Over the years we held many parties and attended many too and the crowd normally present ranged all ages. I think the age range we mix with has been instrumental in keeping my wife and I young at heart, which from my point of view alone gets me into easy conversation with some extremely tasty, fit in appearance and athletically young ladies - not always single.
There was one in particular whom we had known for years and we had struck up an unlikely sort of bonding, I remember my interest in her artisitic skills at school and her mentioning an exhibition they had been to visit as school party, that I had been to previously, so she sought me out, when in the gang if there were no others her or near her age to be with or sometimes to quiz me on some art technique. We just got on and melded nicely. During one slightly tipsy previous meeting, without her mother Karen present, Kim had actually giggled that if she was older and I was single, she would really fancy me, as she charmingly put it. My mind boggled at the time but let that non-likely to happen event subside - but I was highly flattered of course and kept it to myself.
Some years later...
Kim, the eighteen year old daughter of Karen, was a lovely, fresh faced, full toothed, smiley young lady with a comely, proportioned fit body. I guessed about five three in height. Fit in terms of being athletically firm without being over muscled, shapely and with good legs. Being a tit man rather than a leg man, I did still take an interest in girl's limbs, noticeably the ankles. Karen liked her booze, as did Kim, but she was very cautious when her mum was present. The gang were at a party where most guests would need a taxi home, including Chloe and I, due to lashings of booze being downed, almost by order by the hosts. They resided in a remote village.
At about one in the morning, divorced Karen wanted to leave, but a new issue was involved, in that she had been chatted up and decided that the new bloke Dave and her would go home. It was evident by Karen and Kim's attitudes, mum didn't want daughter around but felt obliged to transport her home, and daughter didn't like Dave and wanted to stay. Chloe volunteered - Fuck! she is a lucky omen for me - to take Kim in our taxi and drop her safely at Karen's place on the way.
She got lightly pissed as she relaxed with Mum out of the way and she spent a lot of the time as she had done through the balmy summer evening in the garden, chatting with me and small group of men who I could tell were ogling the pleasantly drunk and easy going teenager. I seemed to be the catalyst for her late evening as was usually the case whenever and wherever we met, so our evening drifted to a merry, well sozzled closing. By now a few of the men were taking the piss that Kim was going home with me, a renowned dirty old man - and his straight laced but now booze wrecked wife - and she was.
The fact that she was wearing what would be described as a pussy pelmet had given a fabulous display of bare, tanned, firm, long thighs and the slightest snatch of an arse cheek when she had stooped to retrieve something she had dropped, was logged into memory, but that was all.
The six seater taxi arrived, we had collected another two passengers, as Chloe had suggested lifts to various places en-route, a small, short dark haired, single lady Sally, who was fairly new to the group, and hated sitting in the front seat of taxis. I later learned she had been groped by a Hungarian cap driver. Bob, a very fat man who was so pissed he could hardly stand but insisted on being in the back because of the seat size and leg room, so Chloe being small in stature slid in between the driver and Sally, while Kim was somewhat squashed between Bob and I. Sally would be the first drop.
Off we went, Kim already snuggling into me away from Bob's blubber and foul, not only boozy breath. I slid my arm round her shoulders, giving her more room for which she gratefully snuggled deeper and giving me more views down her cleavage, because of the squeeze and her low cut shirt. I couldn't see a lot, but nice bumpy swells. Sally got out, then Bob and Chloe fell asleep. The Paki taxi driver glanced at my wife who had slumped near the door, grinned and winked at me as if saying she's OK . It did occur to me if he had a view up her skirt, as for once she was wearing a knee length denim skirt which I loved and encouraged her to buy, showing off her sturdy, still shapely, very tanned, bare legs and off we went again on the eleven miles to Kim's home then another two to ours. Sally and Bob had thrust some cash to Chloe to help what would be quite a fare.
Luckily the driver was not a chatty man, Chloe was smashed and snoring gently and I was ensconced in the now roomy back seat with a gorgeous girl huddled in my arm. Now and then we chatted, her speech affected by tiredness and alcohol. Kim sleepily wondering where we were and I revelled in the togetherness, her soft warm body and exotic scent. Sleep, lack of stamina and booze finally took over and she was zzzing happily against my upper chest having cuddled closer if that was possible, she was sliding lower. Her minimal, dark blue, cotton skirt was at the limit of gathering higher, just managing to shield her crotch from my view.
I cuddled the teenager, near dozing myself until the driver slowed down and completely circled a roundabout access to the motorway. Seeing flashing amber lights and sensing the manoeuvre, I looked up as he spoke in a fractured version of English. He announced that the major and most direct route to the neighbourhood, where both our houses were, was closed for night maintenance work and he would have to use a different more rural way. There was nothing he could do and I told him to go ahead. I reckoned it would be a good fifteen extra miles.
