Liza's Debt

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Liza sees Sam naked & must reciprocate.
5.6k words
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shyones
shyones
81 Followers

This was the part I hated most, the culmination of hours spent in sheer dread. It began with the doorbell. Marc stopped what he was doing and gave me a smile, or was it a mischievous grin? I sat up straight, jolted by the sound we'd both been expecting.

"They're here," he said.

I stood and began walking slowly to the door behind him. I had to greet them, too. It's expected of the hostess, after all. My light, summer dress played against my thighs, just inches below my moistening pussy. The fabric brushed my hardening nipples. My body responded to the fear that now replaced the dread. Marc opened the door.

"Come on in. How ya doing?" he greeted them.

"Hi," I echoed, smiling and sounding sincere.

Sam and Jake returned our greetings and handed me a twelve-pack of beer. Sam pecked me on the cheek, and then Jake did the same. I was a little surprised by their forwardness, but their breath was warm and sweet smelling, so I didn't mind. I even used the opportunity to steal glances at their youthful, muscular frames. Though they were only five years younger than Marc and I, their eighteen years seemed downright pubescent. They struck me as young and inexperienced when we first meet them yesterday, and those boyish looks were still there today, though I may have detected a manly leer.

Sam and Jake had summer jobs with the furniture rental company where Marc and I picked out things to fill up our new apartment. They arrived at the new place shortly after we did and set to work bringing in the furniture.

I was ready for work, too. I wore one of Marc's t-shirts on top. It hung loosely over my small breasts, so I went without a bra as I often do. Marc doesn't like bras and always begs me to leave them in the drawer, or the trash (I actually caught him throwing a bra away, once). I often humor him, because I'm just the right size to get away with it. Marc refers to them as small cantaloupes, and they do have that shape. They are still firm and provide a nice shape to my blouses without the aid of a bra. I admit it: I like my breasts, too. The only thing that sometimes causes me some anxious moments is that my nipples are long, and grow to obscene lengths at times of their own choosing. On the bottom I wore a denim skirt that was mid-thigh. I chose it because I thought I would be able to move freely as I worked without concern for modesty. Except for one thing. During the final preparations for our move, my panties got stuck in an unmarked box and I couldn't take the time to find them that morning. Marc, of course, was thrilled by the turn of events, and kept repeating phrases like, "you'll be fine without them. Never mind. You're just with me, anyway." He even used the weather to bolster his argument saying, "you'll be cooler. It will feel good." If you're wondering why I didn't wear jeans, or shorts or something like that to work in, well, I blame Marc again. They had all been stuffed in boxes, carried to the new apartment the previous day, and stacked in who-knows-which pile.

I directed Sam and Jake where to put things, Marc was busy lifting and carrying, too. Toward noon the heavy pieces had all been brought in and the boys were tired and sweaty. My own t-shirt was damp with perspiration and was beginning to cling in ways I wished it wouldn't. No one seemed to notice, though, so I didn't dwell on it.

"Hey, I'm going to jump into the shower before lunch," Marc announced. After my shower I'll order some pizza for us, okay?"

"Great," Sam answered, "thanks." He and Jake sat down on the balcony in the shade to wait.

I brought a couple beers to them.

"We really shouldn't," Jake feigned a protest. "We're still on the clock, you know."

"Go ahead," I encouraged them. "We don't mind."

I pulled up the chaise-lounge opposite them and stretched out on it.

"Oh, that feels good," I said as I stretched my legs and arched my back. "I worked hard, too, you know." I laughed.

"Yeah, I saw you," Jake replied with a smile. "You must be worn out from giving orders."

"Hey, my t-shirt is every bit as sweaty as yours," I held it away from my body. "Just look at that!"

"Stinky, stinky," he teased. "You should lose that stinky thing!"

"Yeah, you'd like that," I laughed, and then released my grasp to allow it to settle once again next to my body.

The boys blushed and exchanged looks as they realized I had taken Jake's comment as a suggestion that I go topless. I blushed then, too, embarrassed that they had been embarrassed.

"So, do you guys work full-time?" I asked to change the subject.

Sam spoke up and explained that they had just graduated from high school, one of those military academies, and were working at the rental company only during the summer. College was on the agenda for Fall. I asked a few questions about their experiences at an all-male high school and they blushed some more when I mentioned how hard it must have been to go four years without girls. As we talked I noticed their eyes wandered from my legs to my breasts and back again. As a woman I've gotten used to such meanderings, I suppose, but I couldn't dismiss it altogether. For one thing, it was flattering to be the center of attention of these two young boys. For another thing, I was self-conscious to begin with because of my lack of panties and my moist t-shirt. My nipples began to grow and harden.

"Wow, that felt good," Marc joined us. "How 'bout you take your turn, Liza. The pizza's on the way."

A shower sounded like a good idea. As I stood I joked, "Yeah, the boys are sick of smelling me."

"I put a stack of towels in the bathroom," Marc said. "Throw out your dirty things and I'll add them to mine in the washer," he added as I walked away.

I was glad to get my rock-hard nipples off the balcony and into the bathroom. I smiled to myself as I thought about the sight those two must have been enjoying, then blushed. Once through the bathroom door I removed my skirt and top and threw them into the hall, calling to Marc that I had done so. The shower felt good. It was cool. The water kept my nipples firm and made them bounce in the stream. God, it felt good. I imagined that Marc was playing with them, as he often does. I could see him in my mind's eye, that boyish grin. Then, slowly, to his face were added those of Jake and Sam. My left hand grabbed a nipple and squeezed. My right hand went to my crotch. 'What are you doing?' I jerked myself from my reverie. I dipped my head in the cool stream of water to chase the thoughts from my mind.

A single towel was on the counter where Marc had promised a stack, but I didn't complain. One was all I needed. I rubbed my short hair dry and

buffed my back. I avoided my breasts and pussy, not wanting to get started on that again. I wrapped the towel around me, as women do, and headed for the bedroom to look for clothes.

"Are you done?" Marc called from the living room.

"Yes."

"Okay, Sam is taking a turn."

I didn't answer or think too much about it. I was busy with the boxes, looking for something to wear. Kitchen appliances. Knives and dishes. Small appliances. Office supplies. No clothes.

"Marc," I shouted, "I can't find my clothes."

No response. I tried calling again, but still got no response.

I looked around a little more. Marc had found his clothes; mine must be here, too. I called again, then gave up and walked into the hall. Just at the same time Sam opened the door to the bathroom and, dripping wet, came out, not noticing me. I stood completely still, not knowing what to do at the sight of this young athlete in all his glory. He grabbed a towel that was on top of the stack on a box beside the door (so that's where they were) and brought it to his eyes and face. I watched as his penis bobbed and swayed with his movements. He was still oblivious to my presence. Before I could decide what to do, Jake came around the corner to see me standing there enjoying the show.

"Sam!" Jake shouted to his friend. Sam looked up to see Jake and me both starring at him. He jumped like a rabbit back into the bathroom and closed the door. I scurried past Jake to the living room, hoping to find Marc. I heard muffled voices and giggling coming from the bathroom as the hair on the back of my neck stood as erect as my nipples under the towel.

'I am an adult. I accidentally stumbled upon Sam. So what? We're all adults. Why am I making so much out of this? Why was I so embarrassed, intrigued. Why was I wet, very wet?' I wrestled with my emotions.

I wondered where Marc had gotten to. I paced the living room. I didn't know where to go, what to do. I continued to pace, alternating between looking out the window searching for Marc and glancing in the direction of the bathroom, trying to make sense of the sounds coming from that direction.

It wasn't long before Sam and Jake came into the room, each wrapped in a towel. The three of us stood there in our towels, looking at each other, waiting for something to happen, for someone to say something.

"Gee, Sam, I'm so sorry," I began, then let my voice trial off. We stood there. Sam blushed brightly, Jake laughed nervously, lightly.

"Marc had to go pick up the pizza after all. They called, so he went for it. He said we could wash up when the bathroom was free," Jake babbled. "We didn't want to eat while we were so sweaty," his voice trailed off, too.

We again just stood there looking at each other, not knowing how to proceed. I suddenly felt very vulnerable. My towel wrapped around me, but it was a stretch for it to tie at the top. It gaped on the side, the opening growing as it reached to just a few inches below my hips, covering my pussy, yes, but not by much.

"I couldn't find the boxes with my clothes," I blurted out finally.

Sam and Jake both just kind of shrugged their shoulders and shifted their weight in response, not knowing how to answer a lady in distress.

"Oh, never mind," I said before they could speak. "We're all adults, after all." I laughed gently and tried to bring closure to the situation.

"Yeah, what the hell," Jake said. "We'll just relax until after lunch, then we'll put our dirty clothes back on and help you with your boxes."

"Of course, no problem. That makes sense. Here, let's just sit down and wait for Marc. Would you like another beer?"

I walked quickly into the kitchen to get the beer without waiting for their answer. I opened the refrigerator door, bent down, and grabbed a couple cans from the lower shelves. I immediately felt the breeze on my backside as I bent over. I straightened up quickly, hoping that the boys hadn't seen what I'd displayed. I turned and saw they were watching my every movement. I blushed a bright red. Sam and Jake blushed, too.

"Well, I guess you owed me that," Sam said and smiled.

I burst out laughing and they started laughing, too. Now, we had closure. I brought our beer into the living room, sat gingerly down on the couch, trying to be as lady-like as I could, and we began to drink and talk as if nothing had happened. Marc came home with the pizza to find the three of us getting along like old friends in our towels. He went directly to the balcony with it and told us to join him, not bating a single eyelash at the situation.

"But we're just in towels," I stated the obvious. "People could see us."

"We're on the second floor. Come on. Nobody will see or care. Don't be such a prude," he replied as he placed the large pepperoni pizza on the patio table.

I reluctantly and carefully got up and joined the commotion on the balcony. I clutched at the towel trying to minimize the opening on my left side. My bare ass settled on the cold, metal chair, the bunched towel at my crotch provided my only cover in that area. I began to give an explanation of my predicament to Marc, but, as I said, he continued to be seemingly oblivious to our dress, to the situation, and wouldn't be bothered with hearing what I had to say. He just casually turned the conversation to other things. I watched him in confusion, not understanding how he could be so nonchalant about his wife sitting here nearly naked with two young movers. I shrugged my shoulders, used my free hand to eat my pizza, and listened to the boys' talk of sports and cars and such things.

When the pizza was finally gone and several more beers had been emptied, Sam stood up and announced that it was time for him to put his grubby clothes back on before, "I give Liza another show."

Now, finally, Marc decided to show some interest. I blushed, again, though the beer was loosening all of our inhibitions. "Liza saw you naked?" he asked Sam.

"Yep, just stood there and watched me when I got out of the shower," he said, losing all of his former bashfulness.

"Well, you little devil!" he teased, as he looked me up and down with a bemused look I'd never seen before. I recoiled. I was speechless. "Did she return the favor at least?"

"No, not in the least," Sam lied.

I didn't know how I should feel about his lie. Was my virtue safeguarded by it or was I now indebted by it? All I could do was sit there with one hand still clutching my towel at my side and the other protecting my modesty at my crotch.

"Well, that doesn't seem fair, does it," Marc said looking from Sam to me.

I nearly died. My tongue was tied in knots, along with my stomach.

"We'll have to make amends sometime," Marc joked.

"Oh, I insist," Sam joked with uncharacteristic boldness. It had to be the beer, I thought at the time.

Before I could fully grasp the significance of what just happened, Jake and Sam went to get dressed and Marc picked up the debris from lunch and headed toward the trash. "I'll see if I can find the box with your clothes," Marc said as he left.

Good to his word, he returned with a box labeled "Liza Clothes." I followed him to the bedroom and tore it open. I was never so glad to see skirts and blouses in my whole life. I quickly threw on a wrap-around skirt and a halter-top with spaghetti straps. I still didn't have any underwear, but I felt dressed enough to entertain the Queen of England. I spent the next couple hours unpacking the boxes and staying out of the way and out of sight.

About three o'clock I heard the engine from the truck start up and I listened as it drove away. Marc came into the bedroom a few minutes later.

"Well, it's all done," he announced. "Boy, I'm glad that's over. Let's never move again. How's the unpacking going?"

"Slow but sure," I answered.

"Sam and Jake were nice guys, huh?" he said.

"Yeah," I agreed, not wanting to pursue it.

"I invited them to dinner, tomorrow. I promised you'd give them what you owed them."

My mouth went dry. I didn't answer. Marc left the room and we didn't talk about it again that evening. We didn't talk about it again at bedtime, nor did we talk about it again at breakfast. We didn't talk about it at noon, or afternoon. The more we didn't talk about it, the more my dread built.

The day passed shopping and getting settled. I went through the motions of life while my mind went over and over my supposed debt to Sam. All I could think about was Marc's promise, Sam's expectation. What was I going to do? Why was I agonizing over this? Nothing would happen I didn't want to happen, I knew that. But what did I want? What did Marc want? Would I do what he wanted, as I usually did, or would I say "no" to those beautiful, plaintive eyes? God, he had a way of making me do things, but this situation was a first. I know he likes me to dress sexily and enjoys putting his hands up my skirts and blouses, sometimes even in public. I always react like a stunned rabbit, blushing ferociously and scanning the area to make sure nobody saw him. I usually mumble something incoherently, but never upbraid him or tell him to stop. Why is that? This business about the panties is not new, but yesterday's argument against them was the strongest ever. We never did find the box with my underwear, by the way. It just disappeared. Marc looked for it with me, yes, but he teased me as we looked and said he hoped we never found it. I mentioned the possibility of going to the mall to pick up a few things while we were at the grocery store, but that idea never took root. He just placed his hand on my pantyless behind and said I looked fine the way I was, then changed the subject. Why didn't I insist? I could have. I was being drawn toward something. I was curious to see where this would lead, I suppose. Why couldn't I just talk to Marc about it? Oh god.

About five o'clock, Marc said it was time to get ready for our guests. He asked if I'd like to shower first while he got the grill ready for the steaks.

"Wear that blue, summer frock I like so much," he mentioned casually. "And a bit of stubble is beginning to sprout. I put your razor in the cabinet next to mine."

I knew what he meant. He wasn't talking about my legs. This was another concession on my part. We hadn't been together very long before I took pity on his martyrdom. Every time he pulled a hair from his teeth during lovemaking he gave me a little pout and asked me to shave. I did enjoy the oral sex, so I finally did it. Yes, it's a bother sometimes, but I do like the rewards. It really did feel great the first time I felt my bare pussy. The sex was never better, and I got used to the feeling, and the chore. I don't think I'll ever want to let it grow out again.

So, now they were here. The big box of beer cans in my arms rested against my torso, pulling my short dress even higher. Marc loves this dress. It's tiny buttons run the length of the front, from the low neckline to the high hem. The thin cotton clings to my form, except when I bend over. The front then falls away from my breasts, so I have to remember to be careful. My braless breasts are nearly on display as it is, though. My pink nipples can be faintly discerned on careful examination. I know, because I looked in the mirror when I put it on. I couldn't believe I was going to wear this as I stood there in front of the mirror and combed my hair, adjusted my makeup. Surely Marc would ask me to change when he saw me. The joke and the ordeal would then be over. The challenge would be forfeit; my journey toward what I don't know would end. But no, he cuddled me and told me how great I looked when he came into the bedroom. He said he was proud of his beautiful wife. He just had to make a couple adjustments, he said, as he unbuttoned first my top button, then the one at my hem. My hand immediately went to his as he touched the first button, but it merely rested on top to follow his motions. I couldn't bring myself to stop him. He sensed my compliance and kissed me softly on the neck. He said he loved me and looked into my eyes. At that moment all I wanted to do was please him.

"Where'd you get the beer? You aren't old enough to buy beer," I said.

"Oh, we have our sources," Sam answered. "We drank so much of yours yesterday, we felt we owed you." He laid special stress on the word "owed," and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Yes, one must pay one's debts," Jake chimed in.

I diverted my eyes. Actually, I think I lowered my head.

"I'll put these in the 'fridge," I said as I went to the kitchen.

"Can we watch?" Sam and Jake laughed.

I didn't answer. I didn't know how to answer. Marc, of course, didn't understand the significance of their request, so he just ignored it.

From the kitchen I heard them getting settled in the living room with the normal chitchat. "Bring us all a cold one," Marc called, so I loaded four cans on a tray and headed in. Sam and Jake sat on the couch, the low couch. I knew I would have to set the tray on the coffee table before them, but I just stood there for a few seconds and pondered how to go about it. I couldn't bend over without revealing my bare breasts. Their faces would be just inches away. I could lower myself by bending at the knees, keeping my upper torso vertical, but I couldn't visualize just how much leg would show and I would have to struggle to keep my knees together. Their faces looked up at me, expectantly. I had to decide.

shyones
shyones
81 Followers
12