"That'll be great. Crack the can and don't bother with a glass."
"Easy."
I grabbed a couple from the fridge and pulled the tabs, handing one to him. "Here's to a good trip, and Wales to take the crown."
"You'll not be surprised I'm supporting the fifteen men in white", he replied. "But you're a hard team to beat just now. It won't always be so."
We settled down to the usual joshing. And also, unsurprisingly, I was arguing for Gareth Edwards as the greatest player of all time; one of the very few predictions I've ever made that came anywhere close to being realised. Then I noticed his gaze shift over my shoulder and that small smile of a man observing a lovely lady entering the room and wondering what his chances might be.
I swivelled slowly and reckoned his chances looked excellent.
"Hi, darling. Wine?"
"Oh yes!"
I put down my can and went to do my duty at the winebox. Jo had sharpened her makeup and changed into a white low-cut blouse with a change of bra to the sort that enhances the cleavage, very tight white trousers and white heels. The trousers were cut to show the shape of the outer cunt lips over a tight central crease. An effect I was to learn in later life was called a "camel toe". Right now, the effect was just downright dirty. But the clincher was that underneath she had put on a black suspender belt and black stockinged feet filled her white high heels. I'd seen the trousers before but never with that choice of underwear. The outline was obvious and the darker colour just detectable under the very tightly stretched and so very slightly transparent white material. I had wondered how she was going to signal her availability, if she was going to at all. This was a masterstroke. She seemed to have forgotten to put on any knickers. It was a good thing I was at the winebox as I fought to keep control of my engorging cock. I returned with her glass and quickly excused myself to see to things at the kitchen end of the long through room.
On the way I visited the record deck and tape machines and switched from Mozart piano to a collection featuring the likes of Isaac Hayes. Slow, soft and soulful, it was a tape we dubbed the "knicker dropper". Albeit there seemed to be no knickers to drop. I dished up the soup and let people know things were ready, and Jo and Phil came over from the lounge area by the front window to the table set at the side of the middle ground. The big single open plan space was divided up by large bookcases set between the two pillars which were all that remained of the original corridor wall. On the other side from the dining area was a small office space with a filing cabinet, desk, chair and Anglepoise lamp. No computer, just a typewriter. We sat down to eat and I took the role of waiter while Jo and Phil continued chatting away, mostly shop, but that's what colleagues do. After a decent attempt had been made to demolish the cottage pie and offers of ice-cream or cheesecake had been declined, we returned to the comfort of the lounge with our drinks. I dimmed the lighting.
"We need to talk about payment for your hospitality", said Phil.
"No, we don't" returned Jo. "This is about saving expenses for the firm while we all have a good time. That way we can afford business trips when we need them without hitting the wafer-thin margins we operate on."
I sat back to watch this play out. This was a difficult one for Phil. Technically, he would be taking on someone who was both his senior and who had made a major contribution to getting the West Country office off the ground. Again, I needn't have worried. Phil swirled the Talisker I'd persuaded him to try, as he looked like a man collecting his thoughts. But he wasn't.
"Don't take this the wrong way folks, but there may be a way of my making things right without infringing the ground rules." He paused. "Do you lovely people by any chance enjoy the occasional blue movie?"
"Yes, we do", replied Jo. "But it is very occasional. I'm afraid we have only a couple of really tame films here, though we do have a screen and a small Super 8 projector."
"That's not a worry. When I was at uni I supplemented my income running a small and very discreet students' club. I imported films from Scandinavia. I declared the income to the tax people - never cross the Inland Revenue - and I was luckily able to avoid the attentions of the busybodies who don't like people having fun. That's all in the past now but I still have a few films. I brought a couple with me which I'd like to leave with you as my thank you. It's what I do these days, give the stuff away to friends. In the long run I see erotica becoming much more widely available than it is now so I don't need to keep an attic full!"
"That's a very kind thought Phil", said Jo as she pounced on the opening he had offered her. "But it might be a good idea to watch the films together before you leave them. A nostalgic moment for you perhaps?"
"Why not?", he replied, smiling broadly. "I was hoping we could reach an amicable arrangement along those lines."
"This sounds like a job for the audio-visual specialists from event management. I'll go and tidy up in the kitchen while you both set things up. You can move the office desk to stand the projector on. You may have to set it on the edge as the reel capacity is quite small so with larger spools the bottom reel may come below the base of the projector."
Jo grinned. "Typical. Delegate the job to us experts then start providing instructions!"
I trotted off, thoroughly chastened, to do my menial duties. I thought I'd leave them a good while to allow for developments, which was easy enough as I had a fair bit to do. Once I'd got things shipshape, I made my way back past the bookcase dividers, noticing the desk had gone, and stopped at the last divider. I put a hand against the case. "By the time I get to Phoenix" was burbling away in the background. Jo and Phil had everything set up and were leant over side by side with Jo nearer to me fiddling with the film feed in the projector. Phil's left hand rested on Jo's beautiful white clad bottom. He was tracing a line which would take his fingers from roughly her clitoris to her anus. Or rather his fingers were tracing the line; Jo was rocking very gently back and fore so that was the result. A tableau of raw eroticism. And a multitasking test for which she was earning top marks. She saw me out of the corner of her eye and I smiled. They carried on. I carried on watching. My cock carried on trying to burst out of my trousers.
Suddenly Jo steadied herself with a hand on the desk and looked round. "Hi, darling. I think we've got it sorted. It's an older black and white film reissued on super 8, and the sprocket slots on the first frames are worn. Phil says the other one is a colour version which hasn't been screened much, if at all."
"Well done, both of you", I replied. I didn't try to hide the bulge in my attire and noticed Phil had the same problem, though on a larger scale, when they both stood up from their joint efforts. "Is this show time, then?"
"Looks that way", said Phil.
I made my way to the armchair and left the settee to them. "Great. You get things going and then I'll kill the lights."
The machine whirred into life and the flickering intro frames flashed onto the screen. I nipped up and lost the lights and sat back down. We were illuminated by the light from the screen, and a very faint glow from the other end of the room where I'd left a kitchen shelf lamp on.
"Would you mind if gentlemen were permitted to loosen their clothing darling? Things can get pretty tight watching this sort of thing otherwise", I asked.
"If you mean 'can you boys get your cocks out?' the answer is yes, please! Soon as you like. Now, if you prefer."
I unzipped and let my straining stiffy get some fresh air. Phil did likewise, revealing a rock-hard truncheon of very impressive size indeed. Jo licked her lips, eyes locked on the beast. The music continued to burble in the background and the film flickered away. Phil put his hand between Jo's legs and began his gentle stroking again, this time in the other direction. Jo thrust her hips in unison and Phil leant over and whispered something to her. She giggled and looked over to me. "He says I should treat it as a lollipop."
"Excellent advice, my dear", I replied.
And in one of those deft moves only women seem able to manage Jo reached for the side zip of her trousers, unzipped them, pushed them down over her gorgeous buttocks and swivelled up onto the settee at the same time so she was kneeling side on to Phil. She took the head of his cock in her mouth while leaving her almost naked bum within easy reach. I divided my attention between them both and the screen, where a couple of fully dressed people were kissing on a settee not dissimilar to ours. I wondered whether they'd catch up with Jo and Phil anytime soon.
On screen the woman lay back as the man got down beside her and knelt on the floor. They continued kissing as he gently raised her skirt, sliding his hand up her leg. She lifted briefly to help him as stocking tops, suspender clips and then her girdle came into view. She was wearing white full cut knickers and he started stroking her gusset. She thrust her hips in encouragement the way Jo does. I was thinking Jo would like this bit, and would be able to see better were she facing the screen when Phil softly said something to her, she nodded, got up to face the screen, then bent with her hands on the lowish coffee table in front of the desk and projector thus presenting her bare bum to Phil. He got up, stood behind her and gently pushed his cock into her crack. First, he slipped slowly into her cunt and then withdrew and slid the helmet up to her anus and pushed gently. Then he slid back to her cunt and entered her again. Then slowly repeated. Each time he pushed gently against her anus Jo pushed back. They were working together to get her naturally lubricated and slowly opened up. I probably didn't need to mention the Vaseline or the Johnsons.
