One Night At A Party

"I … I honestly don't know, Billy," I said.

"Sure you don't," he teased, grinning. "You hated hearing about me tonguing her nipples at the barbecue, didn't you – then feeling between her legs. You were disappointed that I didn't get inside her panties, weren't you? You'd like to have heard about me slipping a finger inside her, wouldn't you?"

"Are you sure you didn't?" I challenged him, angry and embarrassed.

He laughed – really laughed, with amusement.

"I think I'll just leave you guessing about that," he said. "You think about it, tonight, when you get Mary home – see if it gives you a hard-on!"

He stood up.

"I'm getting cold out here. I'm going back in. Say," he added – "why don't you have a turn with Sheila before this thing finishes. See if you can cop a feel – get your revenge! By the way, I was lying earlier – about Sheila, I mean. She's told me about one or two guys who've felt her up – and a few she wouldn't mind trying! I think you'd be OK there!"

And he went back inside. I sat down again, sipping my beer, and trying to sort out my thoughts. The logical part of me said I should have this out with Mary and put a stop to it, once and for all, but something deeper told me I was feeling a depth of arousal I hadn't felt for several years, certainly in connection with my wife. The constant excitement of our early sexual relations had long since dimmed and, although we still had our moments, they weren't either frequent or long-lasting.

But now, my mouth was dry as I thought about her and my mind kept drifting towards getting her into bed. The thought of sliding my hands inside her nightdress to fondle her breasts was breathtakingly exciting – and I couldn't deny the fact that it was because I knew Billy had been there already – and who else? I remembered what Billy had said about getting Sheila to tell him about her early experiences – I would try that!

I finished my beer and went back into the house. The lights were back up in the lounge; the music was loud; the dancing energetic. Billy was dancing with Nicola. I remembered what he had said about getting inside her panties at New Year – it was hard to believe as I looked at them, but then so was him feeling Mary's tits and I'd seen that with my own eyes.

"Are you OK, Charlie?" The voice behind me was Mary's.

"Yeah, sure," I replied, automatically, turning to look at her, my eyes straying, involuntarily to her front-fastening blouse – and her front-fastening bra! "I just needed some fresh air."

"What were you talking to Billy about?" she said. Was it my imagination, or was she a little nervous? I met her eye. At first, she held my gaze, but then she turned to look at the dancers.

Sod it, I thought, let her wonder!

"Let's have a dance," I said. I think her smile held a hint of relief, and we took to the floor.

We stayed together for the remainder of the party. It only lasted about another hour, and we walked home. The kids were sleeping out and we had the house to ourselves. All the way home, I was determined to start making love to Mary before we went to bed – I was determined to emulate Billy and unbutton her blouse and undo her bra myself. It wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded – I couldn't remember the last time I'd started on her without her already being in her nightclothes, or in nothing at all.

We were walking hand in hand, as usual. On an impulse, I slid my arm round her waist and she eased into me, comfortably, smiling up at me. I bent down to kiss her. I meant it to be just a peck, but our lips met and her mouth opened. We stopped, and kissed properly. It was a long one and I felt myself getting hard.

When we had been 'going out', we'd have waited until we were in a dark corner, or a lane, so we could go a bit further. This gave me an idea. When we finished kissing, we walked on, Mary's arm round my waist, too. It was a clear, frosty night, but we had had plenty of those years ago, and it hadn't stopped us.

We were passing a dark lane, between the back gardens of two rows of houses, and I steered Mary into it. She didn't say anything, and followed me without protest, or surprise. In the middle, the darkest part, I stopped and turned her towards me. She looked up, and I kissed her again. She responded, again, with her lips parted, and she put her arms round my neck. I cupped my hands round her bottom and pulled her into me.

We were both wearing thick coats and I unfastened, first mine, then Mary's, so that we could feel each other's warmth. I eased her back against a garden wall. She clung to my mouth and her body moved against me.

I pushed a hand up between us and squeezed her left breast, over her blouse. Her tongue slid between my lips and I squeezed a little harder. My fingers trembling, I started on the buttons of her blouse. Her hand slid between us and found the shape of my cock in my trousers.

Had she done that to Billy? No, surely not. But would he have said so - if she had? I reached the last button, undid it, and slipped my hand inside. I felt the smooth skin of her belly and moved up to cover her bra-cup. How had Billy felt when he got this far? Did he think it would be journey's end? I squeezed the cup – it was light, yielding material, and it was well-filled.

"It opens at the front, Charlie." Her whisper was low, conspiratorial.

Jesus – that was what she had said to Billy! Now, I was Billy! This was forbidden territory – my mouth was dry, my fingers shaking, my cock hard. I fumbled with the clasps – had Billy taken so long? – then, suddenly, they parted and her glorious naked breast tumbled out into my waiting hand. I inserted my other hand, to feel her other tit. Both nipples were rock-hard and Mary's breathing was shaky and passionate. Her lips were wet and her tongue was darting in and out of my mouth. Her hand squeezed my cock, hard, then she dragged her lips away from mine, and whispered – "The house is empty, Charlie – why don't you take me home and fuck my brains out!"

In all our time together, I had never heard Mary use the word 'fuck' – nor had I used it in front of her. It really turned me on.

"Only if I can feel your tits all the way home," I whispered. She pushed me away and ran down the lane. Then she turned to face me. Her coat was held wide open, and her blouse. Her bra had disappeared. Her naked breasts gleamed in the frosty moonlight.

"You'll have to catch me," she shouted, then turned and fled. I was catching her up, just at the end of the lane, when she suddenly squealed and about-turned, pulling her coat closed and grabbing my arm. She tucked her head into my chest and she was giggling uncontrollably as we hurried past a middle-aged man, walking his dog. He studiously avoided meeting my eyes as we rushed past.

"Did he see?" I hissed, when we were out of earshot.

"Yes!" Mary said. "How embarrassing!"

"Lucky him!" I said.

Mary raised her head and glanced round. "Yes!" she said, and whipped her coat open again and ran for our back gate...

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