I'd been dating Emmy for about two months, when she suggested a double date with Mel and Andrew. I think Mel and Emmy had known each other since university, and they were now flatmates, whereas Andrew and I are old friends.
Because of that, I didn't think much of it, and readily agreed.
So it was that we found ourselves going back to the girls' flat, late one Friday night. We settled into chairs in the lounge, and Mel dug about in a drawer for a pack of cards, while Emmy organized some drinks, which turned out to be a couple of bottles of wine.
"Emmy, I can't find the cards: did you have them last?" Mel called to the kitchen.
"Yeah—aren't they in the top left drawer?" came back the answer.
"Uh...ah, yes, got them!" Mel announced, closing the drawer and clearing the coffee table between the seats. As Emmy brought the glasses and bottles back, Mel started to deal. I'm hopeless at cards, except for Blackjack. Fortunately, no-one else seemed to mind what we played, so I had my way for a while.
Of course, when eventually I wound up with a large stack of matchsticks, Emmy decided I'd won for long enough.
"Time for change: we can't have you win all night. Andy, choose something else, then Mel can decide next time."
"He'll sulk if he loses at cards for the rest of the night," warned Andrew, a wingman on whom I can always rely.
"I won't: besides, it'll take you all night to win these sticks back," I taunted, "even if you do pick something atrocious."
"Doesn't have to be cards," pointed out Mel. Nonetheless, Andrew chose some awful poker variant (they all blend into one for me). Inevitably, I had to have the rules explained ("Again," pointed out Andrew), and struggled inwardly to remember which combinations of cards actually meant anything.
My pile of matchsticks was got woefully low, as they moved to rest in front of my friends—mostly, in fact, in front of Mel, who has an immaculate poker face. Keeping pace with my cache's reduction was the level of wine left in the second bottle, which I thought correlated with Emmy's giggling at my losses.
In the end, it came down to a heavily wagered hand between Andrew and Mel; I'd long since dropped out, when Mel forced a big raise. Emmy didn't like the look of it, but Andrew called her. Called her wrongly, though, and lost all his reserves.
"Pah," he begrudged, pushing the stack over to Mel, who smiled angelically back at him. "I'll get another bottle?"
"Please," replied Emmy, "You know where they are."
Andrew wandered off to the kitchen, while I got up to stretch my legs.
"That makes it my turn to choose, doesn't it?" remarked Mel.
"Yup," grinned Emmy, "What'll it be?"
Mel went decisively to the drawers from earlier, and pulled out a folded sheet. I eyed it suspiciously.
"You really think we've drunk enough for that? We're not in university any more," I pointed out.
Emmy, however, had come across to sit on my lap, and grinned at me, "Go on, it'll be fun."
My reply was interrupted by her mouth coming down on mine, green eyes laughing at me.
"Twister? You're kidding, Mel...Chris, what brought that on?" asked Andrew, coming back with the promised bottle.
I detached my girlfriend, slightly reluctantly; she didn't go anywhere, though, and just started kissing my neck.
"She did, honest, officer," I joked, "And I fear Mel might be for real."
"Oh, definitely," she said, "though you might want another drink."
And with that, she surprised me; shocked me, almost. She came up to Andrew, stood on tip toes to reach, and planted a passionate kiss on him. He's tall: taller than me, and I'm 6', and bigger to boot. I smiled the first time I saw Mel and him together, because she's tiny: about 5'2", and really slightly built, and the contrast is so striking.
That's not what surprised me, though.
As she kissed him, her hands reached down to the hem of her dress, and she pulled it up, over her head, breaking off the kiss only briefly before reaching for his face again. Then her hands moved one of his to her backside, while the other went to the back of her neck.
Mel, standing there in her bra and panties: that's what surprised me. It must have been obvious, too, to Emmy, still buried in my neck, as she giggled gently.
"Well, it's impolite to leave you alone like that, Mel," she chided, and started unbuttoning her blouse.
Frankly, I didn't know where to look, given the options. The rapidly disrobing girl on my lap, smiling widely at me, probably had the bulk of my attention, but I spared the odd glance for Mel. Still kissing Andrew deeply, her hands were working hard at untucking and undoing his shirt, while his hands roved greedily. Like I said, she's a slight girl, though of course I'd never seen her quite like this. Small breasts, a slender waist, a pert bottom: her lacy red underwear was a bright contrast to her skin.
For all that, Emmy was doing an excellent job of occupying my attention, as she shrugged off her blouse, and dropped it behind her on the floor. With a white lacy bra inches in front of my face, I leant in and kissed the tops of her breasts, my hands sneaking up under her short skirt to hold her.
Time slowed, and I enjoyed the moment, while Emmy's practised hands slid into my shirt and I kissed her again.
"No, not yet," I heard Mel say, and I looked across as she pulled his hand from the clasp of her bra. She skipped away from him, still grinning, and fetched his glass.
"Right: I was serious, my choice is Twister, but Emmy has...adjusted the rules."
"I'm sure you'll like them," smiled Emmy, standing back up, and fiddling with the buckle to her skirt. Dropping that to the floor, she moved to help Mel spread the sheet.
Andrew and I exchanged a glance: my eyebrow raising, his wiggled in comical response. Neither of us knew this was coming, that was clear. I watched Emmy's white clad buttocks, as Mel brought me my freshly refilled glass, enjoying the sight. She's slender, though not as slight as Mel: breasts that are more like a handful-sized, and they were beautiful in the low cut bra from which her nipples threatened to break free. Her white trunk panties left much more to the imagination, though, than Mel's thong, which I found myself mesmerized by. I'd only really been able to see Mel from behind as she toyed with Andrew, and though that had given me a prize view of taut behind, the scantiness of the lingerie was only clear as she came towards me, glass in hand.
The lace mesh of the bra allowed the dark aureole of each breast to show through the fabric, which was tight against her swollen nipples. The small V of the thong was only a rudimentary covering of her pussy, which is really what had mesmerized me. I realized, a little too late, that I was staring, and dragged my gaze upwards to her face, as my face reddened and she handed me the drink, laughing.
"Prop your jaw up, Chris," she said over her shoulder as she went back to Andrew. I swear she let her hips sway a bit more on the way.
Emmy, by now, was all business, having sorted out her invention: sixteen squares, stitched seemingly randomly on a sheet, in four colours, and what looked like a heavily appended spinner.
"When you've quite finished eyeing up my best friend, Chris, and if you can drag your attention from her tits for just a minute, Andrew, I shall explain. I've added a few locations," she went on, walking over to me, "to the dial, so you'll need to pay attention."
"But first, you really do need to lose those trousers."
With that, she finished unhooking my belt, and let my trousers dropped while she pulled my shirt off my shoulders. Glancing across as I tugged off my socks, I saw Andy being divested of his clothes, too, and then Mel went across to the dial, spun it, and watched where it fell, before spinning it again.
"Ok, boys: left foot blue, right foot green," she directed. Andrew and I approached the sheet, with only mild trepidation, and stood as instructed.
"Mel: left foot green, right hand red," as she did the same. Emmy wound up behind me, arse in the air, as she reached down to put her hand on the ground. Andy, with Mel in front of him, had a much better view of her butt, poised in front of his crotch, as she grinned up at him under her arm.
Reaching out and spinning the dial, Emmy directed us again.
"Boys, put your left hand on blue and right hand red; Mel, our right foot green and left hand red," as she contorted to obey. I had to look up, because Mel broke out giggling. Emmy wasn't in too bad a shape, crouched over in a corner of the sheet, but Mel had to bend backwards to get her feet on green, and her left hand on red. Legs apart, her pelvis was up in the air, and her head was nearer the ground, between Andy's legs.
