Suburban Style

I sat at the small round table outside the mall coffee shop, sipping caffeinated froth and chatting with my wife, Dina, and Ted and Cheryl. We ran into the couple while running weekend errands and decided to catch up with each other's news after not having seen each other for an unusually long two months.

We made a good-looking foursome in a shabby-Saturday-at-the-mall sort of way. We all wore the uniform of jeans and T-shirts. The conversation was pleasant, but the longer we chatted the more our words sounded like nonsense syllables as my mind kept flipping back to the last time I saw Cheryl and Ted. They stood without a thread of clothing on, in the hallway of their house, saying goodbye to us after that incredible party. Cheryl had worn her hair up in a fancy do that night, emphasizing the nakedness of her fair, delicate shoulders, her small breasts pressed against Ted's darker, hairy torso.

But today, her dense, deliberately tousled mane fell just past her shoulders, an outward manifestation of her sense of carefully mischievous fun. Ted was the more reserved contrast, looking exotic with his bushy black mustache he'd grown since we last saw each other. I had pretty much given up on fighting back my imaginings that stripped away jeans and T-shirts, picturing the pair wearing only their skin, cock and cunt on display. I was having trouble believing the others in our impromptu coffee klatch weren't having similar thoughts, when Cheryl finally acknowledged the elephant sitting at the table.

"By the way, I enjoyed getting your thank-you note," Cheryl said to Dina. My wife's cheeks flushed pink, and would turn to red a few seconds later as Cheryl mocked, "Sorry you didn't sleep well that night."

Dina fell uncomfortably speechless, until Ted piped up, "We had some after-party partying at our house too." He smiled and shook his head, "I thought that party was a bad idea, but Cheryl turned out to be right. I thought it went pretty well."

That was enough to burst the dam for Dina: "I felt the same before it started. It sounded like it would be something really crude, but I couldn't imagine you doing anything sleazy, Cheryl. I never would have believed I would say this about a room full of naked people, but the whole thing was really kind of sweet."

"Well you're going to love Cheryl's next idea then," Ted warned.

"Uh oh," said Dina. "What are you cooking up now?"

"Hey, didn't I just hear you guys agreeing how wrong you were and how right I was about the last party?" Said Cheryl. "How quickly they turn."

I encouraged, "OK, let's hear about the next society gathering from our avant-garde hostess."

"Very funny," said Cheryl. "I just thought we might take the party to the next level"

"How can there possibly be a next level from everyone having all their clothes pulled off?" Dina said, then paused. "Oh no, Cheryl, you wouldn't."

"Hear me out first," said Cheryl. "We all got along so well two months ago, I thought it might be adventurous and fun for us to get back together and act out our favorite fantasy."

All four of us fell silent, until Dina said, incredulously, "Group sex?"

"No," said Cheryl, explaining patiently, "Not a group grope or anything like that. I really am a pretty conventional heterosexual, despite these couple of wacky party ideas. I was just thinking of a way we'd pair up with the partner of our choice for some adult activities that would consensual, chaperoned, and fun."

"You're going to have sex with someone other than Ted and do it in front of other people?" Said Dina, still having trouble processing a never-imagined scenario. I hadn't said anything, but I was having some of the same trouble with the proposal.

Dina turned to Ted and said, "You're OK with this?"

"I admit I'm still working on it," he said. "But we've been talking about it a lot, as you might figure. Cheryl did make that last party work. I've also been swayed as I thought about a couple of potential guests I might like to fool around with. This would be a once-in-a-lifetime way to do more than just fantasize about some people I know, and to do it in a way that I won't get in trouble with Cheryl."

"I don't know about you guys," added Ted, putting his arm around Cheryl, "but since the party, sex in our house has been better than ever."

The table fell silent again. I started thinking about how sex in our house had improved as well. Dina and I had done some never-before experimenting, and started talking more regularly about likes and dislikes. Then from out of nowhere I thought of Sally Fullerton who I got to see strip at the last party, and the possibility of actually putting my hands on her enormous, soft breasts. Suddenly, I thought this was a party that must be held.

I took a chance at trying to turn Dina's thinking, and said, "Last time we needed Amy's support to finally get us to the party."

"Welll," said Cheryl, "Amy said they decided not to come."

"Too edgy for them," said Ted.

"That's surprising," watching my tactic go down in flames. "After the show she put on at your house, mainly at my expense, I would have thought she'd sign on with gusto."

"You sound a little too disappointed," teased Dina. "Has anyone else said they would come?"

"You're the third couple I've invited so far," said Cheryl. "I'm figuring it will be a smaller group than before. Pam and Terrence said they plan to be there."

"Terrence Dunn said he'll be at the party," said Dina, a little too quickly. Then she clammed up again.

But Cheryl didn't let her get away with it: "Sooo Dina. A black man takes your clothes off and now you want to come back for more?"

Dina's face reddened again. She took a last sip of latte or whatever it was and said, with just a hint of a smirk, "So what if I do?"

Several more conversations would be required before Dina and I would go to Cheryl's fantasy party, but I could tell the most important decision had been made.

So a few weeks later Dina and I walked up Cheryl and Ted's sidewalk. For the second time this year we approached their house feeling queasy at the prospect of shedding our clothes among a group of friends and acquaintances. This time the stakes felt higher as we contemplated sliding up against, or even into, those bare bodies.

Dina looked like a birthday present begging to be unwrapped and explored. She wore an orange and white flowered wraparound skirt that came to several inches above her knees, and an aqua spaghetti-strap t-shirt with just enough substance to mold to the curves of her substantial tits that rippled and swayed invitingly. Her dark brown hair swooped impeccably to her chin and her recent habit of regularly wearing those tiny black reading glasses conjured fantasies of violating a librarian or a teacher. I thought about taking her home to do just that, but sharing her with other sets of eyes, hands, and other body parts jerked that powerful lust to an even higher level.

"I'm so glad you came," Cheryl singsonged, snapping me back to Earth. The homeowners welcomed us in and shoved drinks in our hands. Cheryl wore tan Capri pants and a small white shirt knotted at the bottom, showing an inviting strip of belly. Ted dressed in a blue pullover shirt and jeans.

"You know Terrence and Pam from the last time you were here," said Cheryl. "This is Greg and Dina."

There was no trouble remembering this couple, and not just because they tended to be the only African-Americans at these suburban gatherings. Terrence was tall, sturdy, and very dark with a meticulously trimmed handlebar moustache. He wore black pants and a blue button down shirt that struggled to contain his chest and shoulders. Pam was a shade lighter and shorter, bright red lipstick on her small, cute lips, and plaited hair forming a wild ring around her head just below ear level. Her faintly patterned sleeveless shift that buttoned in front all the way down to her ankles, somewhat hid what looked like a lean and shapely figure. As we all shook hands I couldn't help but recall the last time Terrence and Dina faced each other, standing nude on a coffee table, electricity between them. I wondered how far that attraction might go this evening.

The doorbell rang with the last four guests. I hadn't known who they would be, but was struck a little dizzy when I saw.

Blonde, pony-tailed Nora with the sweet face and big round eyes, who I'd stripped at the last party, looked dressed for the office, with a starched white shirt, crisply pleated black pants, and the highest heels in the house. Husband Jason came more casual but still chic, all in denim: jeans and freshly laundered work shirt. His baby face was aged a bit by his goatee, but probably all this group would remember about him from our last meeting was the enormous prick he carried between his legs.

I was far more excited, however, to see boisterous Scott and, gulp, gorgeous Sally with the killer bod. They came arm-in-arm, Sally in a thin, sleeveless purple pullover sweater that advertised her enormous boobs, and a short jean skirt that made me think about the delights inside it. Scott wore khaki shorts and a Chicago Bears t-shirt, which seemed to fit his buzz-cut and strong features. He reached his free arm around Cheryl, hand sliding toward her right breast and said, "Hey good-lookin', want to see my fantasy?"

"Keep your pants on," said Cheryl, twirling free of his arm. "At least for now. Everyone get a drink except Scott, I don't think he needs one. Lets retire to the living room."

The group eventually made its way through a door to where the furniture had been rearranged. A couch sat at the center of attention at the head of the room, before two lines of different-sized pillows on the floor. Nora and Jason sat on the couch, the rest of us settled among the pillows. After a few minutes of small talk, Cheryl got things started.

"Thanks again for coming." Cheryl sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a glass of red wine. "I know this seems a little dicey, and I admit I'm kind of nervous myself. But I really like all you guys and I think we can have some good, clean, adult fun."

"So when do we start climbing all over each other," called Scott, followed by Sally playfully clamping a hand over his mouth.

Cheryl continued, "I think it will be even more exciting with a few ground rules to the game. I have these two baskets you might remember from last time. You'll choose a name of the opposite sex, and write down what you would most like to do with that person. When it's your turn, you stand in front of all of us and take off all your clothes. Then you'll call up your partner, and they'll strip. Then you'll read your sex fantasy to that person, and to us, and we'll watch."

Cheryl paused just enough to let small group applaud lightly and made a few catcalls.

"The idea is that person does whatever you ask them to do. But if it goes too far for them, 'no' means 'no,' with no bruised feelings." Cheryl grabbed the baskets and passed them. "So draw a name, and just to make things a little more interesting, we'll adjourn to another room for a few minutes in case anyone wants to trade the names they draw—guys in the kitchen, gals in the family room. Make your final choices, then write down how you want them to take you to paradise."

The group pulled names to reactions ranging from squeals to poker faces. My slip of paper read "Nora" and below that it read, "I would like" followed by several blank lines. I was hoping to read Sally's name at the top, but I quickly started to recall my many different daydreams involving Nora, groping, stripping, licking, and poking. Who to choose? Which fantasy to choose?

The five men circled the island in the kitchen and started negotiating when we heard the women's chatter turn to muffles as it headed down the hall and turned a corner.

Ted piped up first, "I'm very happy with the name I drew. I'll stay."

Having my way with Nora was feeling pretty good, but I decided to go for broke and see whether I could deal myself into a chance to climb Sally's impressive chest.

"No offense Jason, I've already been planning my assault on your wife, but I'm willing to trade the lovely Nora to avoid someone else being too disappointed."

I barely had time to finish when Terrence cut in, "I've been thinking about what I'd like to do with that little lady for quite some time. Would you take a Cheryl in exchange?"

Nora was a babe, but Cheryl was a fox. Cheryl's boobs were barely a ping-pong ball bigger than Nora's flat chest, but I finally decided that I knew Cheryl a lot better than Nora, which made a close encounter much more appealing. And I had a very specific desire in mind, one that I've lived through hundreds of times in my imagination.

"Sounds like a win-win," I said, and swapped slips with Terrence.

"I drew my girlfriend," said Scott. "Much as I know you'd all like be entranced by our sexual gymnastics, it seems the spirit of the evening calls for more variety."

"I'm willing to help you out," said Jason, before I could snap out of my plotting an encounter with Cheryl and realize Scott was dealing Sally. Damn. Still, my disappointment was mixed. Thoughts of advancing on a naked Cheryl were starting to jolt through my groin.

"I can hand Pam over to you," said Jason.

"Sweet," responded Scott, pumping his arm. "Exotic."

We fell silent and I thought I sensed some heavy breathing as we wrote out activities for our mates for the evening.

Cheryl greeted us as we moved back into the living room, where the rest of the women had settled among the floor pillows.

"Write your name on the outside of your note and drop it back in the basket," said Cheryl. "Get yourself a drink and lets get this party started."

I rescotched myself and leaned back into a pillow next to my wife, with Pam sitting just an inch to my right. Cheryl reached into one of the baskets, saying, "Ladies first, let's see who the first victim is. Nora, stand and strip for us."

Nora buried her bangs in her hands and moaned. Jason put an arm around her shoulders and chuckled as Scott clapped and chanted, "Nora, Nora, Nora."

"Of course I'd be first," she whined, rising and moving toward the couch, where she turned and faced nine pairs of eyes almost pulling her clothes off for her.

Nora straightened, then deftly removed her heels, showing incredible balance as she crooked each leg, deftly unbuckled her black shoes and tossed them over the heads and behind the line to her right.

With that Nora changed from corporate to cute. Without heels she was suddenly short, pant cuffs bunching around her bare feet, blue, searching eyes seeming to try to answer an unasked question. Her hands fluttered to her top shirt button, then instead moved to the clasp at the back of her waist, then finally dangled at her hips as she exhaled and wailed, "This is hard, you guys."

"I'll say," said Scott, as the audience broke up and even Nora had to smile. I know Scott's joke spoke the truth for me. Nora's shy hesitation couldn't have been more erotic.

"We've seen it all before," said Cheryl, coming off as weakly encouraging. "Have you already forgotten the last time you were here?"

"I think it was easier having someone else get my clothes off for me," said Nora. Finally, she unzipped and stepped quickly out of her pants.

After tossing those to the side she stood in what now looked like a very short shirtdress, which she slowly started to unbutton, sleeves first, then moving down the front, then sliding the garment off her shoulders. For a second she paused, facing us in a small white bra that seemed to have almost nothing underneath, and tiny white panties.

Nora reached both hands back, undoing the hooks, then hunched her shoulders forward, sliding the straps along her arms, uncovering the pair of insistent nipples poking from the small rises in on her chest. She quickly moved her hands downward toward her belly and stepped out of the last of her underwear.

Again she didn't seem sure what to do as her cheeks and upper chest turned crimson. I almost regretted trading the paper with her name on it as we stared up her legs to her little black bush as she timidly fidgeted, brushing invisible strands of hair behind her ears. Her nudity amid this small group of people seemed much more intimate than at the last, larger party here. Or maybe what made the air seem heavier was knowing that we were about to watch this pretty little body get molested by one of us guys, and at her request and direction.

Cheryl finally rescued Nora from her awkwardness, reaching up with Nora's note and telling her, "You need some company up there."

"Right," said Nora, almost as though she was waking up. "Get up here Scott. Take off your clothes and do my bidding."

Scott rose and took a spot next to Nora. He said, "Thank you for choosing me. I know you won't be disappointed," and slowly started raising his t-shirt. Nora rolled her eyes, but quickly returned them to Scott's torso, straight as a tree trunk and nearly as solid and round. He tossed the shirt aside and kicked off his sandals before slowly pulling on his zipper as he rotated his hips. He unhooked the clasp and wriggled out of his shorts, leaving only a pair of white boxers covered in red Valentines.

"In case you're wondering about the shorts," said Scott. "I've got a heart on."

Even Nora laughed at that, turning to Sally and asking, "Is he always like this?"

"Always," confirmed Sally.

"No really," said Scott. "Let me show you." And he slowly lowered the undies, uncovering his medium-sized, and growing, member. He let the firming thing pop weakly from under the waistband as it slid from his hips, then his legs, and he tossed the boxers to their corner.

Scott wasn't much taller than Nora but his dense physique made her look delicate and almost fragile. The smooth head of his cock seemed to be slowly rising, almost magnetically, toward Nora's labia just inches away.

Nora noticed, too. She couldn't seem to keep her eyes and attention off Scott's chest and hips. Maybe it was because her own husband tended toward the scrawny, except for his monster member, or maybe it was just the notion of her, a married woman, standing next to a naked man in the middle of a group of friends.

Cheryl finally spoke up. "Uh, Nora, are you going to read your fantasy."

"Oh, right," she said, raising the paper. "Scott, I would like you to give me oral sex until I climax."

Nora started turning red again, probably from the incredible stillness that suddenly filled the room. Cheryl showed again how smart she was by having us write these down. I doubt Nora ever could have said anything so direct and sexual.

"I was getting hungry," said Scott. "And you do look good enough to eat. Would you like to sit on the couch?"

Nora put her bare butt on the cushion and looked up at Scott, legs together, hands on her knees, back straight, nipples reaching out like they were trying to make up for their lack of high ground,

Scott kneeled, replaced the hands on her knees with his, and began sliding his palms up and inside her legs, which stayed mostly closed.

"Oh, now this won't do," Scott said. "What, the restaurant is closed?"

Nora smiled weakly, relaxed her legs, and Scott moved between them. He gently pushed her knees further apart, allowing those of us on the stage left side of the pillow line to glimpse her pink inner folds that would soon be getting teased by Scott's tongue. Envy buzzed between my brain and groin, imagining that in a few seconds Scott would be tasting that territory between Nora's legs.

He moved his left hand up to Nora's chest and eased her against the back of the couch. Her body now aimed her vagina straight at an admiring audience, but her head stayed upright against the back cushion, eyes following Scott as he moved in front of her, replacing the view of Nora's now not-so-privates with Scott's butt, which seemed carved from the same square stones that made up the rest of his body.