The night stated with the two of us, Sally and I, in the car on our way to her youngest sister's, Sophie's, 30th birthday party, on a cold, damp and snowy February night.
Sally had made a real effort and looked good; she'd been on a diet and had managed to squeeze herself into her skinny white jeans.
About a half an hour into the journey she got a call from Sophie. Sally explained proudly that she was wearing her white jeans, going on to describe the rest of her outfit in enough detail to make me switch off. I concentrated on the road as the conversation drew on, with lots of yes', no's and well, maybe type answers.
There were plenty glances over at me, raising of eyebrows and looking me up and down -- I knew a plot was being hatched. The conversation finished around some kind of surprise present if Sophie behaved and wore the right thing -- what present I thought? We hadn't brought one and her official birthday wasn't until Sunday.
When we arrived I parked the car in a nearby street. We wrapped up for the short walk, donning winter coats as walked across the neatly laid out square. The snow crunched under our feet and the vapour of our hot breath hung in the cold and still February air. Sally walked carefully, teetering a little in her higher than usual, high heeled shoes.
Sophie greeted us at the door of the small terraced town house. She generously endowed us with hugs and kisses. She was dressed in an almost exactly matching ensemble; Sally twirled excitedly around her, showing her the fit of her jeans.
They could have almost been mistaken as twins as I followed them into the hallway, although Sally, a working mum, had to work harder at keeping in shape than Sophie, a single career girl. Still, Sally's rounded butt looked an equal to Sophie's tight buns as I gazed upon the pair wiggling and jiggling in their tight skinny jeans before me, their heels raising their pert backsides upward just the way I like it.
They were typical sisters, close but competitive, different, but wanting the same things, as their outfits and overall look illustrated, both having shoulder length hair, dyed to the same shade and cut in almost the same way.
It was very crowded and hot inside, people were crammed in every room and in every space. I broke my leering stare, peeled off and headed upstairs to drop the coats into the bedroom.
I came back down to find Sally already with a large glass of wine deep in conversation with Brian, the neighbour from over the road, a fellow veteran of these dos.
I mingled throughout the night but had to keep sober as I was expected to be fit for the long drive home. Sally got stuck into the wine and soon we were rooms apart, each trapped by the usual small talk.
Sally looked like she was having a much better time than me as she continued to down the wine, engaging herself in animated conversation, lavishly gesturing as she delivered deep insights to the gathered guests.
At around 12.30 I finally caught her eye and gave her the look, I had had enough and wanted to go home.
Sally by now had had a few too many, she swayed, glanced at her watch and motioned me to go upstairs for the coats with an extravagant wave of her wrist.
It must have taken me about twenty minutes before I finally got up the stairs. I was way laid by Sophie's drunken boss for about ten minutes and again by Brian the neighbour, as well as a half a dozen other drunken friends, all asking if I had seen Sophie anywhere. I squeezed past people huddled on the steps to reach my goal; I was worried that Sally would have become impatient and gone upstairs before me to get the coats herself.
As I went in the bedroom was in darkness, the curtains were closed and the room was only partly bathed in the light from the half open door behind me. I noticed the outline of a woman in a pair of white jeans bending over the near side of the bed, seemingly looking for a coat.
My heart sank as my eyes began to adjust to the half light, it was Sally, and I knew I would be in for some grief having taken so long to get there. I pushed the door shut and plunged the room into full darkness. I moved forward and, leading with my cupped hands, groped at her inviting buttocks contained within the tight cotton material.
I expected a shriek and to be told to get off, but I was rewarded with an eager response from my wife. I massaged each mound in turn. She arched her back and pushed her taut butt closer to me. The working out was doing wonders, her buns felt different, neater and somehow firmer.
She raised herself up, moved closer grinding her backside into my crotch. She reached back and cupped my balls.
I moved my right hand around to her feel her warm crotch and trace the outline of her soft pussy lips, camel toed by the seam of the thick cotton material. She gasped and ground her butt back harder as my hand tickled and traced her inner lips.
I moved my left hand to the waistband of her jeans, my right opening the button and drawing down the zip with an echoing rasp.
I wedged my hand down and inside her tight pants, moving it down inside the thin lacy material of her briefs until I could feel her hot and eager twat, neatly trimmed and shaped. Sally only did this when she wanted a good tonguing.
I pushed my finger past her short and silky pubes to the folded skin of her opening and moistening gash. She adjusted her position to allow me better access. She straightened up, opened her legs wider and threw her head back.
The smell of wine on her breath was almost overpowering, not that I minded as I was starting to gain the benefit of its effect on her.
With a start we both stopped dead as we heard the floorboards creak and a fumbling at the bedroom door. Grabbing my hand she quickly led me, stumbling through the darkness, through the small door to the right of the bed and into the en suite bathroom.
There was no window, no light, the small room was pitch black, I couldn't see a thing. Quietly I felt my way to the door knob and clicked it to lock the door.
We paused in silence as the stranger bumped and walked around the bedroom next door. After a few seconds it went quiet, phew, I thought, we hadn't been busted.
Just as I relaxed Sally span me around in the small and dark space, pulled at my belt wildly, tore open the front of my jeans and yanked them down to my knees. She pushed me back against the sink, almost making me fall over. The sink edge was cold on my ass as I rested against it, holding on to steady myself.
She grabbed my stiff member and went down on it, sucking and drawing on it loudly, as if she hadn't seen a cock in months.
I pulled her away as we heard the stranger in the next room bump about again.
We paused again, frozen in the dark silence, waiting for the coast to clear.
She re-started, this time drawing my cock head further into her mouth without making too much noise. She sucked it in until it rested at the very back of her throat. She clamped her lips around the shaft and bobbed her head up and down, pausing only to circle her tongue across the engorged phallus.
Wow, I thought to myself, Sally must have been taking lessons, her technique had definitely improved, her touch different, her sucking harder, her throat somehow deeper and more welcoming.
She raked her nails at my balls, this was also new, she must have grown them especially. It must have been a part of the plot she was hatching with Sophie. As my cock swelled the slurping sounds grew as she continued to wank me off with her lips. She misjudged an upward bob and my cock escaped with a loud pop, echoing in the darkness.
