An Innocent Game of Yahtzee

Interracial

This one has ended up a little longer than I intended. But I hope you will enjoy it just the same.

And yes, all characters are well over the age of consent, and definitely over 18.

++++++

Is there any such thing as an innocent game when late nights, booze and a competitive streak are involved?

It certainly started out that way, how could it not? After all, it was COVID-19 lockdown, and we could only play by zoom. I can’t remember who came up with the idea of playing Yahtzee this way, but it worked pretty well as a way to keep in touch with some old uni-friends. All you needed was a set of 5 dice at each end and a bit of policing by the other participant to prevent a bit of soft cheating. I say soft cheating as nothing was riding on it after all, just a few drinks and a few games on a Friday night.

It was still competitive though when we got down to it, boys vs girls Yahtzee would never be anything else, just for bragging rights. Luckily we were fairly evenly matched, or at least equally lucky with the dice.

Anyway, I’m getting off track, what you really want to know is how I ended up with my friend’s girl sat on my face, knees either side of my ears, trying desperately not to orgasm, while my wife was trying her hardest to suck me to a climax of my own?

Cue wibbly wobbly time effects and flash back to…

+++++

As I said, it all started innocently enough, with some lockdown boredom relief, ending up in a scoreline of Boys 8 — 7 Girls. We won the lockdown, Mike and I vs his girl Beth, and my Vanessa — they were Looooosers, with a capital Loooooose, and we made sure they knew it.

Eventually the lockdowns ended, we were all vaccinated and testing ourselves twice a week, enough to lower the national rates and let us travel around the country again. With that in mind we planned a get together for a long weekend where Ness and I could drive over to Mike and Beth’s on the Friday, arriving mid-late afternoon and leaving after lunch on Sunday (Beth’s Sunday roast would have made a good last meal for the condemned man). I threw a case of good wine and some interesting cheeses into the boot of the car, along with a small case for me, and one that was at least twice the size for Ness even though it was late spring and she was leaving all her jumpers and heavy coats at home for a change.

Cue traditional British traffic, cue sweltering interior of the car, and cue some rather ripe cheese by the time we pulled up on their drive with all the windows open.

“What the hell is that smell?” asked Beth as she wrinkled her nose

“Nothing but the finest for you!” I responded, brandishing the bag of cheese “we have an unpasteurised camembert, and Roquefort, a very good West Country cheddar, a local Stilton, some Emmenthal, Chaource, and a bit of Wensleydale. My only regret is I couldn’t get hold any vacherin, but that would have probably walked into the house on it’s own by now. Shall we get these into the fridge and crack open a bottle of red?”

She grabbed the bag from me, gave me a hug and peck on the cheek and took the bag from me as I returned for the wine with Ness bringing in the cases. Mike was lurking in his den and greeted me with his usual welcoming bear hug (we’d played rugby together for 4 years, getting up close and personal was NOT an issue). Mike’s den was my idea of the perfect man-cave, all bookshelves, wood panelling, a log fire, side table with decanters and a couple of arm chairs, with the concession to functionality being a superb oak desk and ultra-modern chair.

While the girls caught up over the cabernet, he cracked open a great bottle of Arran 12 year old to wet our whistles while we chatted about how lockdown had been treating us in general and how great it was to be able to get up close and personal again.

Eventually after half an hour of chatter, and well into our second of those, we were interrupted by Ness and Beth, glass of cabernet in hand looking for us to come and help with dinner. Bruschetta with roast peppers and tomatoes, a prawn and smoked salmon risotto, with a boozy tiramisu to follow, if Beth had anything to do with it. Her cooking was legendary as I’ve already mentioned. Back in Uni we were all on the same demanding engineering course and had gravitated together during lectures, which eventually morphed into study sessions, late night drinking and what became a tradition of at least one meal a week usually directed by Beth even though the rest of us were competent cooks in our own right. That had worked for a good four years, and that was as far as it ever went, Mike was with Beth, and Ness and I were together and we were all happy with that.

+++++

The evening turned into a general catch up between us all, there’s only so much that can be done over zoom of course. The Yahtzee got broken out as always, a couple more bottles of wine went down and we all petered out about 11:30, us knackered from the drive, and Mike and Beth from playing the dutiful hosts. I was so tired I can’t even remember escort tanıtımları who won the games.

What I can remember very definitely though, is the giggling coming through the walls from the bedroom next door. Mike was shushing Beth, but you could hear her clearly (aided by many glasses of wine reducing her inhibitions of course),

“But I’m so horny Mike, can’t you just help me out a little bit? I’ll make it worth your while, look.”

I could only imagine what she was asking him to look at, but it must have done the trick as the next thing I heard was “Fuck, Beth, that is so good, right there, what the hell are you doing with that tongue!”

Ness had woken up as well by now and was staring at me trying hard to suppress a giggle at the “oooh!, Aaah! Fuck, right there, get your fingers in me right now!” coming from the other room.

“Do you remember that flat you and Mike shared back at uni? You know, the one with the paper thin walls, and we could hear them at it like rabbits. Do you think they could hear us as well?” She whispered with a sly grin on her face. “Do you think we could make them hear us right now?”

“I’m sure we could.” I replied, as my fingers began to wander across her nipples, hardening under my fingers, and then further south, to her slick folds “seems like you’re getting a little turned on listening, hey? Are you turning into a bit of a voyeur in your old age?”.

I didn’t give her time to reply as I followed my fingers with my tongue, first flicking across her now erect left nipple, and then down across her firm belly to the top of her neatly waxed bush. I didn’t head directly for her clit, but followed my fingers down, with a long lick top to bottom, taking in the taste of her womanhood, a taste I’d had so many times and still craved like a drug. Her response was a deep indrawn breath, and suppressed moan.

Adjusting my body to get better access I grinned up at her and said “Are we going to give them a run for their money? No need to keep things quiet now, they aren’t.”

Which was very true, you could now here their grunts, groans and cries.

“Yes, there, oh my fucking god, harder!” clearly heard through the wall. Competition I thought, let’s go. And with that I redoubled my efforts, fingers and tongue. Starting with tongue exploring the soft, silky folds of Vanessa’s beautiful cunt, getting my tongue as deep in her as I could as my fingers started to gently flick across her clit. As her hips started to buck, her hands wound into the back of my hair, pulling me upwards.

“Get that tongue on my clit right now!” She gasped “And get your fingers in me right now!”

Who was I to object, tongue lashing her clit, two fingers sliding in and out of her slick hole, crooking upwards, as she yelped in delight

“Oh fuck, yes!” No need to tell her to keep her voice up now, she was absolutely in the moment and could have been anywhere, but definitely in the moment.

“Oh Fuck! Oh Fuck! Fuck Me! Fuck me now, I’m fucking coming!”

I’d never heard her so vocal, clearly the idea of being heard, plus a few glasses of wine had had their effect as she came noisily on my tongue.

“Now get that cock in me!” She commanded, and who was I to disagree. Rolling on my back I pulled her over me, as she reached down to grab my rock-hard dick, position it at her entrance and impale herself in one motion.

She let out the loudest noise I’ve ever heard from her, a guttural roar followed by “Oh God, yes, that’s it, so fucking huge in me, I’m going to fuck you or die trying!” As she started grinding back and forth, at the same time as bucking her hips up and down, in a rhythm that would not have me lasting long, but her enthusiasm was clearly taking over.

“Oh yes, that’s it, harder, harder, pull my nipples!” as her hand went to her clit and she started to frig herself as she fucked me relentlessly, until as she stiffened, gasped loudly and fell forward onto me as I came hard inside her.

I don’t remember much else that night other than that I slept the sleep of the innocents (quite rare, really).

++++

Next morning, Saturday, breakfast was a subdued affair, I think partly from the hangovers and also partly a sense of embarrassment, nobody wanting to go anywhere near the previous night’s mutual entertainment which meant that the conversation was somewhat stilted and limited to breakfast, coffee, more coffee and even more coffee.

Eventually, but about 0930, we seemed to be feeling normal again, and Mike suggested taking the train from the village into the local town, maybe do some of the tourist stuff, have a wander by the river, maybe a bit of shopping or something. I suggested an early dinner as well, our treat as a thank you for his and Beth’s hospitality. For some reason that elicited a broad grin from Mike, as Beth went as red as a beetroot.

Anyway we had a great day, starting in the morning with some of the tourist attractions of the very old town, with gaziantep escort telefonları a ruined castle, and a cathedral going back over a thousand years. There was also a nice little museum dedicated both to local historic figures and also housing a collection of artifacts relating to the Anglo-Saxon history of the area. It also had an adjoining gallery and I persuaded Ness to let me buy an interesting bronze sculpture by a local artist.

A quick spot of lunch, followed by a stroll along the river to walk it off, and we let the girls persuade us to head to the shops, on the promise that we wouldn’t be too long. It wasn’t how long I was worried about, but how quickly they could empty mine and Mike’s wallets when working together.

Oddly they both started in the kitchen section, Ness picking up some new espresso cups and Beth some nice chunky martini glasses

“We can christen these tonight.” She said, “I remember how lethal your martinis were back in the day.”

Then it took the turn I was dreading, clothes. Luckily this was a decent kind of emporium that took pity on us poor blokes, having some nice comfy armchairs near the changing rooms where they kept bringing us coffee, and after we’d been there about half an hour with Beth and Ness going in and out with copious armfuls of clothes, all the while whispering and giggling to each other, they offered us a selection of drinks, Mike taking an aged rum, and me an 18 year old Islay.

“About last night,” he said after taking a few sips “sorry if we got carried away, but I don’t know what got into Beth, I couldn’t get her to stop. I think the idea of you being able to hear really turned her on, and she was uncontrollable. I can say it the best sex we’ve had in months though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied “When Ness woke up she was the same, she seemed determined to give you guys a good show, so I just went with it. She said it reminded her of that flat you and I shared back in Uni. I don’t know about you but we could hear you guys through the walls there as well.”

“Oh yes, we could definitely hear you.” He said with a sly wink. “how’s your whisky?”

“Bloody good, your rum?”

“Hmmm, pretty good, we should come back here again maybe?”

At that point the girls came back out, both dressed in similar, light, flouncy summer dresses, you know the kind of thing, strappy, ephemeral, bouncy, imagination provoking. Clearly neither was wearing a bra underneath as the little straps would have shown them up, and in any case, there were clearly nipples on show on both girls. I’d never really thought about Beth as anything other than a friend, but last night had my imagination going big time, and seeing a good bit of cleavage on show, with those nipples doing their best to push straight through the flimsy cloth had me a little uncomfortable in the trouser department.

Grabbing my hand, Beth dragged me to my feet “In you come, you need to help Ness choose.”

“You too Mike.” Said Ness, pulling him to his feet, “Beth and I have it down to a shortlist, a few dresses, and some accoutrements you will really love.”

How could we refuse? Down went the rest of the drinks, and we followed.

++++

Of course, I have no idea what went on in the other changing room, but as soon as the curtain swished closed behind us, Ness pulled the dress over her head, confirming the lack of bra. She wasn’t overendowed, but her C-Cups were a perfect handful. Many women could not have pulled off that dress, but those still-pert breasts with dark pink nipples sticking out like coat pegs certainly could.

“You like?” She twirled, tit’s bouncing, showing off a very tiny pale yellow thong that she certainly wasn’t wearing that morning. “let me show you this as well.” She said, reaching for another strapless summer dress, this time a mix of bright yellows, through to coppery orange and red in abstract swirls, seemingly held up by nothing more than willpower and elastic.

The next half hour was a whirl of new dresses, blouses, underwear all taken on and off by my wife, the quick-change master. Finally she told me to turn around, she had one last surprise.

“Ready!” I turned around and my jaw dropped. She was wearing the tightest fitting, figure hugging basque I’d ever seen, even in those costume drama’s set in the 18th century. It squeezed, hugged, and lifted in all the right places. Covering much, but leaving little to the imagination. Dark red-wine colour with black lace trimmings, it set off her raven black hair perfectly, showed just the right amount of cleavage and the merest hint of an areola peeking over the top.

“You like?” She asked, her gaze drifting down to the bulge in my trousers, “Hmmm, looks like it has the seal of approval. Not one to be worn in public, but maybe I’ll give you a special showing when we get home!”

The bill was eyewatering, but we didn’t do it very often, and we’d both had a decent bonus that year, so what the hell.

That gaziantep escort bayan telefonları over with, thoughts turned to dinner, we were planning on heading to a pub we all knew, with good local beers, and well crafted food with some good wines as well. The girls said that they would meet us there in about 45 minutes or so, and to go steady before they got there, with a parting smile, as they walked away chatting.

Having booked a dining table and settled into a comfy chair to wait, we both relaxed with a good craft ale in hand, a good hoppy IPA for me, and a malty best bitter for Mike.

“That was a little crazy back in the department store.” I said to Mike, “a good selection though and Ness seemed to enjoy giving me a little show.”

“Beth too, she was in and out of those outfits as fast as I could see, right there in the changing room, flashing everything to me as she jumped in and out of the matching underwear.”

I didn’t mention the “special outfit”, just gave a typical male, noncommittal grunt and made a comment about the beer. We were on the second as the girls joined us, with another bag in hand each, this time looking like some expensive beauty products and lotions.

“How far behind are we?” Asked Beth.

“This is only our second, what can we get you, or shall we move straight to dinner?”

“Oh definitely dinner.” Said Ness, “I’m famished with all this walking around, it’s almost as if I didn’t have any lunch.”

“Where did you guys go anyway?” asked Mike.

“Oh, just to pick up a few essentials.” Replied Beth, waving her bag in his face.

The food, as always at that pub was excellent, good old British dishes brought up to a high standard in a modern way without loosing their origins. Another two bottles of wine were shared, plus coffee and after dinner cognacs, before we poured out into the railway station forecourt in time for the 8:30pm train. Fifteen minutes later we were back in their village, and 15 minutes after that, back at Mike and Beth’s place.

“We’ll just take these up and freshen up. My feet are killing me, and I need to get out of these shoes.” Said Ness heading upstairs followed by Beth “Be a darling and crack open a decent chilled Sav Blanc would you.”

++++

They both emerged about 30 mins later, walking down the stairs as if they were society belles making a grand entrance, both wearing similar silky pajamas they’d bought earlier. They got to the bottom of the stairs, gave us a twirl

“You Like?” asked Beth, Mike and I harumphed noncommittal responses as neither wanted to be seen as ogling the other’s wife. Ness came over and gave me a hug.

“Oh, that’s so much better. I feel human again.” She said, and then whispering in my ear “I’m wearing that tiny little lemon yellow thong and bra I bought earlier, if you’re a good boy, I might let you take them off me later. With your teeth.”

Whoa, where was this coming from? After last night as well. It seemed Ness had found this whole new sultry side, not that I was complaining. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mike and Beth similarly hugging and I couldn’t help but admire that arse, stretching the satin pajamas taut across those two delectable globes. I imagined my hands caressing them as my hand slid up to the waistband and then slipped inside to cup those cheeks.

“you OK dear?” I heard, as I snapped myself out of it.

“Sure, just drifting a bit, that was a long day today. I’m sure I’ll be fine if we take it easy the rest of the night.”

Well, it started off easy, just chatting in front of the log fire as we snuggled on the two comfy sofa’s, good wine, getting into some of the cheeses we’d taken with us and, as normal a game of Yahtzee.

The first game was pretty even, not a lot in it at all right through to the end, but the girls just pipped us at the post by 25 points.

“Rematch!” Yelled Mike, “Round two, we’ll smash you this time. But first, bathroom! Pour more drinks Dave, if you please.” He headed off, not lurching by any means, but showing a little wobble in his step perhaps. As we all probably were by now.

“More wine ladies?” I asked, topping up the glasses with doses of Sav Blanc or Primitivo as appropriate, while Beth and Ness headed to the kitchen to get more snacks, amidst more whispering and giggling as Mike returned from the bathroom.

“Big game this one. We need at least one Yahtzee each, I’m not losing two-nil tonight. Have you bought your big game Dave?” I assured my slightly inebriated friend that I was on top Yahtzee form, no problems.

And I was. We won a comprehensive victory by 150 points, helped by both us getting both Yahtzee and top half bonuses with them both missing their yahtzees on the last roles of the dice. Much crowing by Mike, more drinks and snacks before a final deciding round, all tiredness now drained away as the adrenaline flowed through the competitive streak we all had.

“One more match,” I said, “we need a decider.”

“We need to make it worth something this time though.” Replied Ness with a wine-induced belch. I could see she was definitely on the tipsy side as she was looking very relaxed.

“Oh! Oh! You remember that time in uni when we tried to play strip poker, but we were too drunk and fell asleep?” Piped up Beth, bouncing up and down like a giddy schoolgirl, “we could do strip-yahtzee instead! We need some rules though.”

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