Hurricane Party Ch. 03

I thought about my plan to "win by losing" and wryly scolded Fate for being so cruel: each time I'd sneakily discarded a pair in my 5-card draw, I'd been dealt an even higher pair. Or even 3 of a kind. WHY didn't I get this kind of luck when I was trying to WIN? But it was my turn to deal, so I showed off my card skills by rapidly and accurately sliding the cards around the table, then picked up my hand to find.... nothing. Absolutely NOTHING. I mean not even any card higher than a 7. THANK you, Fate! Maybe it would be *my* time to show off a bit. I stood pat, even though if anyone was paying attention, they would notice that I passed up a draw with N-O-T-H-I-N-G. I was counting on the fact that there were 2 panty-less young women at the table - to keep anybody from noticing a detail like that.

The draw was completed and the hands were shown.

And I began to suspect that I wasn't the only one who was TRYING to lose. The hands were pathetic - except for Dave and Chuck. I guess that their male ego's hadn't allowed them to even consider losing on purpose.

When the hands were shown, we had a tie for "loser" - between Brittany, Butch, Marla, and me. We tacitly had agreed that "high card" didn't count as a poker hand, so 4 of us had absolutely nothing.

Before anybody might start to suspect that *some* of us were "throwing the game," I jumped up and made a big show of being so disappointed that I had lost.

"Oh, my god! Can you believe my luck! I mean to have absolutely NOTHING in my hand! Oh My! Well, well, well, I guess I'm going to have to take something off! What should it be? I mean, I could wimp out and just take off my bra from under my dress, but, to be fair, the girls have kind of established the pattern that we ladies will choose to lose our panties first and I am definitely a lady, sooooo."

First, I locked eyes with Dave. My sweet husband. Kind of begging permission. Bless him, he silently just closed his eyes and smiled, then flicked his eyes to Chuck. He knew what this party had become and what I wanted.

So. Second. I fixed Chuck with a stare, summoned up my best seductive voice and, in what I thought sounded like, perhaps, Greta Garbo, I purred, "Mr. Reynolds, would you do me the honor of removing my panties? Please?"

Chuck colored, then flushed, then looked to Marla. His wife. To ask if she was OK with peeling off the panties of her best friend - in front of their children - and mine.

Marla checked herself. Validated her jealousy. But then suppressed it. Smiled, tilted her head a bit, and cooed, in her best Southern accent, "Why, Mea-stah Rey-nolds! I do decla-ah that yo-ah blushing! DO collect yo-ah-self and 'do' the lady the ho-naw she has requested of you-ah."

Marla primped. Proud of herself. Then added, "And if you-ah play yo-ah cahds right, you-ah ah he-re-by re-quest-ed to also re-move yo-ah lady-wife's bloom-ah's as way-el."

Another primp. Then she added, in her regular voice, "and if you KEEP playing your cards right, you're likely to get to 'do' a lady or two - more than just an honor, buster!"

Everybody broke out laughing - providing the comic relief we all needed. It was steamy before we started and it was getting really really hot at our little Hurricane Party.

But. Actions were required, so I shuffled over to Chuck, pulled out his chair so that he was facing away from the table and I was facing toward it (so that I could show off, of course), put my hands on my hips, pinched my sundress on each hip, and S-L-O-W-L-Y inched my hem up.

Up over my knees (I mean, Mom's have to keep their modesty: below-the-knee hems. Definitely).
Up my thighs. Oh, my god, when was the last time that ANYBODY stared at my thighs - in lust?
And Chuck was definitely lusting at the sight of my thighs.
I glanced around the table and was a bit disturbed that my son, Eric, was also paying WAY too much attention to his mother's thighs.
But quickly glanced to Dave, and was gratified that he, too, was rivetted to the sight. Not jealous. Understanding that this wasn't an affair I was having. It had nothing to do with our relationship. It was just fun. Naughty, NAUGHTY fun.
Then back to Chuck. Ripped Chuck. Best-friend's husband Chuck. Fantasy-fodder Chuck.

My pussy took charge of me as it had that night before - when I had taken my naked tour of the neighborhood. She purred. She primped. She antici.....pated being naughty. Being SO, SO naughty.
Anticipated being revealed.
To Chuck.
To my best friend's children.
To *my* children!!!

And my pussy shot a satisfied warmth out thru my whole being. Made me HOT and desperately WANTING to be lusted after.

Yes, by Chuck.
Yes, by Missy and Butch.
and even, god help me, yes, by my own son, Eric.

My hem rose and revealed my panties.

Oh!

Oh my GOD! Nobody had planned for this to turn into a sex party, so I hadn't chosen lingerie with "display" in mind.

OhMyGod! I suddenly realized that I was in my "Mom" panties. Just white, full-cut, a little lace. Nothing sexy at all.

I blushed deeply, but realized that "at least they don't have any stains or rips." That would have to suffice.

But nobody else seemed to notice what kind of panties I was wearing. Well, maybe the women there did, but the guys couldn't have cared at all. I relaxed and remembered the old line: "Q: You know how you get a man to lust after you? A: You show up." That's all that's needed.

So. I kind of quickened the pace of my "curtain going up" act, and raised my hem all the way to my belly-button, kicking aside internal worries about my middle-aged belly and stretch marks from 2 kids and..... and "Holy-shit, woman," I thought to myself, "Here you are worried about your stretch marks from 2 kids - and those 2 kids are now adults and watching you slowly strip for a man who isn't their father." OOOOKayyyy....

I looked down at Chuck, but his eyes were glued to my hips. My panty-covered hips.

He seemed to be waiting, so I gently prompted, "Showtime, Mr Reynolds! Time for the curtain to fall, please." And I couldn't stop myself from adding, "Strip me, Chuck. God help me, STRIP me right here in front of your wife, your kids, my husband, and my kids. STRIP me, NOW!"

That kind of shocked everybody, but I just wasn't myself. "Somebody" else had said it, perhaps helped along by a certain amount of alcohol that one consumes while waiting out a hurricane....

A moment.

Then Chuck put his hands on my knees. Laid his big, manly hands cupping each knee, then SLOWLY slid them up. Up. Up my thighs. Breathing rapidly. Up. To the leg-bands of my white, unsexy Mommy panties.

Then slipped one finger inside each side, clasped his fingers and thumbs, and began to slide down.

Down.

Pulling my knickers down my thighs.

Pulling my PANTIES down while I held my hem around my waist.

While Chuck's wife watched. Chuck's kids watched. My husband watched. My *son* watched.... very intently.

Slowly the upper hem slid down revealing my belly. Inch by inch. Until my furr finally emerged. Black as it had always been, but beginning to get little traces of lighter shades. OK. OK. Maybe if I'd known that I was going to be in a strip show, I might have trimmed my bush - or considered coloring the strands. But, like with my panty choice, I hadn't exactly had an opportunity to prepare.

But on Chuck's hands went. Dragging my panties down. Down.

My mind flashed to earlier in the evening when I had fantasized about exactly this. About *exactly* this scenario - where Chuck was, indeed, divesting me of my panties. It just felt SOoooo gooood!

And. Then. It was done. My panties dropped below my pussy and Chuck quickly pushed them down my thighs so that they lightly met the floor.

All eyes were on me. Looking at MY PUSSY!!!!

It felt SO exhilarating! So incredibly affirming! So horribly naughty! So NASTY to be showing off my pussy. My PUSSY!

I stepped out of my panties, then did a slow turn to show off my butt.

Then back around, and I didn't even think about what I was doing as I slid my hands down to kind of "fluff" my pussy fur. To primp a little. And, in the process, pull my lips open to "hand groom" my lady lips.

I realized that ALL eyes were on my slit now. Including mine. As I primped - and, in doing so, unintentionally fully exposed my labia, my clitoris, and the substantial lubrication coating my sex. I was nearly dripping. It just felt SO good to be the center of so much appreciative attention. It felt like it had been SO long.

But. I took a deep breath. Dropped my hem. Looked around the circle and said, "Marla, I believe you're next?"

I returned to my seat as Marla slowly rose. She was wearing a T-shirt over a sports bra, jean shorts, and whatever panties she'd chosen for the hurricane. I guess she hadn't "dressed sexy", either since that wasn't a remote possibility to us when we'd dressed this morning.

Marla slowly looked around. Embarrassed. But turned on, too, finding that "being the sexual center of attention again" after years of feeling invisible to men - was pretty intoxicating. She faced Chuck - still in his seat facing away from the table we were all around, and spread her arms wide - just inviting him to - well - to strip her.

She looked around, then her eyes flew open in realization. "OhMyGod!," she squeaked, "I didn't think! I just went along with the panty removal, but I forgot that I'll have the same problem that Missy had: once my shorts come off, they have to stay off!"

She bit her lip for a moment, then squared her shoulders and said, "Oh, well. Do pro-cede Mis-tah Ray-nalds, as you plea-ahs."

Chuck looked embarrassed by the riches being showered on him: 2 ladies asking for his help in losing their underwear, but at least this was his wife. Nothing really unusual here. Just stripping her and baring her intimates. In front of their children. And his friend. And his friends' wife - who he had just stripped. And their kids. Nope. Nothing unusual here.

But the mood was playful and loving and "husband-and-wife-reaffirming-their-sexuality-together" as Chuck pulled Marla to him, her long blonde hair trailing out behind her. He pulled up her T-shirt to bare her belly and planted a great big bubbling "blart" there, then wrapped his arms all the way around her hips and just pressed his face to her belly for a moment. Marla blushed a bit as she looked around at the 6 pairs of eyes watching back. But she was happy. As perverted as it was beginning to feel, this was still happy "family" time.

Chuck pulled back, pretended to examine Marla's jean shorts, then proclaimed, "Why I do de-clah, Madam Rai-nalds, you seem to be ovah-dressed for this pahr-tick-u-lar o-CA-shun! Allow me to as-sist youah gracious self in remedy-an that sit-u-AY-shun!"

Marla giggled. And it was so wonderful to hear another "middle aged woman" GIGGLE. Just a delightful, happy, unabashed giggle.

The giggle was partly because of the overall situation. But also partly because Chuck's fingertips were dancing at the top of her shorts - gently tickling her bared middle.

He tickled and she giggled as he moved to the button on her waistband, popped it open, zipped open the zipper, then unceremoniously yanked Marla's ensemble right off.

Both her shorts and panties.

Just suddenly "down periscope" from her waist to her ankles, then playfully buried his nose right into her blonde curlies. Yes, Marla is a natural blonde: the Upper Case and Lower Case are the same font, so to speak.

Marla shrieked, laughing - partly because her husband was nuzzling her private parts in front of everybody - and partly because it was a bit of a shock to suddenly have the air assault her hips, her butt, and her pussy, despite the air being generally quite warm.

Chuck kind of lost himself, wrapped his arms around Marla's hips and butt, picked her up and set her right on the table. Bare assed. Then coaxed her thighs wide apart (!!) and spent a good 60 seconds really feasting on his wife's exposed dainties. Licking and gently sucking, poking his tongue right up into her. Really losing himself in the passion of the moment. And the silliness of it. I guess that the previously-mentioned alcohol might have had something to do with his abandon, and it was a joy to watch.

Even though their own children - and mine - were watching. Their expressions kind of shifting between being fascinated - and looking like they were viewing baby vomit. I mean... who wants to watch their Dad eat their Mom's pussy?

On the other hand, Brittany and Missy seemed to be wishing that some of the boys they knew might have been there taking notes.

I mean... yes... *I* was raptly watching, and Chuck really did seem to know his way around a vagina! Mine poked me and silently signalled that it wouldn't mind that kind of "assault" at all. Not at all...

But shortly, Marla began tapping Chuck on the head to remind him that he was *eating his wife* in front of his children and that, maybe.... perhaps.... it was time to get back to the group activity.

Even though the group activity seemed to be leading to "having sex with and in front of your family."

A-HEM.

Brittany stood and spoke up. "Uh, Butch. You and I both lose an item of clothing. Shall we strip each other?" She seemed to really enjoy using somewhat shocking language.

Butch cast a long glance at his sister, Missy. Just what IS going on between those two? But then he stood, moved over to stand in front of Brittany, and nodded.

"Count of three," instructed Brittany. "You strip me of my skirt. I get your shorts."

Butch allowed Brittany to make the choice for him and they spent a few seconds loosening those two items: Brit showed Butch how to unzip and unfasten her little skirt, then she loosened the button on his shorts and unzipped the fly.

"OK. Ready? On three," reminded Brittany.

Butch nodded - hands poised on Brittany's hips. Brittany with her fingers in Butch's waistband.

"OK. One."

"Two..."

"Two and three eighths" (Butch flinched, then recovered, smiling).

"Two and.... uhhh... what's more than three eighths?" (Brit was never good at math).

"Ummm... seven eighths?" prompted Butch.

"OK, Two and.... THREE!" hollered Brittany as she scooped her hands down Butch's hips - gleefully dragging both his shorts - and his briefs - all the way down his legs and to the floor, tapping his feet so that Butch reflexively lifted and allowed Brittany to pull his shorts and briefs all the way off and fling them across the room.

Totally baring Butch except for his polo shirt. His cock swinging beneath his shirt.

Pandemonium.

I surveyed the riot.

Butch shocked and objecting that that wasn't fair: that she was only supposed to take his shorts. He still legally had his briefs to wear.

The general onlookers both amused by Butch's sudden exposure - and variously involved in the argument of Brittany's cheating.

Brittany quickly standing, putting Butch's hands back on her skirt, and assisting him in removing her only clothing from boobs down - very-effectively baring Brittany's totally-shaved pussy. Again. For the... what was it? Third time so far today? Then she dropped to her knees again in front of Butch and just.... swallowed.... his cock. Swallowed Butch's great big, oh-my-god-I-had-no-idea-that-my-best-friend's-son-was-so-damned-well-endowed cock. His COCK. Dammit, now all I could think about was Butch's monster.... uhhh... one-eyed monster.

As my mostly-naked daughter knelt in front of him greedily slurping on it.

And as my bare-to-the-air pussy tingled at the thought of what it might do with that trouser snake.

Yes, indeed, alcohol was definitely playing its part in guiding my thoughts. Or mis-guiding them.

But, I mean really, that cock was... well, it wasn't "porn star" size, but it was the biggest cock I'd ever seen in person.

And it was growing rapidly. Filling my daughter's mouth. As her father looked on. And as her brother's eyes widened to a level rarely seen. Eric was behind Brittany so as she knelt and leaned to suck Butch's cock, Eric was getting a pretty-open view of his sister's bare, shaved pussy lips and butt cheeks - and asshole - from behind.

He was simply mesmerized and his hands just developed their own ideas as they pushed his shorts and boxers down and off. Just unceremoniously stripped all of his clothing right off - there with his mother watching (that would be me), and began to touch his own respectable cock as he stared at his sister's secret places - and began to masturbate.

I began to feel that perhaps we were getting a bit beyond "the line." Whatever "line" we intended to restrict ourselves to. That the situation was making us get out of control and risk doing things we might regret. The confinement. The alcohol. The heat. The humidity. The incessant damned rain. The wind. The implied danger that, well, "tomorrow we may die so tonight we party."

I tore my eyes away from my masturbating son. From my daughter feasting on that cock. On that *amazing* cock. From Chuck's muscles and the thought of *his* cock.

And I found my husband's eyes. Found my husband, Dave, looking troubled.

A silent message passed between us and Dave made a decision and stood, then yelled above the din and called for attention. "OK. OK, everybody! This is clearly getting out of hand. I hate to be the party poop, but we're getting totally out of control and we're going to wind up doing something that we'll regret. We really need to take a breath and regroup and just calm down for a minute and think about what we're doing here!"

The activity slowly ceased.

Eric was still stark naked and his cock was fully erect and pointing at his sister's exposed pussy lips, but he stopped stroking himself.

Brittany raised her head and let Butch's cock slip out of her mouth. That huge, delicious, wonderful coc.... no. NO! I have to get myself under control.

And we all looked at Dave.