Butterflies

  That look deepened as the conversation stuttered on, me seemingly unaware of the repeated glances at my barely covered breasts. The wine disappeared from my glass in no time and I replenished everyone's drinks before heading back to the kitchen, still clutching my own beverage.

  Once again, my first action in the sanctuary of the kitchen was to make sure the dress still covered everything properly - which was thankfully true - and then I busied myself setting out the four dishes that comprised our main course.

  I was serving an over-elaborate but rather pretty baked vegetable mixture with pieces of warm, exotically spiced beef. It was a far simpler task to prepare than it looked on the four plates, where spirals and whirls of thinly cut aubergine, chard, sweet peppers, courgettes and half a dozen other delicacies vied for space with the aromatic strips of meat. I took four seed-speckled rolls from the lower oven and arranged the warm breads in a wicker basket. Happy that everything looked ready, I glanced down at myself and shuddered delightfully when I saw a thin crescent of bobbly pink flesh protruding from the left side of the top of my dress. Covering myself again, I wondered which of the guys might explode first if they had seen that much of me - and without meaning to, how many climaxes I might receive from Mike...

  I quickly slammed the brakes on my over-heated mind and grabbed the first two plates. I gave my oh-so nearly exposed breasts a last safety-check then headed backwards through the kitchen door.

  Our guests were in a positive rush to seat themselves in the dining room and I received an unexpected - but not unpleasant - surprise when I realised that my bust was at their head-heights when they sat.

  Simon asked half a dozen questions about the food in quick succession, forcing me to stand no more than two feet from his side, and I answered as quickly as I could in a polite manner before finally excusing myself, saying something about them needing to get the rolls to go with their main courses. To my surprise Mike, who had been standing across the table from me and the guests, followed me out into the kitchen 'to grab the bread things'.

  "There's really no need," I began when the kitchen door swung closed behind us.

  My husband put a finger to my lips, "There is," he said with a sigh, "I must be mad, but a promise is a promise."

  "Mad? Promise?"

  He nodded down at the front of my dress, "I can see the tiniest hint of pink on your left breast. There, promise kept."

  I looked down and he was right - just barely, but right. "Well, thank you... it's not too bad, either, but I guess once a slip starts it must get hard to stop!"

  I went to adjust the top of the dress, but Mike's hand stayed mine, "Amy... if I asked for something really outrageous from you, would you kill me? Would you file for divorce?"

  I knew - absolutely knew - what he was going to say if I let him. And yet he'd been so good about coming with me to warn me... And something was happening deep inside my mind and belly. If it pleased Mike, it would please me... so if it delighted him, then surely it would end up delighting me?

  It was my turn to put my finger to his lips. I turned and grabbed the wicker basket, spinning and handing it to Mike in one movement. And then, without adjusting the dress at all, I picked up the last two plates. "See? No murder and no divorce. Now open that door for me before I change my mind."

  Mike's eyes rolled - genuinely rolled - but he recovered in no time, and before my screaming brain could make itself heard, I stepped after him into the dining room. A silence spread between the guys as I set Mike's plate down first and then mine. I had to lean forward to put my own plate on its mat and I felt the top of the dress slip just a tiny fraction, felt my hard left nipple snag more firmly in the material.

  I dashed back to the kitchen to find my wine glass, downing the last of its contents before I looked down to see what I knew was already so visible. Almost half of my left nipple was exposed and now one wrong move would see my breast slip free completely. The small area of visible pink flesh took on monstrously large proportions in my mind, but then I thought about the looks in the eyes of our guests - and Mike.

  Right then I wanted to please him more than I ever had before, even though I knew the risk had magnified. I realised as the thoughts tumbled through my mind that this whole thing was making me hot and wet, and whether that was the knowledge of what was to come with Mike later or what I was actually daring myself to do right then I had no idea. And I didn't care.

  I crossed to the fridge and found a half-drunk bottle of something white inside. I liberated it and filled my empty glass. I drank a mouthful and then stared at the kitchen door. If I stepped through that with the dress so precariously snagged on my hard nipple I might well...

  I took a first hesitant step without touching the dress. Then a second.

  A third and fourth took me to the door itself and I pushed it open before I could change my mind, walking boldly to my seat.

  Six eyes followed my every move and the last vestiges of control flew from my mind. I twisted to my right where Mike sat, open-mouthed, and I kissed his shocked lips as I felt the dress slip further, my left nipple springing free.

  Even if I hadn't felt it as I kissed the disbelieving Mike, two sharp intakes of breath from Tim and Simon should have alerted me to something 'wrong'. I let the kiss go on, let our guests see my bared breast.

  Finally, I sat back, still apparently unaware.

  Simon, with a valiant attempt at being a nice guy, coughed and pointed cross at my naked breast, "Um, Amy, your, er, dress...”

  I looked down and froze in apparent horror, "Mike!"

  My husband leaned forward and did his best not to whimper. "Oops," he managed instead.

  I stood quickly then and turned to the wall behind me, muttering apologies over my shoulder, starting to recover the dress. Before I could even cover the nipple I had exposed so brazenly, so wonderfully, Mike was by my side.

  "Here, let me help baby."

  "I can manage-"

  My husband's hand covered my bare breast before I could pull the dress back over it and I couldn't help but squeak "Oh!" before he squeezed firmly and then pulled free, his other hand tugging the material of the dress across my nipple.

  "There!" he managed to say to me with eyes full of love, lust and now, the promise of pleasures to come. He turned me to face the others then, "Show's over, I'm afraid, not that you'll be complaining, I'm sure!"

  I tried to argue my corner, to apologise and promise to be more careful in future, but none of the guys would listen. Simon, in particular, was fulsome in his praise of my 'gorgeous body' and 'delightful tits'. I had to turn away to face Mike when this stranger mentioned my tits but his smile told me all I needed to know.

  Somehow, I turned back to the table and our guests, "Ok, ok, enough already! No harm done, huh?"

  "None at all," Simon agreed, "As accidents go, that was a beautiful one. As are your tits-"

  "Enough, I said! I feel bad enough that you got any eyeful of one of my tits without you rabbiting on about it."

  Mike came to my rescue - sort of, "Yes, you two have now seen how lucky I am, so let's leave my wife's gorgeous tits alone for now."

  I turned a frown in his direction but it faltered at the sight of his unashamed lust for me, "Yes," I managed, "Leave my little breasts alone."

  Mike turned his attention to our guests, "Change of subject time, okay?"

  "If we must," Simon said.

  "Good!" I added, more or less meaning it.

  "So," Mike had the floor, "No more talking about my Amy's gorgeous tits, agreed?"

  "Stop it!" I slapped his arm.

  "Right, so anyway, now you know how lucky I am in that respect. But I tell you what guys, you should see her pretty little bum!"

  "Mike!" This time my slap was harder.

  He grinned at me with something approaching pure lust and my eyes widened as I realised that what he was saying was what he wanted. My eyes widened even further when I realised something else. I love my Mike so much that I wanted to
give him what he wanted.

  "Naughty girl for slapping me!" he admonished.

  I wasn't sure where this was leading, and I suddenly didn't care. I slapped his arm again, “You deserved it!”

  "Amy! I will tan your butt if you disobey again!"

  Would he dare slap my arse? Would he dare pull up the hem of my dress to do it? "You wouldn't!" I slapped again.

  Mike shot to his feet, a fever burning his cheeks. With a rough yank, he pulled me to my feet by my right arm. Everything was happening so fast that I never had time to react - an excuse which I still cling to - and I was dragged to the sofa, my left arm trying to hold the front of the dress over my breasts.

  In front of me, Mike slumped onto the cushions and pulled me sharply downwards, my belly falling across his legs. I spread my arm and hands, naturally, and both of my breasts spilled from the front of the dress, mercifully on the side furthest of my husband's legs, away from Simon and Tim, who were already whistling and cheering.

  "Now, Amy, apologise or I'm honestly going to tan your bum!"

  "You wouldn't dare!" I've no idea what I wanted then.

  "That's just cost you five. Now lift your dress!"

  I knew then that he wanted Simon and Tim to see my panty-clad butt and the thought horrified me even as it thrilled me, "No! Mike, please, no!"

  "Lift it or you'll lose it!

  This was getting out of hand, and bare breasts or not, I made to roll onto my back and onto the floor. "Don't you dare!"

  Of course, I never made it. Mike let me roll a few degrees and grabbed the hem of my dress. He spread his legs and I slithered between them onto my knees, the dress sliding up my legs, hips and then to my shoulders.

  Cool air caressed my thighs above the pull-ups, my belly, my back... my breasts. Panicking now, I tried to pull the dress back down but somehow my head came free and it was left tangled around both arms.

  "Bad girl!" Mike's voice was almost hoarse, "Now get over my knees or I'll parade you around like that!"

  I tried to cover my breasts with the bundle of dress in my arms but Mike was too strong and clearly too desperate for our guests to see as much of me as possible. With shocking ease, he lifted my arms over my head and the cheering increased as Simon and even Tim said how hot my naked, exposed tits were. I felt the heat at my groin, knew that the front of my tiny panties was becoming soaked and I quickly wriggled around and lay belly-down and over Mike's knees. My tits were one thing, but a sight of the front of my panties, rendered transparent by my own excitement was too much to bear. Mike and I had a safe word, I remembered right then, and the thought passed through my mind that I could use it and knew he would react properly. Mike obviously wanted them to see my panty-clad butt - especially to judge by the rock hard erection in his trousers - so that's what he was going to get. I mentally threw the safe word into a bin.

  "Better!" Mike was breathing heavily, "Now isn't that a cute view or what lads?"

  Mike was either being unfair to me or more than fair. If the audience weren't present, he knew from days now long past that being spanked can make me climax with no hands - or more.

  "You're not wrong, Mike," Simon agreed, "Very smackable!"

  I felt rather than saw Mike's hand rise, but I sure as hell felt it when it landed on my right butt cheek. The smack echoed around the room.

  "One!"

  I yelped, shocked to find it so difficult to suppress a giggle.

  "Hey, Mike - that was hard enough to leave a hand-print!" Simon whistled.

  Of all people it was Tim who spoke next, "Yeah, Mike, let's see what's under that silk!"

  I started to struggle at once, suddenly feeling helpless, "Mike, no! You know they'd see more than my bare ass, don't you?"

  "Oh yes, baby," he hissed, his hands somehow clamping me to his thighs, "I won't take them off you."

  "Good!"

  "I can't do it because I need to hold my naughty girl down, don't I?"

  "Mike! Angel! What do you mean?"

  "What do I mean, baby?" he whispered now, "I mean that I think you're more turned on than you've been in years - maybe forever." His voice rose then, "Simon, do the honours."

  "No! I'll kick!"

  "My baby Amy, if you do that, I will roll you over on your back and they can feel how lovely your tits are!"

  "Oh god, no! But please, not my panties!"

  "Simon? Come on!"

  I didn't kick but I wriggled like mad when Simon's hands grabbed at the silky material at my hips. I thought I was winning, thought I was getting somewhere, but then Mike said softly, "Simon, if she wriggles again just grab her tits. That'll stop her."

  I squealed then and lay as stiff as a board. The hands went back to my hips and with a grunt that sounded like a mixture of triumph and deep lust, Simon yanked the panties to my ankles.

  The air seemed to gush over my naked behind, but worse - or better - it slid easily between my slender thighs and across the heat of my sex, my pussy juices now smearing along Mike's thigh. With my hands still entangled in the dress I was helpless, controlled completely by my husband, who had now exposed every inch of me to his friends. And yet...

  And yet, deep inside that naked pussy, somewhere near the very core of my soul, I was on fire. Aflame with lust. The loss of control was doing something primal to me. I wanted to be wanted, badly, truly and deeply.

  Still I struggled, though. "Mike? Let me go, I'll stay like this all night if you want, just let me go!"

  With a whoosh his hand slapped hard against my butt. I squealed in shock and pain, arching forwards in a vain attempt to ameliorate the stinging, oblivious and yet aware, that the move highlighted my wet, hot sex.

  "Two. And I'm not letting go, baby. No matter that smacking flesh-on-flesh really smarts!"

  "I'll do one!” Tim's voice appeared by my side.

  "Oh my god, no!"

  Mike ignored me, exercising his power, "Great idea, Tim!"

  Before I could even make another protest, a new, very different hand landed on my right ass cheek and I wailed, arching my back, no longer caring that my breasts were bared and displayed.

  I slumped back down just as Simon said, "My turn!" and a fourth slap had me wailing.

  The fifth was then dealt out to me, Mike's hand delivering the hardest smack of all.

  I cried out in unalloyed pain - and something more - opening my legs wide to encourage cooling air, and to show these guys how my juices were now spilling from me.

  "Oh man," Simon whistled, "Mike, I can see your Amy's pussy perfectly, and man she is one wet lady!"

  Tim was sighing, "Mike you are one lucky fuck all right, your Amy has the prettiest cunt I think I've ever seen!"

  Mike was grinding his hardness into my belly as I lay across him, "She surely does. My little Amy has everything."

  I was trying not to writhe round, trying my hardest not to let anyone realise how my arousal was escalating. When Mike tugged on the dress binding my hands, I let out a tiny wail trying to make the small orgasmic reaction that spun through me seem like pain to those listening.

  "Amy, baby? They've seen it all now in bits and pieces. Stand with me now, will you?"

  "Oh Mike, no!"

  "Sorry, baby I did make that seem like a question, didn't I? Let me rephrase it then. Stand up. Now!"

  I still resisted but my hands were, almost literally, tied. At first, I slid to the floor next to Mike's legs, hugging them with my body to keep my bare breasts concealed, but then he stood. He took one step away from my naked body, holding the dress above my head, baring me.

  He pulled harder then and I stood, facing Simon and Tim as their eyes drank in my nudity. Deep in my belly the fluttering intensified, and I tried to calm my breathing.

  "Why, baby," Mike said, "I do believe that... what did Tim call it? Oh yes. I do believe that pretty little cunt of yours is dripping wet with lust. Is that right?"

  "No!"

  "Amy baby, don't lie to me. Now is it that wet?"

 
; "Np! But anyway, if you want to know so bad, why don't you just feel for yourself. You know I can't stop you!"

  "She has a point," he said to the guys, "I am rather in control now."

  Something in the way he said those words sent a shiver through my belly. I gave a desultory tug at the dress.

  Mike pulled my hands higher in response, "Seems I might well be in control now but she's still a problem to hang on to. Simon, you help me out here, is she that wet?"

  "Mike! No!"

  Mike took one hand from the dress and grabbed my chin, turning my face to him, "Oh, yes, baby, and I want to look into your eyes as he does it. Simon?"

  There was no ceremony, no teasing build up. Simon's hand covered my wet pussy and first one, then two fingers entered my slippery, hot centre. I started to wail and buck, pushing up on my tiptoes, but the hand followed.

  "Is my baby wet then, Simon? Excited or trying to escape?"

  "Oh, she's close to cumming," Simon assured him, "I can feel the muscles in here twitching and she keeps tightening it on me."

  "Thank you, Simon - maybe I should get a second opinion from you though, Tim. What do you say?"

  "Oh god, no!"

  My denial had no effect of course. With one last squeeze which sent tremors through my clit, Simon's fingers slid from me and shorter, thicker fingers replaced them.

  "Oh Mike," Tim whistled, "Your Amy is one horny piece of meat! She's almost vibrating on me! This cutie is ready to blow!"

  "Are they right, baby? Are you wanting to release all those passions?"

  "No..." It was a whimper.

  Mike hauled me up straighter, "Guys, I know just what will tip her over the edge if she's that close!"

  My eyes widened, "Mike. No!"

  Undeterred he went on, "Remember much earlier when her dress looked as if it was only staying over her tits because her nipples were so hard they were snagging it?"

  "I couldn't take my eyes off them," Simon said as Tim's fingers continued to probe and drive me half mad. Somehow, I still managed to say 'no' again.