A Happy Ending to the Year

Deborah's legs shifted, entwining around Julie's; the rest of their bodies were hidden from sight. Then a familiar feeling came over him. He knew he should stop but he was drunk and reckless so continued. Inevitably his orgasm built until release came. He shut his eyes briefly; when he reopened them he saw that he was shooting his seed across all of the legs. Not just his wife's, but also Deborah and Oliver's. White and sticky globules lay on Oliver's socks, glinting in the light.

He went to the bathroom and ripped several sheets of tissue. He returned and carefully wiped the mess from the unconscious Julie, then Deborah's leg, lastly Oliver's. He tried to wipe the wet sock, as gently as he could but Oliver stirred.

Frozen with fear, Nick watched as Oliver rolled over and wrapped his arms around Julie, snuggling in closely. She automatically responded and Nick saw them embrace with just a pair of under-shorts and a pair of disgusting socks between them.

Oliver raised a leg slightly. Julie in her stupor had instinctively slid her hand inside his underwear and was holding his privates. He was enjoying the touch and in his stupor assumed that it was Deborah's.

Deborah had wrapped her arm around Julie's waist, feeling the pressure of those heavy breasts against her forearm. She wondered how they felt when caressed; she had never had a proper feel of a woman's breasts before. She slowly moved and (ever so nonchalantly) cupped a boob. It was soft and cool, the nipple was flat and so soft that it could hardly be felt at all. She had of course felt her own body but this was totally different. She caught the nipple between her finger and thumb and slowly tweaked it until it came to life, fully erect.

The breast was compliant in her hand and her fingers pressed into the flesh. This was her big chance to feel a female body and the alcohol gave her bravery. She released the breast and moved her hand slowly down, over the gentle curve of the belly, feeling the pendant inserted into the navel. She continued further down over smooth skin, to an area that felt slightly bristly despite the recent shave. The legs were splayed, and her hand continued to a division of flesh with its soft labia.

Deborah stroked and felt the delicate skin.

Julie was dreaming. She was back in college, her room-mate was in her bed touching her and it felt wonderfully different to a man's touch. The contact was lighter, the fingers were smaller but the nails were longer. The hand instinctively knew how to please her, the exact way to excite her clitoris. Her friend had been experienced in female relationships and had hinted many times of her desires. Eventually she had succumbed and partaken of wild experiences that she would try to forget -- but which would always remain as secret memories.

Then in her sleep suddenly the scene changed and she was with an old boyfriend, feeling a warm scrotum in her hand. Strangely her pussy was sill being fondled. It was all very pleasant and luxurious. She moved her thighs further apart, to allow better access to the hand. Her feet had some feeling returned and she could detect something warm against them.

She took hold of the cock that was attached to the testicles in her hand and eased it from the clothing. As it grew to her touch, she squeezed the glans, causing the organ to tense and twitch. It was alive and reacted to her so she repeated the squeeze.

Oliver lay still, feeling the hand palpate his penis.

Deborah slowly explored the cleft with her fingers, feeling where the dry rough skin became smooth and moist, where there was a tiny nodule hidden between the folds, where the firmness of the pelvic bone gave way to an opening to a passageway. Her middle finger entered the void, warm and lubricated.

Nick watched as the duvet shifted, revealing Julie's legs more and more. He still held her feet against his groin as much as he could, he was flaccid now but it was still a good feeling. A male pair of legs supported one of her thighs, female legs supported the other. Julies' knees were now wide apart.

The covering moved again, he could see that a female hand was against his wife's groin, masturbating her. He could only see three fingers; then the hand slowly moved and the missing digit reappeared from the flesh, spreading the labia widely.

He noticed a repetitive movement hidden under the folds of the quilt. Oliver groaned and a muscular arm fell out from the side of the bed.

Oliver's eyes opened and his head raised. His free hand pulled the duvet clear so that he could see the hand that was playing with his rigid cock protruding from his under-shorts. The duvet was pulled further so that both men could see that it was Julie doing the work.

Julie bent down and took the cock into her mouth, sliding her lips over the glans but not taking it any deeper. She opened her eyes and saw her husband watching. This was odd -- yet it made sense in her dream; her husband was observing her have sex with her old college boyfriend. Slowly she worked out that she really was being watched and it wasn't a dream. She startled, which caused her to bite the head of the penis.

Oliver yelped in pain and sat upright, wide awake and clutching at his privates. This woke up Deborah, whose hand had fallen away from Julie. Deborah saw her husband sitting up with the naked Julie fallen in his lap.

Deborah remembered the feel of Julie's pussy and the smoothness of those breasts, now casually exposed, as they had been earlier in the moonlight. She looked down and realised that her own breasts were also uncovered. Hers were so much firmer, so higher. Her areolae were pinker and smaller, all together more attractive she thought. She was proud of them; if anyone should be ashamed and wanted to cover up it wasn't to be her.

The room was now warmed with the heat of four bodies together and Deborah had recovered from the chill. But what was going on with Oliver and Julie? Her head was against his groin, and Nick was watching. He had a ball of toilet tissue in his hand, but Debbie couldn't think of an explanation. Maybe later when the room had stopped spinning. How much had she drunk? She had no idea, she was tired and wanted to go to sleep.

Deborah rolled over, closed her eyes and was soon dozing.

Nick went to the bathroom and flushed away the ball of paper. He was drunk, tired and wanted to sleep. His wife was playing with another man's balls but right now he could care less. He climbed into bed alongside Deborah.

There was very little room left and he had to squeeze in to make space. He gave Deborah a shove and shifted her a few inches sideways. He pulled the duvet over them both but he had to drape a leg and an arm over her to keep himself from falling out. He tried to sleep but he was in contact with his nearly naked friend, clothed in just her white French cut panties. His arm over her slim back meant that his hand was close to the side of the pert breasts that he had admired for so long.

She shifted in her sleep, feeling the contact. She had drunk too much and normally such a night would be finished off with a bout of sex. She had run through the bushes and long grass, and nearly caught her death of cold but she felt short-changed. However, now there was the unmistakable presence of a male body against her. Not the firm muscles of her husband, but softer and more gentle. Definitely masculine.

Deborah had fondled the intoxicated Julie. Was that abuse? Sexual assault? She remembered reading about something along those lines. Now, her body was receptive and her brain was horny. Someone somewhere had once described what she had between her legs as a 'wide-on'.

One of her arms was lying between herself and Nick. She wriggled it down until she could touch him. He was clean-shaven and had a slight swelling. She took hold of him and did what she would normally do to her husband. It took some time but with some effort she finally had him in the state that she required.

She rolled over onto her back pulling him so that he rolled onto her. A quick yank of her panties to the side and he was thrusting towards her willing body.

Nick had thought that he was sated, finished for the night. Now he had renewed vigour; Deborah had pulled him onto her and now her long legs were wrapped around his waist, pulling him in. His cock was aimed at the target, which was wet and ready. He slid in.

She was tight, with a grip that Julie had lost some years ago. She set the pace, determining the rhythm with her ankles locked together behind his back. Her hips shimmied and bucked, grinding against his stiffness, feeling herself being filled. Nick, with his soft smooth body was well-endowed in the gentleman department and it felt like she could feel every wrinkle in his manhood. His glans rippled her insides as it moved deeply, massaging her G-spot. His hands, too. They were soft and gentle on her buttocks, sliding under her panties; nothing like Oliver's rough palms, scarred from years on building sites.

In the background, Nick's mind was telling him that this was wrong. Surely his wife was in the same bed? He continued. What the hell. The elastic hem of the panties stretched past his penis, dragging against him as he thrusted. The combination of a tight pussy and the panties against him was quite different to what he was used to.

Julie was warming and recovering by the minute. She was also feeling frisky. She had been holding Oliver's balls and squeezing his penis for a while and he was erect. His organ was shorter than Nick's but much wider. Julie could not get her finger and thumb to meet around his glans when she encircled him. Many years had passed since she was a tight little virgin and she was now much looser, she joked sometimes that her fanny had grown at the same rate as her boobs.

She climbed on top of Oliver and aimed his penis her opening, sinking down on top of him. A slight resistance at the entrance and then he was in, his girth filling her. God it was good to be stretched once more. She impaled herself firmly to the fullest extent.

The builder placed his hands under her bum and lifted her, letting her fall hard again. 'Fantastic', she thought as her large breasts bounced with the impact, right to the hilt. Oliver's cock was not as long as Nick's which she had always found slightly too much for her; he would strike her cervix and it could be painful.

Oliver however was much better suited to her - no matter how hard she sank he didn't reach the end. His girth gave her more scope to swivel and grind before it became uncomfortable. When she leaned forwards she could press her clitoris between their bodies, this she had not felt since her years spent with teenaged boyfriends.

Soon the two couples were moving in synchronicity, Nicks bottom was bouncing in co-ordination with Julie's boobs. She looked across at her husband, he was still wearing black satin under-shorts. She reached across and pulled them down, exposing the pale bum, now flabbier from too much time sitting down bent over peering into patient's mouths inspecting fillings. He hadn't gone completely to seed in spite of his sedentary lifestyle and he was still quite slim. A pair of feet were locked around his waist.

Oliver was being ridden vigorously by Julie and when he looked up, he could see a pair of tits flopping up and down outlined against the ceiling. The vagina was warm and slippery, his foreskin was not being pulled back by the grip that his wife had, and was a pleasant relaxing change.

Julie stopped her movement for a second; long enough to yank Nick's socks off and toss them away -- there was something unsexy about a man wearing socks and she couldn't see the deposits that stained them. She ran her fingers down the crack of his ass, making him squirm. She continued past his anus -- for a time he though that the finger might penetrate his most sensitive area and he braced himself for that intrusion.

However she stroked his testicles before gripping the scrotum. She squeezed hard.

Nick was balls-deep with said organs being crushed by his wife and came instantly. He felt like a teenager again; it was a long time before he had had two orgasms in the same session.

Julie recommenced her hip action, feeling the length of Oliver's penis move inside her. She smoothed her hands over his chest with its firm pecs, his hard muscled stomach. She ran her hands over his biceps and massaged his shoulders as her own finale approached.

She slumped over him, her buttocks flexing involuntarily as she quivered away her orgasm. Oliver hugged her, then sat up, pushing her over onto her back. He started to fuck her in a classic missionary, but Deborah pulled him up.

Deborah took hold of his penis, withdrawing it from her friend. She took it into her mouth, tasting the juices and licking his balls. Then she started masturbating her husband, as Julie still lay motionless under him.

Deborah could feel Nick's fluids trickling down her thighs. She knew that some women found this repulsive and would wash themselves immediately after sex but it gave her a feeling of empowerment and femininity. She was hornier than ever.

She pulled Oliver from Julie, rolling onto her back so that her husband was over her. He immediately plunged into her sloppy vagina; there was a squelching noise as the pressure made some of the warm fluid squirt out.

It didn't take long before he orgasmed. The cavern of warm wetness became even fuller as she took the second load and Deborah shuddered again, squealing with joy.

Oliver was exhausted and his eyes closed. He could feel himself falling asleep even while still inside his wife.

Deborah prodded him and pushed him off, so that she could put her hand down to her pussy and feel the semen leaking from her in pulsing globs. She inspected her fingers with goo dripping from them, then scooped up a handful of the product of two good fucks.

She spread the fluid over her friend Julie's stomach and up, over those magnificent breasts. The skin absorbed the liquid quickly and soon she was just fondling the boobs sensuously. Julie found the sensation very relaxing was soon fast asleep.

Snores echoed around the room and Deborah checked the time on the clock on a bedside table. Damn it was late, soon people would be rising. She suddenly felt exhausted and lay down to sleep herself.

~**~

Deborah awoke. Sunlight was streaming around the curtains and it took a moment to place herself. She was in Julie's house, in her bed with Julie, Oliver and Nick. All together, crammed under one duvet. She had a mouth like a Ethiopian's sandal and when she raised her head to look around the room her brain stayed behind on the mattress. The world went black briefly, then her vision cleared again.

She was wearing panties, that was strange. She never wore them -- or anything else for that matter - in bed. She ran her hand over her breasts and through her hair. She felt her panties; they were tacky and sticking to her skin. She shuddered and removed them whilst keeping her head on the bed where it needed to be. She quietly dropped the item on the carpet and raised the quilt for a peek.

Nick was wearing his under-shorts, the other two were nude. 'Oh crap', she thought to herself as the previous night's antics came back to her. She vaguely remembered screwing with Nick whilst Julie and Oliver had fucked alongside her. She also remembered running around the riverside without her underwear. Had it really happened? Alcohol had definitely been involved.

She looked further down the bed. Julie's feet were filthy, she checked her own. They were not much better.

There was movement elsewhere and the others started waking. Julie sat up with the quilt clasped to her chest, then grabbed a T-shirt from a chair. It was one of Nick's and baggy on her, but very short as a cover-up. She staggered across the room, clutching at the furniture as the T-shirt barely covered half of her bum. She left the room and there was the sound of taps running and the toilet flushing.

Deborah was desperate to use the toilet and followed her. She was naked as the day that she was born but she felt bold and she was still inebriated. She knocked on the bathroom door and Julie invited her in.

Julie was in the shower, enveloped in a cloud of steam and hot water so Deborah used the toilet. When she was done, Julie came out, streaming water from her wet blonde hair and towelling dry as gently as possible to avoid dislodging her pounding head from her shoulders. Deborah took her place in the shower and Julie went to find something to wear.

Despite the shower, Julie still felt dreadful. She opened a drawer but only found under-shorts belonging to Nick. She realised that the men were studying her naked body and felt self-conscious. At least the shorts were clean, so she put on a pair. They were plain white cotton and loose enough to hang down from her hips, but served to give her a sense of modesty while she dried her hair.

Nick and Oliver both watched from the bed. Julie was in the room with bare breasts bobbing as she rubbed her head. The white shorts were much different from the tight panties that she normally wore but she liked the sensation. Apart from the elastic barely clinging to her hips she couldn't feel anything at all -- it almost felt as if she were nude. She draped the towel around her shoulders and over her boobs and went downstairs.

Deborah came out of the shower, with one towel wrapped around chest to cover her boobs and body with another wound on her head as a turban. As she walked across the room to pick up the white dress lying crumpled on the floor, the towel opened at the front to reveal her pussy. That was enough for her husband Oliver to be sufficiently bold to walk to the bathroom, penis waving.

~**~

Julie had made coffee and fried egg sandwiches for breakfast - good old-fashioned student fuel designed for the resolution of hangover problems.

The towel that was draped over her shoulders and breasts gave her the impression that she was covered modestly, the others could see that below the towel her breasts had bright red scratches around dark brown nipples. Nick threw on a tracksuit, the others came downstairs, wearing yesterday's clothes. Deborah refused to put her used panties back on so Oliver stuffed them in his pocket and she stayed 'commando' under the tube dress.

Overnight a light dusting of snow had continued to fall, making everything crisp and white. They bade the farewells promising each other that they would meet for another celebration. Just for old time's sake.

Oliver and Deborah left wearing borrowed overcoats, walking home through deserted streets with the hush that only snow on a holiday morning can produce. They passed a tree with a black rag hanging from a branch, waving in the light air. The New Year may not prove to be prosperous but it was surely promising -- and happy.