I turned 40. The only thing that kept me from being neurotic and depressed about it was the small dinner party I had at my place. The invitee list was small: Chad and Wendy.
We enjoyed martinis and then I cooked while the two of them made conversation. Wendy gave me this knowing smile, as if she figured out I was up to something. But they seemed to get along well -- a good 'tini will help, but as I've said, Chad has social skills well beyond his age. I could hear him getting Wendy to talk passionately about a new book on the Middle East. (One challenge to a dinner like this is that there's so much Wendy and I can't talk about to outsiders).
After dinner, we retired back to my cozy living room and I made sure Chad and Wendy sat on the small sofa. I poured a fine port and sat across from them on my vintage Eames chair. We were about talked down, about to that point in the evening when one starts to thank the hostess and head for the Metro, when Chad leaned over and kissed Wendy, first lightly, then passionately. Her arms went around him and embraced him. I felt a warm, wetness between my legs (I was wearing a little black dress, just to set the mood).
Chad pulled back and Wendy was flushed a bright red.
"I...I...Linda, I should be going..."
I winked at her. "Just let it happen."
And did she. Wendy grabbed Chad's shirt collar and pulled him back again. This time the kissing was serious and pretty soon she had her hands all over him, including down his left leg, where his fine cock was stretching the fabric. I can imagine what she was thinking. I just sat there. Everybody was toasty from the booze, but I didn't want to move too fast and blow the whole thing up. I've opened up Wendy a lot, but she's still a suburban soccer mom with all that baggage. He stroked her face and hair, kissed along her neck and her ears; I had taught him well.
I walked over to the two of them and stroked both their heads. "You guys need to get a room." They looked up, and I nodded toward my bedroom. "It's okay," I continued. "I have some work to catch up on."
Chad stood quickly and led Wendy into the bedroom. Days before, I had talked to Chad and asked him if he would be open to some mischief. He was, of course -- he's a horny 18-year-old! Wendy hadn't been prompted at all, but over time I had told her about threesomes and orgies I had taken part in. Part of her was a little shocked. But most of her was very, very intrigued. I could tell most of all by how horny she was to play with me after I had told these stories.
The two of them went into the bedroom. The door closed. I sat and nursed the port for several minutes before rising and opening the door ever so slightly. Then I went back and sat on the sofa, stretching out my legs, turning off the floor lamp and sipping...and listening.
Wendy is not a major screamer. But it wasn't long before I heard the first one of the night, sharp, primal, exquisite. I tried really hard not to involuntarily squeeze my legs together and grind my pelvis. I was hoping I could join the fun, too...