The New Years Party

[ Story by Old Dreamer [email protected] ]

We were invited to a colleague’s New Year’s party. My wife Julie hates parties and I mentioned it nervously, firmly expecting that she would refuse. I was surprised when she accepted with no fuss.

Our marriage had been going through a rough phase lately. I had once pressed her to make love to another man in my presence but she had indignantly refused.

“If I am going to fuck someone else it will be because I want to and in private not for your entertainment.” she had said. Wanting to save my marriage, I backed off and had said no more.

When the party invite arrived, I knew it was not going to be a swinging affair. I could but hope it might be exciting.

She must have sensed my hopeful eagerness and expected the worst. I didn’t imagine that is why she agreed to come and assumed she just wanted to please me to help save the marriage but, in the light of events, I am not as sure now.

At the weekend, she spent the afternoon getting ready and surprised me by getting out a very sexy dress with a low, revealing neckline resulting in a stunning display of cleavage.

The dress clung to her body, showing the outline of her suspender belt and panties. In spite of her 38 years, she still had a super slim, firm body and, with her long, blonde hair, she was stunning. I told her so, but she just snorted and said, “Don’t leave me alone at the party.”

When we got to the party it was up and running with lots of people there. I went to get us a drink from the bar in the kitchen. Whilst there I met a friend from out of town and chatted. I suddenly realised I had been a long time and hurried back with the drinks.

I was relieved to find that my wife had immersed herself in a small group and was chatting animatedly. However, when I offered the drink, it was clear that I was in trouble as she snarled at me to “piss off.”

I went and hit several quick drinks but consoled myself that she now seemed to be enjoying being the centre of attention in her group. A bunch of men looking as if they thought they were on to a good thing surrounded her.

I sat half drunk on the edge of the dance floor and slowly realised that my wife seemed to be the star of the show, at least for her group of admirers. She was dancing every dance with a whole string of men and, as the dance floor darkened and the music got slower and smoochy, she was nestling close in the arms of her partners.

She was obviously being chatted up and kissed passionately whilst her partners slowly rubbed themselves against her and attempted to grope her.

The lights became dimmer and dimmer and it became difficult to keep track of what she was up to, although I could see she had progressed to locking both hands around the neck of most of her partners whilst locking her lips to theirs.

This was clearly giving them free rein to explore her body as they wished.

In the far corner of the room was a long draped curtain and soon, all her partners steered her to that spot so their behaviour was obscured by the curtain and nobody could see what was going on.

However, when she came off the dance floor, she looked more flushed and excited every time I saw her. Although I had expected her to keep those randy studs at bay, I began to be obsessed with what they were being allowed to do to her.

Julie had been really annoyed when I was gone so long. She hated having to meet new people, being basically shy, but was one of those people who were very good at hiding it. When she got going she was very sociable. So she was pleased when a lot of men came up to talk to her. She recognised that they were the most notorious womanisers, but, they were entertaining, and it was fun to relive her single days.

She had always liked the attention from the wolves and enjoyed being in control and holding them at bay. She enjoyed the chat and flirting and, when the dancing started, she accepted all of the invitations to dance that flooded in.

All the men held her as close as possible and rubbed themselves against her in the slow numbers. They tried to kiss her and feel her tits, buttocks and belly, whilst whispering in her ear how beautiful she was and telling her what they would like to do to her.

All this attention was exciting and she was thrilled that men still wanted her. She basked in the flattery and attention. It was like being a young girl again with the difference that times had changed and she was now an experienced wife. In her youth, with no pill and a strict moral upbringing, she had become expert at deflecting the seducers.

She had missed out on the sixties’ sexual revolution whilst bringing up young children. She was tempted to take this opportunity to catch up but it was difficult to ignore the way she was brought up. So, at first, she kept her partners from groping her and turned away from their kisses.

However, as the evening wore on she became more aroused by the attentions. She began to think that I had set this evening up to realise my fantasy and was still furious at being deserted, so she stopped her partner’s advances less often.

The organisers had dimmed the lights on the dance floor and played only slow numbers, and, everywhere, couples were dancing close with their lips locked together.

She began to allow her partners to lick her neck, to nibble her ears, and then to lock their lips to hers. She allowed herself to respond and parted her lips to let their tongues explore her lips, teeth, and tongue.

Her excitement mounted and she let them slide their hands down her body to caress her breasts and buttocks. She insisted that they kept their hands to the outside of her clothes – an old-fashioned, teen-age restriction from her youth.

After each dance, she sat out for a while, joking and flirting with the group and enjoying the glow as the wine and the attention relaxed her.

The next time she danced she immediately responded to the searching lips and allowed the wandering hands, allowing them to thrill her body. This time she welcomed the hand that slid into the top of her dress and caressed her breasts through her bra. With favoured partners, she allowed their hands to ease her bra aside and caress her nipples. It was electric and soon both her breasts were bare and the nipples hard.

Her favoured partners immediately headed for the curtain, where they could quickly get their hands down the front of her dress, her bra to one side, and her tits exposed. There was little attempt to dance, just a deep snog and groping of her tits. They cupped them in their hands, caressing her nipples sending shivers of arousal through her.

She stopped the many attempts to get their hands up her skirt and at the end of the dance she straightened her cloths and returned to the group and her glass.

After this had been the routine for an hour or so, her eager last partner asked to her to dance simultaneously with another man.

“That’s tricky,” she laughed. “I can’t dance with both of you.”

“Why not?” one countered, and they each seized a hand and led her to the floor.

She slipped into the embrace of one of them and the other moved in behind her, sliding his hands around her torso. She was steered into the far, dark corner against the curtain and her conventional partner kissed her passionately, so she responded and clasped her hands around his neck.

The man behind soon had a hand into the plunging neck of her dress.

Her bra was soon undone and each of his hands were soon gripping a breast, stroking her nipples until they were hard and firm, whilst he rubbed his body against her buttocks.

The thrill of the kiss, the caresses of her breast, and the pressing of the obviously stiffening male member onto her buns added to her rising excitement and she allowed the man behind to reach down and caress her belly through her dress with his spare hand.

She stopped them from trying to raise her dress to get onto her bare flesh, but, suddenly, a hand was sliding across her bare stomach. The man behind had found the side zip of her dress, furtively slid it open, and, entering, caressed her belly. She instinctively stiffened… this was too far to fast.

She tried to get her hands down to stop him but could not do so because of her partner’s grip around her middle.

She was forced to abandon this fruitless, but enjoyable, effort to prevent the man exploring her body so intimately. She continued to respond to her first partner’s exploring tongue by nestling in his arms and enjoying the excitement that engulfed her body.

The exploring hand gently caressed her belly with ever widening circles, the tips of his fingers getting lower and lower. She tried to protest when the finger tips slipped under the waistband of her panties and was soon exploring her mound with its soft downy bush.

The finger-tips of the hand were soon at the top of her crack, the middle finger smoothly slipping between her pussy lips, easing them apart to expose the entrance to her cunt. She squeezed her legs together in a belated attempt to control the situation, but her front partner kept his knee between hers, holding her thighs apart, and providing the fingers of the man behind with free access.

Then the finger-tips were stroking her hardening button and she, at first, attempted to complain. This effort was soon lost as her desire exploded beyond her control.

She clung to her partner and opened her mouth wide to welcome his exploring tongue.

She murmured in ecstasy, and pressed her body to him. He had realised what his friend was up to and, having helped with his knee, seized the opportunity to participate.

He released his hand from her breast and thrust it down between them. He swayed away from her to give himself room, and pulled the front of her dress up until he could reach the top of her thighs.

He stroked her inner thigh; his movements steadily getting higher and higher until his hand was on the soft delicate skin above her stockings.

His hand stayed there for a while, savouring the pleasure of the moment, but soon moved up to caress her mound through her panties.

Then his hand was up under the leg of her pants and two fingers found the mouth of her cunt and were quickly deep up inside her, searching expertly for her sensitive spot.

She let out a low, audible moan when he found it and, as his finger tips massaged g-spot, at the same time the other man was working expertly on her clit. Her cunt responded inevitably to these attentions and convulsed to grip his fingers tightly as his finger- fucking intensified.

“Oh God, that’s so lovely,” she groaned into his ear and then had to bury her mouth into his shoulder to stifle her moans and her deepening pant as the orgasm started to grip her.

She clung desperately to him, thrusting her tongue down his throat. In her passion, she slipped her hand from his neck and down to his crotch. She could feel his prick was erect and she quickly slid his zip down until his hard prick sprung out into her hand. She stroked the glans expertly and gently caressed the tip before sliding her fingers down the shaft and expertly wanking it.

This movement became a frantic rhythm as those familiar intense spasms of pleasure gripped her body.

The man sped his finger-fuck in response to the spasms squeezing his fingers and her pants and moans.

She had stopped kissing. She jammed her mouth onto his shoulder to stifle the noise she was making and hung on to him until the pleasure spasm had subsided. She wanked him wildly, and was thrilled as she felt his prick jerk and spurt furiously over her hand, the sticky goo dripping down her hand and over the front of her dress.

In the glow of her first orgasm she relaxed, but the man behind continued to stroke her clit with a persistent rhythm. The fingers deep in her plundered her incessantly and the preliminary pleasures of a second, stronger orgasm speared through her body.

Then it hit her with shattering intensity. She released the first, wilting prick and reached behind her for the other prick which was now exposed and waiting. In response to her attention it soon spurted more cum into her hand and sprayed it over the back of her dress.

She relaxed into the arms of the two men, glowing with the pleasure that swept over her after her desire was fulfilled, but, gradually, was overcome by guilt at her unexpected behaviour and growing alarm at the mess she was and her fear of discovery when the dance ended.

The exhausted satisfaction of the men was passing also but replaced, not by guilt, but rekindling desire.

One of them returned to fondling her breasts and taking his cue, the other soon had his hand on her crotch and slid his fingers up her knicker leg again and deep into her.

She pushed their hands away and whispered, “I must get cleaned up,” and broke away from their clutches.

She quickly walked off the floor and rushed up the stairs to the toilet, saying a silent prayer for the low lighting. She was relieved when she slipped safely inside and locked the door.

One Response to “The New Years Party”

  1. wilmer Says:

    Fantastic story, I hope you will write more of the same soon.

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