"Happy New Year!"
"Happ… Happy New Year!"
Vicki seemed to be floating on a pleasant, euphoric cloud, and she realized fully for the first time that she was extremely drunk. It was such a good feeling to be very drunk, she thought; why hadn't she gotten drunk more often if the feeling was this good? She felt strong hands pulling her to her feet, and strong arms encircle her, and she saw the smiling face of her husband before her eyes. She brought her arms up and clung to Kirk's neck as he kissed her, opening her mouth eagerly to accept his tongue. She wantonly rubbed her breasts against his chest, enjoying the feeling of sensuality which the liquor had sent rippling through her body and the embrace of Kirk had magnified; she could feel his penis, pressing against her abdomen, jerk slightly in his pants, and she knew he was aroused by her passionate kiss.
But then a voice said close to her, "How about a kiss for your employer, my dear?" Vicki and Kirk broke apart, and she giggled as she saw Eric affect a mock pout at her ignoring of him; he seemed to be feeling the effects of the evening's liquor consumption as well.
She took a step forward, putting her hands boldly on his shoulders, and said, "Of course, you can have a kiss, Eric!"
He gathered her into his arms, and his mouth closed over hers, lightly at first and then more ardently as she responded to his expert movements. His breath smells sweet and warm even with the odor of liquor on it, she thought numbly as she kissed him. And he really knows how to kiss… his lips are so soft… oh I feel so wicked, letting my boss kiss me this way with my husband standing right there, but after all it is New Year's Eve and there's no harm that will come of it…
Suddenly, Eric's mouth pressured hers open wide and his tongue slipped along her wetly parted lips, darted inside to meet hers. Vicki felt a tremor of excitement course through her at such familiarity, and instead of being angered or frightened, she was oddly responsive to his invasion of her mouth. She clung to him almost as passionately as she had clung to her husband moments earlier, and allowed his moistly flicking tongue to fill her mouth for a long moment, swirling round and round her own, before she drew back, giggling, to break the embrace…
As soon as his wife had begun kissing Eric Kaye, Kirk had immediately turned toward the voluptuous Christy; what the hell? he thought with the lack of inhibition the champagne and brandy had combined to bring about, there wasn't anything wrong with kissing a beautiful and exciting temptress like Christy Kaye, not if her husband was standing right there kissing his wife, now was there? Besides, he was feeling pretty damned high – maybe he couldn't hold the booze as well as he'd thought, not that it mattered much one way or another – and just looking at Christy during the evening had made him desirous of even so little as a simple kiss. In fact, he had been secretly hoping that he would have an opportunity such as this when midnight arrived; those full sensuous lips of hers glistened invitingly, and she had the damnedest habit of moistening them constantly with the tip of her little pink tongue, making you want to taste them more and more each time you looked at them.
Christy was smiling when he turned to her, and her eyes said that she knew what he wanted to do and that it was all right. She opened her arms to him, and he pressed in close to her, feeling the taut, hard-nippled firmness of her breasts brand his chest hotly, even with the silver lame gown and his suit between their bare flesh. Then his lips were on hers, and her tongue flickered into his mouth to fuse with his, teasing along the ridged roof and over his teeth.
Holy Christ! Kirk thought with surprise. She really knows how to French-kiss! I'll bet she's something wild in the sack… I'll bet she lets Eric go down on her, and I'll bet she goes down on him, too… Christ, it must be nice to have a wife who's really a happy slut in bed, who isn't afraid to experiment and try new positions, new ways… Vicki's a damned beautiful woman, and I love her, but all she wants is Western style, no oral sex and no experimentation… she's just static when it comes to love-making… that Goddamned old lady of hers was the problem, all right, with all the moralistic crap about sex being only for procreation and not to be enjoyed for its own sake…
Christy's hot, probing tongue began to flash in and out of Kirk's mouth as if she was trying to rape him with it, and he felt his penis give an involuntary leap of arousal. The silver blonde seemed to sense his passion, and wantonly ground her pelvis tighter against his loins, moving her hips in a lewd circular motion. Christ in heaven, what was she doing? Kirk thought with liquored confusion. It was almost as if she was trying to screw him standing up, right there with all their clothes on! Hell, she dry-fucked better than Vicki actually made love, and his eagerly throbbing cock was almost erect from her erotic movements against him.
But then, abruptly, Christy withdrew her tongue from his mouth and pulled back, smiling sultrily at him with her smoky eyes half-lidded. She smoothed the lame gown with the palms of her hands, as she had done earlier. Kirk released several short breaths, flushed guiltily at the bulge along the light leg of his trousers and darted a look to see if Vicki had noticed his excitement. But she was laughing merrily as Eric put one of the little party hats on her head, and Kirk breathed a sigh of relief. After a moment, his penis returned to its normal state, and he tried to push the incident out of his mind. It couldn't have meant anything anyway, he told himself; but the way she'd turned on like that meant Christy Kaye was sure to be ready for a screwing any time, anywhere, and it probably didn't take more than a pat on the fanny to set her sex fires to burning.
They sang Auld Lang Syne, loudly and off-key, and then convulsed into gales of laughter, blowing on the party favors and noisemakers which Eric had produced just before midnight. Kaye poured them all more champagne, and they continued to drink until Christy suggested they dance.
Kirk and Vicki nodded enthusiastic approval of the idea, and Eric put a mood music tape Gleason's Music for Lovers – on a tape deck located in an impressive bank of stereo components behind a sliding panel in one wall. Vicki and Kirk danced together for awhile, as did Eric and Christy, and then they changed partners; the changing seemed the most natural thing in the world to Vicki, who rested her raven head against Eric Kaye's shoulder and allowed him to pull her close.
As they moved slowly on the azure carpet, Vicki thought drowsily: this is one of the most wonderful evenings I've ever spent… so happy and beautiful and perfect, being with the two closest men in my life – my husband and my boss… oh I don't want tonight to ever end…
Kirk's thoughts as he held Christy tightly in the fold of his arms were of a different nature. He tried to concentrate on the music, tried to keep from dwelling on the warm softness of the provocative woman in his embrace, but it was futile. His mind was filled with lewd thoughts of Christy Kaye: how she would look and feel nakedly spread out beneath him with the silver hair tangled in his fingers while he fucked into the tightness of her cunt again and again. His restlessly stirring cock ached with a growing lust, and it was rising again into half-erectness from the contact of her abdomen beneath the silver gown.
He told himself again and again that such thoughts were wrong, that he was somehow mentally cheating on his wife by even thinking them. He knew his face and neck were flushed red, and he knew that his pulsating penis could be felt by Christy; what was she thinking? he wondered. Surely she knew what was on his mind, feeling his long thick cock nudging against her loins. Was she secretly laughing at him? Or, somehow, was she attracted to him? That could be it; else, why hadn't she pulled back at the feel of his hard-on? Jesus, what would she do if he made a pass at her? Would she slap his face, or would she…?