party favours #2: kiss and tell

(continued from “party favours #1: trance dance”…..
“… slumped in the chair watching others keenly aware of the heat still evident between my thighs and still enjoying the rhythm enchanting embrace and watching to see if anyone else was enjoying what I’d just enjoyed.”)

            I skulked to the bathroom  and once there slipped off the now wet pair and changed into pink cotton boyshorts,  still elated after that dizzying moment, unexpected orgasm, while dancing. I was very pleased I remembered to pack a spare pair as I usually do and this night found I needed. I then re-joined some friends in the kitchen as innocent as anything as no one would have noticed my inward exhibitionism earlier nor been aware of how deeply it went inside me and got myself a J2O to steady my still quivering legs.

            The party and all who sailed in her moved through the nightly hours and I avoided dancing for a while not fully trusting myself after what happened and I didn’t have another clean pair of emergency knickers.   I found myself with some friends around a table, Alex, a close and personal friend, Jane who is funny for saying basically whatever is on her mind at the time like she has no edit function, and Janine who is the most easy-going person to be around and we share a sense of humour and taste in music.

            There was also Ben and Dom, brothers, Ben being probably the more extrovert and I think slightly older and Dom quieter and more reflective but a wicked, dry attitude.  Janine was on one side of me and Dom on the other while around us the party rocked on and at some point we got into a “kiss and tell” game…

            The rules are, or were in this one anyway as it’s probably different every time it’s played by whoever, using a pack of cards everyone takes one and the lowest numbered card has to kiss the person with the highest and then answer a question they ask you with both the kissing and the question and most definitely the answering all obligatory, no excuses.  Sounds all very juvenile I know but it was a party and stuff happens at parties.  You also have to answer truthfully, which of course is up to you how truthful you are as it’s likely they wouldn’t know one way or the other but these are the rules anyway.

            Predictably for my weird luck that on only the second turn of the cards I got the lowest while Ben got the highest. So a kiss was expected which I can’t say I was overly into doing but I agreed so ventured a lip to lip moment as brief as I could get away with.  An aroma of some kind of beer and some aftershave hit me which wasn’t unpleasant as such but not welcome either. I braced myself and we did the deed, or he kissed me and my lips just happen to be there in the way. Cheekily and to my surprise his tongue shot into my mouth too, a full on French kiss with a kind of sucking motion.  It felt like I might lose my tonsils.

            Now came the question to which I inwardly braced myself not knowing what on earth his salacious mind might conjure. He swigged his beer and said, “would you ever let a guy do you anal?”

            I had a feeling it was going to be embarrassing but even this took me aback and I almost choked on my drink. He couldn’t have started with something tame and inconsequential, no; he went right in for the kill.  Needless to say I felt myself flush a burning beetroot.

            There was a moment of shock in everyone and then giggles, including me, a misture of the two at the same time for which I don’t think there’s a word for. Despite the initial shock everyone must have felt, not least me, expectant stares loomed down on me saying “well, you agreed to the rules”.

            I baulked, “you want me to actually answer that?”

            Every single one of them nodded with mischievous grins which spread around the table like a tsunami about to hit me square in the face.

            If I hadn’t just had a few drinks I might have been able to think my way out of this but as it was all I could do was dread each passing millisecond wondering how I could get out of it but failing to negotiate anything remotely resembling an escape.

            I hadn’t ever done it, anal, at all ever although it had crossed my mind sometimes. So was thinking about it the same as actually wanting it and letting anyone do it to me?  Despite the noise of the party in the background it felt like a mighty silence had descended and was crushing me with every breath I took to delay the inevitable answering. It didn’t help that the memory of having just had an orgasm earlier was still very vivid. Stares got harder, the silence heavier and more expectant, and someone said “well? we’re waiting”

            I panicked and blurted, “no chance!” while laughing it off and then babbling something about it probably being painful and weird and not sure I’d even like it, and how embarrassing it might be and what kind of woman did he take me for, blah blah blah. All the while even I wasn’t convinced by my protestations and maybe I was that kind, whatever that kind is, and I had the distinct feeling I may sometime at least try it. Clearly, no one else around the table was convinced either but they collectively let my questionable response slide with knowing stares, either that or I was just being paranoid.

            My blushing had reached epic proportions hoping the focus would soon move on to the next shuffle.

            Throughout the rest of the game, for which many more rude and lewd and downright outrageous questions were asked I could feel Dom’s eyes frequently looking my way. It made me curious; he wasn’t anything like his brother, much more polite for starters.  I pretended not to notice but took a vain pleasure at his possible interest.

            Without warning I felt a hand on my knee.  I took a sideways glance at Janine as she is definitely frisky enough to do such a thing so boldly but she appeared oblivious. Everyone else was too far away to grab my leg under the table.  It then dawned on me and I surreptitiously skewed a glance at Dom who also strangely showed no signs of petting me.  Then this same hand squeezed my leg and I saw his eyes dart briefly towards me. Aha! I thought, a tell-tale sign, it was him after all.

            It continued for a few minutes while I wondered what to do, not wanting to be rude or pushy  I had mixed thoughts as I was about to slip my hand under the table and quietly remove the offending touch.  Although it wasn’t actually offensive, it felt just the opposite. He squeezed again and this time stroked my bare leg just above my knee below the hem of my skirt.   I didn’t react nor move my leg.  I left it there, with his hand caressing and kneading my leg in any way he wanted.

            My mind raced.  Why was I letting him? It seemed harmless enough and it wasn’t horrible, in fact really gentle and pleasant, if not a little arousing though I didn’t admit this at the time.

            I didn’t dare look at him while the game continued becoming more anarchic the more we drank, with plenty of kissing, by me also, lots of embarrassment and increasingly more fondling of sometimes less than innocent sort, I even got to kiss Alex, which I’d done before but not in this context and was intensely sensual.   Like me she is bisexual so I think we both enjoyed it more than a bit.  Yet here I still was enjoying also Dom’s attentions which were getting more attentive by the deal of every card.

            His hand continued stroking and squeezing my bare leg sometimes shifting ever-so slightly my skirt an inch or so up my thigh, then he’d slip over my knee before moving upwards again each time ruffling my skirt a little more and each time I thought possibly higher by tiny degrees. All my nerve-endings were now standing on end with shocking anticipation.  I had to admit I was somewhat enjoying this secret under-table tryst hidden in plain sight as neither me nor Dom said a word the entire time his hand freely explored my naked skin and vulnerable thighs.

            There were moments he’d stop and cheekily grip harder making me jump a little and shift my position. I did so, nonchalantly as possible for the benefit of the others not noticing anything untoward. It was increasingly like a silent, wordless conversation just between us. My mind raced, my pulse paced as his touches grew bolder and moved higher along my leg. I felt and knew my skirt was edging upwards with his fingers ever-closer to my knickers. At this I coughed and he halted, but only for a moment then continued his trajectory until he touched the lace making me almost give the game away by a surprised gasp which brought a few curious stares but not for more than fleeting.

            I inhaled sharply and took a sip of my drink as composed as possible while his hand was still getting more adventurous.

            At this I crossed my legs, as a reflex really, smoothing down my skirt a touch.  This didn’t stop him either and his hand was there again fingers urging themselves between my crossed thighs continuing to tease my skirt higher for better access.

            I felt powerless, willingly or otherwise I wasn’t sure, partly because I was admittedly turned on, and also I was flattered, though I wasn’t going to admit that.  I could tell by his ministrations pushing even more insistently his fingers between my thighs telling me he was obviously horny too, urging me, encouraging me, to uncross my legs……

(continued in “party favours #3: that prickling feeling” …)

© Emmaleela