Wrong Number

"Do we really have to go to this thing this evening?" I asked Nancy as she emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam.

Nancy gave me an irritated look. "We accepted the invitation, Pete."

"Yeah, I know, but—" I gazed at my little Asian girlfriend, nude except for a pair of skimpy bikini panties and a tiny bra and looking very delectable indeed.

"Come on, Pete, we need to get dressed or we'll be late. And I'm not sure exactly where this place is."

I gave a long hungry look at her small slim body, her gleaming olive skin emphasized by the lemon yellow bra and panties that barely managed to cover some very attractive parts. Well, mostly cover. I could make out her thick nipples and areolas through the lacy cups of the minimal bra, and an inch or two of dark landing strip through the tiny panties. I was only in boxers myself and they were already starting to tent with an erection. "You know," I started, "we could find some fun things to do here, instead of this boring party."

Nancy made a face at me. "Yeah, yeah, Pete. I know how you are. Mister Horny. But like I said, we accepted the invitation. And these are okay people. So just control yourself until we get back."

"Is there a promise there?"

A small grin. "Maybe. Now get some clothes on. We're supposed to be there by seven."

"Okay. All that pretty underwear is going to be wasted on these folk, though."

"Yeah, yeah, but I only just bought it and I wanted to see how it would look now I have it home."

I gave an exaggerated Gallic shrug. Appropriate for this evening, I thought. Our invitation was from a couple we'd met on a bike tour along the Loire Valley in central France. We'd started our vacation with a busy week in Paris, then decided to see something of the French countryside at a more leisurely pace. Of the dozen or so of us on the bike tour, Nancy and I had been the youngest by close to twenty years and had felt a little out of place among our forty- and fifty- and sixty-year-old companions. They were pleasant people, though, even if we shared few interests, and—embarrassingly—were all stronger cyclists than either of us. This evening, our hosts had invited those of us who lived in the Portland area for drinks and snacks and to watch some videos of the trip. I gathered there would be four or five couples at the party, including two couples of whom only the husband had been on the tour.

I pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a new dress shirt, while Nancy—to my disappointment—slipped into a blue silk dress with big white buttons down the front. It looked great but nowhere as good as the yellow bikini underwear it was hiding. My cock had deflated but I hoped Nancy wouldn't renege on the promise of fun when we got back to our apartment.

A quick dab of lipstick and Nancy was hustling me outside into her little Mazda. "I'll drive and you can navigate," she told me.

"What's the address?"

"Hang on." Nancy pulled out her phone. "It's out towards Hillsboro, on Dover Road. Number 17611," she told me as she started the car. "I can get to Hillsboro, but maybe you can look out for the number when we get close."

"Sure," I said. It didn't sound too demanding, and I'd learned it was usually better to follow Nancy's orders.

We headed west out of the city, stopped briefly for gas, and got to Hillsboro twenty or so minutes later. Dover Road was easy enough to find, a long winding route running roughly south.

We passed a couple of fancy-looking golf courses and were passing through an area that was mostly agricultural, with small farms and orchards interspersed with the occasional house or country store, when I spotted it.

"There! 17611! On the broken railing."

Nancy braked hard, then pulled into the mouth of a narrow fenced driveway. It looked like a tree limb had fallen on the fence in some recent windstorm, but the big white numbers on the dark rail were clear enough.

"Not as far down the road as I was guessing," I commented. "I was expecting something less rural, too, a bit more upper middle-class."

"Sure, Pete," Nancy told me. "The expert on folks' housing choices, now?"

"Okay, okay. Let's see what kind of a place these guys have at the end of this drive."

Nancy restarted the Mazda and a couple of bends in the gravel driveway got us to what might have been a farmhouse fifty years earlier, two stories tall with yellow-painted clapboard siding and a bright blue front door. A couple of cars were parked at one side of a gravel turnaround.

"Guess we aren't so late, after all," I told Nancy. "Unless people bailed. Maybe decided to stay home and fuck."

Nancy stuck her tongue out at me. "You have a one-track mind, Pete."

"You've been on the same track plenty of times. Like at the sex club in Paris." I grinned at my little girlfriend. We'd been invited by some French friends to go to the club a few days before our Loire bike tour started. It had been a memorable evening. "And the foursomes with Karen and Alan. And the great birthday party with—"

Nancy stuck her tongue out again. "W-e-l-l, yeah, I do like those little friendly groups. I might be up for another session like those if we knew the right people. But we don't right now. And we're going to be totally respectable this evening, remember?"

"Uh, huh." No chance of anything else, I thought.

We reached the blue front door and I hit the bell push. A chime sounded somewhere in the house.

A few moments later, the door cracked open and I caught the sound of laughter in the distance. Then the door opened wide and I was looking at a very attractive thirtyish redhead I'd never seen before, presumably the wife or partner of one of the unaccompanied men from the tour. She was wearing a low-cut bright green sundress that was giving me a great view of a pair of beautifully shaped and sized boobs, seemingly unprotected by a bra.

I felt a sharp nudge from Nancy's elbow and moved my gaze upwards a little.

The woman gave me a big smile. "Hi, I'm Angie." She hesitated. "And you're...?"

"Nancy and Pete," Nancy answered.

Another big smile. "Hey, I'm so glad you could make it after all. We thought you'd gotten cold feet. But here you are." She raised herself on tiptoe and gave me a long kiss on the mouth, then turned to Nancy and gave her an equally enthusiastic kiss.

I stared at the woman. This was a lot more of a friendly welcome than I'd expected. Maybe there had been some serious drinking before our arrival, but Angie hadn't tasted of alcohol. Or even weed. It was a little weird. And the "cold feet" comment was weird, too, after Nancy had emailed our hosts that we'd be at the party.

Angie gave me a long sort of appraising look, then grinned at me. "Mm-hmm," I thought I heard her mutter as she turned to lead Nancy and me into the house.

"Come and meet the others," Angie told us. "We were just pouring some drinks."

Nancy and I followed her down a short hallway, past a bedroom with a king-sized bed visible through the open door, and into a living room with a couple of brightly upholstered couches.

"The others are out on the deck." Angie pointed across the room to a pair of glass doors, through which I could see the shapes of three figures.

I gave a quick puzzled look to Nancy. If this was everyone, it seemed a very small group out of the dozen—plus two additional wives—who'd ridden the bike tour together.

Then Angie opened the deck doors wide.

"Oh!" I heard Nancy's surprise.

The three people on the deck were a black couple and a bearded blond man, none of whom had been on the bike tour.

Angie apparently hadn't heard Nancy's exclamation and started introductions: "Hey guys, this is Pete and Nancy. They made it after all." She pointed to the other three. "The tall shaven-headed black dude is Byron, and the cute skinny chick with the frizzy hair is Melanie, and the other dude—" She pointed to the bearded blond. "—is Arch, my guy. Most days, anyway."

I sensed Nancy about to ask a question as I gazed at the three on the deck, all around thirty, I guessed. Byron, in a light blue tee-shirt and jeans that emphasized his obviously fit body, was good-looking with an attractive grin. Melanie was, as Angie noted, on the skinny side, but her very short tight pale green tee-shirt (with "Requires Constant Supervision" printed across the front) combined with low-cut shorts managed to show both a silver navel ring and, clearly visible through the thin fabric, a pair of neat small boobs with dark nipples. Arch the bearded guy was average in height, with a deep tan and an impressive barrel chest in his own bulging gray shirt, and a somewhat bemused look as he gazed at us.

Nancy finally got out her question: "What's the address here?"

Angie answered, sounding puzzled: "11611 Dover Road. Didn't you know?"

"But on your fence it says 17611," Nancy told her.

Angie laughed. "Oh! Oh! When the tree limb fell on the fence it knocked one of the ones sideways, so it looks a bit like a seven. I've been meaning to fix it." She giggled. "Oh, shit. I hope you guys weren't looking for a different party?"

"Yeah," I said. "With some people we were cycling in France with. At number 17611."

Angie giggled again, gazed at Nancy and me for a moment, and repeated "Oh shit."

"I'm really sorry," I told her. "I should have realized we couldn't be in the seventeen thousand block yet. We'd better get out of your hair and head down the road."

I was sorry. An evening with Angie and the three others looked like it could have been a lot more fun than with the older crowd from the bike tour.

Angie cocked her head to one side and said, "You could change your mind and stay."

"No, no." Nancy answered for me. "We can't break into your party." She turned towards the door, then gave Angie an embarrassed look and said, "Could I use your bathroom before we leave? We kinda rushed out of our apartment and apparently it's still a ways to the party where we're supposed to be."

"Oh, sure." Angie answered. "Just go through the bedroom off the front hall. You'll see it."

Nancy smiled her thanks and headed past me into the bedroom. Watching her, I saw there was a big tv, the screen blank, on the wall at the foot of the king bed. The rest of the room was dim, with the drapes closed.

I heard a toilet flush somewhere on the far side of the bedroom and waited for Nancy to reappear. Instead, I heard a cry and a loud thump. I hurried into the bedroom to find my girlfriend sitting on the carpet, holding a tv remote. "It was on the floor and I tripped over it," she explained. "I'm okay, just a bit startled."

"You're sure—" I started, then realized the tv was now on. And showing a porn video.

"I guess I accidentally turned it on," Nancy explained.

"Oh God, that's embarrassing," I heard Angie say behind me.

I was amused, not embarrassed, and it looked to be a pretty entertaining video. It was a threesome, with a woman obviously thoroughly enjoying—judging by her moans—being spit-roasted. She was enthusiastically sucking on a thick pink cock as a second darker cock pounded into her from behind. Every time the cock she was sucking moved out from her lips a little, her moans increased in volume before there was another thrust into her from behind. It wasn't absolutely the most erotic scene I-and Nancy-had ever watched, but it was definitely up there.

"No problem, lots of people watch this kind of thing in bed," I told Angie. I hoped she wouldn't guess that was exactly how Nancy and I sometimes spent a half-hour before we slept.

I looked back at the tv for a moment. The camera had moved back a little to show more clearly the faces of the participants.

"Oh!" I said.

The woman was Angie and her male partners were Byron and Arch.

"Goddamn! Now you've found us out." Angie's face was bright red.

I tried to make her feel less uncomfortable: "Hey, it's okay," I told her. "Other people enjoy group fun, too." Whoops, I thought, maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"Oh?" The question came from Arch, a glass of red wine in one hand and the other stroking Angie's back. Nancy was still sitting on the floor, apparently transfixed by the video. She'd always loved watching porn and I could imagine how she was enjoying having two of the actors standing next to her.

I mumbled something, but Arch moved closer to me. "So have you guys...?"

I looked at Nancy. She'd obviously heard Arch's question. She glanced back at the video and then in the direction of Byron and Melanie as they joined Angie and me in the bedroom doorway, each holding a glass of white wine. I saw her tongue run across her lips. She nodded to me.

"Well," I answered. "Just a few times."

"And did you both enjoy it?" Arch interrogated.

"Well, yes," I said. I looked at Nancy. This conversation was going in a very interesting direction.

"Yeah," Nancy said slowly. "Yeah, we both did. Lots."

"Good," Arch responded. He raised his eyebrows at Angie.

Angie seemed to be recovering from her embarrassment. She smiled at us. "How about a glass of wine? We could chat a bit if you don't have to rush off absolutely right away."

I glanced back at the tv. The camera had moved and was focused on a couple on the far side of the bed: Melanie and a very fit looking Asian man with a dragon tattoo running from his neck down his back to his left hip.

"Abe," Angie explained. "He and Trish were our third couple. Trish is behind the camera."

Abe was eating Melanie out as she squirmed and made gasping noises. Gazing at her little brown breasts with sharp, almost pointed nipples, I thought how much I would enjoy sucking on them.

"A glass of wine for you guys?" Angie repeated.

I looked at Nancy. She nodded. "Sure," I said.

"Let's go sit down," Angie suggested. "I'll get the wine. Red or white?"

I chose red and Nancy chose white. Angie directed us to the pair of couches in the living room and returned with bottles of wine. Everyone sat down, somehow with Byron and Arch on either side of Nancy, and with me between Melanie and Angie.

We all sipped our wine for a moment, then Angie said, "I guess it's real clear, the four of us like to have sex together."

I glanced in the direction of the bedroom. Someone had muted the tv, but it seemed as if Angie's moans still hung in the air. I grinned at her. "Uh huh. Real clear."

Angie grinned back. Her embarrassment had obviously gone. "Arch and I have been doing this for four or five years. The other couples come and go a bit, maybe they start a family or they move away, like Abe and Trish just did to the East Coast. We've found a group of a half-dozen is about right, enough variety, so to speak, without it's becoming an orgy."

"An occasional orgy is fun, though," Melanie commented.

"You are insatiable, girl," Byron told her. I gave her a quick sideways glance. Her nipples were very visible though the green tee-shirt. Yum-m, I thought.

"Anyway," Angie went on, "we've been looking for another couple since Abe and Trish left. Arch thought he'd found a couple, real attractive and outgoing, but it sounded like they weren't too sure they wanted to be involved. So when you guys arrived, I thought they'd decided it was okay, after all."

I took a sip of wine. "Must have been quite a disappointment when you realized we were at the wrong party."

"Looked like the gods were teasing us," Byron smiled. "First, delivering a good-looking couple, then jerking them away again," Byron turned to gaze at Nancy. "A good-looking couple, with a specially good-looking woman."

As Nancy smiled back at Byron, Angie said, "You are absolutely welcome to stay, if you feel comfortable. And play. We'd love it."

I looked at Nancy, pretty much able to see her thinking, but was she going to say yes? She was now resting one hand lightly on Byron's left arm. As I watched, Arch moved a hand to turn her head a little, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. Nancy turned some more to kiss him on the lips, then turned back to Byron and kissed him as well. "I think I'd like to stay," she said slowly, "but I don't know about Pete. He's pretty conservative sexually. And he was really looking forward to watching the videos of the Loire."

"Bitch," I muttered.

"Is she joking?" Melanie asked me.

"We'll have to find out," I answered as I slipped a hand into her wiry black hair and pulled her gently towards me. A long kiss, then I turned to Angie and gave her a lengthy kiss too.

Suddenly, the tension of uncertainty was gone and everyone was laughing.

"Great! We've got our numbers back up." Angie waved her empty wine glass. "I'll pour another round and we can have some snacks and we can chat a bit more about ourselves. Maybe share some weed. Then, things usually kinda start in here, then we wander into the bedroom. Okay?"

***

A half-hour later, the atmosphere in the living room was very relaxed. We all knew a little more about each other and some of our sexual adventures. The house was Angie's, an unexpected bequest—along with a tidy amount of money—from a grandfather. Arch was the owner of a small landscaping business, which explained his deep tan and barrel chest. Byron and Melanie were both financial analysts with a brokerage firm in Portland. All four had had rather more sexual experience than Nancy or me, but without seeming like perverts, and Angie and Melanie had made it clear that they were both bi.

"Any more wine, anyone?" Angie asked.

We all shook our heads and Angie moved the glasses and bottles onto a cabinet behind our couch, then turned to me.

"Now," Angie said as she unbuttoned my shirt and ran a bright pink fingernail slowly down my chest. Next to me, Melanie tapped a hand on my shoulder and said, "I'm going to be with Arch for a while, but I'll join you later, Pete." I watched her neat little ass as she walked across to the other couch, hoping she'd keep the promise she'd just made, then stretched an arm across Angie's shoulders to pull her into an embrace.

"Um, I love DFK," she told me a couple of minutes later as our tongues finally separated. "What else can you do?"

I took a quick look at the other couch before I answered. Melanie was seated on the arm at one end, with Arch on his knees in front of her. I could see she'd sloughed off her shorts and Arch had pulled her thong to one side to get access for his tongue. And Nancy? She was now bent over Byron's lap while he played with her little boobs through her partially unbuttoned silk dress. "Well," I said to Angie, "I could move my mouth down a few inches if you would unzip a bit."

"I think I could do that," she told me. "Let's see."

As the pair of beautiful boobs—nicely tanned, and bra-less as I'd thought—tumbled out of the green sundress I leaned forward to kiss first one, then the other, then ran my tongue around the nubbly areolas, and back and forth across each nipple.

"Mm-mm," Angie responded. She put a hand out and ran her fingernails lightly over the crotch of my jeans, now showing a distinct bulge.

I gave each of her boobs a lengthy suck, then reached down to unzip the jeans.

"Oh, very interesting," Angie opened the front of the jeans wide and pulled out my stiff cock. "Good and really thick."

I made a pleased sound as she lowered her head to swirl her tongue around my cock.

"M-m-m-m-mmm." Angie had opened her mouth wide and was sucking gently on my cockhead. The sensation was exquisite.

A loud gasp made me look up. On the other couch, Nancy, now in just her pale yellow bikini bra, was lowering herself onto what looked to be about eight inches of Byron's brown dick. She glanced across at me and grinned and waved. "God, Pete, it's going really deep, and I think there's a bit more to come," she choked out.

I'd have loved to watch more closely, but Angie's lips reminded me of nearer pleasure. She was able to take me deep into her mouth, then apply tongue pressure along the entire length of my prick.