party girl

party girl”Was it worth waiting for?”I turned and mimed applause. She was an image of coolelegance, slender in a snug-fitting black slip dress.No stockings — with her olive skin, she didn’t needthem.As I helped her into her coat, I realized that thedress was *all* she was wearing; the dress was thinenough that I would have noticed a bra strap or pantylines.I swallowed. “Are you *sure* you want to go the party?I could call Rob and give him our regrets, and we couldsettle down here…”She cut me off with a laugh. “Down boy! Public partyfirst, private party later.” She danced lightly out ofrange of my mock grab, and laughed again.= = =I offered her my arm as walked towards the house.Though we were early, the closer parking was alreadytaken. Laughter drifted around from the terrace in therear.”Remember, don’t let me drink too much.” Her expressionwas half serious.Shelly has almost no capacity for drinking — even aglass of wine turns her giddy; it also tends to makeher very, very, horny. More than two, though, and shegets sleepy, almost comatose.I laughed at her, “One or two, no more. I have plansfor you, my dear.” She made a face back at me as I puton my best leer.I *would* keep an eye on her, not that she usuallyneeds it; she’d learned the hard way how littletolerance her body has for drinking.= = =A young man, one of the college boys Rob had hired tohelp with the party, let us in. After a brief detourupstairs to leave the coats in one of the sparebedrooms, we threaded our way through the mob in theliving room to join the even larger mob on the terrace.There must have been over 50 people there already.Rob waved us a welcome without interrupting his con-versation; we waved back, and moved on. Most of theguests were people I didn’t recognize.”Do you want to dance?”Shelly shook her head. “Maybe later. I’d like to cir-culate a bit and meet people, first.”Wine glasses in hand, we did just that. Before long,a female friend claimed her, and I wandered over tojoin the group listening to the band. Looking back,I could see the two women now had several men inattendance.Somehow, I found myself roped into a heated politicaldiscussion, the kind that usually ends with somevariation of “I guess they’re *all* crooks!” I didn’tget to hear the end of this one, though — just as itstarted to reach the loud stage, Shelly reappeared andpulled me out onto the dance floor.Though she was enjoying herself, she wasn’t dancingwith her usual careful restraint. I took in herflushed expression and raw, almost predatory, dancingstyle with a frown.”Shelly, just how much wine did you drink?”She giggled at my worried expression. “I know, I know,I’ve had all the wine I need. Don’t worry, dear — Ionly had two glasses, and I’m switching kütahya escort to punch afterthis. You’d better switch, too — you’re going to needall your strength later.”Though she tried her best, Shelly’s face isn’t reallybuilt for dirty leers. Though I was delighted by thesentiment, it took all my willpower not to laugh ather.Instead, I steered her towards the buffet. She wasn’thungry, but did accept a tall glass of the milky-looking orange punch. She sipped, then took a muchbigger drink.”This is good!”I *did* laugh at the pleased surprise in her voice,and got a glass for myself. I had to agree with her –it *was* good: creamy, mildly orange flavored, andslightly fizzy. I sipped mine slowly, then laughedagain when I saw that she had finished her first glassand was asking for a refill.”Ready to go home, Shelly?””Let me sit down and listen to the music for a while.And you can help yourself to some of the food that Isee you drooling over.” She laughed back at me as mystomach gave a rumble.I walked her to the nearest seat before returning tothe buffet. She gave me her empty glass to take back.”What was in that punch? My wife really likes it.”The bartender gave a shrug. “Nothing hard to find — aquart of orange sherbet, a big bottle of ginger ale,two bottles of cheap sparkling wine.”I suddenly lost all interest in the buffet. Even atthat dilution, Shelly had just finished the equivalentof at least three more normal-sized glasses of wine. IfI didn’t get her home soon I’d have to carry her.Even in the short time I’d been gone, it had started toaffect her. She swayed visibly when she stood, andclung to my arm desperately as I led her back towardsthe house.”I need to lie down for a while. I’m sorry, honey. Ididn’t mean to make such an idiot of myself.” Her voicewas muted and more than a little slurred.”Shh, sweetheart. Not your fault. Can you stay awakelong enough for me to get you home?””I’ll try.” Her voice sounded doubtful.Rob must have a sixth sense – he met us before we’dcovered half the distance to the house and took herother arm.”What happened?””Your punch – she didn’t know it was spiked. I need toget her somewhere to lie down.”He looked thoughtful. “If we can get her up the stairs,the spare bedroom next to the coatroom is empty. If shedoesn’t feel better later, you can spend the nighthere.”Despite our worries, Shelly stayed awake long enough tomake it to the bedroom. With a final, worried look,Rob headed back down.”Will you be all right, honey?”She managed a sleepy smile. “I’ll be fine after anap, sweetheart. Give me an hour or two and I’ll feelbetter. Just turn out the lights and let me sleep tillthen.” She kicked off her shoes and scooted onto thebed.When I checked on her ten minutes escort kütahya later, she was soundasleep, she didn’t even stir when I tugged her dressdown to a more decent level; it had risen enough toconfirm my guess about her lack of underwear. I gaveher a gentle kiss and headed downstairs to enjoy thefestivities. We obviously weren’t going anywhere fora while.= = =Though I tried, I was too distracted to really enjoythe party. Rather than just wander aimlessly, I tookover the indoor bar; it had the benefit of keeping metoo busy to brood. Over the next couple of hours, thecrowd shifted gradually outside, till only a small,all-male group was left, dividing their attention be-tween the bar and the television in the far corner.As the demand on the bar slowed, I had time to noticea minor oddity; guys would head upstairs, be gone fora while, then return to the main group. I shrugged;probably just looking for an open bathroom I thought.Seemed kind of a long way to go, though.Finally, one of the college boys relieved me. I headedup to check on Shelly. At the foot of the stairs, thedoorman flagged me down. I paused.”How’s your wife?””I was just heading up to check on her.””If she’s feeling better, you might want to get herhome. Some of these boys are getting a little raunchy.I heard someone say there’s a woman pulling a train inone of the spare bedrooms. If you stay, you’ll have tolisten to them boasting all night long. Or Rob tryingto calm them down.”That explained the back and forth traffic I’d beenseeing. But he was right; she’d be better off at home.I started up the stairs.At the top of the stairs, I shook my head wryly; some-where, a woman was moaning. I passed the coatroom andturned the corner.I noticed that Shelly’s light was on, and the door wasajar. But I was in the doorway before I realized thatthe moans were coming from her room.After an endless moment of shocked paralysis, I rushedforward. I hadn’t the time – or the mental clarity –to form a coherent plan; I was operating on the levelof reflex. And it was pure reflex that bludgeoned meto a horrified halt in the doorway.From the door, I could only see the back of the man whohad mounted her, his pants puddled around his ankles.What held me frozen, though, was the sight of Shelly’sbare feet hooked into her favorite position behind hisknees, urging him in. Her face was contorted in herfamiliar, just-before-orgasm rictus; moments later herheels locked in place and her moans changed to thechoked whimper that signals her release. Before she hadcompletely finished, a much deeper groan signaled his.Almost immediately, he was on his feet and pulling hispants up. He showed no surprise when he turned and sawme in the doorway; probably, kütahya escort bayan he took me for the next inline. With a friendly nod, he brushed past me and outbefore I could get my frozen muscles to respond.Shelly lay naked on the bed, her dress a wadded-up ballbeside the pillow. Her face had relaxed again; eyesclosed, she seemed at least half asleep. Her cheststill had a faint, post-orgasmic flush to it and herdark nipples were erect. I gave a shuddering gasp andstepped forward, closing the door behind me.Not too surprisingly, the whole room reeked of sex. AsI walked closer, I could see a white stream of semenrunning from the swollen lips of her vagina. Evennow, she didn’t seem to be aware of me.”Shelly!”No response.”*Shelly!*”When I shook her, her eyes remained closed, though shedid mumble something that might have been my name.I began to tremble with rage as I stood beside the bed.I could see it all, playing like a movie inside myhead: The first man stumbling in to find Shelly asleep,her dress above her hips once more.His embarrassment changing to arousal.Knowing Shelly, she was probably already wet — and hernormal sleeping response is to spread her legs ininvitation.His acceptance.If she’s already aroused, Shelly can respond, evenorgasm, without fully waking. I’m sure she gave him agreat ride.And since she was so eager, he probably couldn’t resistbragging to a friend or two. Of course, they had tocheck it out. And brag in turn.I tried to remember how many men I’d seen make thetrip up the stairs. Five? More? I couldn’t be sure;some had gone up more than once. At a minimum, her bodyhad been taken – ****d – by half a dozen men.I stared down at her nude body. Even now, she was solovely that it hurt. Her legs were flexed and slightlyspread, framing her ravished pussy. Though her innerlips were still swollen and slightly agape, the pink ofher core was hidden by the white stream that oozed downto form an obscene pool beneath her.My fists and my jaw were so tightly clenched they werepainful. I tried to think of what to do. Tell Rob. Callthe police. Try to avoid attacking the men responsible.Thank God she was on the pill. Take her to the doctor.I thought some more. Could we prove ****? I had onlyseen one of them with her. And he could claim; truth-fully – that she had enjoyed it. Would the police evenbother to file charges? Was Shelly willing to dealwith the smear campaign their lawyers would hand out?I reluctantly decided that she’d be happier if I keptquiet. She could deal with this – to her, it would beno more than a half-recalled erotic dream; notorietyand a trial we might not win would be the problem.(“Deal with it? She had *enjoyed* it!”) a nasty cornerof my mind whispered. One of her hands had slippeddown and was sleepily caressing her slit. With feelingof self-loathing, I realized that I was erect andthrobbing. I wrapped my beautiful young wife up withthe bedspread and carried her down stairs to our car…The party was over as far as we were concerned.