This was the part I hated most, the culmination of hours spent in sheer dread. It began with the doorbell. Marc stopped what he was doing and gave me a smile, or was it a mischievous grin? I sat up straight, jolted by the sound we'd both been expecting.
"They're here," he said.
I stood and began walking slowly to the door behind him. I had to greet them, too. It's expected of the hostess, after all. My light, summer dress played against my thighs, just inches below my moistening pussy. The fabric brushed my hardening nipples. My body responded to the fear that now replaced the dread. Marc opened the door.
"Come on in. How ya doing?" he greeted them.
"Hi," I echoed, smiling and sounding sincere.
Sam and Jake returned our greetings and handed me a twelve-pack of beer. Sam pecked me on the cheek, and then Jake did the same. I was a little surprised by their forwardness, but their breath was warm and sweet smelling, so I didn't mind. I even used the opportunity to steal glances at their youthful, muscular frames. Though they were only five years younger than Marc and I, their eighteen years seemed downright pubescent. They struck me as young and inexperienced when we first meet them yesterday, and those boyish looks were still there today, though I may have detected a manly leer.
Sam and Jake had summer jobs with the furniture rental company where Marc and I picked out things to fill up our new apartment. They arrived at the new place shortly after we did and set to work bringing in the furniture.
I was ready for work, too. I wore one of Marc's t-shirts on top. It hung loosely over my small breasts, so I went without a bra as I often do. Marc doesn't like bras and always begs me to leave them in the drawer, or the trash (I actually caught him throwing a bra away, once). I often humor him, because I'm just the right size to get away with it. Marc refers to them as small cantaloupes, and they do have that shape. They are still firm and provide a nice shape to my blouses without the aid of a bra. I admit it: I like my breasts, too. The only thing that sometimes causes me some anxious moments is that my nipples are long, and grow to obscene lengths at times of their own choosing. On the bottom I wore a denim skirt that was mid-thigh. I chose it because I thought I would be able to move freely as I worked without concern for modesty. Except for one thing. During the final preparations for our move, my panties got stuck in an unmarked box and I couldn't take the time to find them that morning. Marc, of course, was thrilled by the turn of events, and kept repeating phrases like, "you'll be fine without them. Never mind. You're just with me, anyway." He even used the weather to bolster his argument saying, "you'll be cooler. It will feel good." If you're wondering why I didn't wear jeans, or shorts or something like that to work in, well, I blame Marc again. They had all been stuffed in boxes, carried to the new apartment the previous day, and stacked in who-knows-which pile.
I directed Sam and Jake where to put things, Marc was busy lifting and carrying, too. Toward noon the heavy pieces had all been brought in and the boys were tired and sweaty. My own t-shirt was damp with perspiration and was beginning to cling in ways I wished it wouldn't. No one seemed to notice, though, so I didn't dwell on it.
"Hey, I'm going to jump into the shower before lunch," Marc announced. After my shower I'll order some pizza for us, okay?"
"Great," Sam answered, "thanks." He and Jake sat down on the balcony in the shade to wait.
I brought a couple beers to them.
"We really shouldn't," Jake feigned a protest. "We're still on the clock, you know."
"Go ahead," I encouraged them. "We don't mind."
I pulled up the chaise-lounge opposite them and stretched out on it.
"Oh, that feels good," I said as I stretched my legs and arched my back. "I worked hard, too, you know." I laughed.
"Yeah, I saw you," Jake replied with a smile. "You must be worn out from giving orders."
"Hey, my t-shirt is every bit as sweaty as yours," I held it away from my body. "Just look at that!"
"Stinky, stinky," he teased. "You should lose that stinky thing!"
"Yeah, you'd like that," I laughed, and then released my grasp to allow it to settle once again next to my body.
The boys blushed and exchanged looks as they realized I had taken Jake's comment as a suggestion that I go topless. I blushed then, too, embarrassed that they had been embarrassed.
"So, do you guys work full-time?" I asked to change the subject.
Sam spoke up and explained that they had just graduated from high school, one of those military academies, and were working at the rental company only during the summer. College was on the agenda for Fall. I asked a few questions about their experiences at an all-male high school and they blushed some more when I mentioned how hard it must have been to go four years without girls. As we talked I noticed their eyes wandered from my legs to my breasts and back again. As a woman I've gotten used to such meanderings, I suppose, but I couldn't dismiss it altogether. For one thing, it was flattering to be the center of attention of these two young boys. For another thing, I was self-conscious to begin with because of my lack of panties and my moist t-shirt. My nipples began to grow and harden.
"Wow, that felt good," Marc joined us. "How 'bout you take your turn, Liza. The pizza's on the way."
A shower sounded like a good idea. As I stood I joked, "Yeah, the boys are sick of smelling me."
"I put a stack of towels in the bathroom," Marc said. "Throw out your dirty things and I'll add them to mine in the washer," he added as I walked away.
I was glad to get my rock-hard nipples off the balcony and into the bathroom. I smiled to myself as I thought about the sight those two must have been enjoying, then blushed. Once through the bathroom door I removed my skirt and top and threw them into the hall, calling to Marc that I had done so. The shower felt good. It was cool. The water kept my nipples firm and made them bounce in the stream. God, it felt good. I imagined that Marc was playing with them, as he often does. I could see him in my mind's eye, that boyish grin. Then, slowly, to his face were added those of Jake and Sam. My left hand grabbed a nipple and squeezed. My right hand went to my crotch. 'What are you doing?' I jerked myself from my reverie. I dipped my head in the cool stream of water to chase the thoughts from my mind.
A single towel was on the counter where Marc had promised a stack, but I didn't complain. One was all I needed. I rubbed my short hair dry and
buffed my back. I avoided my breasts and pussy, not wanting to get started on that again. I wrapped the towel around me, as women do, and headed for the bedroom to look for clothes.
"Are you done?" Marc called from the living room.
"Yes."
"Okay, Sam is taking a turn."
I didn't answer or think too much about it. I was busy with the boxes, looking for something to wear. Kitchen appliances. Knives and dishes. Small appliances. Office supplies. No clothes.
"Marc," I shouted, "I can't find my clothes."
No response. I tried calling again, but still got no response.
I looked around a little more. Marc had found his clothes; mine must be here, too. I called again, then gave up and walked into the hall. Just at the same time Sam opened the door to the bathroom and, dripping wet, came out, not noticing me. I stood completely still, not knowing what to do at the sight of this young athlete in all his glory. He grabbed a towel that was on top of the stack on a box beside the door (so that's where they were) and brought it to his eyes and face. I watched as his penis bobbed and swayed with his movements. He was still oblivious to my presence. Before I could decide what to do, Jake came around the corner to see me standing there enjoying the show.
"Sam!" Jake shouted to his friend. Sam looked up to see Jake and me both starring at him. He jumped like a rabbit back into the bathroom and closed the door. I scurried past Jake to the living room, hoping to find Marc. I heard muffled voices and giggling coming from the bathroom as the hair on the back of my neck stood as erect as my nipples under the towel.
'I am an adult. I accidentally stumbled upon Sam. So what? We're all adults. Why am I making so much out of this? Why was I so embarrassed, intrigued. Why was I wet, very wet?' I wrestled with my emotions.
I wondered where Marc had gotten to. I paced the living room. I didn't know where to go, what to do. I continued to pace, alternating between looking out the window searching for Marc and glancing in the direction of the bathroom, trying to make sense of the sounds coming from that direction.
It wasn't long before Sam and Jake came into the room, each wrapped in a towel. The three of us stood there in our towels, looking at each other, waiting for something to happen, for someone to say something.
"Gee, Sam, I'm so sorry," I began, then let my voice trial off. We stood there. Sam blushed brightly, Jake laughed nervously, lightly.
"Marc had to go pick up the pizza after all. They called, so he went for it. He said we could wash up when the bathroom was free," Jake babbled. "We didn't want to eat while we were so sweaty," his voice trailed off, too.
We again just stood there looking at each other, not knowing how to proceed. I suddenly felt very vulnerable. My towel wrapped around me, but it was a stretch for it to tie at the top. It gaped on the side, the opening growing as it reached to just a few inches below my hips, covering my pussy, yes, but not by much.
