Naughty Nattie

Time went by. After a couple of years I got a new job in Birmingham, so Trish and I moved up to the Midlands. This meant we saw quite a lot less of George and Claire, and unfortunately we lost touch with Gordon and Linda completely, and never have regained the contact with them. Still, we continued to find interesting new friends from time to time...

When I started work in the new office, I met a bloke that I got on with really well. Peter and I soon started going to the pub together at lunchtimes, and not long after, he invited Trish and me round to dinner with him and his wife Natasha. No, she wasn't Russian; her parents had just liked the name, we later learnt. Of course, we accepted - swapping dinner parties with friends was one of our major sources of reasonably low-cost entertainment, apart from anything else.

We hadn't met them socially before, so we dressed quite formally for the evening, and when we arrived we found that they had done likewise - both blokes in collar and tie (although I'd topped Pete by having a bow tie), and both ladies in long evening dresses. Nattie was by no means slender, I discovered, so formal dress really suited her better anyway.

Pete poured us all a rather generous drink, and we sat around and chatted for a bit about this and that. After another aperitif or two, we sat down to what turned out to be a really good meal - as I discovered to my delight, Natasha was (and is) a really first-class cook - possibly even better than Trish, and that's saying something.

After we'd eaten and the table was clear, we all sat around in the lounge together, on the floor and slightly merry, playing Scrabble. We'd decided to play pairs, with Nattie and me against Pete and Trish.

At first I didn't register when Natasha moved closer to me, so that she was actually sitting just on the edge of my right hand - I just moved it away a bit. But soon she moved again, and her soft, warm bum was back on top of it again.

"Now, that's interesting," I thought. "What's she up to?"

So I left my hand where it was, and wiggled my fingers against her cheek just a little bit, to make it clear I was aware she was there and I wasn't objecting.

Pete had an arm round Trish's shoulder, and from where I sat it looked like he was wondering whether he'd get a chance to slip it down inside her dress and fondle a tit; but Nattie didn't seem at all bothered by this. And as you'll know by now, I wasn't going to object; so I caught his eye and winked approval at him.

But just for once, I don't think Trish had snogging or sex on her mind at all. She was really intent on the Scrabble, and she simply wasn't thinking about anything much else. She moved back slightly into Pete's shoulder, almost instinctively, to make it easier for him to surreptitiously slip his hand down inside her neckline and cup her boob; but I think she'd actually forgotten for the time being that it was him, not me, that was groping her. And then when she did realise, she grinned at me then snuggled back a bit further to make it easier still for him.

If Nattie had noticed this by-play (which I don't actually think she had), she didn't seem to be at all put out. In fact, she chose this moment to move around a bit more, now making it quite definite that she was flexing her buttock muscles against my hand. It seemed pretty clear that she was also up for a bit of surreptitious groping, given what was going on across the board from us. So next time she shifted her weight, I quickly turned my hand over, palm upwards, so that I could cup her bum rather than having the back of my hand pressed against it.

Nattie sat like that for a while, flexing a bit in evident enjoyment of my hand squeezing her bum through her long skirt. Then she shifted a bit and re-arranged her skirt, and I nearly knocked my Scrabble rack over in surprise - my right hand was now cupping a soft, warm, bare female buttock!

Either she was wearing panties as brief as Trish's normal G-string ones, or she wasn't wearing any at all - and I was starting to suspect that the latter might well be the case. I wriggled my fingers a bit more, hoping to find out either way, and making it clear that I was aware of the privilege that I'd been accorded. But for the moment, Nattie just sat firmly on my hand and leaned back against my arm.

I could have taken that as discouragement, but when I made as if to remove my hand, she muttered, "Oh, stop wriggling, Dave! I'm just comfy leaning here!" Then she flexed her bum muscles again, making it clearer than ever that she wanted me to keep up the squeezing and fondling of her bottom. Peter was still playing one-handed, with his other hand cupping Trish's boob, although as I said it wasn't really all that obvious; and Trish was still concentrating on the Scrabble, practically ignoring Pete except to move a bit from time to time so his hand didn't go to sleep.

Anyway, it was now my turn, and I saw a really good chance. With my free hand, I was able to make an eight-letter word ("KNICKERS," funnily enough, using a blank tile for one of the K's) and I cleared my rack for the 50-point bonus.

"Ooh! Well done! I like it!" Nattie exclaimed, wriggling appreciatively on my other hand. "Why do I never have those?" Well, she could have been talking about 50-point bonuses, but... now I got my reward for putting us firmly into the lead: she adjusted her position a bit more, I moved my hand slightly to compensate, and I found my suspicions were right. No, she definitely didn't have knickers - my fingers slid smoothly against and partly into a hairy, very slippery and totally accessible pussy!

I later found that Nattie is, in fact, quite dogmatically "anti-panty." Just like Trish did, she got married with no drawers on under her wedding dress; but she simply doesn't wear them anyway, under any circumstances. The only time she ever covers her pussy, she claims, is when she wears trousers (in which case she still doesn't wear knickers) or if she puts on a swimsuit.

And I can't think of a single occasion when I've been able to verify that she was fibbing about this - and over the years I've been given a fair few chances to check, as you'll find out if you read the rest of this work. And come to think of it, I've hardly ever known her to wear a bra, either, despite her knockers being a good deal more generous than Trish's. Nowadays, she's getting on for fifty and certainly no "Twiggy" figure-wise - but I know for a fact that she still doesn't wear panties, hardly ever wears a bra, and what's more has strongly encouraged her daughter to follow the same fashion.

Well, anyway, back to that Scrabble game - finding such a wet and willing snatch seemed a bit too good to be true, but there was certainly no doubt about it. I wiggled my fingers a bit more, and Nattie wriggled a bit on them and got herself into a kneeling position, with my hand at her pussy from behind - and soon I had my thumb well up her twat and a couple of fingers gently stroking and manipulating her love-bud. Her appreciative movements left me in no doubt at all that she was enjoying the massage, either!

Meanwhile, my wife and Nattie's husband sat opposite, only a couple of feet away; and as far as I could tell, quite unaware of what we two were up to. To be sure, they were both enjoying Pete's tit-squeezing activities, apparently under the impression that we hadn't noticed. Well, I was fairly sure Nattie hadn't noticed, although they were both aware that I had. But little did they realise what was happening on our side of the board!

In fact, Pete never did find out, until I happened to tell him about it only a year or so ago when he dropped in overnight and we happened to get chatting - and as you'll see, Trish certainly didn't at the time!

The trouble was, the game finished just then. Nattie and I had won despite other distractions, and Trish decided that she and I should go straight home, as she had to be in at work rather early the next day to finish off something that she'd left so as to come to the dinner in the first place.

Before we got up, Nattie tried to persuade her to stay a bit longer, (I wonder why?) but Trish was adamant, and had gently and inconspicuously removed Pete's hand from its haven. Rather disgustedly, I allowed my own hand to slip from where it was feeling very warm (and more than a bit sticky), and we bade our good-byes and left.

As soon as we were alone in the car, I asked her, "Why did you have to insist on leaving so sharp? I was really enjoying myself!"

"What d'you mean? It was only a game of Scrabble, and it was finished anyway! I suppose you noticed Pete having a good grope of my tit, didn't you?" I grinned and nodded. "In fact..." she said, pulling the top of her dress down slightly, ..." yes, look, you can still see his handprint on my tit!" She grinned at me.

"But I could see you weren't getting any reciprocal treat, so even if Nattie didn't seem to notice what her husband got up to with me, I thought I'd take you home for fair do's!"

"Well, that was very considerate of you, dear," I said, "but it was only a game of Scrabble, was it? Shows what your powers of observation are like!..." and I wafted my sticky fingers under her nose. "What d'you think this is, you rotten cow - prawn cocktail?"

She sniffed my fingers. "Jesus, you cheeky bastard - what, were you fingering her while we were playing?" She took my hand. "Bloody Hell, most of your hand's tacky!"

"Oh, absolutely, my dear - I practically had my whole hand up her pussy, and it wasn't me that started it at all, at all, I can tell you!"

"Ah," she said. "Oh, dear. Oh, what a pity. Sorry! Well, I s'pose it's too late to do go back and do anything about it now. I *am* sorry, though - I didn't realise what was up, as you might say! Still, that'll teach you not to let your wife know what's happening! "Never mind, we'll invite them round to our place soon, and you can take up where you left off - I could quite fancy Pete, come to think of it!"

Then she saw me moving my fingers towards my mouth to lick them clean before I got the driving wheel sticky. "Hang on a mo' - can I have a lick too, please? I always wondered what another girl's pussy juice might taste like!"

So we shared Nattie's flavour, taking turns to lick my fingers clean.

Isn't it lovely to have that sort of relationship with your wife? Honestly, that really was her reaction!

- o -

So, a couple of weeks later, Pete and Nattie came round to our place for a return dinner date. I suspect they had an idea that we had something more than just a meal in mind, too, given what had happened at their place.

Nattie was wearing a full length but rather light-weight cotton dress, and as she stood in the doorway with the light of the street lamp behind her, I could see through it pretty clearly... and there didn't look to be any undies at all beneath it (I hadn't yet learnt that she never wore them anyway).

Once again it was a very good meal. Trish is no mean cook, either, and I think she took Nattie's excellent offering of a week or two before as a bit of a challenge. And again, the wine flowed fairly freely and inhibitions were, as ever, gently washed away on a tide of wine.

I got a chance for a bit more of a grope with Nattie at table, and I suspected that Trish was up to something similar on the other side with Pete. In fact, I think she must have been feeling quite guilty at having cut me off early, so to speak, on the last occasion. As we sat around in the lounge after dinner, I could tell that she was pretending to be drunk; and indeed rather more so than she really was.

"Let'sh have shome music!" she slurred.

She went over to the record rack and selected what appeared to be a "pop classical" LP. However, I knew this record included "The Stripper" near the end of the first side, although it wasn't obvious from its sleeve that it did. I had a suspicion what was coming - and I was right!

We sat around and nattered for ten or twenty minutes, then the track in question started to play. Trish pretended to look surprised, but then got up (still making out she was a bit tiddly) and started to dance around sexily to the music, saying, "I like thish one!"

Now, she'd done a striptease several times before for me, and once or twice (as I think I mentioned) with George and Claire also present. But this was the first time I'd seen her strip in anyone else's presence - and I have to say that Trish really does give a good performance as a stripper. I honestly think she could have got a job as a professional in that line, despite not having a particularly spectacular figure, if she'd wanted to - she really knows how to move sexily, as well as how to pace things and maximise the effect.

This time, she danced around to the music for some time while remaining fully clothed, miming as if she was going to take something off but not actually doing so, just as might be expected of someone pretending to do this sort of thing as a bit of a drunken lark.

Then she gave me a wink, so I provided the impetus by saying, also slightly tipsily, "Go on, gerr'em orf!" as if I was a punter in a pub stripper's audience.

Trish made a big thing of looking at me with raised eyebrows, as if she wasn't sure how to take this, then turned to Pete and Nattie and rather archly asked, "Well? Shall I?"

Pete nodded with some enthusiasm (of course!) and Nattie grinned cheerfully and said, "Well, yeah, sure, if you want to!" So Trish started to unbutton her blouse. We all clapped encouragingly, in time to the music, and once she'd got the buttons unfastened she whipped it off with a flourish and tossed it to Pete. She was wearing a bra this time, but it was a small, lacy formal item that didn't conceal much.

Next she ran her fingers round inside the waistband of her skirt. This was elastic, and she made as if to slip it down her hips a couple of times, then pulled it back up again, in real professional teasing style.

The music reached a minor climax, and Trish slid the skirt down over her hips, far enough to let it slip the rest of the way to the floor, then stepped neatly out of it. I reached out and grabbed it so she wouldn't trip - after all, I still wasn't quite sure exactly how drunk or sober she was.

This left her in just a tiny bra and equally small g-string panties - she'd decided not to wear tights or stockings that evening anyway.

She carried on dancing for a bit, moving round the room. Pete and Nattie were on the sofa and I was in an armchair. Trish moved behind me, and brushed her bosom against the back of my head as she passed me... then did likewise for Pete. Funny, he seemed to need to adjust his trousers. Er, come to think of it, so did I, for that matter.

As I watched her pass behind Pete and Nattie, I realised that my mate had one hand in the same position on his wife that he'd managed with Trish when we were at their place - round her shoulder, and cupping her tit inside her dress. The fact that I could clearly see this didn't seem to worry either of them - Nattie saw the direction of my gaze and my raised eyebrow, and just grinned at me and wiggled her shoulder a bit, setting the other tit jiggling fetchingly for a second.

The music picked up tempo again, and now Trish, standing to one side of us so that we could all see her, started to fiddle with the fastening of her bra behind her back. By now she'd dropped all pretence of being too drunk. She raised an eyebrow questioningly at me, and on receiving my grin of agreement, she did the "professional" business of unfastening the bra but using her hands to hold it against her boobs as she let the straps drop. Then with a quick movement, she turned to me, whipped it off and tossed it in my lap.

She carried on dancing now, but for a few seconds she teased Pete & Nattie by continuing to face me, so that they couldn't actually see her unfettered tits. Then the music gave her the right prompt, and she pirouetted with her hands above her head, giving them the chance to fully appreciate her assets, as you might say.

Now, of course, only her G-string was left - and that didn't hide very much anyway, especially from behind. And the music was heading for its final climax.

Trish timed things really well. She carried on dancing around suggestively, first offering a nipple to me to kiss, then doing likewise for Pete but twisting away just as he was pursing his lips to oblige.

Then she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her drawers and looked inquiringly at us, but although she made as if to remove them several times, even flashing half an inch of her thatch on one occasion, she kept pulling them back up again. Finally, just as the track ended and it seemed that she'd bottled out of doing the "Full Monty," she whipped her pants off quite suddenly, and tossed them straight into Pete's face.

That was the last track on that side, and as the music fell silent, she stood there, hands on hips and pussy thrust forward almost in their faces, naked as the day she was born - and a damn sight more sexy. We all applauded - and to my interest, I think Nattie's applause was the most enthusiastic of any of us.

Then, as cool as you please, Trish moved to the hi-fi, turned the record over, and said, "Pete, may I have the next dance, please?"

The first track on the other side was a slow, smoochy number, and Pete didn't really need much encouragement. He cast half a look at Nattie for approval as he got up, but she didn't even notice - she'd already leant across to give me a smacking kiss, and had one hand round my neck and the other inside my shirt!

So Pete got up and started dancing with Trish, and I moved across onto the settee to smooch with his better half.

Watching them dance was quite a turn-on for us. Trish had Pete's shirt unbuttoned in about twenty seconds flat (while he was still trying to decide where he could get away with putting his hands).

Then she started fiddling with the fastenings of his trousers. She looked round him at me, to make sure she wasn't pushing too hard, and saw that I'd undone the top of Nattie's dress and was getting a couple of good handfuls of her rather generous boobs; and that Nattie had done likewise with my shirt and, taking her cue from Trish, was starting on my flies. So Trish started paying attention to her own dancing partner again, and soon Pete's trousers joined mine on the floor.

By the end of the next track we were all four totally starkers. In fact, as I'd rather suspected, Nattie had worn nothing under her dress anyway; so getting her naked was no great problem!

As the music ended, Trish tried to pull Pete down onto the rug, but he seemed a bit reluctant. They had a whispered conversation, then she shrugged and said, "We're going up to our bedroom for a bit - are you two OK here? If not, the spare bed's made up!"

"Going up for a bit, eh? A bit of what, I wonder? What *could* you two have in mind?" Nattie asked with a chuckle. "Well, whatever you're going to have a bit of with Pete, that's OK as long as I can have a bit of the same with Dave!"

"But of course, my dear," replied Trish. "Fair's fair, after all!"

It turned out that, although Peter had no particular worry about nudity (especially in the company of two attractive ladies), he was a bit bashful about actually screwing in the same room as another man.

I soon found that Nattie was - and is - a real turn-on. Logically, I shouldn't fancy her at all. She's quite a bit too generously built for my usual tastes - but like Trish, she's one of those ladies who simply ooze sex-appeal, quite regardless of appearance and state of dress.

She also has an appetite for sex that generally keeps me short on sleep for a night whenever we meet, and the wettest, stickiest and most ever-ready pussy that I've ever had the pleasure of inserting any part of my anatomy into. When Nattie's really after it, she can even put Trish in second place for voraciousness!