Their Engagement Party

Kate hated small talk. She was the kind of woman who liked the idea of parties, but hated the effort of them. Sean, however, was exactly the opposite. He liked the idea of parties, but understood that small talk was a job to be done—often pleasant, sometimes slow and slogging, like a long march across a snow-covered field in the middle of a blizzard. Together, they made a well-matched pair.

"I might have to drink a little too much to get through it," Kate told Sean as they were getting ready in the bathroom.

"Well," Sean said, "don't drink so much that I can't have celebrate with my bride-to-be on my own when the party's done." He planted a kiss on the back of her neck that made her shiver and tingle.

"Don't worry," Kate said, leaning in to the mirror to apply her bright red lipstick."

"I like that shade," Sean said.

"I know you do. It's your favorite—whorehouse red."

"Baby, those are lips that I'd read anytime."

Kate mouthed to the mirror, looking into Sean's eyes through their reflections, "Fuck me."

"Be careful what you wish for," Sean said, cupping her breasts from behind.

Kate moaned, enjoying the feel of his strong hands caressing her large breasts. She was well-endowed, 36D, and was sometimes shy about showing her ample cleavage. It was summer time, and tonight she had put on a fairly simple red bra-top, its spaghetti straps and low-cut neck revealing her temping décolletage and the tops of her succulent, soft globes.

"You know I love my wife's big tits," Sean whispered saucily into her ear.

"Mmmm . . . I'm not your wife yet, baby."

"Soon enough."

"And are you still going to want to fuck your wife? Is it going to be as hot as just fucking your fiancée?"

"Better."

"I hope you still suck on my nipples when we're married."

"You know I will. Mmmm," Sean moaned, gently rolling her nipples through the synthetic fabric of her red top. "You know what would be hot? If we just popped these out in the middle of the party, showed everyone what I would be getting for the rest of my life—and that they would never see again."

Exposing Kate in public was a big fantasy for them. Although they had never done it, they had talked about it a lot, usually while Sean was fucking Kate missionary, and just before Sean would come inside his lovely fiancée.

"Wouldn't you get jealous if all those guys—all your friends—saw my big tits?"

"Maybe. And maybe you'd just lose control if you saw all their dicks getting hard in their pants from looking at your big tits."

"Maybe," Kate cooed, getting into it. "But if I did, then I guess you'd just be marrying a slut, wouldn't you be?"

"Maybe," Sean said, leaning down, around her body and taking a nipple into his mouth.

Kate enjoyed the warmth and wetness of Sean's mouth. Her nipples—both—hardened even further. She felt her pussy grow wetter—that familiar sensation she had know since 12 of her body taking matters into her own hands. She loved the slight loss of control her arousal always implied; how her body would suddenly flip these invisible switches, diverting her conscious thoughts to a track of pure wantonness. "Mmmm, she though, "I should let Sean eat me right now, have a nice little come just before the party."

Her good-girl self interrupted—"No! And if you keep this up, you'll be late for your own party!"

"So what," the bad-girl Kate chimed in, "At least I'll arrive with a sexy rosy glow!"

But the good-girl side won out; Kate regained control of her growing clit and dampening cleft. "Wait—wait," she said, "we're going to be late," and pulled her nipple away from her greedily nursing fiancé.

"We'll finish this later," he promised her.

"We better," she said with a sly smile.

The party was being given for them by one of Kate's college friends. She and her husband had a nice home just outside Washington in a comfortable suburb called Chevy Chase. Five bedrooms, backyard, garage—classic suburban living. The party began at eight, and when Kate and Sean arrived, there were already a good number of people there, mostly local friends, work friends, and friends from school who were in the area. They were all either late twenties or early twenties; some with spouses in tow, some with significant others, some still single. The buzz was light and easy; it was late July and the weather was warm but not sticky. The air was fresh; it was the kind of summer's night where one believed one could live forever in happiness and youth, shinning like the stars and constellations above.

Helping out that buzz was a considerable amount of alcohol and a few joints of marijuana, slowly making their way around the party.

Toasts to the happy couple lead to shots. The shots lead to drinking games, and the drinking games lead to turning the music up and dancing.

When yuppies dance, it is important that they either be inebriated or in a state of at least slight inebriation. This is not for all yuppies, for women dancing is always a sight of beauty and erotic delight. But dancing for yuppies is always best when no one is paying much attention, and everyone is feeling light and groovy.

"Congratulations, Sean," said Kate's work friend Bridget. Bridget had the office next to Kate and a fresh divorce. She was wearing a tight black bodysuit, showing off the modest curves of her chest, and a flirty, white pleated skirt. She walked over to the couple on her three-inch sandals, teetered close enough to Sean that she almost lost her balance and had to put her hand on her arm to steady herself. She kept it there, holding onto his firm bicep while she planted a kiss—not on his cheek, but directly on his lips, long and hard enough that her lipstick—pixie pink—came off on Sean.

"Thanks," Sean said, not noticing that Kate was watching from across the room.

"You guys are such a great pair," Bridget cooed. Sean could smell the alcohol on her breath. There had been a heated game of Flip-Cup earlier, and Bridget's team had lost—big time.

"Thanks."

"I know you're going to be so happy together."

"Thanks," Sean said, wholly laconic at that moment but sensing her, the way male animals in the wild sense female animals in the wild.

Bridget paused there, her eyes waiting for—Sean knew exactly what, and realized that Bridget was have drunk just enough for her inhibitions to be lowered to the point that she was approach him so suddenly, in this backyard, at his own engagement party.

Sean was buzzed just enough that he didn't know what to say, but realized, as if it had happened in a distant place, that his hand was resting casually on his hip.

After the silence continued on, awkwardly, Bridget broke it:

"Well, give me a hug. Congratulations." She embraced him and he could feel her pressing her breasts against his chest and the electric promise of her feminity. He hugged her back, wishing he knew what to do in these moments. She walked away and he saw Kate sitting on a wicker couch on the back porch. She was in a group of seven or eight, and they were all laughing very animatedly. The couch was only really made for two, but Kate was sandwiched in between two of Sean's friends from law school—Dave and Mike. Dave was slightly older, unmarried, but with a serious girlfriend back in New York where he lived. Mike was Sean's age and chronically single.

Sean went inside to use the bathroom. When he came out, Kate was there on the couch, still between Dave and Mike. The group of eight was still there, telling the dirtiest jokes they knew and laughing uproariously. As Sean got there, perching himself on the arm of a wicker chair that his co-worker Molly was sitting in (or, to be precise, the chair which Molly's husband Brian was sitting in; Molly was sitting on his lap).

Brian was just finishing telling a joke, delivering the punchline:

"I'll just hold her buy her ears until she gets the hang of it,"

which sent everyone collapsing into hysterics. Molly had a joint, which she passed to Sean, who toked it and passed it to—he wasn't sure—was this guy someone's boyfriend, maybe?

Sean noticed that Kate, laughing along with everyone else, let her hand touch Mike's leg, just above his knee. He thought nothing of it—just a friendly kind of touch.

"Hey!" one of the women in the group said, "now that the groom to be is here, let's go do some body shots!"

Out came the salt, out came the tequila, out came the limes. The couple each did body shots off each other, and then they each did one off some of the single people around. Then everyone started doing body shots off each other. The tequila on top of the weed and the beer was pushing everyone beyond a limit. Sean could see Kate was definitely having a good time—her usual standoffishness at parties was over. She was being outgoing, playful, laughing and kidding with everyone.

Sean last saw Kate as she was dancing with Bridget, they were demonstrating the worst thing about their single lives—strange men grinding on them at nightclubs. After that, Sean found himself in an interesting discussion of which Supreme Court Justice it would be most fun to get high with.

Usually, John Marshall was the hand-down winner, but this time the recently deceased William Rehnquist was making a strong showing in second place.

"I'd love to see Rehnquist just fucked up," Sean's friend Yeager said. "I'll bet Billy R would go wild with some quality bong hits."

"Scalia?"

"He'd get too paranoid."

"Thomas?"

"Too pervy."

"O'Connor?"

"Too ugly. But I'd bet she'd fuck like a demon on E."

It was around this point that Sean was wondering where Kate was. He didn't see her in the backyard. He looked through the rooms on the downstairs of the house—not these either. Molly and her husband were now necking rather openly on a sofa in the living room.

Sean wanted to watch, and, in truth, lurked in the corner far too long for politeness, watching them. Molly moaned as their tongues intertwined, her eyes closed, savoring the intensity of the moment. Well, that's one marriage that's working, Sean thought.

He, somewhat shyly, rubbed the crotch of his pants, stroking his growing erection. He could see that Brian had one hand inside his wife's partially unbuttoned blouse, and was cupping her small tit, and squeezing it like a stress ball. From the sounds Molly was making, the stress being relived was certainly her own.

Although, a new stress was building for Sean, one that he'd like to relieve—and thought, he just would relieve here, at their friends house—as soon as he found his fiancée.

Tearing himself away from the groping couple, Sean checked the downstairs bathroom, but Kate wasn't in the bathroom, either.

Sean decided he's try the upstairs. He walked, somewhat bleary, up the creaky wooden steps of this suburban colonial. He saw the upstairs hallways bathroom was empty, as was the first bedroom he passed. The master bedroom was also empty.

Sean walked down the hall the last room. The door had been left slightly ajar. In typical caution, he peeked through the small opening.

There was Kate—her blonde bobbed head bobbing up and down. Although Sean could only see the top of her head, there was no doubt in his mind about what she was doing. The subtle slurping sounds, coupled with a low masculine moaning made it all too clear. Sean's wife-to-be was giving another man a blowjob.

A million emotions rushed through Sean in an instant. He wanted to run away—he wanted to see everything. He wanted to stop this instantly—and he wanted to watch.

His erection decided for him.

He nudged the door open a little further and could see into the room. A dim lamp lit the scene and provided the sultry mood. There was Kate—there was his fiancée—on her knees. Sean could see the bottoms of her open-towed red slides, her favorite pair, a casual but sexy heel that she adored. Her head moved up and down; Sean could see her back and her red bra-top. Her clothes were still on, and Sean could see her sexy back.

So this is what it looks like, Sean thought. So this is what my wife looks like when she gives me head.

Sean could now see who Kate was blowing. Mike had his head back and his eyes clothes. He was sitting on an old couch, Kate was kneeling in front of him, sucking him in good time.

That's the rhythm she uses to blow me, Sean realized. Mike seemed to be enjoying it, too.

Pushing the door open a little further, Sean saw that Kate and Mike weren't alone. Dave was sitting close by in an armchair. His shorts were down, his right hand was stroking his cock in time to Kate's sucks. His eyes were rapt; his attention focused on Kate's mouth as it took Mike's dick.

As Sean watched, Kate lifted her head off of Mike's cock and gently turned herself ninety-degrees to face Dave and casually began to take Dave's tall, erect cock into her mouth.

"Oh yeah," Dave moaned. "God you're good."

"Yeah, we know why Sean's marrying you," Mike told her.

Kate smiled as best as she could with Dave's cock in her mouth and kept sucking. She reached out and took Mike's cock in her hand and stroked it, holding onto Dave's cock with the other, her hand and mouth creating a nice long strong on Dave's manhood.

Just how I like it, thought Sean.

He watched his sexy wife-to-be fellate these men—these friends of his. He saw the million erotic details he could never enjoy when she would give him head. They sexy, tight shape of her back. The plump fullness of her ass, resting on her heels, sometimes moving in rhythm with her cocksucking. The pure womaness of her thighs and calves, her sexy shoes bouncing along with her motion.

She moved off of Dave's cock, stretched out her jaw for a second, and then dove back down onto Mike's throbbing member.

No doubt about it—Sean was full of fear and worry and pure, animal lust. His cock was fully erect, and he squeezed his dick through his khaki pants, a slave to his own desire for the slut that would soon be his lawfully wedded wife.

Dave and Mike didn't seem to be the dirty-talk addicts like Sean had become. Sean wondered what he would do if they stated telling Kate that she was a slut. She was tonight, wasn't she? Sean had to admit it; although this had been a fantasy they had sometimes discussed—never naming the anonymous dicks Sean would watch her suck off—it was now a reality. And it was hot. Very, very hot.

"Oh my god I'm gonna come," Dave said, stroking himself. "Can I—can I—"

Before he could finish his question, Kate's mouth left Mike and planted itself on Dave's meat, furiously sucking, her head bobbing up and down at lightspeed.

Davie grunted and groaned, make the most painful faces, and Sean knew exactly what was happening.

Well, at least there'll be no mess that way, he thought.

Kate slowed down her rhythm; Dave's hands on her bare, delicate shoulders were possessory, but then, it was in many ways an act of possession, coming in a girl's mouth, possessing her powerful sexuality, if only for a moment.

Before they could finish and catch their breath, Mike stood, took a half step towards Kate, and, hand yanking his cock, shot his load of semen across her pink cheek. Kate's mouth still sucked onto Dave's prick, Mike's jizz blasted her, some sticking, some ricocheting off her cute face. Another blast shot over the bridge of her nose. A final blast—mostly droplets—splattered everywhere, like a shotgun blast. Face, hair, neck, shoulders—all took a little of the come of this man who's bride she was not to be.

As all the tension in the room eased away, Kate took her mouth off Dave's cock. They all let out a laugh, Kate's laugh was girlish and free. She dipped an elegant index finger into the gooey mess on her face, and sucked that finger into her mouth, making eye contact with Mike and Dave in turn as she did so.

"Mmmm, it really does taste different," she said with a beaming smile.

As Ken stood undiscovered in the doorway, he knew the possibilities were endless.