliberate or simply accidental, and I didn't know if it should annoy me or not. But it did feel good and kept the tingling for a second.

The game was in the 2nd quarter and I was finishing up the tray of goodies. Robert (who else??) came in the kitchen to inspect the chicken wings. He commented, "Those look great. They're making me hungry. Do they taste as good as they look?"

"Yes, I think so." I answered.

"You haven't taste tested them yet?" Robert said as he picked up a wing and held it up to my mouth. "Here, take a bite." I reached for the wing but Robert said, "I'll hold it. Just take a bite and tell me how it is." My thought process was still lagging Robert's so I took a small bite of the wing. "Eat it all to be sure," he said. I nibbled the rest of the meat off the wing.

"Yes, that is very good, if I may say so," I said

"Great," he exclaimed. "Don't let any go to waste," he added as he stuck his two fingers that were holding the wing in my mouth before I knew it. "Get it all. Suck them clean," he commanded with a subtle emphasis on 'suck'. Like a non-thinking robot I automatically licked the chicken juice and spices off his fingers. "Very good," he commented as his eyes focused on my mouth's finger sucking motion. "Let's eat!"

I brought the chicken wings and a second tray of munchies into the family room just as the first half was ending. I said I would get everyone a fresh brew and went back to the kitchen. Robert (Surprise! Surprise!) came along to help but this time did just that -- carrying two while I handled three beers, including my second. I sat with them to socialize during halftime, and we munched, drank and chatted. Glen commented that he knew how much time Dan spent fighting fires and that it must get tiresome and annoying. I responded, "No, it's not tiresome. I know that's what Dan does and I'm used to it. It's not really annoying but can be inconvenient. He's on call 24/7 and a call can come anytime. Sometimes just at dinner time or just after going to bed can be inconvenient."

"Yeah, I'll bet those calls just after bedtime are very inconvenient," Robert chimed in.

"Yeah, it can get in the way," I commented, the double entendre going right over my head. The others didn't miss it though. They snickered at each other and I blushed just a little.

"Bet he has to grab and put on more than his fire jacket and gloves when that happens," William chuckled. That brought more snickers and a couple of guffaws, and just a little more redness to my face. William continued, "Do you have to help him get dressed to save time?"

Still playing it straight, as I knew no other way, I replied, "No. He can do that fast enough without me getting in the way. Sometimes I do go downstairs and round up his jacket and gloves as he is getting dressed to help a little."

"Do you give him a kiss good-bye?" asked William.

"No, but I do always wish him luck as he walks out the door," I answered.

Jake chimed in. "I'm getting quite a picture in my mind. Dan scurrying around like the firehouse gang at eleven at night and Janice standing on the stoop in her short little Teddy handing him his fire jacket and gloves wishing him luck as he charges off. I assume you have a Teddy on.... or at least something!"

"Stop! You guys are embarrassing me. Of course I have something on... usually my regular night shirt," I interjected, quickly realizing that last comment wasn't necessary.

Jake added, "Even that makes quite a pretty picture.... Though in my mind I can't picture how short a nightshirt is nor what it covers... or doesn't cover." A roomful of chuckles and laughter followed.

"O.K, guys. Let's get back to the real world of football, chicken wings and beer," I interrupted. As I was talking Robert strolled over to me, bent over and whispered in my ear, "I bet Dan would really really be angry if he knew we were talking to and thinking about you this way." He backed away and added with a smile, "Do ya think?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," I answered, looking for a throwaway line to put a stop to this. It worked. Everyone returned to their seats and resumed eating, drinking and talking football. "Though I'm not sure that I appreciate it," I added.

"Oh! Janice sweetie! Don't get us wrong. We don't mean to offend. We're just funnin' with you as friends," Robert explained. The others expressed agreement.

"Huummm," I responded, bit on a chicken wing, took a couple of heavy swigs of my beer, and, without giving it any thought, slouched down in my easy chair allowing my miniskirt to ride up a bit and expose a little more thigh.

"Does your nightshirt cover more than that?" Jake inquired with a chuckle.

"No, it doesn't," I responded kindly and pulled my skirt down.

"Sure would like to see that," Jake continued.

"I bet you would," I smiled.

The 3rd quarter had started and the guys were engrossed in what I presume from their boisterousness was a good game. I finished my beer, went to the kitchen, opened another, and started straightening up. Robert called out, "Hey! Sweetie! Would you bring a couple of cold ones for some thirsty guys?"

"Comin' right up," I replied and put four bottles on a serving tray. I walked up beside Robert and offered him the tray.

He grabbed a bottle with his left hand and slipped his right arm around my waist and gave it a light squeeze. "Thank ya darlin'. I hate to put you out but appreciate the service," he commented. I was about to respond when two of the guys hollered and yelled, "Wow! Look at that play." The TV got everyone's rapt attention. Except Robert's arm stayed around my waist. And while he focused intently on the screen, his hand started to lightly rub me in a circular motion -- up my side and down to the tops of my butt cheeks. I wasn't sure what to do or what I could do while holding a tray full of beer bottles. "Did you see that?" He asked me excitedly as he turned toward me. He removed his arm, maybe hoping I would think it an absent-minded move, but when his hand patted my ass two or three times as he retracted his arm, I thought otherwise. I was flummoxed over whether he was really funnin' or hittin' on me.

I said nothing and delivered the rest of the beers. Jake took his and said, "I don't suppose you decided to model that nightshirt for us, have you?"

"No, silly," I answered.

"'Course there's no way for us to tell if it covers less than your skirt unless you show us.... And like The Enquirer, we really want to know," he went on.

"Sure there is. I can tell you," I parried.

"But where's the fun in that?" he came back. "It would make a super-duper waitress' outfit! Every bit as good as your jersey and hot pants!"

"Well you'll probably just have to picture it in your mind," I joshed, and realized that was not a terribly strong negative. What did I mean by 'probably'? I returned to messing in the kitchen, polished off my beer and opened what would be my fourth and took three big gulps.

Robert came up behind me again. "Wouldn't Dan get upset with all that beer you're drinking like he would about all the things we have been doing?" As he was talking he nonchalantly started rubbing my ass with one of his hands, this time not so subtly.

"He doesn't care if I have a few beers. You should know that," I answered, inexplicably ignoring his squeezing my ass.

"I bet he wouldn't like my touching you though, would he?" Robert went on.

I turned my head to face him and said, "Probably not." There was that 'probably' again! What the hell is that about, I thought.

But as I turned my head to answer he caught me by surprise and said, "Then he really wouldn't like this," and kissed me on the lips. Somewhere in the corners of my mind something was saying "danger", but my mind was going much slower than Robert was moving. Before I could formulate a response his lips opened mine and his tongue massaged my inner lips and played with my tongue... and his hand pulled my ass tight into his body. While I was still trying to figure out what was happening -- let alone a response -- his kiss lingered persistently. His lips puckered against mine, his tongue entwined with mine, and his hand squeezed and massaged my ass while pressing my crotch tightly against his thigh for what seemed like a good 30 seconds. My mind just got more muddled as I experienced his ministrations.

He leaned his head back and said softly, "See. A little friendly kiss never hurt anyone. I don't think Dan would be angry over one little smooch... but he might be angry with two," and laid another sloppy french kiss on me, pulling my crotch even tighter into his leg and rotating his leg ever so slightly around it. While my brain was trying to get oriented, he kept on with his kiss -- longer than 30 seconds this time.

"My! My! My! What have we here?" Jake intoned as he came in the kitchen for another beer. "Just a little kiss among friends," said Robert as he broke the kiss and turned to Jake -- and gave my ass a final heavy squeeze.

"Yes, just a friendly kiss," I concurred, embarrassingly gasping for breath and having no idea why I said that.

"You make it sound so friendly," Jake laughed while I stood there still trying to get my brain in gear but instead looked more like a deer caught in the headlights, which would have given them the wrong signal that my conscience was trying to send. But maybe my subconscious was thinking of a different signal. After all they were friends, not strangers, all quite handsome with lean bodies and tight butts.... except William who was broad shouldered and very muscular with his pecs and upper arms bulging against his tight shirt -- I bet he could really ravish a girl I thought idly. My reverie was broken when Jake walked up to me and in a blink of an eye laid a kiss on me as he said, "I'm you friend, too, Janice honey." He did not embrace me and only his lips touched me, but he played footsie, so to speak, with my tongue. Robert kept rubbing, squeezing and pushing my ass as Jake ate my lips. Jake finally broke the kiss and commented, "Wow! What a super friendly kiss. That was nice." He went on, "C'mon. The game is all tied in the 4th quarter. It's going to be a good ending no matter who you are rooting for."

Robert and Jake returned to the TV and just left me standing in a daze at the kitchen sink. Now my brain finally gets in gear and asks, "What the hell are you doing?" "I dunno," I replied out loud to my brain. I just stood there for a minute, then swigged down the last of my beer, opened my fifth, sashayed into the family room, grabbed a seat and asked what the score was -- as if I gave a damn. "24 to 21." William replied.

As I sat in a sprawl in the chair William and Glen came over to me and each gave me a peck on my lips. "Heard all friends were kissing," they both chuckled, and headed back to their seats.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Robert shouted. "What the hell was that? That wasn't a friend kiss... that was a stranger kiss. That was an insult. You guys go apologize and give her a bona fide friend kiss."

William walked over to me and said, "I'm sorry, Janice. I didn't mean to offend." And as I sat there with my mind still s_l_o_w_l_y trying to assess everything, he grabbed my head with both hands, pressed his lips to mine, opened my lips, rotated his lips around mine, and darted his tongue in and out of my mouth. He broke the kiss in about 15 seconds. Glen was right behind him. He took my hands in his, stood me up, and gave me a wet french kiss as he embraced me around my backside. He kissed and sucked my lips and, without my giving it any thought, my tongue, on its own, returned the kiss and darted in and out of his mouth. He held me tighter, swayed a little bit, and pressed his lips to mine harder and with urgency. That kiss lasted more than 30 seconds.

I thought, being totally objective and scientific, that it was a wonderful kiss. On the other hand, being completely subjective and emotional, I repeated my brain's question to my self, "What the hell is happening here?!?" But all I said was, "Yeah, I guess all friends have now kissed."

I chugged half of my 5th beer hoping to regain my senses when Glen complained, "We showed her how friendly we are, but she won't be totally friendly to us."

Robert came to my defense and asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Glen continued, "All we wanted was a little friendly competition among us betting on whether her nightshirt does or does not cover more of her than what she has on. But she said 'no.' How unfriendly is that?" Glen has a point the other three admitted.

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