And so we gathered our things and stepped out into the cold night air. Once in our car, the conversation was as normal, my husband making openly sexual comments about his wish to see Harmony and I together and me dodging the topic with “whatever” and “keep dreaming”.
A few minutes later, we were walking up the stairs to her apartment. Her door opened before we could even knock.
“Hi you guys.” Smile. Sexy, disheveled…she’d just changed and had obviously not gotten to smoothing her hair back down after pulling her dress off and her t-shirt on…which was fine; it looked better messy anyway. And it was hard not to notice that she hadn’t put a bra on either. She had on a pair of mens boxers, faded navy blue, probably stolen, or kept, from a former boyfriend. On the couch, Cole and Dean and a few others from the restaurant were already pouring several glasses of wine. Cole stood up, grabbed two of the glasses and brought them over to us. Harmony took our coats and my purse and disappeared into another room with them. My husband and I sat down together on the love seat.
The conversation was lovely…politics, religion, sex…it ran the gamut from intense to dirty to intellectual…all the things a great conversation should be. Dean fell asleep on the floor in a pile of pillows, and several others trickled out the front door, leaving Cole and Harmony, my husband and I alone to finish the bottle of wine.
At this point in the evening, I was pretty much drunk, but not out of my mind. I was completely capable of continuing the conversation and continuing to open my mouth and say stupid things, which I promptly did.
“So my husband has a crush on you.” I looked at Harmony with a smile, so she knew it wasn’t the beginning of an accusation or a cat-fight. I felt my husband shift a bit uncomfortably beside me. I put my hand on his thigh to settle him, and he placed his hand on mine for better access at controlling what I might say next (a tight squeeze could easily translate as “shut the hell up…you have gone too far”).
“Oh really?” She didn’t seem to bothered. On the contrary, she smiled a little more sexily…if that’s possible. She was sitting on the floor, leaning on the coffee table in front of us, her bare legs propped to one side, looking every bit the curvy 50’s pin-up in shorts and a tight “T”. Cole leaned forward a bit more. He was interested. But what man wouldn’t be? The conversation was getting good.
In an effort to level the playing field, and maybe to get back at me a little, my husband let loose with, “And my wife has been enjoying more than just the food at the restaurant herself…been undressing you with her eyes for years, she has.” I smacked him playfully on the knee and gasped in mock offense, “I can’t believe you just said that!”
Cole laughed, and my cheeks burned. I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. My heart raced a bit as I wondered what course of action to take now. How to get out of this conversation? I was feeling a bit cornered. Harmony to the rescue: “Everyone wants a piece of Cole…we should just add him to the menu; it’s why half the women in this town come to the restaurant as much as they do.”
The conversation turned then, to other things I can’t remember. I do know I mentioned something about my shoulders aching, however, because Harmony offered to rub them for me. I bit my lip and glanced at my husband, eyebrows raised with a nervous smile. “Okay.” I said. We all continued to talk, as I slipped down to the floor in front of her. She got up onto her knees and brushed my hair over one shoulder. Her hands slipped around my neck and down my shoulders, her thumbs pressing into the softer spot between the blades. I let my neck fall forward and hummed a bit in pleasure. I loved having my back rubbed, by pretty much anyone. It was a weakness of mine. My mind wandered from the talk as I focused solely on her palms and fingers and thumbs moving lightly and pressing firmly up and down my spine, down to my lower back. To avoid interrupting the conversation, she whispered near my ear, “It’ll be easier to do this if you lay down on your stomach and pull off the top part of your dress.” I considered what she said briefly and then decided I’d had enough wine to accept this as simply something I’d forget by the next morning. So I unbuttoned the front of my dress and pulled my arms out of the sleeves. The guys both gazed in our direction with interest.
“I’m just trying to get a better grip on her back, guys! Quit looking at us like that!” Harmony laughed off their glances as I laid on my stomach on the soft Persian rug. I put my arms to my sides and tried to relax, as I felt her straddle me and sit on the back of my thighs. She continued her massage of my lower back, pulling my dress further and further down with the circular motion of her thumbs. She unhooked my bra and pushed the straps out of the way.
My attention left and entered the conversation between Cole and my husband, certain words catching me here and there. It didn’t take long for them to lose focus altogether on their own discussion and hone in solely on the activity in front of them.
“Now that is a beautiful thing…two sexy ladies, enjoying each other’s bodies,” remarked my husband. Cole replied to him, “Yeah it is…kind of makes you want to join in.” “Maybe we should,” ventured my husband. And to my surprise, Harmony responded, “Maybe you should.” Lying face down, back to all of them, I could hide the surprised look on my face, but not the fact that I’d stopped breathing beneath her warm, soft hands. Her hands squeezed my hips, and I breathed in again. No one said anything for a few minutes. And then I felt another pair of hands on my shoulder and a body leaning over my head. They were not my husband’s hands, and I felt my breath quicken with the knowledge that my “beautiful boy” was touching me. I closed my eyes and determined that I would not let myself be freaked out by this. It felt too good to be wrong. I felt Harmony’s weight leave my thighs and her hands slipped down the sides of my legs, stopping at my knees and traveling back up the insides of my legs, my dress being pushed up over my ass. Cole pulled my shoulders up and to the side to encourage me to roll over, which I did…to face Harmony, who was right there, shimmying her way, on her knees, in between mine. I sat up and pulled myself onto my knees, sitting on my feet. Cole, behind me, continued to rub my shoulders, and I pulled Harmony’s t-shirt up and over her head. Our lips met, sweet and soft; her tongue, warm, flicked over mine, and I sucked lightly on her bottom lip, the one with the swollen pout I always admired. I looked up to see my husband standing over her. I reached over her head to undo his belt and unbutton his fly, while she continued to lick and kiss my neck, so sensuously, slow, and subtle. I pulled my husband’s jeans down far enough to access his already hard cock. I pulled it out and slid my hands up and around it, cradling his balls. I whispered in Harmony’s ear.
“Suck him off. I want to watch you go down on him.”
She looked right into my eyes and licked her lips, then turned around and grabbed hold of my husband’s erect penis, slipping it into her mouth. She ran her tongue up the underside and around the tip. I leaned back against Cole’s chest. He must have taken off his shirt while I was busy with Harmony. He began teasing my nipples with his fingers and squeezing my breasts softly. I kept my eyes on Harmony, her head bobbing softly and slowly, my husband’s cock pushing out the sides of her cheeks, glistening with her spit. Occasionally, she’d glance back toward me. Cole and I sat behind her. I began to run my foot up and down the inside of her thigh, pushing my toes between her shorts and her skin. She moaned a little. And my husband moaned a little, which turned me on. Cole pulled back my hair and began kissing the back of my neck and I put my right hand behind me, searching out the zipper of his pants. Finding it, I unwrapped his package and slipped my hand around it, squeezing gently with a back and forth motion. He let his breath out in my ear. I felt the heat of it all the way down to my wet pussy.
- Eating Out (part one)
- Eating Out (part three)