It is Elena's birthday party, Elena is turning 35 and had decided to throw a big nineties party. The kind of party for people in their early to mid-thirties who do not party as much as they used to and like it when they get to. Elena is a colleague of Sam, my wife.
Sam and I are very much the target group: on most Friday evenings, we fall asleep on the couch at 10 PM after a long workweek, and although we like to dance and paint the town, somehow it is very low on our priority list.
Tonight though is very much on, the party spot is a place we used to frequent when we were students, the people are our kind of people and the music is very much our kind of music. I wear blue jeans and a black T-shirt. Sam is wearing a little black dress and black sneakers. It is summer and the place was only 500 meters away from where we live, so there's no need for jackets.
We know quite a few people at the party. We drink a bit, dance a bit, talk to interesting people, and drink some more. Overall, we have a good time.
Somewhere mid-monologue, a story from a past holiday in Oman, Sam stops speaking, smiles a big smile, and screams "Tim!"
A dark-haired guy, in his late twenties or early thirties, square-jawed, slim built and carefully dressed turns, beams in Sam's direction and comes our way. They hug and kiss each other's cheek (we are European, it is what we do). Tim had done a six-month stint at Sam's workplace a year ago. Sam had loved Tim from the get-go. He was funny, smart, caring, took initiative... all the things Sam likes in her colleagues.
She would rave at home about him: how happy she was that he was in her team, how she hoped he could stay, the books they had both read, the theories of psychology they both liked and disliked (she's a psychologist)... For a few months, he was her best friend and his name would be mentioned at the dinner table. A few weeks before he changed jobs he came to eat at our place and I got to know him as a very affable and attractive guy. I understood how Sam liked him.
Tim introduces himself to some people, shakes my hand warmly, holding on a bit longer than necessary. After a few minutes of how-have-you-been-and-where-do-you-work-now chit chat, the DJ plays a great song by the Strokes, and much of the party moves to the barely-lit dance floor. We dance together. We dance apart. Sam has this sexy dance where she dances seductively with me.
She becomes all swaying hips. Nothing dirty, just flirty and sexy, and then she leaves me and dances alone for a bit. Then she moves to dance with another girl or with another guy and does the same. It's all harmless fun. If I had a body like hers I'd do the same.
The Strokes get replaced by other 90s classics. Sam dances with me, with Tim, with other guys and girls. When a new DJ arrives the music changes, more soul, more funk, and more groove: Sam Cooke, Curtis Mayfield, James Brown. So we dance closer. More tender. While dancing close with Sam, she pushes and grinds her behind into my crotch.
Earlier she danced like a flirt, now there is a sexual charge. Tim appears in front of her. We sandwich her together. Two men friskily caress her svelte body. Just 10 seconds. My hands massage her butt and hips. His hands are on her side and shoulders. We move in unison together. I disengage, dance apart, They stay close. They touch each other, pet each other, and grind against each other.
A bit later Sam dances in my direction and pushes her body straight into mine. We move together. My upper leg is applying pressure on her nether region. Her breasts are on my chest. She brings her lips to my ear and in a husky voice, she says: "Can we take him home?" I lift an eyebrow, though, with her cheek on my cheek, there is no way she can see that. "Does he want to be taken home?" "I am sure he will want to if I ask it nicely." She says and gives me her faux-innocent look.
We do not often discuss threesomes, but I know this is something she would love to try, and tonight is as good a night as any.
"Cool," I whisper and kiss her neck.
She rubs her crotch some more on my upper leg. Kisses me and let's go. She circumnavigates some other dancers straight to Tim. They dance, they talk. He looks in my direction. An eyebrow shoots up. I give him a confirmation nod from across the room as if to say "If that is what she wants, we're good."
I turn and head for the bar. If we're going to do this, we may as well be tipsy. Three shots of vodka. One per person and off we go. Sam walks in between us and chirps about how she's so happy we're all getting along, that it was a beautiful party, and on and on. When she is just a bit nervous, she starts rattling, and she's rattling now.
Our apartment building has a small elevator, I hold the door open, Tim gets in first, then Sam and then me. I softly push Sam into Tim. She barely needs a push. Her lips aim for his lips her hands for his back. They kiss hungrily. I place my hands on her behind and squeeze her while pushing her crotch forward into him. I kiss her neck. She groans.
Getting into the apartment, they barely stop kissing. After closing the door, I kneel behind her and I kiss my way up from her calves and start sucking and massaging her butt. She moans again. When I am through working her butt cheeks, I get up and take her dress with me. She puts her arms up to accommodate me removing her dress. The dress drops to the floor.
Sam is wearing a light blue silk bra and matching panties. Tim and I go on massaging, kissing, and sucking her every bit from her calves up to fingertips. We suck, lick, nibble, bite, fondle and pinch every square centimeter of Sam.
She stands, moans in appreciation, and allows things to happen to her. From behind, my hand finds its way into the front of her panties. I find her clitoris and stroke it the way I know she likes it (two fingers, one on each side).