An Evening with Friends
A new home, boxes unpacked and our first social evening ahead of us.
My wife and I were tired -- very tired, but still, with an evening with friends to look forward to, we were ready to keep going rather than just flop into our sofa and doze off. We had invited just two other couples -- Emma and David, Karen and Jeff. We had all known each other for a while, but it was the first time all six of us had got together. We were confident, though, that things would work well, as both couples were relaxed and easy going, had similar interests and enjoyed a drink -- sensibly, of course. Additionally, we were all of a similar age (early 30s) and had many tastes in common -- music, films, literature, sports etc.
Importantly, we did not feel under pressure to look perfect. A good thing, as our home was far from finished. There was no coffee table in the living room, leaving a large, vacant space, and we only had enough comfortable seating for four, supplemented by cushions. It wasn't perfect, but no-one would care.
During the afternoon, my wife, Claire, and I had been shopping. We had bought crisps, nuts, cake and various bits of food to place in bowls. We had bought wine, beer and champagne to celebrate our new home. We were also overrun with strawberries -- Claire had taken the kids to a 'Pick your Own' strawberry farm, and they had returned with enough to keep Wimbledon going for a month. These, along with cream, would no doubt be very popular.
Kids were packed off for sleepovers with friends, food was ready, the environment was as good as it was going to be, and now it was time for us to get ready. A quick shower and change -- shorts and t shirt for me, skirt and blouse for Claire -- nothing formal. I watched as she changed, admiring how she had worked to keep her figure after two kids, enjoying, as usual, her larger than average breasts (the envy of many), and her meticulously hairless body. I was lucky.
So, I reflected, were our friends. Emma was tall and had a feline grace which made me think she could almost have been a model in her younger days. She was slim, but toned, as a result of hours at the gym (where she and Claire met).
Karen was petite. In fact, had I not known her age, I might easily have mistaken her for a student at first sight. In some ways, her body was almost androgynous -- slim hips and breasts which looked more as if she was a late developer rather than a mature woman. She rarely wore a bra, and it was this fact alone which hinted at more maturity -- her nipples often proudly erect, which barely seemed to bother her at all. I found it quite a turn on.
It would, in fact, be rather odd seeing these three entirely different women together. Different, but all attractive in their own unique way. Even their hair was different. Claire -- brunette, long and luxurious, to match her dark, almost Latin look; Emma - blonde, cropped short, with tanned skin from her recent holiday; Karen -- auburn, cut in a neat bob with pale skin, which freckled in the sun.
I barely noticed what the men looked like. We were all fairly similar, I suppose. We were all athletic -- Jeff and I had met through playing cricket together. We both worked in the 'creative arts' field. He was a lecturer in art at the local University, while I was a photographer. My first love, as a photographer, was wildlife photography, but I would never compete, on a professional level, with those who had the vastly expensive kit, and inordinate amounts of patience to get the great shots. I also loved landscapes, but rarely managed to be in a position to take the truly great shots -- and, as a family man, I would never travel to the truly magnificent corners of the earth.
So I was left taking portraits and trying to make them creative. This was supplemented with the occasional 'boudoir' shoot, which could be a lot of fun. These tended to involve wives or girlfriends wanting to make their partners horny with a set of sexy pictures -- and varied in their success. Some arrived looking good, with plenty of lingerie and a willingness to strip off for some truly rewarding images.
Others, it seemed, wanted to just get naked and make porn -- arriving with sex toys, fetish clothing and a desire to degrade themselves for their lovers. Still others were unprepared for the whole thing, not really willing to reveal themselves any more than they would on a beach. Still, persuasion usually worked, and the top eventually came off, if not the panties.
On one memorable occasion, a woman turned up saying she assumed I would provide the lingerie -- totally unaware that these things came in different sizes, and I ended up telling her that I would not take any photos of her until she went away and prepared properly. Like any job, there were ups and downs. Worst were those who wanted to seduce me -- and failed every time, regardless of their physical attractions.
David was a 'property manager', in business with Emma. I have no idea what a 'property manager' does. Something to do with renting out offices and homes to people who can't be bothered to look for themselves. Unlike Jeff and I, who were tall, slim and toned, David was muscular. Not obscenely so, but sufficiently to make him wear tight t shirts, and walk as if he was cracking walnuts with his buttocks. This was a result of hours at the gym with Emma. His only real defect (in his eyes) was that he was only 5'6, and desperately wanted to be taller, mainly to match Emma's 5'9 (or 6' in heels). Despite their efforts to achieve physical perfection, David and Emma were not arrogant, but found it easy to laugh and joke, accepting good natured teasing about the 'body beautiful', and accepting their own vanity for what it was.
At 8 o' clock, the doorbell rang. Claire shot up and hurried to greet our first guests. Inevitably, it was Emma and David. They were always prompt, maybe because their business required it. As ever, they looked fabulous. David wore dark chinos and a plain t shirt, sporting the logo of their company, while Emma wore a loose, sleeveless white blouse, buttoned at the front, but open far enough to show just a hint of cleavage, and a red skirt, finishing half way down her thigh. It was a simple outfit, but somehow managed to look stunning, showing off her arms and legs to great effect, and making everyone very aware of both her tan and her toned muscles.
As they came in, Emma and I exchanged 'air kisses', followed by a hearty (and slightly painful) handshake and clap on the arm with David.
Claire fussed around, getting drinks and settling everyone in our new living room.
'Looks great, mate', opined David, looking around the room.
'Thanks', I replied, 'about time we took a step up in the world'.
'When do we get the grand tour?' asked Emma.
David and I rolled eyes at one another. Being typically male, we were not particularly interested in looking around each other's homes -- we could leave that to the ladies.
'Let's wait till Karen and Jeff arrive,' replied Claire, 'I really can't be bothered to do the grand tour twice.'
As if on cue, the doorbell rang again, and Claire shot up to admit our final two guests.
More air kisses, more shaking hands, and after a brief pause, the ladies left to tour the property. In fairness, it was quite a step up for us from our previous two bedrooms and a box room terraced house to this four bedroom, large, detached 'mansion'. As for many people, it had been a combination of work going well and a substantial legacy, following the death of my mother, and reflected the need for more space for our maturing family -- and, more importantly -- my need to have a studio at home.
'You and Karen look good,' said David to Jeff. What he meant, of course, was that Karen looked good, something both he and I had noticed. She wore a long, flowing skirt and a loose t shirt with a scoop neck. It was one of the rare occasions on which she had chosen to wear a bra, as the scooped neckline of her top allowed us to see every time she bent forward. I felt certain that she was very aware of this, as she had made sure that she bent forward at times when David and I could hardly fail to notice.
'Thanks,' replied Jeff, taking a sip from his beer, 'same for you guys. Claire and Emma seem to look better every time I see them. However, more importantly, how's work going with you guys?'. Our work was almost an obsession with Jeff. He had been desperate to get away from his employers and set up business alone for some time, but lacked the courage and self-belief to take the final plunge, despite Karen's encouragement.
'Great,' I reacted instantly. 'Now I've got the home studio and new kit, I can do more, better work, and with a bit of luck I won't need to rent studio space in future.'
