She was not exactly an over-prim woman, but always stayed within certain limits, and never went as far as adultery; moreover, she had never had any intention to steal anyone’s husband. And yet, on that particular day, she did go over the top, to her own genuine amazement. Apparently, we all have our hidden devils. And her stumbling stone was that stupid birthday party with a lot of alcohol.
The night turned out to be a success, they were drinking and enjoying themselves. It was her friend’s thirtieth birthday, and she decided to have a grand party. Wine and champagne were flowing, as the result, many guests were really drunk, and so was the hostess. She also had quite a few drinks, even though tried to stay reasonable. And then, just for the fun of it, or, possibly, under the influence of the wine, she began to flirt with her host’s husband. No harm meant, she just wanted to have a little fun, to fool around. And then she really got into it. She gave him meaningful looks, she was roaring with laughter whenever he cracked a joke, she was touching him with her foot under the table – well, it was her own personal enhancement of the party’s cultural program. Her own husband was away on a business trip, so she was on her own at the celebration, with no one to watch over her.
Her friend had drunk more than she should and paid no heed to her provocations. As for her husband, he became restless, the crook really felt like having a go. He was actually a decent timid guy, but now he was salivating just looking at her, and it made her even more excited. As they say, the forbidden fruit tastes sweeter, and the stolen apples are always the best. Later she was ashamed even to think about that episode, but that night she was really crazy, something had got into her head.
The party was getting to its end, the guests were about to leave. So was she. And then a thought flashed through her mind: Why don’t I help them to wash up? The heat of the chase was on her. Her friend gladly accepted her offer to help do the dishes, and the thrilling intrigue went on, becoming more and more exhilarating.
The whole thing would end up as a joke, but the “last toast” proved to be fatal for the birthday girl. One of the departing guests offered to have one last drink, and it turned to be her last drop. Once the three of them (herself, her friend and her husband) began to clean up, the hostess passed out completely. She was not sick, but her legs would not hold her, so the husband dragged her away to bed.
“Will you manage on your own? I will be back!” He cast a look at her, dragging his wife to the bedroom.
“Sure,” she smiled, holding his gaze.
“But please don’t leave, I won’t manage without you.” He looked back one more time, closing the door behind him.
“I won’t,” she said, smiling provocatively and giggling inwardly. She had hooked him!
Before starting to do the dishes, she put on an apron, thought it over and giggled at her new idea. She untied and then re-tied the string and pulled her dress higher up, to reveal a strip of bare flesh above her stocking.
“Woof… I have put her to bed.” Her host tiptoed out of the bedroom.
“Is she asleep?” She turned back from the sink and almost laughed out loud. He looked stunned, which meant that he liked the stocking thing.
“She is.” He tried to pretend he had not noticed anything. “I will be with you right away.”
He walked to the table and began to collect the plates; unseen, she pulled the dress even higher.
“Erm… Here are… more dishes…” Without looking at him, she sensed the expression on his face and again bit her lip.
“Put them here and go get the glasses. I do not think they should go into the dishwasher.” She tried to keep her voice steady.
“Right… away…” He was obviously perplexed. “I’ll… go bring them.”
From a corner of her eye she saw that, leaving to fetch the glasses, he almost twisted his neck, staring at her leg; once again, she had to suppress a giggle, it was all too funny.
The reflection in the polished door of a kitchen cupboard showed her that he had turned his back to her, and she quickly repeated the same maneuver, pulling the dress even higher. In her haste, she overdid it a little, exposing the bottom part of her buttock, but she had no chance to pull the dress back down, her host turned to her.
“We will also wash the shot glasses…” He gasped behind her. Too bad she could not see his face! The tinkle of a broken glass was more eloquent than any applause.
“Get them… here.” She was working so hard to restrain her laughter, that tears began to roll down her cheeks.
He was carrying a handful of clinking glasses, his hands were shaking.
“Could you pull down my apron? It keeps tugging up my dress.” She bent over the sink, protruding her bum even further. “My hands are wet, so I need help.”
“I like it the way it is.” All of a sudden, he became bold. “You look great this way.”
“You think so?” She turned to him, never expecting such an audacity.
“Absolutely!” Her host was obviously getting aroused. It turned out he was not made of iron.
“Whatever. I still feel it is wrong.” She giggled and shrugged, but then pulled a straight face.
“Hey, you go on with the dishes and pay no attention. We have known each other for ages. Why be ashamed?” He stepped closer, his eyes on her bum. Apparently, she got him sexed up, going too far with her jokes.
“Why indeed?” she winked mischievously, even though she still had absolutely no intentions to step over the line. “Right, for ages. Do put the glasses into the sink.” “I would actually pull your apron even higher,” her friend’s husband went on. “Like that.” He pulled up a string and pushed the hem of her dress all the way to the top of her G-string. She had put on this particular underwear on purpose.
He took a step back, admiring her bum (and her bum was in perfect shape, for she exercised regularly). His expression was very eloquent, she could not have asked for a nicer compliment; looking at his face, she could not help giggling again – the alcohol was taking its toll.
“Indeed. And a little higher, too.” Her friend’s husband was obviously catching the spirit; he pulled her dress even higher, brushing his hands against her bare buttocks. She seemed to have provoked him with her giggles, even though she should have slapped his hands.
She did not feel like slapping his hands though, she was enjoying the game more and more; all of a sudden she felt like letting go of the brakes.
“Do you think it will help with doing the dishes?” Making this joke, she felt his hands slide down her hips. It felt like a burn, for she had a very sensitive bum.
“Of course! Just don’t press so tightly to the sink. You will get wet. That’s the right way.” Getting even bolder, he placed his hands on her hips, moving her away from the sink, sort of clutching her. The game was becoming even more exciting.
“This way?” she asked, rounding her bum and feeling dizzy – not with the alcohol this time.
“Exactly! And you know what? Your panties are so white.” His hand slid along the elastic of her G-string. “You don’t want to splash water on them.”
“You think so?” She felt the warmth between her legs.
“There’s water all over! Didn’t they get wet from the sink?” His fingers brushed against her buttocks once again, and then slid towards her groin…
She started and gasped on the air that suddenly became hot. She was getting aroused.
“But… wait a minute…” she tried to reason with him, and then, to her own amazement, stopped short, while her legs spread a little wider on their own accord, inviting his fingers in; he noticed it straight away and began to take even bigger liberties. His fingers began to stroke her groin.
“Didn’t I say you would get wet?” The moist panties between her legs revealed her excitement. “Let’s take them off, before it is too late.” Giving her no chance to answer, he pulled them down.
“Well… Ah…” She was stunned by his audacity and felt that her head was swimming.
“You go on with the shot glasses, please. Pay me no heed.” Her friend’s husband, forgetting all the propriety, began to stroke her buttocks. “I will try not to get in the way.”
“What if… she… wakes up?” she exhaled, her voice faltering.
“She won’t. We will be quiet.” He knelt down behind her and began licking her between the legs.
…When, having her sit her on the kitchen table and spread her legs, her friend’s husband entered her, she gasped, trying to contain her emotions.
They heard the tinkling of yet another broken shot glass in the sink. Fortunately, the birthday girl did not wake up.
This story is a part of Looking Through the Curtains Collection of erotic short stories that you can find on Amazon.com. The series of these Collections includes 200 stories, none of them for the minors.