Missy's Mistake

We don't get many visitors but it's not that we don't want them... We're nice people and we like good company. So, when one of our distant friends said he was in the area on business, my husband jumped at the chance to invite him over for dinner. Not having any other plans except the hotel restaurant, he willingly accepted. My husband was at work all day so it was left to me to prepare the house and make the dinner, seen as it was my day off from the restaurant that I manage. I like my house to be clean when people come round, so I put the extra effort in and got rather sweaty doing so. Four o'clock quickly came around and I'd just taken the chocolate cake out of the oven, so I thought I'd better jump in the shower as our guest would arrive in about an hour and a half.

I quickly disrobed, piling my sweat soaked clothes on the floor so that I could put them in hamper when I went to get dressed in my room. I stepped into the Italian shower and let the warm water cascade down my body, first the front, tickling my bare breasts and nipples, running down to my trimmed mons. And then, turning around, I dipped my head back so the water could drench my hair and run down my back and between my butt cheeks. I slathered my hair in my favorite white peach shampoo and got to work getting all sparkly clean. When I got around to washing my private area, I took my time, as I liked to wash there several times to make sure it's very clean. I have to admit, it also wasn't a displeasure to stroke over my clitoris a few times either... But i didn't have time for that today so I just thoroughly cleansed myself. I was just finishing rinsing between my butt cheeks when I heard the doorbell.

"Damn it..." I muttered.

Knowing full well that our house is on the later part of the postman's rounds, I grabbed my robe, stuck my feet in my shower slippers and headed to the front door, fully expecting to greeted by the postman.

I opened the door and peeked around the doorframe to see our guest standing there smiling at me.

"Michael!" I exclaim. "You're early..."

He quickly glanced down, taking in my lack of clothes and the water still trickling down my bare legs.

"Oh, erm, not too early I hope... I can go and sit in the car if it's a problem?"

Not wanting to make him sit out in the cold and being a good hostess, I open the door wider and say, "Not at all. Come on in, I'll fix you a drink and then go get dressed."

His smile widens, his almond shaped eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you, that's very kind of you." He brushes past me and I swear I hear him inhale deeply.

I smile and ask him what he'd like to drink.

"A coffee would be great thanks, I haven't actually managed to have one yet today..."

"French press or Italian espresso?"

"Whichever is easiest..."

They're both literally the easiest things in the world to make, so i just decide on an Italian espresso. I put the coffee maker on the ring and say, "Would you mind watching that and turning it off when it's ready? If it's ok with you I'll just go and quickly dry my hair and get dressed. I'll try not to be very long. If you want to put the tv on, feel free."

"No problem Missy, take your time."

I head to my room, which is just down the hall from the kitchen. We live in a bungalow so everything on the same level. I sit down at my vanity mirror, smear some styling goop around my roots and start drying my hair. It doesn't take me long to wonder what Michael is up to and I switch off the hairdryer for a second or two. I hear tv noise coming from the living room so I assume he's sitting on the sofa, watching the tv.

My thoughts begin to wander as I'm brushing my locks and I start to think about Michael. He's certainly not bad looking. 5'9 with short salt and pepper hair which his gray eyes match nicely. At 43, he still had to work a bit, to stave off that middle aged paunch and he's succeeded quite nicely while bulking himself up a bit with some nicely defined muscles.

I finish drying my hair and then go and choose clean underwear. I slip into a simple white cotton thong and matching push up bra, watching myself in the mirror as I do so. I'm 5'5 with dark brown shoulder length hair with copper highlights and big mocha colored eyes with gold flecks in my irises. I'm not a stunner by any means but I'm also not ugly, and my not too big, slightly pixie-like nose and slightly plump lips help with this. Sometimes, I wish my mouth could be plumper... I've seen what those girls in the YouTube videos do to their lips to make them plump though, and I just think... no way... So I try to be happy with what I've got.

I also carry more weight than I'd like, im about 15lbs over my ideal weight. But again, what's the point of not being happy with what you've got. It gives my booty a little extra shake and means I've got more to put into the push up bra, so I never work too hard trying to get rid of it. I'm 35 and to be honest, if I was this weight and size for the rest of my life, I'd be fine with it.

I finish getting dressed, putting on cream colored pants with a soft, lilac colored jumper that had a low yet modest neckline. Fifteen minutes later I head back out to the living room. I'm a bit perplexed as I don't see Michael sitting on the sofa. I deduce he must be in the kitchen with his coffee, so I make my way there, only to see the coffee maker still on the ring, but with the ring turned off. Quite confused now, I call out his name.

"Michael?!"

Silence for a second, and then, "Yes?"

He emerges from the bathroom with a towel, in the process of drying his hands.

"Oh, sorry..." I say, "I didn't know where you were..."

"Didn't mean to confuse you, I was watching a tv program and then I just went to use the bathroom."

I'm now feeling mortified, as I've just remembered the pile of dirty clothes on the bathroom floor. I feel my eyes slip to the bathroom and my cheeks start to warm up. Michael has a slight smile on his lips as he turns towards the kitchen. I'm pretty sure he knows I'm super embarrassed about him seeing my dirty discarded clothes but seen as this is due to him arriving early and not sloppiness, I try to get past it.

"I'll just grab my coffee now", he calls, as he walks away.

I follow him and get two cups from the dishwasher and say, "I'll have some too."

I pour us some coffee and then we sit down at the kitchen table to drink it.

"So", I start, "hows things?"

His brow creases slightly and his eyes slide away from mine, down to his coffee cup and he starts to fiddle with the handle.

"Not too great actually... Things aren't good with Karen..."

Feeling instantly sympathetic, I put my hand over his and say, "Why, what's the matter?"

He squeezes my hand and holds on whilst staring into my eyes and starts to tell me all about it.

"She's been seeing someone else."

I gasp.

"According to her, it started a few weeks ago but I wouldn't be surprised if it's been going on longer than that. We haven't been getting on for a while now. We live together but it's just like we're friends rather than lovers. We haven't had sex in over 9 months..."

I feel like this is slightly over-sharing but I can't tell him to not share personal details, as this is his story, his pain. And, I also kind of know how he feels. John and I rarely have sex. We love each other a lot but he often works late, and is always tired when he comes home. I'm on my own a lot, so I've gotten very used to seeing to my own needs. But everyone knows it's not the same thing...

"I just don't know what to do with myself. I feel so alone, so powerless... I don't know why she doesn't just move out if she doesn't want to be with me. I don't want to leave as I'm the one who pays for the house..."

"Oh wow," I mutter.

He's still staring into his coffee and I realize he's started absentmindedly stroking my hand with his thumb. I don't feel very comfortable with that but I don't feel right just pulling my hand away when it's so obvious he needs some emotional comfort.

"I'm so sorry... is there anything we can do?" I thought that mentioning my husband John might make him let go of my hand.

He continues to stroke my hand, running his thumb in little circles.

Obviously not...

He takes a deep breath, let's most of it out in a whoosh and starts to say something, "Well..."

My mobile starts to ring on the kitchen counter where I left it before my shower. I carefully slip my hand out from Michaels and walk over to answer my phone.

I see Johns name flashing on the screen.

"Hi honey, how are you?" He asks.

"Fine, fine." I say. And then I tell him, "Michael is already here."

"Oh darn..."

I don't like the sound of that.

"I was going to call him after I'd called you... There's a big problem here at work, a bit of a meltdown going on with the finances. I'm not going to be home until much later... I thought that I'd have time to call Michael and tell him not to come..."

"How much later is later?"I ask.

"Around midnight I suspect..."

"Oh."

"Listen, seen as he's already there, why don't you guys go ahead and eat without me, watch a movie or something and I'll try get home a little before midnight, if he's still there, then I'll say a quick hello before he leaves..."

I thought about it for a second. I didn't think it would be right to tell Michael to leave just because John wasn't going to be home... Michael might be one of Johns old buddies first and foremost but we've also been friends for five years, as long as John and I have been together, and I didn't want to make him feel unwelcome, especially not when he's having such a rough time.

"Ok, we'll do that then."

"Wonderful, I'll see you and hopefully, Michael, later then."

"Don't work too hard..." I remind him. "Oh, and make sure you get something to eat!"

He chuckles, "Always looking out for me... See you later."

I say bye and then turn around to face Michael who's still sitting at the table with a curious look on his face. He says, "I'm guessing John can't make it?"

I sigh slightly and shake my head. "No, there's a problem at work, he has to stay there until it's sorted. That's the price you pay for being your own boss..."

He purses his lips and nods. With a slight disappointed look, he starts to rise and says, "Well, I guess I'll leave you to it."

I wave my hands at him in a sit down gesture and he freezes mid motion.

"There's no reason for you to leave. Look, I've cooked dinner anyway so let's not waste it. And John says if he gets home before you leave he can at least say hi..."

"What time will that be?"

"Some time around midnight but he's not sure."

He seems to think a little bit about it and a few seconds later says, "What the hell. It'll be nice to spend the evening with you. To be honest, it's been a while since I've spent an enjoyable evening with anyone... What with what's been happening at home."

He gives a sad little smile.

"Ok it's settled. We'll open a bottle of wine with dinner, watch a film, have a nice evening... And if you drink too much you can always stay in the guest room."

His smile widens a bit, "Deal!"

I go about setting the table for the two of us, serve the roast beef with trimmings and open a bottle of red. We always have a good stock of wine in but I don't know much about it, so I let Michael choose. I also put some background dinner music on as I didn't want there to be any uncomfortable silences.

We eat relatively quickly. Michael didn't seem to want to discuss his girlfriend too much and I didn't want to push him. I leaned a long time ago that when someone wants to talk, they'll talk at their own pace, so I let him take his time.

When we'd finished with dinner we both felt a little too full to have desert, so we decided to wait until later and instead opened up a second bottle of wine. I'm not a big drinker, so I was only on my third glass but Michael seemed to be putting it away well. Wine always makes my crotch feel all tingly and heavy, almost like I'm turned on. But I know it's really just the alcohol affecting my blood flow. It feels nice anyway.

"So, what shall we watch then?" I offered a Michael the choice seen as he was the guest.

"Let me have a look at what you've got..." He says, wandering over to the dvd cabinet.

He peruses for a couple of minutes, all the while sipping his wine. Finally, he selects one and says, "I've never seen this, what's it like?"

I look at the cover and almost spit out my wine. Fatal Attraction might not be the best choice at the moment...

"Uhhh, it's a good film, good actors, lots of things going on... I don't want to give the plot of the film away but it might not be the best choice for tonight..."

He looks at me a little bemused. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Ok then..."

He hands me the dvd and I slide it into the DVD player. The tv starts up automatically while we make ourselves comfortable at opposite ends of the 3 seater sofa.

Being a good hostess I ask, "Are you ok for a drink?"

He looks at his glass and sees that it's half full. "I might need another one in ten minutes or so..."

I get back up to fetch the wine and bring it with me to the sofa, placing it next to Michael.

"It's there when you want a refill."

He says, "Thank you," and smiles.

The film had already begun while I was getting the wine. I pull the blanket off of the back of the sofa and put it over my legs, tucking my feet up under my bum. I picked my wine up off the floor and I was all settled in.

"Can I put my feet under the blanket too?" Michael asked.

I was a little uncomfortable with that but it wasn't inappropriate so I said, "Ok."

I had already doubled it up on top of me, so I just unfolded it and threw it over his feet after he'd removed his shoes.

"Thank you, that ought to keep the chill off."

I understood what he meant because I always get a little cold after eating.

The film progressed and we carried on drinking, less so me than Michael. When I went to fetch the third bottle of wine, I thought it might be time to switch to something soft, as my head was spinning. I've no idea how Michael was faring, though he seemed to be handling it just fine.

Things got a little awkward when I got back to the sofa, when the film got to a sex scene. We both sat staring at the screen, me, desperately wishing for the scene to be over and Michael, well... Out of the corner of my eye I saw Michael shifting about a little bit. I did wonder whether this was because he was uncomfortable about watching a sex scene, or whether the sex scene had made things uncomfortable for him... Either way, it was none of my business.

Michael kept shifting about as the film went on, all the while sipping his wine. I started to get a bit sleepy with the wine and the heat from the blanket and my eyes started drooping. A couple of minutes later I feel the couch start shaking slightly. I open my eyes and look over at Michael who had his hand in front of his face, his shoulders shaking up and down, silently sobbing with tears running off his chin.

Alarmed, I sat up, saying, "Michael what's wrong?"

Still sobbing, he manages to shake out a reply, "I can't... I'm not... I'm so... I can't do this anymore!"

And with that, he wails. It was pretty heart wrenching for me to see a big strong man break apart like that if I'm honest.

I take the wine glass out of his hand, set it on the floor and scoot up next to him. I know what I would need if this was my world breaking apart, so I hug him. He stiffens up for a second but then leans into me and accepts my comfort. He wraps his arms around me and cries onto my shoulder. His arms are pretty tight but I don't tell him to loosen them. He obviously needs an anchor right now and I guess that's me.

"It's ok, it's ok..."I croon softly.

A few minutes later he starts to quieten down a little and just seems to be slightly rocking us both, for comfort I think.

His mouth is buried in my sweater so I just barely make it out when he says, "Please can I keep cuddling you?"

I know he needs it. Who wouldn't?!

"Sure," I say. "Just let me get a little bit more comfortable."

My back was burning a little from holding us both upright. He reluctantly lets me go and I scoot back over to my side of the sofa, arranging the pillows behind and beside me so that I'm still sitting up but he'll be able to cuddle into my side. He half crawls over to my side, looks me in the eye and says, "Thank you."

That's when I notice he's bleary eyed, and not just from crying. I guess a guy has to get drunk to let all of that emotion out.

He cuddles into me, wrapping his arms around my waist and putting his head on my shoulder. He tries to throw the blanket over us both but doesn't do a very good job of it. It's mostly over me and some of him but not covering his feet. He seems to decide to just give up on it.

We go back to watching the film which is about halfway through. I'm getting quite hot, what with the blanket and the heat radiating from Michael. I suddenly realize that I can hear him snoring softly. He's fallen asleep on me! Now what do I do...? If I move, I wake him up and he might start crying again, or worse, throw up from being drunk... If I stay where I am, he'll probably wake up in a little while feeling quite sheepish. I decide to stay where I am and continue watching the film.

My eyes are starting to droop quite heavily about ten minutes later. I can't seem to stay awake with the heat and the wine affecting me. I try to snuggle down a bit more so that my head isn't lolling to one side unsupported and I manage to squeeze down enough to make my head fall against a pillow, which means my body is more parallel with Michaels. Michael hasn't even budged, his arms are still firmly wedged around me. I sigh with the relief of being comfortable and let my eyes close.

The next thing I know, I'm being brought back to consciousness by a hand stroking the skin on my belly. There's a hand under my sweater. I groggily think John has come home but then I think, why would he be feeling me up when his friend is asleep next to me? I suddenly come more awake when the hand moves up and softly brushes the top of my breast above my bra.

Michael is touching me... Is he asleep or does he know what he's doing? If he's asleep, do I wake him? I have to wake him up, right? I can't just let him carry on feeling me up...

I decide to try and move his hand. I grab his wrist under my sweater and try to pull. He doesn't want to move. It's like trying to move steel. I turn my head a little and whisper, "Michael!"

He doesn't respond so I say it a bit more urgently, "MICHAEL!"

I hear him sigh and softly say, "Karen..."

Oh no... He thinks I'm Karen... I didn't think this could get any worse...

I was wrong.

He moves his hand down and I feel relieved, thinking he's going to move his hand out from under my sweater. But what he actually does is push up my bra up over my breast and completely cover my boob with his hand, squeezing slightly. Now, I'm not saying it didn't feel good to have my boob handled like that, he wasn't hurting me, it's just that I didn't want this to happen. What if my husband found us like this? How on earth could I explain this away? And how are Michael and I going to face each other in the morning, knowing that he accidentally groped my boob?!

He starts squeezing and releasing my boob, moving it around and rolling my nipple between his stretched out fingers. Unfortunately, this actually feels good, even though I don't want it to. I start to feel little lightening bolts shooting from my nipple, straight down to my pussy. I shouldn't be feeling that. I shouldn't be enjoying another mans touch. I had to stop it because I didn't know how far sleepy Michael was going to want to go.