New Year's Revelation

It had been a good New Year’s party – in one of the other flats in the block where we lived – but, at about three in the morning, the whisky had caught up on me, and my wife Janet and Hugh, my pal from work, had helped me upstairs, where I collapsed on our bed and closed my eyes …

I was just drifting off when I heard Janet giggle, and something arrested my tiredness.

"Doesn't he look sweet?" she chuckled. I opened my eyes.

The room was dark, but I could see Janet and Hugh in the open doorway, and I was about to swing my legs off the bed when Hugh said - "Do I get my proper New Year kiss, now, then?"

I lay very still.

"Not here, Hugh," whispered my wife, and through my half-closed eyelids, I saw Hugh put his arm round Janet's waist and guide her away from the door.

I heard three or four footsteps, then they stopped. They must have been halfway along the hall. There was almost total silence, then I faintly heard Hugh say "Happy New Year, Jan."

"Happy New Year, Hugh" came her whispered reply, then silence fell again...

Then I heard Janet whisper - "You'll have to go now!"

"Why?" replied Hugh.

"Well, Pete's in there and...."

"He's out to the world," said Hugh.

"I know, but..."

"...anyway, what about my coffee?"

"O.K., then," said Janet, "but just one coffee and then you're on your way."

The footsteps receded and I gently lowered myself off the bed, a welter of mixed emotions. As I slipped my shoes off, the hall light went out, and I heard the chink of cups in the kitchen.

Janet laughed, softly. "Hugh, no - you mustn't!"

"Oh, come on, Janet - you know I've always fancied you!"

"Oh, I know that, Hugh MacArthur," she retorted. "I've seen the way you look at me!"

"What do you mean?" laughed Hugh.

"Well, it's like you're...looking through my clothes, to see what's underneath!"

"And do you object to that?" murmured Hugh. There was a short silence, then Janet replied - "Usually, yes, but, sometimes..."

"Sometimes, it's not so bad, eh?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Sometimes, it's a ... nice feeling."

"What about now?" he muttered. There was a short silence, then Janet said, briskly, "I'm enjoying it far too much! Now, come on next door and have your coffee, then you're off to your party and I'm off to bed."

"Alone?" asked Hugh, with a laugh.

"Yes," she replied, firmly. "Unless Pete wakes up - he was pretty interested half an hour ago."

Carrying a tray, she came out of the kitchen, followed by Hugh, who turned off the kitchen light. The hall was now in darkness and I crept along to the kitchen, which was illuminated only by the light shining through the frosted glass door of the serving-hatch.

The door was fractionally open, and I quickly slid it along two or three inches. Looking through, I could see Hugh on the settee, and a rear view of Janet stooping over the coffee table, pouring the coffee. Her bottom is one of her best features, and it looked particularly enticing in her short red skirt, at that moment, under these circumstances.

I still didn't know what I was going to do - part of me wanted to "wake up" and walk into the lounge, to stop anything else that might happen, but a darker side wanted the thrill of playing Peeping Tom on my own wife.

For the moment, I just watched, and listened, but my heart was thumping with excitement and I knew, deep down, I was hoping that something else would happen.

"So you knew he was interested?" said Tom. "How did you know?"

"The way any girl knows, when she's dancing with a man," answered Janet, smiling.

She sat down on the settee, beside Hugh.

"Mind you," she added, "I wouldn't put money on what started him off. It could have been that little tart, Karen, flaunting herself all over the place - or even her mother! Pete had a funny expression on his face when he was dancing with her, early on."

"Was that what annoyed you?" asked Hugh.

"Who said I was annoyed?" laughed Janet, not very convincingly.

"Nobody," replied Hugh. "I just worked it out when I saw the way you were dancing with that guy, Charlie. You were making a point, weren't you?"

"Yes," she confessed. "But I think it was lost on Pete."

"Was Charlie...interested, as well?" asked Hugh.

"You mean...like Pete was...and you?"

"Oh, you noticed that, as well?"

"Oh, yes... Anyway, yes, Charlie was 'interested', but he always is. He lives in the flat above and I've had to fight him off, once or twice."

This was a shock to me and, strangely enough, really annoyed me,

"You always do fight him off, do you?" enquired Hugh.

"Well, yes," she answered, hesitantly.

"Always?"

"Well, there was one time," she said, "but it wasn't what you think. Look, I shouldn't tell you this - you won't tell Pete, will you?" Hugh shook his head - and I knew he wouldn't!

"Well, one evening, when Pete was out, I had a bath and was in my dressing-gown when Charlie came in to borrow something - sugar, or milk, or something."

"And?"

"Well, when I bent down to get it out of the fridge - it must have been milk - my dressing-gown opened a bit and he put his hand in and felt me - on my... breast."

My penis had stiffened and my mouth was dry, as I listened.

"What did you do?"

"Well, there wasn't much I could do. I stood up, but he sort of pinned me against the fridge and ... pulled my dressing gown open, so that he could see. Then he put both hands on my breasts and squeezed them."

"And then what?"

"Then he stood back again, to have another look, and I managed to pull my dressing-gown together and persuaded him to go."

"And how did you feel - after?"

"Well, I was angry, and a bit frightened, but...." she hesitated.

"But?" prompted Hugh.

"Well, when he pulled my dressing-gown open and ... just looked at me, I could have covered myself with my hands, but ... I didn't."

"You enjoyed it? Him seeing you - like that?"

"I really don't know. I knew I should have covered myself, but - well, it was quite exciting, and it wasn't until he tried to feel them again that I pushed him off."

"Lucky old Charlie!” said Hugh, ironically. "How did you feel - afterwards?"

"Oh, I was really shaky, and sort of frightened, at first, and I nearly told Pete, when he came in, but I didn't, and later on, when I was lying in bed, I recalled the expression on Charlie's face when he opened my dressing-gown and it made me excited all over again."

"What did you do - then?" asked Hugh. I saw his tongue run round his lips as he spoke, and realised they were as dry as mine, as we both imagined what we thought Janet might have done, lying in bed and thinking about Charlie feasting his eyes on her uncovered breasts.

But Janet just laughed, and shook her head, her eyes downcast.

Wisely, I thought, Hugh moved on to another tack.

"What did you make of the striptease to-night?" he asked, with an attempt at nonchalance. "You know, that girl - what did you call her? - Karen?"

"Oh, they're a pair - her “’and“’ her mother. Drop their knickers at the drop of a hat!” Janet expostulated, then laughed at the smile on Hugh's face. Emboldened by her laugh, he grinned and said - "Nice pair of tits, though."

"She's nothing special," muttered Janet, but hesitantly, as though she could see how this conversation would inevitably develop, and my scrotum tightened and my mouth dried again as I followed Hugh's line of thought.

He was sitting forward on the settee, cradling his coffee mug in his cupped hands, and, as I watched him, he turned and looked at Janet, thoughtfully. I watched his eyes slide down from her face to the twin mounds in her white blouse, then down to her knees and lower thighs, revealed by her short skirt.

Janet's fingers tightened perceptibly round her coffee mug, and she hunched her shoulders to reduce the outline of her breasts against her blouse.

"Don't do that, Hugh," she murmured, her eyes fixed on his face.

He leaned forward slightly and put his mug carefully down on the table, then leaned back, confidently, his eyes still sliding over her blouse.

"I enjoyed our dance," he said. Janet dropped her eyes, and didn't speak. Her cheeks were burning and her knees were pressed close together.

"Did you let Charlie touch your breasts, when you danced with him?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Did he try?"

"He always does!"

"Do you ever let him?"

"Just a couple of times, but not for long."

"As long as you let me touch them for - to-night?"

"No," she murmured, shaking her head, her eyes still downcast.

"You liked me - touching them?"

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, then breathed - "Yes." She darted a glance at Hugh, then took a mouthful of coffee.

"Can I touch them again?" Hugh asked, his tongue running round his lips. His eyes were bright, his breathing short and jerky.

Janet looked down again, then reached out and carefully placed her mug on the low table. Then she sat back in the corner of the settee, her hands in her lap. She looked across at Hugh, her face still flushed, then, like him, wet her lips with her tongue.

Hugh leaned across and, cupping her face in his hands, kissed her gently on her full lips. Her mouth opened and her hands came up and rested on his shoulders.

Hugh shifted on the settee until he was sitting beside her, then his right hand dropped from her face and gently closed on the swelling on the left side of her yellow blouse.

He squeezed her breast and her fingers tightened on his shoulders. She turned her body a little towards him and her arms went right round him, pulling him towards her. Their mouths stayed locked in a deep kiss and Hugh deftly unfastened one of the buttons on her blouse and slipped his hand inside.

Janet's left hand went up into his hair and pulled his mouth harder down on hers. Her eyes were closed and, gradually, she was slipping down the settee so that she was practically underneath him.

Still kissing her enthusiastically, Hugh had now freed both his hands and was working his way down the front of Janet's blouse, undoing her buttons, one by one. As I watched, transfixed, he pulled the bottom of her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt, and undid the final button. His mouth still locked on hers, he grasped the lapels and eased the blouse back over her shoulders and down her arms.

She loosened her hands from his hair to help him, and he pulled the sleeves off then eased her blouse completely away from her skirt and dropped it over the edge of the settee. Then he sat back and looked at Janet, now wearing only her lacy white bra above the waist.

Her eyes dropped down to her visible cleavage, then, her face pink, she raised them to meet his and murmured "Well?"

"Take it off," he breathed. Her eyes widened momentarily, then a strange expression flitted over her face. With a shock, I recognised it as the one I had seen occasionally when Janet had taken a - rare - initiative in our lovemaking. It only happened when she was really aroused and was about to do something she considered really wanton and daring.

The last time I had seen it was when, during a really randy session on a one-night stopover in a hotel in Birmingham, she had suddenly gone over to the window and stood, stark naked, looking up at the block of flats opposite. The room was on the fourth floor of a very large hotel, but it was still quite early, and there were still lights on in most of the flats. She lifted her arms, placing her hands flat on the window, and held her pose for a good two minutes.

At last, she turned away, with that look on her face - it was a sly sort of a grin, holding a hint of triumph. She came back to the bed and straddled me, easing herself down on my prick, and she was as wet as hell. While I fucked her, she told me several men had spotted her and had stood at their windows, watching her. She eventually climaxed, noisily, as she began to describe how a black man had put his hand down inside his trousers.......................

I was breathless with excitement as the same sly, secretive smile flitted over her face and her arms went up behind her back. Deftly, she undid the clips, and pulled the straps of her bra off her shoulders, holding the cups in place over her breasts.

Then she dropped the bra on the floor and locked her arms behind her neck, her breasts standing naked and proud, her nipples thick and brown and rigid. She half-closed her eyes, then opened them again as Hugh's hands gently cupped her breasts, rolling her erect nipples skilfully in his fingers. Her head leant back with a gentle sigh, which changed, suddenly, to a gasp as his tongue teased her left nipple.

Her hand gripped the back of his head and she pushed his mouth down on her breast. His hand closed convulsively round her other breast and squeezed it passionately and she gasped again, burying her face in his hair.

My mouth was dry and my cock was like a pole as I watched them through the small opening.

Janet was writhing underneath Hugh as his mouth greedily sucked on her distended nipple and his hand subjected her other breast to a rough mauling. She threw her head back again, her mouth wide open as her breath shuddered in and out.

Then, with a shock, I saw Hugh's hand leave her breast and probe urgently under her short red skirt. She opened her legs to accommodate him and he pushed the skirt up, so that her stocking-tops and bare upper thighs were uncovered. She arched her back and his fingers pressed against the gusset of her panties. Little tendrils of damp, brown pubic hair escaped the sides of Janet's panties and I watched, a welter of mixed emotions, as Hugh's middle finger pushed the material aside and slid into her ............

Janet groaned ecstatically and, suddenly I knew I had to end this before it went too far. Tearing myself away from the hatch, I rushed down the hall into the bathroom and pulled the cistern. The sound of rushing water filled the bathroom and, I hoped, the flat.

I closed the door quietly and filled the basin with cold water. My hands shaking with excitement, I scooped up a handful and splashed it on my face and neck. Then I leant on the basin and listened intently. With intense relief, I heard footsteps in the hall, then the front door opened and closed.

Hesitant footsteps approached the bathroom door, then Janet knocked, lightly, and called out "Are you all right?" "Yes, I'm fine," I replied, trying to slow down my racing pulses - and quell the tumescent bulge in my trousers. Taking a deep breath, I crossed to the door and opened it.

Janet's blouse was tucked neatly into the waistband of her skirt, and buttoned all the way up the front, and I was amazed to see that her bra was in place. I thought she couldn't possibly have had time to get it back on again. She looked flushed and her hair was a little out of place but, if I hadn't seen what had happened, I'd never have suspected a thing.

A sudden image of how she removed it, for Hugh, flashed across my mind and a surge of lust gripped me again. I put my arms round her and pulled her towards me. She wriggled a little, seeming reluctant, and, as my hands came up her back, I realised why.

Her bra was not fastened at the back.

Again, my cock jumped, and she felt it press against her belly. She laughed, and slipped a hand down between us to take hold it through my trousers.

"Were Karen's tits that good, then?" she chuckled.

"No," I replied, into her hair. "Actually, it was yours that got me like this."

There was a short silence, while she tried to work out what I meant, then she lifted her head and kissed me on the mouth. Her arms went round my neck and her body pressed against mine. Her tongue slithered wetly between my teeth, and I clasped her bottom to me.

"Charlie did that to me, to-night," she breathed in my ear.

"What? Did what?"

"Pulled my tummy onto his cock..."

"Was he hard?” I asked, my mouth dry.

"Yes. Very."

"Was he holding your bum?"

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy it?"

She hesitated. "A bit," she confessed, "but then he tried to feel my... my tits. My breasts."

"Did you let him?" I breathed, but she shook her head.

We kissed silently for a while, and I tried to think how to develop this conversation for my own entertainment. I desperately wanted her to tell me about Charlie and Hugh feeling her breasts - to describe how it happened, and how she felt - but I didn't want to upset her into a denial and a refusal to discuss it any further. Nor did I want it to become an inquisition, with me as the outraged husband and her as the defendant. I wanted it to be part of our lovemaking - a celebration of the excitement we had both experienced as Hugh penetrated her defences.

"Maybe Karen's little show got him going, then?" I suggested.

"I doubt it," replied Janet, with an edge to her voice. "He's been screwing her - and her mother! - since “’last“’ New Year."

This was news to me, but I spotted a possible opening.

"Oh, he gets around then, does he?" I commented.

"Oh, he's very popular round here!"

"Round here?" I said, meaningfully.

"In the block," she said, hurriedly.

"So - not with you!" I challenged, and she shook her head again. I couldn't think how do to develop the conversation.

Then, without thinking, I took a complete flier and said - "I saw him feel your tits once, at a party." Janet stiffened in my arms, and went very quiet. My heart sinking, I cursed myself for my tactlessness, even as, unbidden, a picture of Charlie pulling Janet's dressing-gown apart in our kitchen flashed into my mind and my cock reared up again.

Janet leaned back in my arms and looked up at me, a puzzled frown on her face. "Why did you get hard again just now?" she asked. I shrugged, sheepishly, and the light of understanding dawned in her eyes.

"Does it excite you?" she asked. My throat clogged up and my eyes slid away from hers. Her hand slid between us and touched my swollen penis. "Pete!" she exclaimed. "You haven't been that hard for ages!"

Then her mouth reached up and she kissed me, pushing her wet tongue between my lips. We kissed for a long time, then she broke it off and said - "Would you like to hear about it?" I hesitated, then nodded, still unable to meet her eyes.

Taking my hand, she led me into the lounge, and pulled me down onto the settee beside her. "Why did you never ask before, Pete?" she asked me, and went on - "I thought you'd be mad at me. I've had terrible consciences at some of these parties, but, once I've had a few drinks and I'm dancing with someone I like, I find it very difficult to stop them. I've always been like that - you remember what I was like with you?"

I did remember. I remembered unclipping her bra-strap outside her back garden gate, after only our second date, and the incredible feel of her soft warm breasts falling into my hands. But it had been a long time before I had got any further, and I had always assumed that I had got that far so early because she had realised she was falling in love with me, as I was with her . . . . .

"I've always loved having them felt," she murmured. "Ever since they began to grow."

"Tell me about Charlie at the party," I muttered, gathering her in my arms, and she laughed, nervously. "Are you sure?" she whispered. "You won't get mad?"

I looked down at her, and shook my head, solemnly. Then her 'look' began to spread across her face again. "I should have guessed - after that time in Birmingham, when I told you about that black man, watching me at the window, but I was so turned on myself . . .. "

My hand clasped her left breast, through her loose bra, and she shivered.

"I never told you this," she started, "but one Saturday morning, when Charlie came to borrow some milk, I was only wearing a dressing-gown and, when I bent down to get the milk out of the fridge, it opened at the front, and Charlie . . .. well, Charlie saw down it."