As I watched Patrick while he and I put our clothes back on for the party downstairs, I thought of how much had changed in my life since I met Edmund. Or rather since Edmund swept me off my feet.
I had been a naive girl next door type. Still a virgin and proud of it, at 25. Although people said I was pretty, even beautiful, with my long neck, alabaster skin, big blue eyes and dimples, I never thought much of it. I was tall and slender, but I was aware that my chest was almost flat and, growing up in California, I stood out as the girl who never had a tan. I had a nice tight flat belly and my butt was high and firm, but I was too skinny.
A more worldly roommate, Chey and I worked in the same office when a new guy was hired. Edmund was not a matinee idol, but he had a nice smile and a friendly easy going style. He was nice to me and, as I realized only much later, began flirting with me almost immediately. He asked me out only a few weeks after we met, but I declined.
I kept a little distance between us because he was a little older than I found attractive, and he was going through a divorce.
Now, as I watched Patrick's back muscles work as he prepared his shirt for donning, I smiled to myself. This young man, the first, but hopefully not the last of my extramarital lovers, had brought me to the pinnacle of pleasure. As I dabbed a scented tissue at the still seeping slit of my love box, I closed my eyes and replayed the scene of his lovely manhood as it pistoned excruciatingly, deliciously in and out of me. I replayed the rippling of the muscles of his shoulders and his stomach as our juices mixed inside me.
Of course he smelled good, and so did I. But he tasted even better than I thought he would.
Patrick and I had been dancing and he boldly played his hand along the line of my butt crack. My scandalously short lycra "flirt skirt" molded itself to my figure to the extent that I couldn't wear even a g-string or a thong under it. Or so Edmund told me. Patrick whispered in my ear that he liked women who didn't wear underwear. I think the champagne was affecting me. I just smiled and snuggled my head into the crook of his neck.
My arms were draped over his shoulders as we slow danced and I could feel his thigh pressing itself between my legs as we shuffled in the small space. The top I was wearing was basically a large scarf, backless, clasped behind my neck and draped to cover my boobs. With my arms up like this, the very bottoms of my breasts were slightly exposed. Of course, I couldn't wear a bra under that top. One of his hands caressed my back.
"I'm glad Edmund allowed me to borrow you for this party." He whispered in my ear. "But I was a little surprised since I made it pretty clear that Chad's parties tend to turn wild."
"Oh, Edmund didn't tell me that. He just said it would be a party in Reston and that I should have a great time." I wondered what Edmund had in mind when he said that I should treat Patrick as I would treat him, but I knew he had very liberal views about promiscuity and fidelity, and I suspected he meant exactly what it sounded like. He had made comments and suggestions about sexual freedom ever since we started dating, so I figured that he was just raising the ante a little by putting me in this situation with Patrick.
We danced several slow dances and I had champagne between each one. I'm afraid that by the time the small band was packing up, I was feeling no pain.
The party had thinned out to about a dozen couples when Patrick suggested that we go inside and check out the house. In no time at all, we were kissing and I could feel his hands cupping my breasts as he kneaded them and stimulated my nipples. When he lifted my top and began licking, I gave no resistance.
When he lifted my skirt he made a little face. He played his fingers along my slit and fingered the small closely trimmed patch of hair I maintained down there. "I'll lick it if you let me shave it clean." He smiled. I was a little taken aback, since it seemed such a personal demand. After just a second, his finger probed inside, as if magically drawn to my g-spot. He drove me wild. Soon he stood, withdrew his finger and made me feel totally empty. Then he went to a bathroom and quickly returned with a razor, a dab of shaving cream and a damp cloth.
I just laid back and let him do it. I didn't want to watch. When he was done, he began licking and kissing my slit, tonguing my clitoris and once again, drove me wild and filled me with lust. All inhibitions were abandoned. I came twice on his tongue. I didn't see stars, but I saw rockets and I could hardly breathe as he fucked me with his tongue and his fingers.
