As Mary raced, coat flapping behind her, towards the back gate, I took off after her. I caught her as she was trying to flick up the latch on the gate, and grabbed her wrists. I pulled her arms wide apart. There was a street lamp on the other side of the lane and, in its soft yellow light, Mary's naked tits were clearly visible, her nipples dark organ stops on the twin mounds of firm flesh.
"Charlie!" she whispered, urgently, protestingly. "Stop that – somebody'll see!"
"Like that lucky old sod with his dog?" I laughed, but then I threw my arms round her and hugged her, fiercely. We kissed, long and deep, then I pushed the gate open and we went up the short path to the back door, my left arm round her shoulders, my right hand, naturally, playing with her exposed breasts.
I desperately wanted to get her into the empty house, and to get the rest of her clothes off. And, deep down, although I wasn't really admitting it to myself yet, I wanted to get her to talk about what had happened with Billy – tonight, and at the beach barbecue last summer. Again, my mouth dried, and my balls tightened, as I thought about Billy – and Tom – uncovering Mary's tits, and feeling them ...
Mary opened the back door, and we groped our way through the darkened kitchen. Mary clicked on the light in the hall and, with one movement, shrugged her coat, blouse and bra off her shoulders. They fell in a heap on the parquet floor and Mary slid her hands up the front of her body and cupped her breasts, offering them to me.
"Is this what you want, Charlie?" A smile danced across her lips, but it was as lascivious as it was amused. Her tongue peeped out from between her teeth, wetting her lips. Her thighs, in her tight short skirt, were clamped together, and I imagined the moist dampness seeping into her panties. Inevitably, I thought to myself that this wasn't the first time she had been wet 'down there' tonight, and I wondered if, when my lips teased her tight, hard nipples, she would be imagining Billy's mouth – Billy's tongue ...
Like a moth to the flame, I was advancing on Mary, hands outstretched to accept her offered breasts, when the flash of headlamps illuminated the glass-panelled front door. I stopped dead. It had to be somebody coming up our drive.
"Who the hell's that?" I exclaimed, and a look of almost comic distress appeared on Mary's face.
"Oh, shit!" she said, bending to grab her clothes off the floor. "It's Sheila and Billy – I asked them round for a drink – I'm sorry, Charlie ... "
By now, she was halfway up the stairs.
"You let them in, while I get decent – please, Charlie!" – and the bathroom door slammed shut!
I couldn't remember the last time I was so disappointed – and frustrated. I was actually shaking with a mixture of desire and rage and disappointment when there was a soft knock at the door. Trying to compose myself, I went to answer it.
"Hi, Charlie," said Sheila, breezily, as I opened the door. I tried to smile as she stepped past me into the hall, but without much success. Billy looked a little ill-at-ease as he followed her – perhaps not too surprising, in view of our earlier conversation.
I helped Sheila take her coat off and, as she shrugged herself out of it, I couldn't help glancing at the small bulges in her red blouse. They certainly didn't look like "floppy puppies" to me, I thought, sourly – more like hibernating hamsters! I knew that, whatever happened now, I had 'lost the moment' with Mary and, even if we did fuck after Billy and Sheila had gone, it wouldn't be as good as it had been going to be, two minutes ago.
Mary came tripping down the stairs, fully dressed – and looking, I thought, utterly fuckable!
"Hi, Sheila! Hi, Billy!" she sang out. "We're just back – good party, wasn't it?"
She led the way into the lounge and I uncorked a bottle of wine. Sheila said she was driving, and I poured her a soft drink. Billy and I sat on armchairs either side of the coal-effect gas fire, while the girls sat together on the settee. The girls did most of the talking, while Billy and I seemed to want to avoid each other's eyes.
It was strange how our conversation was affecting me, now – now that Billy and Mary were in the same room. It was as though I could read Billy's mind and whereas, two hours ago, I might have caught him glancing at her and assumed he was thinking - 'I wonder what Mary's tits look like under that blouse' – I could now imagine his thoughts, remembering, not only the feel, but the sight, of her naked breasts in his hands. Part of me was angry at the thought – but another, darker, part was most definitely aroused.
In an attempt to distract myself, I sneaked another glance at Sheila, and tried to visualise her little breasts, uncovered. Billy had admitted that she had had them felt by other men – probably one or two that I knew. I wondered who they were – probably Tom, I thought, and maybe Alvin. She always spent a bit of time with Alvin at these parties.
My erection, which had subsided, was beginning to stir again. Sheila wasn't bad-looking, I thought. She was a bit on the skinny side for my tastes, but she had a nice wide mouth and, like most men, I do have a 'thing' about blondes. Her legs were shapely – her calves slim, but the thighs which were partially revealed by her short skirt were lean and strong. I imagined them wrapped round my waist ...
My glass was empty and I stood up to fetch the bottle. I took it over to Mary and she held out her glass. As I finished pouring, I caught Sheila's eye.
"Well, Charlie," she said, quietly. "What do you think, now you've had a chance to think it over?"
I stood stock still, my mind racing. Behind me, I could feel Billy tense up. I looked down at Mary – she was staring at Sheila, in genuine puzzlement.
When no-one else said anything, it was Mary who spoke.
"Think what over?" she said, her voice curious, but not concerned.
Sheila draped an arm affectionately around Mary's shoulders.
"Billy told Charlie about you letting him feel your tits tonight. And then he told me – sorry!" she said.
Mary looked up at me with such a tragic expression that I had to sit on the arm of the settee and put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," I said – although I couldn't think what I was apologising for. "I was going to talk to you about it later."
"No, I'm sorry, Charlie," she said. "It was … just ... " her voice trailed away, and she glanced at Billy. Sheila got up and went over to Billy, sitting on his lap, her left arm draped round his neck. I slid down beside Mary. I put my arm round her shoulders. I lifted her chin and kissed her mouth.
"Look," I said to her, softly. "It's OK. Billy and I had a talk and - well, we sorted it out. I understand. I ... "
I ran out of words – I couldn't tell her what I really thought – not with Billy and Sheila there. Then I saw Mary's eyes widen as she looked across the room, and I followed her gaze. Sheila's head was down, kissing Billy – and his hand was inside her red blouse. It only had two front buttons undone, but I could see enough to tell Sheila wasn't wearing a bra and Billy's hand was slowly caressing her left breast.
Sheila lifted her head, and grinned at Mary. "Come on, Mary," she said. "It won't be the first time we've had our tits felt in the same room!"
Suddenly, Mary pulled my head towards her and she kissed me, fiercely, her tongue forcing its way through my lips. Grabbing my wrist, she pulled my hand up and onto her breast. Her lips mashed against mine and her breathing was wild and jerky. Her hands were busy at the buttons of her blouse and, when they were free, she reached up her back to fiddle with her bra-strap.
But I was ahead of her. My cock like a pole, I remembered what she had forgotten – and snapped open her front-fastening bra. I felt it drop away, and closed my hand over a beautiful naked breast. I squeezed it hard, and Mary moaned, and shuddered. I felt for her nipple – it was rock-hard, and I rasped my thumb over it.
Suddenly, I remembered Billy and Sheila – and my first instinctive thought was to move my arm so that Billy could see Mary's other exposed breast. My second was to see how far Billy had got with Sheila.
They were no longer on the chair. They were lying on the lambswool rug in front of the fire. Billy was still fully clothed, but Sheila's blouse was lying on the arm of the chair. She was on her back, her neck crooked in Billy's arm, while Billy kissed her and, in full view of us, ran his hands over her smallish - but larger than I had thought - firm breasts.
I returned my attention to Mary and, still frantically feeling her tits, pushed her blouse and bra back over her shoulders, and off her arms. I needed two hands to finish the job and she sat up to help me. Naked to the waist, she was stunning, and I couldn't help looking round to see if Billy was looking. Of course, he was, and Mary saw him looking, too.
As her upper clothing disappeared, she slid her hips off the settee and pulled me with her, down on to the rug. She lay down beside Mary, but with her head by Mary's feet, and reached up for me again, pulling my mouth down on to her nipple. I imagined what Billy must be thinking, as I closed my lips round the erect hardness, and pressed my erect cock against Mary's thigh.
Mary moaned, deep in her throat, then moaned again – and again. Her thigh was jerking against my cock. Twisting my head, I saw the reason. It wasn't just me – Billy's hand was up inside Mary's skirt and I could see the backs of his fingers working against the tight material. I was beyond reason, now. I reached down and pulled her skirt up at the front – I had to see.
