Happy New Year?

You'll enjoy the story more if you read Chapter One first, and I strongly encourage it. However, for those who don't, here's a brief recap. Dan and Cathy are married thirty-somethings whose professional and personal lives had grown pretty routine. That is, until they became friends with Scott and Trish. The four of them grew very close, even sharing a condo on a vacation to Florida. Living in such close proximity for a week, which included lots of time on the beach, a lot of sexual tension developed, especially between Dan and Trish. Then, on their final night in the condo, when both spouses were asleep, Dan and Trish shared an intimate moment that threatened to put their relationship on a whole new track.

****

Over the next few months, things got pretty well back to normal. Cathy and I fell back into our work routines and the memory of Florida receded into the background. I still saw Scott at work, of course, and we would frequently have a beer after work or each lunch together. But when it came to doing things as couples, I managed to find an excuse whenever Scott suggested the four of us should get together.

The one good thing that came out of the Florida trip was that Cathy came back happier than I'd seen her in years, perhaps ever. She was more relaxed. She laughed more easily. Our sex life was even better. All of a sudden, she was ready to try new things in the bedroom.

Oh, yes, and she shaved her pussy. That made me happier, too!

Occasionally, she'd ask why we hadn't seen Scott and Trish lately. I'd make some excuse. "I just saw a little too much of them in Florida," I told her. I wanted to take a little break." If she only knew how much I had seen. And been seen.

She always let it drop, though she was smart enough, I'm sure, to figure out that something had happened between Scott and me. Things don't just change like that overnight. But she didn't push it and I was glad.

That's why I was very surprised a couple of weeks before Christmas when she stuck her head in our study, where I was catching up on some paperwork, and announced, "I just got a call from Trish."

"You did?" I hope she couldn't detect the nervousness in my voice.

"Yeah, she asked if we wanted to do something New Year's Eve and I told her we would."

"Shit," I swore without thinking. "Why did you do that?"

"We haven't seen them in a long time, and I thought it would be fun." Her face began to cloud up like a child who's been scolded. "What's the deal with you and Scott, anyway?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, silently kicking myself for letting the conversation go down this road. "I see a lot of Scott at the office. We have a beer after work fairly frequently. Besides, I didn't think you liked being stuck with Trish all that much when we got together so often."

"Yeah, she is a bit of an airhead," Cathy said. "It's pretty hard for us to find anything to talk about. But when the four of us are together, I enjoy it. Seeing you and Scott have such a good time. There's such good chemistry when it's a couples' thing."

I couldn't deny the chemistry. I just hoped she never found out how much there really was. "Okay," I relented. "What have you ladies planned for us?" Suddenly, I began to feel a little flutter of anticipation about seeing Trish again. Some people just get a rush from putting themselves in dangerous situations. Maybe I'm one.

"Nothing big," she explained. "We're just going to get dressed up and go out for a fancy dinner . . ."

"But, . . .," I started to argue.

"No buts. You will get dressed up because I plan to look fabulous that night," she said sternly. "I don't want you making me look bad. Besides, Trish has already been through this with Scott and he agreed."

"So . . . dinner, huh?"

"Then back to our house to ring in the New Year. Now get back to work." And with that, Cathy was gone. And those butterflies in the pit of my stomach were back.

* * * *

The weeks leading up to Christmas flew by, as usual. Between the demands of work and the demands of getting ready for the holiday season, I hardly had time to think. There was one thing I did think about . . . a lot . . . Trish. I kept playing over in my mind the things that happened on the vacation that the four of us took together the previous summer. I thought (some might say fantasized) about how she looked in those skimpy bikinis every day at the beach and how wonderful her skin felt the day she asked me to rub lotion on her back.

But most often, my thoughts drifted back to our final evening at the condo . . . when she caught me masturbating to the sounds of her and Scott having sex. Incredibly, a situation that started as the most embarrassing of my life eventually turned into the most erotic when Trish told me she wanted to watch. Not only did she watch, she offered an assist by dropping her towel and displaying her magnificent body while I got myself off.

When that incident ended, Trish made it plain that she would enjoy taking things farther . . . something that scared me silly, first because I didn't want to jeopardize my marriage to Cathy. However, the really scary thing was how much I wanted my best friend's sexy wife. I thought about that a lot in the days leading up to the New Year's Eve double date that Cathy and Trish had arranged.

Almost before I realized it, Christmas was over and Cathy and I were in our bedroom getting dressed for our evening out with Scott and Trish. I don't mind admitting that I was a nervous wreck, not knowing what to expect from the evening. Would Trish do something to make things uncomfortable? Would I? At that point, all I could do was wait and see.

Fortunately, I was at least temporarily distracted by my wife as she stood in front of the full-length mirror, carefully assessing how she looked as she dressed for the evening. Ever since our return from the Florida trip, Cathy had been surprising me with subtle changes in how she looked, even how she behaved.

One of the most notable changes, of course, was the fact that she had taken to shaving herself completely bare, something I loved very much. I couldn't get enough of the sight and feel of her smooth mound. The change had done wonders for our sex life. We were making love more often. She seemed much more willing to try new things. She even showed me a few. I couldn't believe the dramatic effect of a simple change in grooming habits.

But it was more than that. She seemed to be doing her makeup a little differently . . . a subtle difference, certainly, but one that made her appear, for lack of a better term, more glamorous. Her hair style changed subtly as well. Whereas, during most of our marriage, she had worn her dark brown hair up on most weekdays to present a more professional look at work, Cathy had more recently begun wearing it down, cascading past her shoulders for a more casual look.

And this New Year's Eve certainly underscored my impressions about the change in my wife's sense of style. As I proceeded to tie my red silk necktie, I watched her out of the corner of my eye, as she sat on the bed and carefully slipped on a pair of black stockings with lace tops, which she then affixed to a garter belt that she had slipped on over her extremely brief black lacy thong.

I'd never known Cathy to wear anything but panty hose whenever the occasion called for hosiery, but the stockings were another indication of her more "daring" style.

She walked over to the full-length mirror where I had just finished with my tie and examined her image up and down, pausing to adjust her breasts in the delicate black strapless bra that matched her sexy panties. It was cut so low that half her areolas peeked out from the lacy cups.

Finally, she slipped the dress she had chosen for the evening over her head. It, too, was black, with a full skirt and a hem that rested much closer to the tops of her stockings than to her knee. The top was cut low in front to reveal an almost-daring amount of cleavage, then fastened at the back of her neck.

"Wow," I said appreciatively. "You look amazing!"

"Why, thank you kind sir," she responded, reaching up to straighten my necktie. "You look pretty hot yourself. See, I told you it would be fun to dress up."

"Well, you really outdid yourself tonight," I continued. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear anything so . . . so . . . revealing. Not that I don't like it," I hastened to add. "I like it a lot. It's just that it's just sort of . . . different."

"Hey, it's New Year's Eve," she said with a smile. "If there's ever a time to dress a little sexy, tonight is the night."

"I guess you're right," I agreed. "Besides, I like the new you."

"The new me?" she looked puzzled.

"Sure, the hair, the makeup, the sexy undergarments. These are all new. I love them, but I've noticed the change."

"Are you complaining?" she said with a wink, as she moved her hand between my legs to massage my cock, which began to stiffen almost immediately at her touch. She continued to caress me sensuously as I put my arms around her and leaned down for a kiss.

"Hold it, mister," she warned. "I worked an hour to get this make up just right, and I don't want it messed up before we even leave the house."

I had to agree that a kiss would certainly have smudged the deep red lipstick that she had applied to her full lips, not to mention how much would probably have ended up on the collar of my white shirt. "Okay," I said reluctantly. "But if you keep teasing me like that, I'm not going to be responsible for what might happen to your makeup."

"There will be plenty of time for kissing later," she smiled knowingly. "Now let's get going. Scott and Trish are probably already at the restaurant waiting for us." With that, she turned and walked out the bedroom door and down the stairs.

"All right," I called after her. "I'm coming, I'm coming." I pulled on the jacket to my black pinstriped suit and followed after her, wondering what other surprises the evening might hold.

* * * *

It turned out that Cathy was right. By the time we finally made the twenty-minute drive to the restaurant, handed the keys to the valet and checked Cathy's coat, Scott and Trish were waiting in the bar with half-finished drinks in hand.

I saw Scott first, wearing a navy blazer and grey slacks. He was wearing a white shirt like mine, and his deep maroon tie matched the silk handkerchief peeking out of his coat pocket.

Then, I saw Trish, and the sight of her nearly stopped in me in my tracks. Having not seen her for over four months, it was as if I'd forgotten how beautiful and sexy she was.

Her dress was black, like Cathy's. But it was strapless and clung precariously to her full breasts. The bodice sparkled with layers of shiny black sequins, and the skirt hugged her formidable curves down to where it ended about six inches above the knee.

It didn't appear that she was wearing any stockings, but her long legs looked beautifully smooth and tanned. She seemed even taller than usual in what had to be at least four-inch heels on a pair of black pumps that sparkled in the light like her dress.

"Sorry to keep you guys waiting," I managed to say, as I was able to focus once again.

"No problem," Scott said, "We haven't even had time to finish one drink. Let me tell the hostess we're all here now." And with that, Scott walked into the next room, leaving me alone with Cathy and Trish.

Trish didn't say a word to me at first. I couldn't tell whether she was angry because I'd been turning down their invitations to get together for the past several months, or whether she was possibly amused at how she had scared me during our encounter in the Florida condo. The silence was beginning to get uncomfortable, so I decided I needed to say something.

"Wow," I said, forgetting for a moment to restrain my enthusiasm. "That's some dress," I said looking at Trish.

She smiled that quizzical smile that I'd first seen when she saw me masturbating in the condo, and just looked back at me for a long time. Finally, she responded, "Thank you. I'm assuming you meant that as a compliment."

"Of course I meant it as a compliment," I said. "You look very pretty tonight." I glanced at Cathy during this exchange and saw her seemingly trying to suppress a smile.

"It's been so long, I thought you'd probably forgotten what I even look like," Trish continued. "Have you been hiding from me, Dan?"

"No, I . . . uh," I mumbled, stalling for time and feeling my neck getting warm. "You know . . . work and all."

"Yes," Cathy interjected, "Dan's been working incredibly hard . . . ever since we got back from Florida. He just doesn't seem to find time for much of anything else. Well," she added with a grin, "I guess he's had time enough for one thing." And with that, Cathy's eyes drifted from my face downward until the fixated on my crotch.

"Oh, has Dan been a naughty boy?" Trish teased, smiling at Cathy. "I'll just bet he can be VERY naughty. He just tries to fool everyone with that mild-mannered exterior." Then she looked back at me. "But he can't fool me."

Both women were just looking at me and smiling, leaving me at a total loss for words. Thankfully, Scott rescued me about that time by announcing that our table was ready. I was definitely grateful for a change of subject.

We followed the hostess to a table for four in the corner of the dimly lit restaurant. While it seated a fairly large number of people, the lighting and the décor gave the place an intimate feel.

Each table was topped with a white tablecloth and intricately folded black napkins, accented by a centerpiece of fresh white flowers and black candles resting on a mirrored base. The black and white theme gave the table a very elegant feel.

We ordered a round of drinks, then another, and the conversation became more and more relaxed. By the time the waiter finally took our dinner order, it was beginning to feel like old times. I realized just how much I'd missed the times that Cathy and I had shared with Scott and Trish.

The chemistry between the four of us was, indeed, very good. I felt foolish that I'd let the incident in Florida keep us from enjoying each other like this.

About that time, however, I realized I might have been right after all--right to be concerned about what might develop. I came to that conclusion because Trish had apparently kicked off her shoe and was in the process of slipping her foot beneath the cuff of my slacks and inching it up my leg!

Trying to keep from giving anything away, I glanced to my right at Trish with my best "what the hell are you doing?" expression. She just smiled back, as if nothing at all was happening.

By this time, she had made it up past my sock and I could feel her foot against my bare leg. Once she felt my skin, she began to move her foot up and down very lightly, caressing me with her toes.

Scott and Cathy were involved in their own side conversation at the time and seemed oblivious to what was going on under the table.

Despite my best efforts to remain in control, I could feel myself getting hard. The feeling in my gut was exactly what I'd felt that night back in Florida, when Trish told me she wanted to watch me touch myself. It was a weird combination of fear and arousal, one apparently fueling the other.

I sat there nearly motionless while I tried to figure out the best course of action. By this time, what I really wanted to do was slip my shoe off, slide my foot underneath Trish' dress and press it against that beautifully bare pussy of hers. But I knew that was not an option. I was still mentally exploring others when our waiter returned with our salads.

"I just love the salad here," Cathy said. "The greens are so fresh, and they put so many things on them that you just don't get in most restaurants."

Before anyone else could respond, Trish spoke up. "Dan, I dropped my napkin. Could you reach down and get it for me. My arms aren't long enough."

I knew exactly what she was doing, but I really wasn't in a position to do anything other than what she asked. So I reached down, trying to retrieve the fallen napkin without having to stick my head beneath the tablecloth. But my arms weren't long enough, either, so I scooted my chair back, lifted the tablecloth and slipped my head beneath the table.

I didn't see the napkin right away . . . mainly because it was pinned beneath Trish' foot . . . a move apparently designed to make it more difficult to for me to get my hands on it. I also noted that Trish' legs were quite far apart and that her short dress had ridden up to expose most of her thighs.

The sight of the tender flesh of her inner thighs made my erection swell further, especially when I noticed that she was not wearing panties. She was nearly as exposed as she had been that night when she opened her towel for me.

As I leaned farther down, finally getting my hand on the elusive napkin, I was close enough that I could actually smell her sweet feminine scent. Of course, that did nothing but ratchet up my arousal.

Trish kept her left foot planted firmly on top of the napkin as I tugged to free it. It was obvious she was trying to keep me down there as long as possible.

"Do you see anything, Dan?" Trish asked, trying to sound innocent, when she actually knew I could see EVERYTHING.

"Yeah," I called up. "I think I can feel it." And with that, I slid my hand up the inside of her thighs and traced my finger along the length of her moist slit. I could feel that her lips were swollen with arousal.

The surprise of feeling my finger on her pussy made Trish squirm just enough to allow me to jerk the napkin from beneath her foot. Before anything else could happen, I quickly emerged from beneath the table and handed Trish her napkin.

"Thank you, Dan," she cooed, smiling sweetly.

"You're very welcome," I responded, returning her smile. Then, as I furtively raised my fingertips to my mouth and licked them, I mouthed, "Thank you."

* * * *

After the napkin incident, dinner proceeded smoothly. The food and drink were excellent and the company even better. The four of us caught up on what had been going on in our lives the past few months, and with the help of a couple more drinks, I was feeling very relaxed. It was nearly ten when we finally finished dessert and decided it was time to move the party to our house.

"I don't know about anyone else," I announced, "but I don't think I need to be driving after drinking so much. How about we take a taxi back to our place?"

"I guess we can pick up the cars tomorrow," Scott agreed. "Let's make sure the valet parks them where we can find them."

"What's this world coming to?" Cathy laughed. "Are you telling me two men are actually showing good judgment?"

"Maybe it's a New Year's resolution," Trish suggested with a smile. "Let's see how long it lasts."

While the girls sipped on the last of the after dinner drinks, Scott and I spoke to the valet and made arrangements to pick up our cars the next day. We gave him a generous tip and I went to get Cathy and Trish while Scott retrieved the coats.

Surprisingly, we didn't have to wait too long for a taxi, considering it was New Year's Eve. I guess most of the drunks wouldn't be trying to get home until much later.

The four of us squeezed ourselves into the back seat, glad to huddle together against the cold December night. We laughed and talked during the early part of the ride, but by the time the taxi had pulled onto the expressway for the final 15 minutes of the trip, things had fallen silent.

Cathy and Trish were squeezed together between Scott and me, and as things got quiet Cathy leaned over to rest her head on my shoulder. I repositioned myself so I could put my arm around her, and in the process glanced over to see that Scott and Trish were busy making out.