The three of us had gone out to dinner: Iota, myself, and Angela, another friend of ours. We had had a lovely evening; the three of us had not met together for about four months. The two girls had discussed their respective love lives in minute detail: numbers, size, girth, enthusiasm, skill - as the lone representative of male-kind, I found it both fascinating and intimidating. There was nothing going on between us, although I was certainly attracted to both of them, but hearing how much they appreciated, say, men who were good kissers, and the heartfelt disappointment they expressed about guys who were too small, or who couldn't last, left me wondering whether it was even remotely possible for a married guy like myself, without a great deal of sexual experience, could possibly provide either of them with a memorable experience.
We had met at seven thirty, and it was now eleven. The dirty looks from the waiters suggested it was time to be on our way - the conversation which I found so engaging had been occasionally loud, raucous, and at times quite x-rated. We ought, perhaps, to have taken it to from a small, family run restaurant to a more anonymous bar, but we were too comfortable to move.
Angela had driven; as a consequence, she had stayed sober while Iota and I had, perhaps, over-indulged. As she opened her car, I got into the back - I thought to stay in the background and let the girls sit up front together and keep chatting. Iota had a different idea. "Do you mind if we drunkards slouch together in the back?" "Just make sure that no funny business goes on in my car," Angela joked.
Iota slid into the rear seat beside me. It felt nice to set so close beside her. My hand naturally found hers, and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back, and was leaning lazily against me by the time Angela got behind the wheel. She fixed her eyes on us through the rear view mirror - she was, after all, the responsible one tonight. "Don't get too comfortable, you two!"
She pulled out of the parking space and headed east. Damn, towards my place, which was nearby. Not much time to act. I turned my head towards Iota; we were still holding hands, and she was smiling at me. I leaned over and kissed her. On the cheek, but very close to the lips. She turned her head, almost imperceptibly, and our lips met. We shared a surprisingly long kiss; Angela caught sight of us in her mirror, and she sighed.
"You guys!" she exclaimed. Her tone was more exasperated than annoyed. Being seen seemed to stoke Iota's fires. The kiss became more passionate; she pushed her tongue between my lips and into my mouth. I sucked gently on her tongue, caressing it with mine, and moving my lips slowly, sensuously back and forth along its length. My hand let go of hers, and reached up to her chest. I gently rubbed her nipple through her clothing. My actions were shielded from Angela's view by my body, which was turned slightly towards I's. I felt her hands on my fly; I was wearing tight jeans, without a belt. I hadn't planned this, but it turned out to have been very convenient. Silently, one by one, the buttons were undone. I felt her hand caress my manhood as we kissed. I don't think I had ever been harder in my life.
"Angela, can you give us a few more minutes before dropping him off? We're right in the middle of something."
