Bad Idea

We're at a party. Mutual friends. My girlfriend couldn't make it. Your boyfriend's only here for the first hour. Has a work shift. I leave the two of you alone while he's here.

The moment he's gone, you come over. We chat. We drink. Others in the kitchen with us. And then it's just us.

"Bad things happen when we're alone." You say it with a smile.

"Good thing we're not alone."

People always milling around. Moving through the house. Coming in for drinks.

You wink. That sexy smile again. You head outside. Into the garden. Gesture for me to follow.

It's a cool night. A few others are down the far end of the garden. Sharing a spliff. Inside's music is muffled and distant. You walk around the side of the house. A side alley. Choked in shadows. Lean against the wall. Knee bent, one foot flat to the wall. Dress riding up.

I walk up to you. The moment I'm close enough you grab me. Drop your beer can with a clatter. Both hands on my hips and pull me in tightly. Hands on my bum pulling me up against you. Crotches together. We stand like that, silently, both of us feeling me harden.

I look to my right. The guys sharing a spliff are no longer visible. We're hidden in shadow. I run a hand up your thigh.

"I guess we are alone," I say.

I grab you by the wrists and hold them above your head. Skin against the cold brick.

You exhale. Your breath hanging in the air.

I thrust up against you. You moan, a little loudly. You wrap a leg around me. We stay like that a moment and then we get into a familiar rhythm. Dry-humping against the wall.

"I can't stop thinking about last time," you whisper.

"Me neither."

I haven't been able to. I keep reliving it. The key moments. Sucking on your nipples as you ground your pussy against my dick. But we didn't fuck. I'm so glad we didn't and yet I constantly wish we had.

I let go of your wrists and put my hands on your bum. Pick you up. Push you against the wall and grind against you a little faster.

"Do you think of me," you say, between gasps, "when you're with her?"

I nod.

"What do you imagine?"

"I think about going down on you."

"Yeah?"

"I can't stop thinking about how badly I want to taste you. To make you cum on my tongue."

You make the sexiest sound. Somewhere between a moan and a giggle. You pull my head into your neck, and we pick up the pace. I'm close. Already.

Suddenly the sound of someone opening the backdoor loudly.

"You out here?" One of your friends. Drunk. Looking for you.

We separate and I slink deeper into the shadows. You head round the corner. See your friend. Tell her you were getting some air. Messaging your boyfriend. I hear the backdoor close. And I'm left out here, waiting for my dick to soften.

An hour passes. Of me trying to get you alone again. Of stealing looks across the living room. Of us brushing against each other innocently.

Finally find you in a back room. Beyond the kitchen. You sit on a table. Legs apart and smile at me, seductively. I stride up. Take my position between your legs. You wrap them around me. I grab you by the shoulders and push you back onto the table. I pin you down there.

"Someone might catch us," you say with a giggle.

"Isn't that what makes it fun?"

You grab my hair roughly and pull my ear close to your lips. You whisper. "I wish your cock was in my mouth."

There are voices in the next room, and again we have to quickly part and again I'm left with an uncomfortable erection and a desperate need to get you alone.

The night continues like that. Taking opportunities where we can. To embrace. For you to grind yourself against me and get me hard. To whisper desires into each other's ears. A couple moments alone in the bathroom. A few minutes outside again. But never long enough. Not enough time.

It's late as everyone finally starts finding somewhere to sleep. We're in the living room. Maybe eight or nine of us. In sleeping bags. Someone on the sofa. Another in an armchair. The rest of us on the floor, using cushions and jumpers as pillows. I found a spot in one corner. You settle down next to me.

Lights out it's pitch-black. House in the country. You move a little closer. I drape my sleeping bag, unzipped, over us both. Perhaps it would look a little intimate for two friends with partners to be sleeping like this, but everyone's drunk and it's dark. Eventually the whispering and giggling dies down and the sounds of sleeping start.

I'm wide awake. Hoping you are too. And, turned away from me, you shuffle backwards. Taking up the little spoon position. You take my arms and wrap them around you. It feels so exposed to be doing this in this room. You push your bum back against my dick. Making me hard. You're in sexy pyjama bottoms. Our friends are sleeping in the same room. Friends who know our partners and none of them has any idea what we're doing.

I run my hands down your waist. To your thigh. Put my hand upon it firmly and hold you tightly against me. You put your hand on mine. You stroke the back of my hand as I stroke your leg. Tentatively, I slide my hand a little higher. A little higher. Drag my fingertips over your skin. Reaching the bottom of your pyjama shorts. Stop there a moment. Draw circles. And then I move my fingers around your thigh, in towards your crotch. Your hand presses down. Not sudden or too firm but enough to make me stop.

We just lie like that. Listening to the sounds of other people snoring and rolling over in rustling sleeping bags. And then you grip my hand and move it for me. Move it over your thigh. Over your pyjama shorts. Place it on your crotch. I can feel your warmth. I apply pressure and your breath catches. I start rubbing you through your shorts. Feeling you beneath the thin fabric. You let go of my hand and reach behind. Making a loud rustle underneath the sleeping bag. You grab my bum and pull me against you. I grind against you and continue to stroke your pussy through your shorts

And in this mostly quiet room of our mutual friends sleeping, all of whom know my girlfriend and your boyfriend, I slide my hand up to the waistband of your shorts, feel the smooth warm skin of your stomach, test the waters by tentatively stroking the skin at the edge of your waistband, slip a fingertip beneath it and then you squeeze my bum firmly and I take that as agreement and I slide my hand down beneath your shorts, beneath your panties and through your hair and feel how wet you are. I run my finger down your slit and you let out a loud breath. Almost a moan. Almost.

In the dark I see the shape of the back of your head turning. Burying your face in your pillow. I finger you slowly. As quietly as I can. Thrusting my erection up against your bum. I play with your clit. Gently. You're squeezing my bum, face buried in the pillow. And I slide my finger inside you and as I do I look across the room. My eyes adjusting to the dark and on the sofa opposite I can see a friend. The one who introduced me to my girlfriend. She's got to be asleep. Back to us. Curled up on the sofa. And only across the room my finger is inside you. You're so wet and warm and the fact we have to be so still and quiet only makes it hotter. Your hand slides back. Comes between us and you grab my dick through my boxers. Wrap your hand around the shaft. I thrust into your hand and I finger you and I breathe onto the back of your neck and all this rustling and heavy breathing is surely going to wake someone and you grip my dick tight, tighter and your body convulses. A muffled groan into the cushion that could be brushed aside as the sounds of sleep. Your body quivering. Your thighs clamping tightly together, squeezing my hand.

After a few moments of stillness, you roll over. Loudly, deliberately. Towards me. Just the sound of someone getting comfortable. Someone else in the room has started snoring.

I can just make out your face. Your eyes. The heat in them. Your hands go to my waist. To my boxers. You pull them down. Freeing my erection. You shuffle a little closer. My tip brushes your stomach. You push your crotch against mine. Drag it up the length of my dick. Once, twice. We're both thinking the same thing. Your pyjama bottoms are in the way. But it's you who acts. Pulling down your shorts, your soaked panties and now there's nothing between us. We've been here before.

Your hands on my back. Mine on yours. My chin on your shoulder. I slide the length of my dick up your wet slit. It feels so fucking good. Slowly, quietly. Grinding, again. Your hands are on my bum. Controlling the rhythm. I push against them. Thrusting away further. Until it's just my tip I'm grinding you with. Up and down. Your hands gripping painful chunks of my skin and flesh. And the tip of my dick is at your opening. I'm barely moving it. Teasing you. Teasing me. Neither of us really knowing what I'm going to do next.

A light comes on. Harsh and white and from one corner. Someone's phone. And there's a loud rustling and groaning. The sound of someone getting to their feet. We freeze.

To the right I watch as them stumbling their way across the room. Over and between bodies. Torch on their phone blinding anyone awake. Trying their best not to disturb anyone and very much doing exactly that. Someone else grumbles and on the sofa across the room I see the friend pull their blanket up over their head. The guy reaches the door and leaves. Doesn't quite pull it closed. The hallway light flicks on and spills into the living room. But it's mostly silence again.

Very slowly we peel ourselves apart. Just a little. My dick still at your opening. In the lighter room we look into each other's eyes. We're all sweat and lust. Your hand slides down between us and you wrap your fingers slowly around my dick. The feeling of your fingers against its skin is enough to make me twitch. I gulp. Maybe even shiver. You slide your hand down slowly. And then up again. Keeping my dick where it is. Tip pushed up against your lips. Stroking me. Rustling the sleeping bag. I dare not move. Only allowing one hand to find your breasts. To softly hold them while you jerk me.

In the near-distance a toilet flushes. And the floorboards creaks as the guy stumbles back towards us. You don't stop. You don't slow. Even as the hallway light flicks off. Even as he comes back into the room. And even as his phone torch blinds anyone awake and he stumbles across sleeping bodies eliciting a few groans, you jerk my dick.

I'm getting close. So close. The light goes out again and we're in dark again. And across the room is the shape of that friend on the sofa. And other bodies all around us. And I thrust a little up into your hand. Tip of my dick now almost inside you. Another inch and we'd be fucking. And your strokes get quicker. And I grip you tighter. And it takes all my will not to thrust into you and slam my hips into you again and again and fuck you hard and fast in this room of all my friends. I drop my head onto your shoulder. Bury my mouth against your neck. And I cum. So hard, so intensely. Going lightheaded. Cumming all over your pussy, your stomach. Holding back my groans. Trying to muffle my breathing against your neck. Fuck.

Eventually we peel apart. Stuck together. Must have made the room stink of sex. It felt like we were being deafening. But the room is still and dark. The rhythmic sounds of deep breathing and snoring. As best as I can tell no-one is looking at us.

You lean forward and plant a soft kiss on my lips. Barely a kiss. Just pressing your lips against mine. For a second or two. And then it's your turn to get up, to disturb the other sleeps, to find your way to the bathroom.