Lisa and I were invited to a party, an Oscar party to be exact. Her friend Amy throws this party every year and goes all out with the decorations and the preparation. I knew that everyone was going to be drinking, wound up, and cheering for their favorite movie stars to win a gold statue, and even though I couldn't give a crap about such things, I knew my darling girlfriend did. I agreed to go since A) it was something that she liked and B) everyone had to dress up as if they actually were going to the Oscars—meaning that all the women were going to be dressed to the nines. And my beautiful Lisa has lots of pretty friends.
As we arrived, we saw lots of couples dressed up and movie themed decorations were everywhere. Giant "Oscar" statues framed the door, improvised sidewalk stars with each of the guests' names lined the driveway, and laughing neighbors playing paparazzi took pictures as everyone walked the red carpet up to the house. My beautiful girlfriend had dressed to impress. Her nails and hair were done up, she was sporting a fabulous red-trimmed gold evening gown, and she was wearing my favorite pair of stiletto heels. I'd nearly begged her to stay home and allow me to ravish her. But I knew how important her friends' parties were—especially this one—so I simply sneaked up behind her while she was dressing and played with her nipples and kissed her lovely neck. A laugh, a slap, and a "wait" were what I got for my trouble. But that implied promise was enough. I knew that when we returned home, she would be mine for as long as I wanted her. And I so dearly wanted her.
Inside the house, folks were already doing some drinking. Most of the guys were having beer and some were imbibing the more "manly" cocktails that combined Jim Beam, Jack Daniel's, or Bacardi with Coke and the ladies were making short work of the champagne in the spirit of the awards show that would be starting soon. Just inside the door, our hostess was standing and passing out shots of cinnamon schnapps and making toasts with "her girls" as she called them as they arrived. Amy was statuesque in her long white gown and white high heeled sandals. The girl is already a whole head taller than my blond girlfriend, but with heels on, Amy added another four inches.
In a mock Hollywood tone, Lisa hugged Amy and kissed her on both cheeks. "Dahhhhhling, you look mahhhhvelous!"
Amy laughed and passed us both a shot of her liqueur. Rather than argue, I tossed mine back, figuring it was at least a breath freshener. Lisa and Amy sipped theirs while chatting about the party. For my part, I hung back and eyed Amy up and down. Like I said, Lisa's friends are hot and I really enjoy looking at Amy's tall and slim figure. Lisa is everything I've ever wanted in a woman, but she knows I like to look at her friends. Amy just has something about her that I can't place. It's intriguing enough to make me want to know more, but not worth risking what Lisa and I have.
Everyone mingled, drinking and happily talking about the upcoming awards show. The women were really dressed up so I didn't mind making small talk with other guys and couples while eyeing up the beautiful ladies walking around the party. And then someone shushed the attendees and turned up the surround sound system. The ladies settled right down in front of the big screen tv when the starlets started to arrive on the red carpet, oohing and ahhing over each new example of what passed for fashion in Hollywood. The guys pretended not to be interested but it was clear that they were watching for each new arrival as the fashions became more revealing and daring. I held back from drinking too much and watched the crowd. Besides Amy's stunning outfit which showed off her body, Lisa's other good friend, Karyl, was looking amazing as well. Both women are not only tall, but beautiful. Amy has light brown hair and Karyl has reddish brown hair. Both women have awesome smiles and wonderful personalities and it's no wonder that my lovely girlfriend likes them so much.
The awards show dragged on and on while the girls paid rapt attention to each new announcement of a winner. Boos and cheers accompanied each award. During the commercials, people laughed and passed bottles back and forth. It became apparent that if your favorite actor or actress didn't win, someone would "call you" on it and "force" you to drink a shot for your "loss". Amy seemed to have instigated this and often would move towards someone who was slow to imbibe as if to enforce the rule. It was a long running joke that if Amy made her stern face and headed your way, you'd better get to drinking.
When I wasn't watching Lisa—her animated face and laughing eyes always capture my attention—I was sneaking glances at her two tall friends. At one point, I thought I saw a "look" pass between them, but put it down to the fun everyone was having at the party and the liquor that was flowing so freely.
There was a bottle of Lisa's favorite tequila on the counter top and I poured a generous shot into a small plastic cup. I walked up behind where Lisa sat on the couch between friends and bent down to kiss her gently on the neck. "Having a good time, Baby?"
"Yes!" she enthused, pointing out that yet another one of her favorites had won an award. She turned to her friend Teri and said, "Ha! Your girl lost! Drink up, Loser!" Teri laughed and made a big show of her punishment, swallowing her vodka shot in one not very ladylike gulp.
When I handed Lisa her own shot, I simply said, "Patron," and watched her eyes light up. She looked at her girlfriends sitting on the couch on either side of her and gave them a look that said, "Why doesn't your boyfriend bring you good stuff to drink? Jealous?" and then tossed back her liquor. She wasn't drunk yet, but she was definitely feeling pretty good from several of the cocktails and shots that she'd had so far.
Much later in the evening, a few of the couples had already left and the party was starting to thin out a little. Folks who had become bored with the proceedings on the TV had gotten up from their chairs and begun to mingle again. Lisa stood behind the couch and chatted with a few people. Her vivacious personality endeared her to everyone. I was enjoying the position I had near the kitchen where I could watch her and observe the reactions of the people she was speaking with. I found myself daydreaming about when we would finally arrive home and I could get her out of those classy clothes and down to just her sexy high heels. Oh, the things I had planned...
At one point, she glanced my way and I made my "sexy time" eyes at her, although my look was probably more comical than suggestive. She smiled and sipped her drink to keep from laughing as another lady was trying to tell her a story. When she was able, she broke away from the group and said to me, "I know you're ready to go, but can we stay a little longer?"
"We can stay as long as you want, Beautiful. You know I like watching you with your friends. I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I've been thinking of scouting out the house to find a place where I can make out with you."
"Well, I can help with that..." Her mischievous eyes gave me her own version of the look that meant it was time to do something naughty and she took my hand to lead me away. The couple that she'd been talking to was leaving anyway and said their goodbyes on the way past us. Down a long hallway, there was a spacious master bedroom. Looking around at the decorations, I knew that this was where Amy slept. Lisa closed the door behind us and fell into my arms.
After a few minutes of gentle but passionate kissing, I was getting heated up and I could tell that Lisa was going to want to head for home too. As we broke from our embrace, she looked around the big room and marveled at some of the decorations. Amy had a very large flat screen tv in the bedroom, a partially hidden sound system, and a bureau with an extensive jewelry collection on top of it.
I'll admit it; we were snooping. The "danger" of getting caught in her friend's bedroom was adding to the excitement and I was mentally calculating whether or not Lisa and I could pull off a quickie on Amy's bed. My beautiful girlfriend—ever the fashion hound—was momentarily distracted by her newest discovery. She'd opened a door and found a walk in closet with clothes hanging on racks on either side, hat boxes on shelves above, and the piece de resistance; an entire back wall covered in shoes.
To say that Lisa loves nice shoes would be an understatement. And if—if—I have a fetish, it's a pair of sexy feet wearing a boner-inducing pair of high heels. There must have been two hundred pairs of shoes there! And the vast majority of them were high heels. There were strapless sandals, wedges, stilettos, spike heels, pumps, and as I was mentally imagining what Amy must look like in all these sexy shoes, Lisa suddenly blurted in an excited whisper, "Jimmy Choo! Oh my God, these are the shoes I was telling you about! These are called 'Blade;' aren't they hot?!?"
"Hell, yeah! Now you're talking. Try them on!" I enthused. I couldn't wait to see Lisa's shapely legs in heels like those.
"You must be crazy. Do you know what these cost?"