This is my entry for the Winter Holidays contest. If you like it, give it a good rating!
For the people following me from Loving Wives, this is in the Group sex category, and it belongs there. While there is a married couple in it, they're not the main focus, and they're happily, consensually nonmonogamous. Just a word of warning.
----------------------------------------
Ty and Kylie had a nice kitchen. A nice house, truth be told, but the kitchen really was a standout: stainless steel everything, marble countertops, and an impressive cookware collection hanging on the rack over the island. Great view out the bay window overlooking the city, too. In other circumstances, I'd have been surprised that Alyssa didn't pepper them with questions about their setup. To be fair, she was pretty distracted.
They had comfortable robes, too, the soft, thick kind you get at a luxury resort. The one I wore hung off me, making me look a bit like an understuffed scarecrow. I assume it belonged to Ty; I'd grabbed it out of the bathroom down the hall. Kind of rude, I know, but I hadn't actually gotten a chance to ask. I'm not sure exactly how I would have asked, for that matter.
"Pardon me, sorry to be a bother, but could you stop railing the shit out of my girlfriend for a moment? I'm afraid I've completely lost my erection and I'm freezing. Do you have a robe I could borrow? Thanks! As you were."
Instead, while our hosts enthusiastically entertained themselves with my girlfriend, I slunk out of the room to go mope at their kitchen table, feeling like a total pussy all along. Feeling like? No, let's be honest here: being a total pussy.
This was not how I'd hoped to ring in the new year.
The night started off promisingly enough. Alyssa had snagged tickets to an exclusive New Year's Eve party, and she'd dressed to kill. She always looked amazing, but the form fitting red dress perfectly highlighted her curves, and the plunging neckline certainly reminded me of what drew me to her in the first place.
That might sound horribly objectifying--and it is--but Alyssa had incredible tits, the kind any teenaged boy would lust after, and I was scarcely more than that when we met. But her killer body, like I said, was just what drew my attention. Admittedly, next came her freckled, pretty girl-next-door face and pale blue eyes, framed by long blonde curls. For the party that night, she'd put those curls into an immaculate updo, but normally she wore them loose or, at most, in a ponytail when she worked out.
That was her in a nutshell: gorgeous, but unaffected. Her physical features drew me in, but it was her sweetness that had me hooked. Not naivete; it's easy to confuse one for the other, and Alyssa's wholesome appearance made it even easier. When she and I met in junior year of college, though, she'd already had far more than her share of life experiences, including sexual ones.
Which, I suppose, is how we get back to the beginning of this story. We got to the party fashionably late. While I couldn't hold a candle to Alyssa, I'd cleaned up well. I'm tall and athletic, with blonde hair and blue eyes. I once received the backhanded compliment that I was "handsome, if you like that surfer boy type," which is funny, since I can't stand the beach. You add all that to Alyssa's extensive efforts to make me look at least somewhat fashionable, and the two of us turned quite a few heads.
Ty and Kylie turned even more, though. Ty's a big dude, built like a running back, which he was in college. I'm not bi--not even going as far as heteroflexible--but even I had to admit he was handsome as hell, with a ready grin and an affable manner. It's easy for a guy like that to come off as arrogant or intimidating, but he was never anything but pleasant. Well, pleasant and flirtatious; as soon as Alyssa expressed even the slightest interest in Ty, he'd flirted outrageously with her.
It might have pissed me off if I hadn't been so busy flirting with his wife. Kylie neatly complemented her husband: short where he was tall, olive-skinned where he was dark, slim where he was buff. While Kylie had a beautiful long mane of jet black hair, her husband's bald head almost gleamed under the lights on the dancefloor. And where Ty was very obviously Black, I couldn't place Kylie's heritage at all, although she later told me she was a mix of Dutch, Thai, and Italian.
Over the course of the night, I learned a lot about the two of them: they were married and had been for years; they met in college like Alyssa and I had, albeit both as college athletes rather than in a study group; and both of them wanted to fuck us. While they didn't quite have an open marriage, preferring to be in the room or at least under the same roof when their spouse was otherwise engaged, they'd been swinging, swapping, and sharing for almost as long as they'd been together.
We chatted, flirted, danced, and drank. Our foursome split discreetly--and discretely, for that matter--into twosomes in all the different possible arrangements, each at what seemed like the perfect times. The girls danced together while the guys watched them and chatted first, then we danced with our significant others. Alyssa and I teased each other about our respective infatuations, but there was an undercurrent: we both could tell where this was likely to go, and neither of us exercised our veto.
Next, I danced with Kylie, while Ty and Alyssa did the same. Ty turned out to be very light on his feet for such a big man; I had to admit he was a better dancer than me. But Kylie was better than Alyssa, too, and since the role of a man when dancing is to make his partner look better, she made my job easy. Easier, anyways; the way she slid against me as she flirted, going as far as pressing herself against me and softly moaning, meant at least part of me moved stiffly.
The girls went to the restroom while Ty and I got fresh drinks, and afterwards, Kylie and I sat together for a while and watched our significant others dance a bit more. I felt a little pang of jealousy at the way she looked up at him, and even more when he leaned down and whispered in her ear. She blushed, or perhaps flushed, a bright red, then nodded enthusiastically.
Kylie caressed my leg with her fingertips and leaned in to whisper in my ear. "What do you think Ty asked her, Justin?"
My lips wouldn't form the words, so she filled them in for me with a chuckle. "He's asked her if she'd like to come home with us, as long as it wouldn't cause trouble between you two. And she nodded, didn't she?" Her fingernail slid up my stomach and chest, coming to rest on my chin before she pulled my gaze to hers. "And you? Would you like to come home with us? With me? I've had a lovely night, and it seems a shame to end it now, but..."
She smiled seductively. "Well, I'd rather end it on a good note than a bad one, so no pressure. This could just be some flirting and fun, and then you could go home and ravish that pretty little thing of yours. Or you could come home with us, and we could end it on a real high note. From what Kylie was saying while you boys were at the bar, it sounds like you can make a girl really sing when you want to."
I nodded, finally finding my voice with a hoarse, "Yes."
Her nose wrinkled when she laughed. "'Yes, you can make a girl sing,' or 'yes, you'd like to come back to our place?' Or both?" She laughed even harder as she watched my mouth open and close before leaning in for a long, deep kiss. "Mmmm, I'm going to assume both."
Kylie glanced over at Ty and Alyssa on the dancefloor and nodded. Ty grinned. Alysa beamed gratefully. This was going to be great. We were going to have an awesome time.
Yeah. Right.
So stupid.
"What's stupid?"
My hostess stood there, head tilted, with a friendly, questioning look on her face. The robe she wore looked much better on her, but almost anything would probably look amazing on her. I had no idea at her age, other than a brief mention that she and Ty had been together for years and had met at college. Between her Asian heritage and her incredibly fit body, though, I couldn't have pinned it down any better than "older than twenty-five and younger than forty-five."
"Oh, uh, nothing. I was just thinking about something. Didn't realize I was speaking."
She didn't buy it. One corner of her mouth quirked up as she said, "Mmm hmm. If you say so." Kylie glided closer to me; a sheen of moisture glistened on her thighs, just below the hem of her robe. My mind went back to her kneeling astride Alyssa's face, moaning, eyes closed, as my girlfriend greedily feasted on her new lover's quim. Then my mind's eye descended Aly's body and...
Kylie's smile turned from gently mocking to concerned at my slight wince. She sat next to me and placed her hand on my thigh. Her touch wasn't meant to arouse, but to comfort. "Hey. Justin. Hey. It's okay. I promise, it's going to be okay."
I tried to put a brave face on. "What is?"
