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I’ve never been afraid of the dark, as such. I’m more a little bit cautious than outright scared. Well, at least that’s how I was before the party at Maggie’s place last weekend.
Maggie is one of my childhood friends who I’ve never lost touch with, even though we’re both almost thirty now. But that’s pretty much all we have in common — Maggie walks into a room and everyone notices. She’s not brassy or cheap or anything like that — although some of the things she wears would raise eyebrows in a strip club, let alone at a cocktail party — but she just has this simple, elegant beauty that acts like a magnet to every eye. She’s not loud, either, but her slightly husky voice seems to cut through the chatter around her leaving us all hanging on her every word. And before you even think it, we’re just friends, and other than one silly weekend of experimentation more than a decade ago, our friendship is solidly platonic. I’m the quiet, slender girl with the untameable dark hair and Maggie is the curvier, vivacious blonde. There’s never any confusing which one of us is which, for sure.
So, the party last weekend. Maggie is one of nature’s natural hostesses, a lover of company and an organiser of the most wonderful parties. To make it even better for me, a single girl, Maggie isn’t into match-making or trying to mix and match her guests; Mags is more into gathering together the sort of disparate personalities that make for lively debates and unexpected liaisons. Or to put it in Maggie-speak, she lights the blue touch paper and then sits back to enjoy the occasional firework and more frequent sparkler.
That sort of situation is ideal for me, as long as she leaves me room on the audience bench. It’s a familiar position for me and to her credit Mags never tries to force me to participate in her party games. Which is not say that she doesn’t encourage me to take part. Sometimes rather sternly.
It was like that last weekend when she suggested her latest game after we’d all been eating, drinking and chatting for a couple of hours. As soon as the words ‘murder in the dark’ left her lips, I was already busily trying to come up with an excuse to be excused, and when she add ‘with a twist’, my personal alibi-creation monkey was put on overtime duty.
The rules, Maggie explained, were a little less playground and a little more grown-up. In fact, she said that it was going to ‘intriguing’ and ‘terribly, terribly secretive’. Not to mention ‘a wonderful chance for one or two of you to give in to your naughtier sides’.
That last comment positively alarmed me, but I was mollified to a degree when she outlined the basics — we were to be plunged into pitch darkness and were to simply, and anonymously, locate other party goers and whisper a secret observation about them into their ears. Whoever collected — and admitted to — the most complimentary “secrets” would be the winner. They would have to state what they were so of course there could be no cheating because we would, between us, know the truth of what was said. I figured that I would be perfectly safe right from the outset. There were some sixteen guests, divided equally between the genders and I was certain that my slight figure and ratty hair would be far down the list for any compliments that were to be dished out by the males present. As is usual with Maggie’s games, despite my reluctance and despite the fact that I knew I stood no chance of winning any prizes, I was immediately wondering if anyone present would compliment me on my intellect or my sense of humour. It didn’t make me comfortable when Maggie told us that the game was about to start, but I wasn’t overly concerned.
‘Right, everyone!’ Maggie clapped her hands together when the men had, stereotypically, moved all of the furniture out of her living room, ‘We’re all set now, so everyone pick a spot to stand in and as soon as I turn out the lights, you go and stand there and we’ll get started.’
‘What if two of us pick the same spot?’ Busty Barbara asked, timidly but reasonably.
Maggie laughed, ‘Then I imagine the fun will start very quickly!’
Any grumbles that were about to be made were cut short in a series of — mostly-feminine — squeaks as the room was plunged into darkness. From somewhere close to the hallway door, Maggie chuckled at our reactions, ‘Let the fun commence,’ she announced. ‘The lights will come back on in ten minutes, so get commenting and remember to be as totally honest as you can. No one will ever know it was you if you’re careful!’
Her words were followed by a total absence of sound as sixteen people — pretty much strangers — sought to find their balance and their bearings. For a full twenty seconds there wasn’t so much as a movement as we all worked out how to start breathing again, but then from somewhere a few feet away to my left I heard a muted ‘sorry’ as the first person made the first move and apparently stepped on the second person’s toes.
Whatever had happened seemed to break the grup sex porno ice and a few seconds later a hand brushed past my arm before returning and slipping down to my own hand before clasping tightly. I knew even before the voice whispered ‘who’s that?’ that it was one of the younger women — maybe Siobhan or Melissa — and I dutifully began to play the game.
‘It’s Maria,’ I told the young lady.
‘Good,’ she replied, ‘I wanted to start with someone easy.’ She paused and her voice came back much more rapidly after a couple of seconds, ‘Not that I mean I think you’re easy or anything, I just meant it’s easy for me to say this to you: my secret observation about you is that you are way smarter than you look… not that I mean you look dumb or anything, just, you know? I mean, you’re like Einstein in drag… oh shit, look that’s all wrong too… Am I ballsing this up big time, or what?’
‘I think you’re trying to compliment me,’ I started to relax at Siobhan’s — I was now sure it was her — discomfort — ‘so don’t worry about anything. I’m flattered.’
‘I am. Complimenting you, that is. Not that I’m… you know? I mean I don’t want you to think I’m using the dark as an excuse for… you know?’
‘I know,’ I assured her.
There was a quiet sigh from my first contact, ‘I hope the rest of the encounters go a bit more smoothly than this,’ she whispered, ‘but if it’s any consolation for my awkwardness, I’m glad you were my first. Someone so smart and kind made it easier.’
‘That’s a lovely thing to say…’ I just about managed to stop myself from adding ‘Siobhan’ to the end of my sentence. The poor girl was already nervous enough without knowing that I knew who she was. And let’s face it, it really was a lovely thing to say, ‘I just hope I get at least one more comment as nice as yours, but I doubt it.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you will,’ Siobhan chuckled softly, ‘And I guess we’d better start circulating so you find that out for sure and I stop making a total fool of myself.’
I was about to tell her not to be so hard on herself but I felt my hand released, a gentle movement in the air and a sudden absence of a presence by my side. Siobhan had sensibly moved on. I stood very still trying to decide whether to move left or right along the wall when I felt that absence of presence suddenly filled. I paused, straining to hear anything but could only make out the quietest of breaths from close by my left ear.
‘Who… who is it?’
A deep but very soft laugh sounded from much closer to my side than I had imagined the new person to be standing. It was followed by a croaking whisper, the sort that was clearly designed to mask the person’s true tones, ‘Now that would be telling, but I believe you must be Maria?’
‘Er, yes it is. What is your observation?’ I was almost dismissive when I heard the male tones, certain that there would be nothing overly complimentary offered.
‘Well I’m glad to hear that, Maria,’ the croak softened a little, but not enough for me to work out who it was, ‘only ever since Maggie told us what the game was going to be, I was desperate to get to speak to you.’
‘Really, really. Only I don’t think I could make the observation in the cold light of… well, light.’
To my surprise my heart skipped in my chest. Good old Ms Pessimist sprang to my assistance — he could never bring himself to be insulting or negative without the lights being off, that must be it, ‘Well, let me have it then.’
‘Oh, I wish I could… sorry, was that to forward?’
‘Forward? I don’t… oh…’
‘Yes,’ he said, clearly pleased that I’d worked out what he meant, ‘I mean I really couldn’t tell you what I was thinking when the lights were on but now… well, now I just want you to know that I think you are so, and I mean so sexy.’
‘Me?’ The skipping in my chest increased in tempo. It felt like I had the cast of Riverdance stomping away, ‘You do know that this is Maria, right?’ I didn’t mean to excuse myself but I just needed a few moments to come to terms with what I was hearing.
‘Oh, I know,’ the croak had pretty much disappeared but to my extreme annoyance I couldn’t for the life of me put face to the voice, ‘I just…’ the voice paused and I heard a dry swallow, ‘I just so much wanted to say you are so beautiful.’
The mouth uttering the words that shocked my so much — so nicely — suddenly snapped shut with an audible click of teeth and the breeze that brushed past my face told me that my second visitor, and second surprise, had moved on.
I was astounded by those first two ‘secret observations’ and I was already hoping that the remainder of the ten minutes would pass in a flash to leave me with as close to a perfect score (in my mind, anyway) as it was possible to get with those two first comments. I told myself that Siobhan had probably made sure she was close to me for an easy start, and the guy… well, maybe the guy was genuine enough but it latina fuck tour porno would have to be a genuine one to be so close right at the start. The rest were probably keeping their distance so they didn’t have to supply a less desirable ‘honest’ comment to me. In fact-
Another croaky male voice, heavy with disguise, shocked me from my somewhat negative thoughts, ‘Er, hello?’
‘That’s Maria’s dulcet tones, right?’
‘Dulcet… oh, well yes it is.’
There was a deep exhalation of wine-scented breath from my left, ‘I am so glad. I would have felt terrible if I didn’t get the opportunity to provide you with me secret observation.’
This voice was by far the most confident of the three so far, and although Ms Pessimist wanted to have her say, my line-dancing heart wasn’t listening, ‘Well, now you have your chance. Just please don’t be too harsh.’
‘As if!’ The voice paused, ‘Surely you know that at least half of the men in here would be honoured to be in your company for a few hours at the very least?’
I was about to protest but a finger was pressed to my lips, shocking me into silence.
‘Oh, Maria, you’re built like the sleekest, smoothest feline and those eyes, that figure… when those looks are married to that sharp, witty, insightful mind, it makes for the most heavenly of creature!’
The sharp, witty, insightful mind went mercifully blank. ‘Huh?’
‘You ever hear the expression ‘sex on legs’? Well you’re that and more — the more being you’re smart and funny and… oh hell, Maria, I could never say this in the light but you make me so aroused just by being in the same room.’
‘That’s… such a lovely thing to say,’ I managed, my mind busily trying to ignore thoughts of arousing guys just by breathing, ‘Very kind and very nice, but surely that’s a bit of an exaggeration-‘
I was interrupted as my hand was grabbed, ‘You really think so? Only one way to prove it then.’
As my hand was pushed onto the front of the guy’s suit trousers — bulging suit trousers, I might add — I didn’t so much as offer an ounce of resistance. All I could say as the fireworks started to ignite in my suddenly fevered brain was ‘Oh…’ The polite part of me, the well-educated young lady, managed to add, ‘Thank you’, but I’m not sure which part of me it was that squeezed very gently until the mystery man let out a whimper.
‘Maria?’ he muttered, somehow very quickly, ‘Look I’m sorry but I’ll never get such a chance again, I’m sure.’
‘I don’t know what you-‘ my breath caught in my throat as his free hand closed gently over my right breast.
‘I’m sorry,’ he managed, starting move his hand away.
My own free hand closed over his and pressed it back against my now heaving (albeit small) chest, ‘It’s okay,’ I managed, ‘A one-off chance, right? Might as well make the most of it…’ I have no idea where my mind was wandering off to, but my body was reacting with sudden arousal that shocked me with its intensity. I think I tried to tell this man — this stranger — just that, but words were failing me. As his hand tightened in a gentle squeeze, so my own hand responded in kind as his erection became ever harder through the cotton of his suit.
The darkness which I had been almost fearful of was suddenly my best friend, and my staid and steady mind took the most unexpected detour. I stroked the hardness in my hand, firmly and as obviously as circumstances allowed, ‘This,’ I heard my suddenly unfettered mouth whisper, ‘is a very loose dress.’
The hand that had been holding mine against his hardness was suddenly removed as a grunt of acknowledgement was softly murmured. Moments later I felt the guy lean down a little and sudden coolness as the front hem of the dress was pushed up, fingers tracing a beeline up the inside of my left thigh. As three of those fingers arranged themselves against the front of my thin cotton panties — rapidly becoming damp cotton panties — I had to lean forward and bite the guy’s left shoulder to stop a squeal of delight freaking out half of the room. His other hand slid sideways, seeking and finally locating the fold in the bodice of my dress that allowed access to the bare breasts beneath.
I was struggling to keep from howling in pleasure and when a third hand tapped my shoulder, a voice enquiring in plummy feminine tones whether I was free, it was all I could do not to tell the woman to fuck the hell off. I managed a ‘sorry, no’, the two words almost split apart by a full-blooded howl as a finger finally slid under the damp cotton and started to penetrate the hot, moist folds of my womanhood beneath.
We were ‘alone’ again seconds later, and the guy almost had me howling in frustration when he removed his hand from my bare breast until I felt it fumbling at the front of his suit, loosening the waistband just enough to allow my hand access to its contents. Its gloriously hard and hot contents.
Somehow I still lezbiyen porno retained enough understanding to know that for all of our lust and desire we had to be a little circumspect — the lights could come back on at any moment, and anyone could wander up and touch anywhere… But that didn’t stop me awkwardly stroking his rigid member at the same time as easy my legs as far apart as was practical so that I could let this unknown guy penetrate me with his fingers. Allow him to tease my very centre. Allow him to bring me rapidly and shockingly close to…
I gasped as I realised I was in imminent danger of losing control, right there in the middle of a crowded and only currently dark roomful of acquaintances and strangers. I was about to protest, about to try to resist the seemingly inevitable, when the guy gasped and his rate of breathing increased two or three-fold in matter of a couple of seconds. The hand which had loosened his waistband had returned to the inside of my dress’s bodice and now he squeezed my right breast harder as his whole body began to tense.
The realisation of what was happening to him — how I was helping him to reach that point of sheer release — flipped some kind of switch deep inside me. All resistance winked out of existence and I drove my hips harder against his probing fingers, biting even harder at his shoulder as the tsunami of my climax rushed towards us.
The guy gave a strangled grunt and I felt warmth and wetness against my wrist and palm. When the full realisation of what was happening hit me, the tsunami washed over me, all control dashed to pieces as I surrendered to its weight and power.
I bucked against my stranger, his fingers now deep inside me as waves of orgasm crashed through my defences. I pressed my breasts against his hand and rode his penetrating digits with an abandon that I have seldom, if ever, felt before.
For all its intensity, the orgasm was mercifully short-lived — no more than twenty seconds or so — but it made up for brevity with an intensity that left me breathless, ears ringing, spots dancing before my eyes in the darkness…
The darkness! I gave a shaky sigh of relief, whispering that we had been so lucky. The guy gasped an equally shaky yes, and we began to quickly rearrange our clothing, pausing only for a brief and — don’t laugh — rather shocking kiss. I was just straightening the bodice of my dress when the lights flipped back on in a dazzling display that had us formerly deprived guests blinking and laughing — some of us for different reasons to the others…
I suddenly realised that the return to illumination meant that I would know the identity of my mystery mutual masturbator and I turned to my left to offer him a reassuring smile and a sincere thank you. He wasn’t there. No one was there!
I scanned the room, searching for a guy who was in any way dishevelled or sweating profusely (I knew I was), but there was no one there fitting that description. I tried to work out what the guy must have been wearing but ‘cotton shirt and suit trousers’ fitted six of the guys, the other two wearing jackets and therefore ruled out. I looked closer at the six possibles, trying to make it seem inobvious, but they all looked calm enough. I was wondering if I could — forgive the crudeness, but I was rather desperate — find a way of sniffing at their fingers when Maggie took centre stage and started to organise everyone, encouraging us to come up to her a state how many compliments we had received.
I wondered whether I should say two and an orgasm or three, which would be simpler and less likely to feature as a topic of conversation when we met for the next twenty times, but in the end I found I didn’t need to as she changed method and started asking for anyone who received nine or ten, then eight when no one said anything, then seven and finally six, when two women claimed first prize. I smiled when I saw that one of them was Siobhan and idly wondered how many of the compliments were focused on her gravity defying bust. The other woman was the wife or partner of one of the guys with jackets — Emily, I think I recalled — and was clearly enjoying the attentions. I shrugged and let myself acknowledge that I was more than happy with the compliments I had received. I joined in with the applause and laughter, watching as first Siobhan hopped down from the little stage that Maggie had arranged at the side of the room and then as Emily was helped down by her husband.
I paused, frowning, as she placed her hands on his shoulders and hopped to the floor. My eyebrows rose as I took in the obvious wince the guy had given as his wife had descended, and they rose a little more as he surreptitiously lifted the material of his jacket away from his shoulder — his left shoulder. I was still staring hard when he glanced in my direction, his jaw falling open as he saw me looking back so directly.
I slowly closed my eyes and smiled, opening them after a couple of seconds. He looked back quizzically, clearly wondering whether he should be relieved or not. I decided to put him out of his misery and strode across the room, ostensibly to congratulate the two winners. A crowd was forming around them and the guy intercepted me just behind the small throng of people.
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