Willow

She was stiff as we began dancing, which seemed odd, because she moved with such ease, her tall willowy body moving through the crowd as if floating. I had been watching her for some time, waiting for a chance to talk to her without a gaggle of guys around. But she was the kind of girl to attract a crowd, and she did. Then, as the party moved along, she was getting more available, and soon we were dancing. But, as I said, she was stiff, and I soon determined it was because she was waiting for me to make a clumsy move on her, moves that she had been ducking all night. She relaxed a bit as the hit didn’t come, and she confided in me her situation. She was here alone. Her husband worked for the host, and he would be here as soon as his flight allowed. She was here representing him, in a way. Brad felt he should have a presence here, and she was it.. Since coming in the door alone she had to face nothing but advances, if only trying to force a drink on her.. I bet she had. I might have made one myself if her body language hadn’t warned me. It wasn’t specifically that kind of party, but most people here were those kind of people. I am. I was alone too, my wife Carrie visiting her mother.

“It seems to me,” I commiserated, “that what you need is a decoy, someone you can trust that you can wait out the evening with who will fend off unwanted advances. May I volunteer?”
“Is this a come-on?”
“Trust me, but for it to work, it must appear that we are getting on, that there is no hope of getting between us. I think it would help if you relaxed and just dance with me.”

She laughed and did relax, and she was moving with the grace and ease that had first attracted me. “I’m sorry. I’m not really a prig, but some of the advances, really, why does a man with a beer belly think its manly to boast about how long it took to grow it? Why do out of shape guys think their girls should be models while they let themselves go to pot? Why is a girl a cold bitch because she won’t snuggle with a piss-tank?” She must have noticed my ears being blown back by her outburst, because she laughed again and apologised.

I just smiled at her as I led her through a series of moves that I had to concentrate on. She was right, though. Even in this room, most of the ladies were trim and gorgeous. At least three quarters of the men were overfed, self-satisfied, swaggering slobs. I was one of the few who actually danced.

We danced the set out, and some rock came on, and the floor filled with non-dancers who could pretend. We strolled to the periphery, me holding her hand. “Its best if we seem to be an item, even now. Even if we have to make it look like I’m scoring, it keeps anyone else from thinking there is an opening” She nodded, and let me put an arm around her waist and lead her to a big comfy couch way back in the corner where we could watch the goings-on and she could rest her feet. We had just settled in and started to talk when a drunk with a bloated face peered closely at her and seemed to want to say something. As she cringed, I put a protective arm over her shoulder, she snuggled into me, and the guy backed off.

“Feel safer now?” I teased, “Anybody watching thinks we’re making out.”
“But we’re not, are we?” she answered primly, without pulling away.
“No, damn it, we’re not. But you’re snuggling me, and I’m liking it, and that’s sort of a very low key way of making out. But it’s a very safe way,” I felt her stiffen again, “And it sure beats the alternative, doesn’t it?”
She remembered the last advance and shuddered, then relaxed into me again. The couch was just made for this sort of thing, and it threw us closer even. Her body was wonderfully supple, but side-by-side sitting was a strain. We looked like two teenagers on their first date trying to cuddle without actually touching anything sensitive. She must have felt it too, because she was fidgeting too trying to play the part.
“Trust me?” I asked. She looked blank, then I drew her knees over mine. She wasn’t sitting on my lap, but now the cushions threw us together in a comfortable manner, her head on my shoulder. She smiled, snuggled in, and nodded. This was better. Both my arms were around her now, and she was okay with that. “Just until some good music comes back.” I assured her. There was a swoosh of air as a heavy body smacked down on the other end of the couch.

“Good party, eh?” The voice was over loud, and we both smelled the booze. “Do I know you people?”
She looked up at me beseechingly to handle this. “Trust me?” I whispered. She nodded, and I kissed her. Not a hard kiss, but I let it go on, and when she figured out what I was doing, I felt her arm going around my neck. We held it until we felt the weight heave itself up and we were alone again. I held her gaze long after. “You know if someone else comes we might have to do that again?”
She smiled shyly. Her arm was still around my neck..”I trust you. Do whatever it takes to keep creeps like that away.”
“I’m sorry you have to be stuck here, on the one hand, but on the other, if we were anywhere else, we wouldn’t be cuddling like this. Am I the only winner here?”

She pecked my lips, “You’re not the only winner. I told you I’m not a prig, and I like cuddling you. I just got a bit defensive before you rescued me, that’s all.” Her eyes held mine, and I could feel the warmth of her breath on my lips, knew her lips were parted, and this time when we kissed we did it on our own volition, and in our own time, and it was an even longer time than when we waited out the drunk. Her tongue was shy and light on mine, dancing with me just like she danced on the floor, but not quick to go away. And then her phone rang.

It was her husband. His flight was cancelled and he wouldn’t be home till noon tomorrow. She was free to go home. She looked at me helplessly. My hand still held her knees over mine, but there was now a space where her breast had been pressing mine.

“Sorry,” she murmured as she tucked the phone away, “You’ve been such a lifesaver, I hate to just cast you off.” Her hands came back to my face and I could see the regret was real.
“If the phone hadn’t rung, what would we be doing right now?” I put just a little pressure on her shoulder and she floated back. It felt like she had a good night kiss in mind, but in seconds her tongue again found mine. “We’ve been pretending to be making out for an hour. I think we should stop pretending for a few minutes.” She stretched her chin up for me to nuzzle her neck and ear, didn’t flinch as I caressed the thigh now exposed as her skirt rode up, and even put her hand behind my head to pull me back for another kiss, wide open and very deep.

“Is making out more sensuous than pretending to make out?” Willow was a bit breathless now. “I mean, I was kissing you and meaning it before, but now when we kiss and we don’t have to, you know, just because we want to, it seems just a bit naughty, and oh, so sexy.” She giggled and ground her small breasts into me.”I guess what I’m saying, too, is that if you want me to stay and neck, I’m good for as long as you want me. And not because I think I owe you, but because I like it too.”
“Do you know when I want you to go?” I was nibbling her chin playfully.
“When do you want me to go?” She had thrown back her head and pulled my face to her chest.
“When you are ready to take me with you.” My tongue was tracing down her front as far as her neckline would let it.
“That would be now. Do you have a car? I came in a taxi so Brad could drive home.”

The ride home was quiet. At one point I found myself saying “oh, please, oh, please”. Once in her door, Willow was a different woman. As I stood looking at her, wondering how to start the fire again, she began to unbutton her dress. It had a hundred buttons or so, and it was sensuously slow. She stopped and smiled invitingly. I guessed at my move and began to unbutton my shirt. This seemed satisfactory and she continued down her row, not taking her eyes off my progress. By the time her tummy was showing glimpses my shirt was on the floor and my socks were getting clawed off. My wife taught me early not to be caught naked with my socks on. The last button parted and Willow opened herself to my eyes and let the dress slip off her hips to fall around her feet. Her bra had a front clasp and she closed her eyes as she let me release her breasts, then he her bra joined her dress on the floor, and her perfect little orbs were pressed to me, and our tongue were reunited.

“I said I wasn’t a prig, but aside from that, I’ve never done this before. Am I going at it right? I want to fuck, but not if it makes me look like a bitch.” Her eyes were sober and level. I stood back and drank her in. She was still in the circle of her skirts, just little poor boy panties hugging her narrow hips. I loosed my buttons and let the weight of my pockets drag my pants down. My cock was rock hard and peeked out the top of my waist band as I hooked my thumbs into it. As I inched it down, willow did the same with her panties, and we did a slow strip for each other. She was as kick-butt gorgeous as Carrie, just six inches taller, not Asian, and fair skinned. Her body sang to me as I watched her dance closer. Our hands touched, but just, passing on to each other’s bodies. lightly touching the most intimate places.

Presently Willow smiled at me and motioned to a huge couch in front of the fireplace. “Look what we have. Doesn’t that look inviting? But its not leather, and much nicer on the skin.”
We honestly tried our party position, and the couch was willing, but halfway into the first kiss we were laid flat, out bodies grinding, her wonderful sinuous curves finding ever more intimate ways to get closer. Even when I started kissing down her body she contrived to bend and get more skin on me. Her tummy was hollow, just as Carrie’s is, and my tongue as it probed made her squirm in delicious ways. She stopped breathing in the moment my tongue must reach her clit, then my graceful elegant gazelle became the voracious man-eater, humping into my chin, making me hang on just to not hurt her with my teeth as she wildly bucked through our first orgasm together. Her screams were muffled by my cock in her mouth, and as she came down she became ever more professional with her treatment, and already I could feel myself rising. But I didn’t have that in mind. More important than even an orgasm was the feeling of being in this vision, possessing her pussy with my manhood if only for the moment.

“You understand I want to cum in you? So I can kiss you while your pussy does its magic with my cock? So every inch of skin we can get together can touch at that moment?” By this time I was between her hungry thighs, wonderfully rounded and strong for so slim a body, and I was still talking as she pulled me in. Then we were both talking at once, She using little endearments that quickly became incoherent, mine giving way to raspy breathing that escalated to explosive grunts as I lost control of the conflagration that consumed our loins in that one brief eternity.

I didn’t spend the night. We fucked again, just for the fun of it, just to feel each other in an intimate way but with a sober, objective approach that lasted until the world blew up again. Willow was not a prig, but she was hesitant to take me to her marriage bed, which I found easy to honour. I think Carrie would do the same thing, if I wasn’t there. Besides, I had an early golf game.
“This won’t cause trouble between you and Carrie?” Willow wanted to know. I promised that the first thing I would do when Carrie got home would be to brag about how lonesome I had been. “I think Brad will be okay. I have to tell him, you know. He sometimes wants to take me to Hedo in Jamaica.”

This brought my eyebrows up. “What would you have to say about Brad being with a half Korean nymph? Would it take your mind off our sex?”
“Brad fuck Carrie? Would she do that? If she would, I would love to do it for Brad.” Her forehead wrinkled, “Oh dear, for me too”