A brief interlude

Kay smiles as she and Jenny walk in. As we hug and kiss our hellos, I surprise myself by sliding my left hand gently down her back, starting between her shoulder blades and running down to the small of her back. I relax the hug somewhat, but she pulls me tighter. I allow my hand to slide down further, palm resting on the rump of her butt, fingers dangling carelessly downwards. Then I lightly grip her backside and break the hug. As we pull apart she looks me in the eye. She does not look angry, but she is not smiling either. She moves on to hug Grace, my wife, as I hug and kiss Jenny.

We walk into the kitchen where I am adding the last touches to dinner. I chat to Jen about this and that as I prepare the salad. Jenny has always been easy to speak to, an broad mind and a healthy sense of humour. Her husband is not with her again tonight so Kay is here as her ‘plus one’. Kay divorced a few years ago and still single as far as I know. She is a tall woman, a few inches taller than my six foot. She is easy going enough but often has a seriousness bordering on sadness, but it is not bitterness or anger. Every now and then she will say something outrageous which will make everyone laugh. It always catches me by surprise.

Doug and Sue arrive, and we move to the candlelit dining room. “Okay everyone, I sit at the head of the table and no-one sits next to their partner.” An arbitrary rule to add to the sense of novelty and increase conversation.

Kay is sitting to my right, Doug to the left. We serve and sit down to the meal. The conversation flies around the table. I consider it the role of a good host to ensure that everyone is involved and that the discussion doesn’t break down into two or three private conflabs too early. It will happen eventually, perhaps over dessert.

We are halfway through the mains when I feel a leg on mine. It must be Kay’s. I pretend to I have not noticed. The leg pulls away. I stretch out slightly and my foot bumps into hers again. We stay like that for a few moments and then risk a look at her. She is staring at me. The intent is unmistakeable. Still staring at me she inches her foot up the back my leg. I feel her toes rippling across my calf. This is wonderful, but someone is going to notice that stare. I am sure Grace has noticed already, but the others may be uncomfortable. Jen is almost certain to say something, she won’t be able to resist. Knowing her, it will be the kind of comment that stops the conversation dead, even if it’s a joke.

I meet Kay’s gaze again and then look pointedly at my wife. She misinterprets me and her foot moves away and her eyes drop to her plate. Damn.

We finish dinner and the Doug and I go out onto the balcony for a smoke. Jen joins us, even though she is not a smoker. Grace, Kay and Sue are in the lounge. What I love about the dinners at our place is the conversation. I do my best to pair groups of friends, four or five at the most, who will get on with each other. As the wine flows the subject change. From family and kids to spirituality and politics to love and, if we are lucky, sex. Doug and Sue seem like quite a staid couple, about 8 years younger than the rest of us, but they always open up to most subjects. Sue never drinks more than 1 glass of wine, but even that is enough to bring out her more devilish side. Doug is either a very lucky or patient man.

I finish up my ciggie and head inside. The women in the lounge seem to be deep in conversation, so I head to the kitchen to clean up some of the mess and make room for the dishes from the table.

“I’m sorry about earlier” Kay has followed me in to the kitchen.

“Earlier?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“Um, under the table…” She is staring at me again. Not trying to see my soul or anything stupid, just giving me all of her attention.

“I didn’t mind under the table at all,” I say, “It’s just that you are an awfully bad liar.”

“But… What?”

“Can you describe to me what Jen would have done if she saw you staring at me the way you were, the way you are now?”

“Oh!” She blushes and drops her eyes to the floor.

“Yes, exactly. She would have had everyone’s attention on you.” And me, I don’t add.

“That was really stupid of me, sorry.” She turns to leave.

“Wait,” I say walking over to her. “Jen is not here now.”

She turns back to face me. I move closer until we are inches apart. Our eyes locked again.

“But…” I put my fingers to her lips. Then slowly drag them down her chin, her neck, between her breasts and across her stomach. I trace the waistband of her skirt and then down her outer hip.

“I don’t mind the risk of getting caught, but not by everyone. It would have been a real pity if we had stopped the party.”

I bend my knees slightly and dip my hand under the hem of her knee-length skirt. I stand up and my hand comes to rest about halfway up her stockinged thigh.

“Are you nervous?” I ask.

She nods.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Her eyes close and for a few moments she doesn’t respond. Then she shakes her head.

I bring my other hand up to her face and start caressing it gently, tracing her ears, jawline, mouth, nose and eyes. Slightly more firmly, like a potter with clay, I mould her brows and her cheekbones and down again to her jaw and her throat.

I leave it there, encompassing her throat as I focus on her thighs. With the back of my hand and fingernails, I move up and down her thighs in small movements, each time moving slightly higher. Her stockings end three quarters of the way up. I move higher, avoiding her mons, tracing the line between leg and pubis until I come up against the waistband of her skirt again.

Her eyes are still closed, her head tilted up and her her lips parted. I squeeze gently on her neck and then thrust my other hand downwards in one firm stroke to completely engulf her pussy. She gives a shudder and her legs part slightly.

Watching her face I try to find the right rhythm. Fast, hard, slow, gentle. She humps back against my hand but it doesn’t feel right. An urgency overtakes me and reach up and drag her panties down and slide my hand inside.

“Oh fuck” she exclaims.

She is completely clean shaven and my middle finger slips easily between her labia as I probe down until my finger is at her entrance.

Her movements became more insistent so I bring my fingers back up to her clit and start a four beats per second, lets make this quick, rhythm. Her hands come up to my shoulders and her fingers dig into my arms. I feel her stiffen and change to slightly slower and more forceful pace. In the midst of her shaking I hear the conversational tone in the lounge change slightly.

I gave her a quick peck and shake her slightly. As her eyes open, I point to the door and then moved back to the table where I had left my cleaning up. A few seconds later Grace walks in. Kay was still leaning against the wall, trying and failing to look nonchalant.

“What on earth are you faffing with dishes for, you should be taking care of our guests.” She looked pointedly at Kay, ” our other guests, I mean.”

Kay blushes crimson. She really was terrible at cheating.

“Seriously,” Grace continued, “Jen has had Doug outside since we finished dinner and I think Sue is getting a bit irritated. I can’t blame her either, I wouldn’t trust that girl with my husband for 10 minutes. Go and get them in. It will look too obvious if I do it.”

“Of course, love” I said meekly.

“Kay, do you think you could help me in get Jen off the poor man. I am sure he must be suffering under her searing intellect and boundless enthusiasm.”

“Sure.” Kay giggles. That was a first for me. Kay never giggles.

We went outside to rescue a husband from the clutches of another woman.


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