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 mademewet, 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 wasthatkind 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 ofhislike 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.