Football Party

Again this tactful assent drew a mischievous grin to Amy's lips.

"Okay. Yea," she nodded. "But the first 3 possessions."

"Agreed," Ken smiled.

"I say they won't even get a first down in those possessions," Ted challenged.

"You're on too," Amy laughed.

The game started a couple minutes later and everyone watched as Amy's team quickly went 3-and-out on their first possession.

"That's one," Ken clapped.

"Yea, yea," Amy scoffed.

Their opponent didn't do much better, punting the ball after only five plays.

"Here we go," Amy breathed.

She was standing beside Tom's chair, and he devoured the image of her breasts' firm swell under her jersey, swollen, erect nipples poking proudly at the material.

"3rd and 8," Ted grinned as her team soon faced their second difficult yardage.

"And that's two," Ken cheered moments later as the punting team came onto the field after an incomplete pass.

"Yea, yea," she repeated.

This time the opposing team got two first downs before having to punt.

As her team's offense took the field for their third possession Tom noticed her biting at her bottom lip while her hand rubbed at her shorts near the front. He recognized these signs from some of their extended teasing sessions and knew they signaled her heightened . . . anticipation. He wondered if this was due to the amplified wagers . . . or if she having some of the same thoughts as him?

Three plays later her team's punting unit trotted onto the field, meaning she'd lost.

"Damn it," she half-heartedly cursed, then shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well."

She took a sip of her beer, then set it on the table next to Tom's chair. For a moment she gazed down into her husband's face, her eyes scanning his expression for any sign of him changing his mind and stopping her from paying her debt.

He gave her his own mischievous grin.

Ken met her by the coffee table, towering over her slight form, either because he was impatient to collect, or he just wanted it this way. Reaching her arms up around his neck, Amy lifted herself on her tiptoes. Her entire body seemed to tremble slightly as Ken settled his hands on her waist and leaned down to her.

Tom suddenly realized that there'd been no discussion concerning what kind of kiss this would be. So he had no idea what to expect.

At first their lips met in a simple kiss . . .

A slight puckering . . . a delicate connection . . .

Then another . . .

And another . . .

Then a soft, open mouth kiss . . .

Sensual . . . erotic . . .

Then another . . .

As their lips pressed tighter and tighter together, Ken lifted her off the floor, his hands slipping around to cup her ass and support her. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, her body mashing against his. One of her hands moved to the back of his head, pressing him into their kiss harder. It became obvious to everyone that they were French kissing, their tongues swirling over one another as the passion of their kisses grew . . .

And grew . . .

For several long minutes . . .

Tom sat there, watching his wife kiss . . . no, watching her make-out with another man.

And in seeing this, he believed certain unlikely barriers were being dismantled.

He had no idea how long the session lasted, nor how long it might have continued, when a ruckus from the TV managed to break the trance-like state of the room. Glancing over at the screen he saw that Amy's school was now losing; 6 - nothing.

It wasn't a big deal in itself. But it was enough of an interruption for Ted, who wanted his kiss, to speak up.

"Hey, I think it's my turn," he challenged.

It took another few seconds for the pair to pull their lips apart. Once they had Amy remained with her legs wrapped around Ken's waist as she leaned back slightly and glanced around in search of Tom. Finding him she gazed across the few feet separating them, her cheeks flush and her eyelids heavy. Beneath the lustful gaze was a fragment of the same silent questions from moments earlier when she'd looked for approval to accept the wager. Seeing nothing telling her that he'd changed his mind she gave Ken one last, quick peck, then untangled herself and he lowered her gently to the floor.

Unlike Ken, Ted didn't budge from his seat. Instead he remained on the loveseat, his expression making it obvious he expected Amy to join him. She attempted mimicking her earlier, confident stroll, but her legs seemed to falter under her now.

At the loveseat she slid sideways into Ted's lap, one arm slipping behind his neck. Like before his one arm wrapped around her back, his hand reaching around to cuff her tummy and pull her against him while his other settled on her thigh, fingers dipping down onto the inside. She lifted her lips toward him in invitation. The movement caused her legs to fall a little further open, allowing his fingers to dip further down on her inner thigh as he leaned down to her.

The pair disregarded the simple puckering stage and started with soft, open mouth kisses. It didn't take long for these to evolve into the heated, passionate ones with swirling tongues and Amy's hand pressing at the back of his head, forcing a firmer, more intense connection. Her other hand came up so her fingers could scratch lightly at his chest through his shirt. Meanwhile Ted's hand moved to cradle her tit and his fingers gave her lush mound a little squeeze.

Watching this Tom was drawn from his seat. Moving to the chair's side he sat on its armrest. A cursory view of the room told him that all the others were just as mesmerized by the image as him, although probably for different reasons.

And that raised new questions and concerns. What would their friendship with these men become if things did go as far as he was hoping? Hell, what would it be even after this limited interaction? And would they all even take part? Oh, he knew his friends lusted after his wife, of that there was no doubt. But that didn't mean they'd all be willing to take part in a group session.

As they made-out Amy shifted this way and that in his lap, and Tom knew she was rubbing her ass atop their friend's growing cock. These movements caused her legs to slip open a little further and Ted's hand tried crawling up her thigh toward her crotch. But the hand scratching at his shirt dropped down and stopped it, pushing it back a few inches. As if in response to this denial Ted's other hand slid up to the front of her breast to start fondling it through her jersey.

Tom's breath caught and his cock pulsed within his pants. Was he really seeing this? Was he really sitting here watching another man molest his wife's tit while they made-out? Again he wondered if Amy truly understood what was happening, or was he missing . . . possibly ignoring signs of her inebriation?

These were the thoughts going through his mind when the TV announcer once more broke his trance as Amy's team finally managed to score.

"Ok you guys. Time's up," he declared.

It took a moment for them to stop. And even after they did brake their kiss Amy stayed in Ted's lap, while his one hand settled under her breast, cradling it but no longer fondling it. As his wife looked around the room with hazy eyes Tom decided to make one final confirmation that she was in control of her senses.

If she wasn't, he'd put a stop to things.

If she was . . . he had a plan on how to push things further.

Stepping over to the loveseat he took Amy's hand and helped her to her feet. Then he walked her to his chair where he gave her a drink of his water.

"You ok, Baby?" He whispered into her ear.

"Yea. Mm-hmm," she grinned. "Are you?"

"I'm good," he said, making her meet his gaze. "I just wanna make sure that you're aware of what's goin' on, and not too drunk."

"I'm good, Sweetie," she assured him.

Her eyes were focusing, and she wasn't slurring her words, or hesitating in her responses.

He decided to move forward with his plan.

"Alright then," he grinned. "You lost a bet to Bill while you and Ken were kissing."

"I did?" she asked, her tone a mixture of surprise and excitement.

"Yea. Well, I accepted the bet for you," Tom said nonchalantly. "That's ok, isn't it?"

"Um..." she hesitated at this unexpected development. "Yea. I guess."

"Good. I just told him that I had to make sure you weren't too drunk, and that you were okay with me making the wager."

"Ok... Um, yea, like I said."

"Cool," he turned to the guys who were all pretending to watch the game, but were really watching the couple. "Bill, she's good to go. Time for you to collect on that bet." He ended it with an exaggerated wink that she couldn't see.

"Huh?" Bill looked at him questioningly.

Tom had picked Bill specifically because he knew that next to himself, Bill was the soberest, and therefore most likely to catch on quickly and not ruin the plan.

"The wager we made, the one you won. Amy's ready to pay up." He held his breath, hoping his friend would get it.

"Oh, um, yea." Bill agreed quick enough. "Good. Good."

Amy turned to walk over to where Bill sat in a chair. She'd only taken a couple of steps when Tom made her hesitate as he pushed his plan a little further.

"After Bill, you owe George," he said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Turning to look at him over her shoulder she gave him an amused little grin, then continued on.

The expressions on the others in the room made it clear that, while they were all catching on to the fact that Tom was up to something, they were getting there at different speeds.

And none knew just where he was going with it.

That's okay, guys, he thought. You'll see when I know it's worked. And then I guess we'll find out who's up to it.

Amy continued over to slip into Bill's lap. As she wiggled into position, throwing one arm up behind his neck like she had with Ted, he also used one hand to cuff her tummy and pull her into him while his other hand settled on her thigh. Again, she lifted herself up to him and he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. And again, their kisses quickly turn passionate with Amy pressing one hand at the back of his head and the other scratching at his shirt.

But there was one major difference between this session and the others; while Bill's hands rested on Amy's thigh and under her one breast, they made no advances beyond this. Knowing his friend as he did, Tom chalked this up to the fact that Bill didn't have the same level of liquid courage as the others, and NOT that he was simply being gentlemanly.

The two continued to kiss, their lips pressing, tongues swirling. From the way Amy was grinding her ass around in Bill's lap, Tom knew that, while their friend's hands might not be mimicking the others, his cock was. He also knew that after the attention her breasts had already been receiving, his wife would be going crazy wanting Bill to fondle her. And he saw her hand make a couple tentative moves down from where it scratched at Bill's chest as if it was going to grab his arm and direct his hand onto her breast.

But she didn't.

The idea of making their friend fondle her, versus simply letting them, must have crossed some line in her mind.

With his decision made Tom decided to do a bit of prep work. He cleared a couple of forgotten beers from the serving table and gave it a quick wipe with the towel they kept handy for minor spills. He also switched the TV to a music station, not wanting the game to interrupt the progression of things.

When he figured the right amount of time had passed he called a halt to the session. It didn't take as long for them to stop, nor for Amy to pull herself from Bill's lap.

Shoulda felt her up, Tom thought, noticing their friend's slightly dejected expression.

Amy shot him a little smile as she made her way over to where George sat awaiting his "winnings." Then she was in his lap, her body being pulled into him . . . their lips meeting. As their tongues swirled over one another her hand pressed at the back of his head. George's one hand quickly slid into place to cradle her breast, his other caressing a portion of her inner thigh near the hem of her shorts. The hand cradling her tit soon shifted up to cup and fondle her ample mound. The couple were near enough for Tom to hear a soft whimper vibrate in Amy's throat, her fingers clenching, pulling at George's shirt for a moment as she arched her back to press her breast into his grasp. The passion of their kisses grew. The shifting of Amy's body caused her legs to fall a few inches apart . . . the furthest they'd spread all afternoon. Instead of taking this as an opportunity to shove his hand into her crotch, George simply slid it partway up along her inner thigh, settling an inch or so away from her shorts-covered sex. This seemed to fuel Amy's growing desire and she started sliding her ass back and forth atop George's stiffening member, the movement pushing her crotch closer and closer to his caressing fingers.

Watching his wife allowing their friend to grope her while rubbing herself on his cock let Tom know his plan was working. Now he just needed to orchestrate it so he could fulfill the most enviable . . . most desirable . . . portions of his fantasies.

That meant she had to make-out with the last two friends before it went to the next level.

This time when he called a halt to the session he wasn't surprised that they took their time in braking their kiss. He was surprised that George continued fondling her tit while she glanced around the room, the contact ending when she pulled herself from his lap.

Setting on his chair's armrest, Tom indicated for her to join him. As she approached he could tell that her legs were threatening to give out on her. He could also see the desire in her features; the flushed cheeks and smoldering gaze beneath heavy lids. But she had trouble meeting his gaze. One second she was staring into his eyes, hers filled with arousal and conviction. The next her confidence would waiver and her gaze would fall to the floor. Then she'd steel herself, and raise them again.

When she got close enough he reached out with both arms and pulled her to him. Her own arms wrapped around his waist and her head rested on his chest.

"You still ok, Baby?" He whispered.

"Mm-hmm," she mewed quietly.

"Yea? You sure?"

"Yes," she breathed.

He waited a moment, hugging her tight to him and feeling her press herself against his own pulsing bulge.

"Ok then. I guess it's time for you to pay off your next two losses," he said for everyone to hear.

"Mmm," she mewed.

"Joe's up next, then Chris."

"Mmm," she purred before lifting up to give him a simple kiss.

Pulling away, she gave him another amused smile, then turned around and headed over to where Joe sat waiting with his own broad grin. Again the pair melted into one another, lips pressing, tongues swirling, hands groping. And again, her shifting in his lap caused her legs to fall further and further apart. Joe didn't have George's control, and like Ted, he tried sliding his hand up to her crotch. And like Ted, he got denied. But this time as Amy pushed his hand away Tom recognized a lack of conviction in it, her hand lingering on Joe's wrist as his hand obediently settled a few inches away.

Watching all this, Tom felt his own desire growing more and more. With each quiet mew rattling his wife's throat he felt blood pulse to his hardening cock. And as he watched Joe squeeze her tit through her jersey he imagined what it would soon be like to watch someone fondling her breasts without the cloth barrier . . . seeing her freckled mounds being manipulated . . . her swollen, erect nipples being tweaked . . . licked . . . suckled . . .

"Hh-hmm," he cleared his throat, realizing his daydreaming had allowed the session to last a bit longer than he'd meant. "Ok guys. Time."

Again it took another minute for them to actually stop kissing, then another for Amy to extract herself from Joe's lap.

It was only a few steps from Joe to the couch where Chris sat. As she prepared to slide sideways into his lap he stopped her. Instead he maneuvered her into facing him directly and straddling his lap. His arms wrapped around her . . . pulled her into him. The fingers of one hand twined themselves into her hair as his hand settled at the back of her head . . . pressing her lips firmer against his own as she did the same to his. As their lips quickly parted, allowing their tongues to duel, Amy's throat vibrated with a needy mew. The fingers of her free hand scratched at his shoulder. Her ass rolled and shifted within his lap. As the passion of their kissing grew Chris' free hand drew back to her side and cupped her breast . . . giving it a hungry squeeze and eliciting another needy mew from her. Tom soon noticed that Amy wasn't rolling her ass any longer, but rather sliding it back and forth slightly . . .

Damn! She's dry humping him! He thought.

And as the moments passed . . . their lips pressing . . . their tongues swirling . . . and Chris' fingers plying at her breast . . . the intensity of her humping grew. Tom stood there watching his wife rock . . . no . . . shove her crotch against another man's hard cock . . . their clothing the only thing keeping them from fucking.

The image mesmerized Tom . . .

Made his cock throb angrily . . .

It was time to take things to the next level.

He called for the pair to stop. After a few moments they hadn't so he walked over to the couch and laid a gentle hand on Amy's shoulder, again telling them to stop.

This time they heard. Or at least she did.

Pulling her lips away from Chris', she leaned back a little and hung her head forward so that her hair hung down, concealing her profile as she continued grinding against him . . . although with weakening intensity. After another moment she lifted her gaze to Tom. Her lustful expression was tinged with guilt, telling him she questioned why she was doing what she was, but couldn't help herself. In that moment he feared her proper side might overpower the improper one being fueled by the afternoon's events, and she'd put a stop to things progressing.

"It's ok, Baby," he told her with a reassuring smile.

She stared into his eyes. Seeing that he really was okay with things her guilt faded and a relieved sigh slipped past her lips.

Extracting herself from their friend's lap she took her husband's hand. On trembling legs she followed him to the serving table at the center of the room. He positioned her with her back to the group. Setting one hand on her waist he took her chin in the other's fingers and tilted her head back so he could gaze down into her eyes. His blood raced at the strength of the heat smoldering beneath her heavy lids . . . the hunger . . . the desire there . . . it was like nothing he'd seen before. Her panting breath slipped past her trembling lip. Lower, the swell of her breast under her jersey, topped by hard, erect nipples, quivered with her unsteady breaths.

"It's alright," he whispered, his hands sliding down to the front of her shorts.

"My god, Baby," she panted, hesitant, but wanting.

"All you gotta do is say 'No'," he assured her.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

"I love you," she exhaled.

"And I love you," he grinned.

He undid the snap to her shorts . . .

Amy inhaled sharply . . .

Then she held her breath as he slowly drew the zipper down . . .

Her lip quivered as his hands slid out to either side, thumbs hooking the waistband . . .

She bit her lip as he pushed them down off her hips . . .

With an assisting shimmy on her part the shorts fell into a puddle around her ankles.

She stood in the center of the room with their friends staring at her taunt little tush covered by only her skimpy white panties.

Groans of approval came from the men.