Lisa and I played on opposing teams in the first game while our spouses stood on the sidelines by Greg's desk. I don't think I ever learned the name of my teammate or Lisa's. Thankfully we were shooting better than I was earlier with Mark, Cindy, and Brian, so the game moved along.
I paid attention to the game at hand, but maintained a general awareness of Greg and Melissa, seldom allowing them out of my field of vision. They exchanged a lot of quiet comments and smiles as they stood there. At one point I saw that Greg had his arms crossed, and a moment later Melissa ducked to her side, away from him, and giggled. My guess was that he was playing the childish game of poking her with a finger from behind the opposite arm, so that no one could see what had happened. After that, Melissa crossed her arms, too, and soon enough it was Greg's turn to pull away from Melissa. She had poked him in his ribs.
Greg's friendly outpouring of feelings in the kitchen minutes ago, seemingly genuine, had mostly set my mind at ease with regard to the two of them. But there in the study, with them standing shoulder to shoulder and acting so playfully toward one another, an unsettling feeling descended upon me once more.
Then Melissa reached for her cup and raised it up to suggest Greg join her in a drink, causing Greg to reach for his cup and raise it up to accept. As he drank, she pushed the bottom of his cup upward, forcing him to gulp down more than he wanted. Those who saw it had a good laugh, and so did Melissa. Greg didn't think it was funny at first, but the laughter won him over, bringing a smile to his face.
"I'm already fucked up enough," I heard him say.
Melissa looked across the room to me and winked, and then I felt at ease again. She still had her eye on the prize, I decided. Melissa's eyes watched Lisa make her way around the pool table. I watched Lisa, too, thinking that I hadn't paid much attention to her all night. I had been too distracted by my wife's flirtations with Greg. As Lisa walked away from my side of the table, I dared to overtly watch her cute little ass beneath the white linen that flowed from her hips, knowing that Melissa probably saw me looking. From Lisa's ass, my gaze returned to Melissa's eyes, and sure enough, she was looking right back at me with a knowing smile. She raised her cup in my direction, and I raised mine to hers, and across the room from one another, we shared a toast to Lisa's cute little ass.
Over the course of a couple more games, Melissa, Lisa, Greg, and I all mixed with the other guests freely. Everyone was drunk, so all inhibitions were gone and names didn't matter anymore. We were all friends from the start. Melissa hung on Brian for a while. Literally hung on him. He is a few inches shorter than her, and she put her arm over his shoulder like a little brother, and the two of them engaged in a long conversation about something they both thought was really deep. I overheard her thanking him several times for the brownie, and at least once she said that she'll remember him forever. Seeing them side by side, I couldn't help but note that her eyes had become squinted like Brian's. That second brownie had definitely kicked in. She was really high. Thankfully there were no more bouts of motion sickness.
Later I couldn't help but laugh at Melissa because she hugged both Mark and Cindy several times while she was talking to them. I couldn't imagine what they could have said to make her feel that way.
It was much less funny to me, though, when she walked up to Greg and gave him an unsolicited hug, holding him tight and resting her head on his shoulder. When she lifted her head and peeled away to stand beside him and face the pool table again, each kept one arm around the other. Greg was plastered by that time, so his eyes certainly did not see that I was observing the two of them from across the room, and his mind probably gave me no thought. His hand remained at Melissa's waist for a few seconds after the hug, but then it plainly dropped lower and out of my sight, only to reappear at her waist again a second later. The movement didn't appear to even register with Melissa. Seconds later, Greg's hand slid out of view again, but this time it did not reappear. Not long after that, I detected some movement at Melissa's shoulder, indicating to me that she was rubbing Greg's back with her out-of-sight hand. She took a sip of her drink with the other hand without interrupting that back rub, and Greg took a sip of his drink at the same time, absentmindedly following her cue. Melissa set her cup aside, but was careful to keep herself abreast of Greg as she did it, immediately resuming the backrub afterward.
Without facing each other, the two of them exchanged a few words. Little comments on whatever, the results of which brought short-lived smiles to their faces. Melissa's face turned to Greg's to say some more words, which probably composed a question, and Greg's words, which probably composed an answer, gave Melissa a laugh. The laugh pulled Melissa's torso and far shoulder toward Greg, and it pulled Melissa's free hand to his chest in a playful slap, as if to scold him for saying something inappropriate. But that hand lingered, and then it rubbed lightly back and forth across Greg's chest, as if to apologize for initially approaching as a slap, before it dropped lower, to his flat belly, reluctant to depart his body.
The hand then slid to the far side of Greg's body to lead Melissa into a side-hug of Greg. With her body pressed against his from the side, Greg's hand was plainly visible to me on the lower part of her ass, his fingers and palm openly stroking her contours. Releasing him from her grasp, her hand drifted low across his belly, brushing against his belt buckle, as if to remind herself that it represented a physical boundary that cannot be crossed.
Seeing the two of them touch each other so familiarly again opened the debate on whether I can trust my wife or whether she will cheat if the opportunity arises. This time, though, I found the odds to be highly in favor of her cheating.
Soon more guests decided to call it a night. Rideshares and taxis were called and goodbyes were exchanged. Brian remained and was still going strong. He was extremely stoned, but his energy level was somehow higher. Mark and Cindy were there, too, although headed on divergent paths. Mark's face was reddened, his eyes unfocused, and he was showing himself to be a sloppy drunk. Cindy had been sobering up, probably with the expectation that she would eventually have to start taking care of Mark. Regardless, both showed no signs of departing.
"Who's up for more drinks?" asked Mark after another game of pool had finished.
"C'mon, buddy! Let me get that for you," replied Greg.
Pulling Melissa right along with him, his arm still around her waist, Greg approached Mark, put his other arm around Mark's shoulder, and guided him back to the kitchen. Somehow that worked as a signal for everyone to follow. I was on the heels of those three walking abreast. My eyes searched for the meaning of Melissa's left hand underneath the back of Greg's sports jacket, which concerned me more than Greg's right hand, which overtly shaped itself to fit the curve of Melissa's right ass cheek directly in front of me. Their intoxication was so great that they had forgotten I was there, or that I had eyes that could see them.
Lisa was the last to leave the study, and as she did, the lights flicked off behind us, a clear signal that the party was coming to a close. As I walked through the living room, those lights dimmed, as well. When I reached the dining room, the music from the stereo became somewhat quieter.
I wasn't in the mood for another drink, so I decided to sit at the dining table at the side farthest from the kitchen, against the wall. Entering from the living room, Lisa dimmed the lights in the dining room before coming to stand next to me and lean against the wall.
From there she and I both observed Greg on the far side of the island mixing drinks for Mark and Brian while Melissa hung close to him on his right. She was talking with Brian on the opposite side, and in doing so, leaned down far, arms folded, trapping them between her belly and the countertop, which had the effect of pushing her breasts upward, deepening the visual of her soft cleavage. Brian surely enjoyed the view as they spoke. And no doubt Greg enjoyed it, too, seeing my wife bent so far over the countertop. After Greg handed the finished drinks to Mark and Brian, he grabbed his own cup with his left hand and took a sip, which caused me to wonder what his right hand was doing.
Perhaps seeing what I was seeing, Lisa suddenly placed her left hand on my right shoulder and gave it a friendly rub. Was this a signal of what was to come? Was sex with me and Melissa some form of revenge for Lisa against Greg?
Being so drunk and high, Melissa was probably not even cognizant that I was in the room, so it felt safe to signal back to Lisa. I dropped my right arm down and brought my hand clandestinely to the inside of her left calf.
She allowed it, so I began stroking it. Lisa pulled herself away from the wall and took a half step forward, which provided a better angle for me to touch her there. My dick began hardening in my pants for the umpteenth time tonight. The naughtiness of what Lisa and I were doing in a room full of oblivious people, plus the feel of Lisa's body underneath my hand, was pure fuel for a fire. My hand boldly slid up the inside of her thigh, still below the level of the dining table's surface, so no one could see.
Was Greg currently taking advantage of the same principle? His right hand still had not come into view. Although, if anything was going on, Melissa's face revealed nothing.
From the right side of my field of view, I saw some movement that caught my attention. The front door had opened. A figure entered and then closed the door, and then ascended the stairs.
The hand on my shoulder gave me a sharp squeeze. I looked up to Lisa's face, and she stared down at mine, saying nothing. And that silent stare told me everything.
That figure was Chris. Chris and Lisa are going to fuck tonight. And Greg knows that there is something going on between them. I reviewed in my head the events of the night. When Chris arrived, Greg didn't seem too happy about it, and soon thereafter, he asked Lisa into the garage for a private talk. Somewhere along the line, he told Melissa that Chris is gay, probably to cover for any extraordinary attention that Chris and Lisa lay upon each other through the course of the night, and perhaps to stem any attraction that Melissa might have toward Chris. Chris was a direct threat to Greg. That tension led to Chris's earlier, quiet departure from the party, either because he was asked to leave or because he simply thought it would be better. In any case, he and Lisa planned for his return. Turning off the lights in the study may have been a signal not only to the guests that the party is over, but a signal to Chris that he can safely re-enter and go upstairs to wait for Lisa.
