[janneman1]

It was a Friday afternoon when I got a call from a long time friend, I haven’t seen for quite a while. Me and my wife Cathy had moved to a new town and were just too busy to spend any time on our social life. As we had no house warming session yet, I used the opportunity to invite Peter and Charmaine over for the week-end to celebrate our new endeavors. They accepted and arrived at about 18:30 that same Friday evening, driving from a town about two hours from us.

As they got out of the car I could not help giving Charmaine a second look. She looked gorgeous, wearing a long light blue summer dress, clad loosely over her tall body and pointy little breasts. Her almost black hair was worn in a short comfortable, but neat style. As I helped them to offload their overnight bags I noticed that Peter paid my wife a similar appreciative look. He was always a boob man and my wife did not disappoint. Cathy sported her favorite knee-length denim skirt with a white blouse straining a bit over her full D-cups. She was rather on the short side and had a voluptuous full, but by no means overweight, body. After we showed them their room and a bit of our house, we fixed some drinks and I led Peter and Charmaine to our back yard.

I already had a fire next to our swimming pool going as I thought a BBQ would be the best suited for the event. We sat down in a circle around the fire and started to catch up on old times. Peter wasn’t too heavy on the drinks so I had to refill my own drink when he was only about halfway down his glass. I stood up and went to the kitchen where a temporary bar was set up for the evening. I was just about finished fixing my drink when Charmaine joined me. She held out her empty wine glass.

“Mind if I had a refill too?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said taking her glass. I took the opened bottle of late harvest from the shelf and filled her glass.

“Ice?” I asked.

“Thanks, wait I’ll get it.” She opened the freezer door to take out an ice cube tray. She was a bit clumsy in her effort, and one of the trays fell to the floor spattering cubes all over the floor.

“Oh sorry!” she said and bent over to pick up the mess. The loose summer dress parted with her chest as she leaned down and I could only stare at her bare little breasts. There was no need for a bra. Though she was in her 30’s her breasts looked liked those of a teenager, like if they were still developing, just less than a handful. Her nipples were small and pointy, almost cherry black. She must have realized something was wrong for at that moment it was awfully quiet in the kitchen. She looked up and caught my gaze.

“Hey!” was all she managed and she quickly pressed the dress against her chest. “I didn’t realize…” she blushed.

“No worries, you can pick up my ice cubes anytime,” I tried to relax her.

She stood up, her hand still pressed against her chest. “Oh come on, beat it Martin, there’s nothing to see anyways.”

“Not from where I was standing,” I smiled, “I think they’re quite nice.”

“For a fourteen year old yes.”

“Call me a pedophile then, not all men is into bazongas you know.”

“In that case, knock yourself out,” she laughed. I had an urge to rub my eyes as she took her hand away and bent down again to pick up the remaining cubes. She took her time now, bending, I suspect, more than was necessary. He breasts dangled in full view as she worked. She quickly stood up as we heard footsteps. It was Cathy and Peter, coming in for a refill themselves.

“So what are you two up to?” My wife asked teasingly.

“Charmaine decided our floor looked better covered in ice cubes,” I said.

“I’ll mop it up quickly,” Cathy offered and took a mop out of the closet.

A few minutes later we were all settled again and chatting next to the fire. After about fifteen minutes Charmaine excused herself. I assumed she was going for a refill for her glass was empty and she took it along. Another ten minutes passed and I noticed Charmaine was still not back. Cathy and Peter were indulged in a huge debate regarding the capabilities of the national cricket team that was due to be announced on the eight o’ clock TV news bulletin. Not a cricket fan, I was sort of excluded from the discussion. I was more of a ‘titty’ fan and decided rather to go and investigate Charmaine’s ‘disappearance’.

I found her empty glass on the kitchen cupboard and continued my search down the passageway. She was neither in the guest bedroom nor in the guest bathroom. I walked towards our bedroom and saw some light from the adjoining bathroom.

“Charmaine?” I asked softly. There was no door to our bathroom around the corner and I did not want to deliberately ‘walk in’ on her.

“Martin, thank God. There’s no paper in your bathroom,” she said from around the corner with some panic in her voice.

“I checked the guest bathroom this afternoon, but not ours,” I apologized. Just sit tight I’ll call Cathy to get you some.

“Sorry, I was a bit curious and wandered around in your house…that’s how I ended up here. Don’t bother with Cathy just throw me some, I’ll cover up,” she suggested from around the corner.

“Okay just hold on.” I fetched some toilet paper from the other bathroom’s cupboard and went back to our bedroom.

“You decent?” I asked.

“Sort of, come in,” she said hesitantly.

She was sitting on the toilet, her dress pulled up to above her hips; her panties were on her feet. She covered her pubic area with both her hands.

“Here, catch,” I said and threw the roll of paper to her. Instinctively she reached up with her hands to catch the roll and left her private parts uncovered. For the briefest of moments I could make out a very dark strip of pubic hair between her legs, however she kept her composure and her knees stayed firmly pressed together, severely limiting my view.

“Bastard, I’ll get you for this,” she said seemingly angry as she covered the necessary again.

“Will be rather difficult from the position you are in right now,” I laughed, “can I get you anything else?” I asked and my facial expression was sweet and innocent.

“I’ll be fine now, if you’ll excuse me!” she demanded her privacy.

“I’ll go if you show your tits again.”

“Martin… You are a bastard. No ways!” she protested.

“In that case I’ll just stay until the madam’s finished.”

“Please Martin, just leave! Before somebody comes!” The anger in her voice changed to panic, but I just stood there and folded my arms.

“Okay, okay, I’ll show you again, but not now, just leave!”

“Is that a promise?” I asked.

“Whatever, just go!”

I joined the others at the fire again.

“Where’s Charmaine?” Cathy asked, briefly interrupting herself on her expectations of the new number one batsman’s abilities.

“Think she’s in the bathroom,” I said innocently.

“Oh,” Cathy replied and continued her conversation with Peter.

“Looks like we have cricket night again,” Charmaine sighed as she returned. She didn’t seem to be the least disturbed about the bathroom incident.

“Yeh, I’d rather be talking to a dead horse,” I shared Charmaine’s sentiments.

The two cricket fans seemed less than bothered and continued their conversation.

“Shit! It’s three to eight!” Peter suddenly yelled. As if they shared one brain, Peter and Cathy jumped up and rushed to the living room where the TV was.

“I hate it when he does that,” Charmaine commented. One would say his life depended on that bloody news event.

“Ditto,” I said, “but I must say, it could have been worse. There could have been a match on.”

“Yes, I see you’re empty again. Me too.” We walked together to the kitchen.

“So, are you going to pick up some ice cubes again?” I asked.

“Huh?” she asked confused.

“Your promise, remember?”

“Oh Martin, grow up. I can’t believe you’re so obsessed. It’s only tits and not much of it either.”

“Come on! I told you they’re marvelous. If they weren’t would I have asked to see them again?”

“Boys!” she sighed. “Not here, they could come in any second!” She grabbed my hand and led me outside the kitchen. We went around the corner of the house to the farthest end from the living room. She stopped underneath one of the outdoor lights.

“Eat your heart out,” she said as she started to unbutton the top part of the long dress. She took the two loose ends of the dress and pulled them slowly apart.

“Satisfied?” she asked as soon as her little A-cups were in full view.

“Very,” I said, and reached out to cup them in my hands. She flinched slightly, but allowed my fingers to work her dark nipples to an erect state.

“Martin,” she whispered softly, then louder as she took my hands away, “NO!” She quickly fastened her dress again and added, “Men!” before she turned around to head for the BBQ area. I managed a little slap on her tight buttocks as she walked away.

“Hey” she jumped and giggled. She couldn’t be too angry I thought.

Cathy and Peter joined us a couple of minutes later and after a brief discussion of the selected cricket team I told them that the first person to mention anything about cricket or even use the word cricket again will be thrown into our swimming pool. My suggestion was seconded by Charmaine and reluctantly agreed to by Pete and Cathy.

The evening continued with a lot of fun, jokes and drinks as we caught up with good times lost in the last couple of months. We were all getting tipsy from the drinks, which maybe let to my wife’s mistake.

“Almost as good as cricket,” she responded to one of Pete’s comments.

“That’s it!” I interrupted and grabbed her by her arm.

“But, No No!” she protested as I wrestled her to the swimming pool. She was no match for me and connected the water with a huge splash. As she emerged again, gasping for air she shouted. “What the hell was that for!”

“You mentioned cricket…” Charmaine realized her own slip up before she finished her sentence.

Pete was very quick on his feet, laughingly dragging the protesting tigress to the pool. He had to put in a lot more effort before Charmaine finally plunged into the water.

“Should be interesting to see when they get out,” I winked at Pete as he came and stood next to me at the side of the pool, “My wife’s got a white top on.”

“Yeah,” Pete added in anticipation as we looked from the side of the pool to the two victims, “And my wife’s dress won’t leave too much to the imagination either.”

“We heard you!” My wife replied while she struggled to the shallow end of the pool to get out. “And don’t think I’m going to cover up for your friend, that’s for throwing me in.

“Is that a punishment or a reward?” I asked as she got out of the pool and walked towards us. The bright spotlights around the pool penetrated right through the wet white blouse. The white bra underneath wasn’t too much of a consolation and her big rosy nipples were clearly visible through the material. Both my and Peter’s eyes were fixated on Cathy’s bosom as she stood dripping wet in front of us.

“And that goes for you too!” Charmaine shouted to Peter as she got out of the pool as well. She was in no better shape than my wife. The wet dress clung like a second skin to her body. As she walked towards us my mouth gaped. Her bare nipples were dark and erect through the thin cotton fabric. My gaze lowered to her legs. Her white bikini cut panties were clearly visible, the womanly bulge between her legs outlined by the clinging dress.

“So what am I supposed to wear now?” she asked Peter as she reached our little group.

Peter tore his eyes from my wife’s nipples and looked at his wife. “What do you mean; you’ve packed clothes didn’t you?”

“Yes but only one clean set for tomorrow you fool,” there was faked anger in her voice.

“You could always wear your nightie,” Peter said jokingly.

“Then I can just as well go nude.”

“Not very much different from your current state,” Peter laughed.

“Come Charmaine, I’ll see if I can fix you up with some clothes,” my wife interrupted and went for the house.

Peter and I both laughed at the dribbling wet figures as they went into the house.

“We got quite a show tonight, more than we could ever have hoped for,” I patted Peter on the shoulders as we went to sit down next to the fire again.

“Jeez man, your wife’s got one beautiful rack on hers,” Peter said as I handed him his drink.

“Your wife’s not bad either,” I commented.

“A bit on the small side,” Peter replied.

I spared my comments for myself and we watched the fire in silence.