The story I’m about to tell you took place in September of 2000 in Newport Beach, California and it went something like this to the best of my recollection.
My husband had told me that we were invited to a party at one of his co-worker’s house about a week before the incident I am about to describe. I hadn’t been to a good party in a while, and from what my husband was telling me this was supposed to be a pretty good party. I looked forward to it all week but was disappointed when on the day of the party my husband called me to tell me that he would be late coming home, and asking me if I would mind just meeting him at the party. He promised to be there by 9:00 at the latest. I reluctantly agreed and he gave me the address of the party’s location.
I know myself very well and I probably know my husband even better. After saying that I can safely say that I knew that I’d be in for a night of passionate love making after the party, probably in some outdoor location like my car, or a park, maybe even the beach. With this in mind I showered, then carefully shaved my pussy to a small thin patch of hair, the way both hubby and I like it. I then applied my make-up, just a touch since I’m not a big fan of tons of make-up.
My outfit consisted of a silk sheath that was supposed to be a short dress- crimson colored, which came to about 6 inches above my knees when standing. A bra does not go well with a silk dress, so I left that bit of clothing at home. The only other piece of clothing beside 3” heeled pumps was a pair of g-string panties, white and sheer. My object was to seduce my husband either at the party, or on the way back home. In my outfit I was sure I would succeed.
I drove to the location and after cruising the street I realized that the party’s location was not a house but an apartment. My husband hadn’t given me an apartment number and calling him was out of the question since he’d probably already left the office and was probably on his way. Besides, it didn’t seem like a big complex so I’d probably find it by the sounds of a party. Hubby had told me that his co-worker’s name was John something or other, so I’d just wander around the complex until I found it, the just ask for John. Simple.
After wandering only a few minutes I came upon an open balcony door on the ground floor of one of the buildings, and from the door came the sounds of several men laughing and talking. I went and knocked on the door and asked if this was the John party. I was told that the person living here was named John, that this was a party, and that I’d be welcome to the party. I told them that I was supposed to meet my husband here, and I was answered with a unanimous “right, whatever!” We all just laughed it off, and I took it as guys just being guys.
I did take notice that there were no other women there, just four guys and myself. I was a little uncomfortable, but after being offered a beer I settled into a comfortable sofa and struck up a conversation with a particularly nerdy, overweight computer programmer. We soon became “good friends” to the point where he was telling me his girl troubles.
It struck me as rather odd that nobody else was showing up, including my husband, but I just chalked it up to his being late again. I soon became the object of everyone’s attention, being the only woman there, and I was certainly enjoying it. I am an avid attention seeker, an exhibitionist at heart. Besides my earlier conversation companion there was another computer programmer nerdy type, skinnier than the first and slightly better looking, an accountant guy who resembled Michael Madsen on a bad day, and finally a sports jock-type who seemed to be the leader of the group and who also happened to be John, the person living in the apartment.
John pretty much took the lead on everything, including the distribution of alcohol, TV and Video control, even the conversation. He’s also the guy responsible for all the action I got at this party.
What happened was that about one hour after I arrived the conversation had dwindled somewhat. One of the guys, the chunky programmer was sitting on the sofa with me, two of the other guys were on chairs facing the sofa, and John was standing behind the sofa, and behind me. One of the guys asked, “So, what should we talk about?” Everyone just looked at each other dumbly but John, the instigator said, “Lisa, why don’t you just show us your tits?” At the same time he reached down and pulled my dress’ thin straps down and my dress fell away exposing my breasts.
This happened so fast and I was so shocked by his statement that for a second I didn’t even react to his action. All I felt was a smooth action and I thought he has placed his hands on my shoulders to put me at ease about his comment. Since my face had turned up at him in reaction to his comment it was only a second later that I realized that my dress was pooled around my waist now and that my breasts were exposed.
As much as I was excited by my sudden exhibition I was also furious. I slowly lifted my dress’ straps back up to my shoulders and stood facing John. I calmly told him not to do that again without permission. He just smiled weakly and uttered a low-moan that sounded like “Sorry”. Good enough for me. I contemplated leaving, but then a sudden realization came to me. I had been set up!
My husband and I have been married a couple of years now and ever since I told him that it was one of my biggest fantasies to have a small party of men ravage me, he’s been trying to get me to fulfill that fantasy. I’ve never given in to that fantasy fully. Everything about this party seemed to fall into place. The small party of only men, the attempt by John to get the “party” going, the nerdy guys (much less desirable than my husband, probably to keep me from liking someone more than him), and finally the whole atmosphere of the so-called party. It didn’t have the ambiance of a regular party at all, more like the ambiance of an apartment full of desperate guys. I finally found the humor in it all, and decided to see how far it could go.
I went and sat back down on the couch, but this time with the full knowledge that I was being played, but also knowing that I was secretly the one in control. My confidence level was boosted immensely by the fact that I was probably the hottest babe these guys would ever be in a room with, much less “connect” with.
I took my seat on the sofa, between Cass, the overweight programmer and John, who had taken a seat too now. I sat slightly facing Cass, with my back slightly turned to John, and with my legs crossed. Since I hadn’t worn pantyhose my silk dress rode high up my thigh. I started a conversation with all of them asking them all sorts of questions, which I knew they wouldn’t want to answer. I then suggested my favorite game, Truth or Dare, which as some of my readers know has gotten me into more trouble than anything else.
Everyone was eager to start the game, and after passing around a new round of beers and tequila shots the game began. Several questions were answered, one of which only alcohol would wrench out- that one of the nerds had experimented with another boy in his youth.
After the dumb questions were out of the way the dares began. I was the first to take a dare rather that answer a question. I could have answered it, but I wanted to get the “game” going.
I was dared to down a whole beer. After rolling my eyes like a brat I informed them that if their dares were going to be silly and juvenile I’d take my ball and go home. Again, John rescued them. He said, “I dare you to take off your panties. You don’t have to show us anything while taking them off, but just take them off.”
I smiled and said, “That’s more like it!” I then bit my lower lip seductively. I said, “There’s no way that I’d be able to take off my panties without lifting my dress, and that wouldn’t do. I want Cass to reach up my dress and take them off for me!”
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