First Summer: Zoe's Naked Sex Party

Because we were completely focused on each other and just having a great time with the dance we weren't really watching what was going on around us. Things got a bit stickier when, as I arched my back and Greg spun me around, I suddenly realised I was looking up at a lot of faces completely focused on us. Our dancing had started to attract attention and other couples had stopped dancing and cleared a space to watch us. As they gave us space, light started to penetrate where previously there was none and suddenly I realised that only the closeness of our bodies was making ambiguous what was really going on. I was even more alarmed when I saw my brother Brad in the front row of the watchers.

What can you do? Hope your blushing is not too obvious? Stop or at least slow the dancing to take away the incentive to watch? Get in closer to others so you can lose yourself in the shadows again? Pull away just enough to let him slide out without coming away far enough to have his erection flip up between your bodies? We did all of that. I suppose I'll never know whether anyone did know what we were up to.

Greg got his erection back under control and we took a break to go and get a drink and get out of the public gaze for a minute. I couldn't help notice as we came back through the living room there were now several used condoms in the previously empty glass bowl; but it seems there was a protocol in its use. You didn't just put the full condom in there. You emptied it first. The empty used condoms were floating over a pool of cum. Yuck!

We took our drink outside and joined a group standing just off the deck having a break. Because we were out of the arc of the lights it took a while for my night vision to adjust and let me see who we were talking to, even if I recognised the voices. As it did I was distracted by some movement in the distance over near the property line. It took me a moment to work out what it was. Then I had an OMG moment. It was the silhouette of a guy on a sunlounge pounding vigorously away at a girl underneath him. So that's why they were out there!

Zoe started to slow the dance pace down a bit further announcing it's time for some "close dancing".

Most of the old hands at these parties knew what was required and complied. A couple of newbies, and perhaps a more nervous veteran or two didn't get close enough and had Zoe physically merged their bodies with her hands bringing the girl's body into full contact with his; from the breasts squashed against his chest to the waist firmly up against his – well – whatever else it was pushed against, it was up against his cock. Then she settled back to her own dancing; keeping an eye on everyone to make sure we were all still compliant.

Greg and I of course had no problems following the rules, although Greg became aroused again; but then as I looked around, from what I could glimpse between the bodies in the low light, so did every other male – not surprisingly.

After about 5 minutes, suddenly Zoe insists everyone changes partners. This caught me completely by surprise. Kate had been dancing close by for some time now; her partner Tim often brushing against my bottom as we danced in close proximity. Instantly Tim broke off from Kate, turned towards me, passed Kate's hand to Greg and grabbed mine with nothing more than a "why don't we swap", leaving the guy behind me tapping me on my shoulder no chance of being considered. He put an arm around my back and pulled me firmly against his body as he started to move in time to the music.

Tim reminded me of one of my Uni friends; Karl. He was typical of Kate's selection of guys. Straight off the front cover of a bodice ripper paperback, square jawed and a solid muscular body, although barely as tall as me – and thus much shorter than Greg. It was clear that he did some sort of body building and I could feel that the arm around me and the chest muscle my breast pushed against both had a hard solid feel to them. Indeed there was something about him that suggested steroid user.

There'd been a time when I was ovulating that I'd found myself slightly attracted to Karl's so called charms. Tim didn't have the benefit of my bodily cycles and in any case Greg's way of rationalising transitional beauty had infected me. It wasn't hard to see that Tim's solid body now would become a rather fat unattractive one in a decade or two.

As we danced I discovered he was the acting captain of the local grade football club, had a rebuilt hot rod of a car, was keen on body building, an ace carpenter and renowned as a lover. What did he learn about me? Nothing! Any question from me produced a stream of boastful information from him. If I tried to offer any insight into myself I got cut off as he picked up on some point to tell me more about Tim.

So here I am dancing with this guy, his erection drawing arcs on my stomach leaving what felt like a trail of pre-cum on it as it went, thinking "Kate, Kate, you should be doing so much better than this". She's smart – smarter than me – and stunningly beautiful and she keeps lumbering herself with these Neanderthal types. I found myself transfixed watching her and Greg dance together. Even in the poor light I could see there was no gap between their bodies. Her breasts were pushed firmly up against his chest and I could easily imagine his erection pushed into her stomach; no doubt also leaving a stain of pre-cum tainted by my own bodies fluids on her in the process. Between them an animated conversation was going on; laughter, a teasing banter, even once or twice the "serious" look Greg gets when he's dealing with a comment or reaction that requires more sincerity.

Unless you knew them well you could believe they were made for each other. You'd be wondering how I could possible tolerate seeing them together like that. But there was a single fatal flaw with Kate that would always keep Greg at arm's length from her and make me feel entirely secure with the friendship between them.

Somehow Kate had been damaged where romantic relationships were concerned; probably in the course of her parents' marriage breakdown. I had no doubt she desired them, even desperately wanted them. But she always sabotaged them; did something to put a distance between her and a potential romantic possibility that destroyed the relationship and drove the lover away. She could always find a physical lover – there'd been a long string of Tim types even in the short time I'd known her which no doubt ensured she wasn't sexually deprived. But that was as far as she'd get.

Many years ago Greg had felt the sting of that sabotage. The memory of it and the understanding he thereby gained of that flaw was a complete inoculation against any future romantic attachment to her, but they'd been great friends before that and Greg had the good common sense to rebuild that friendship afterwards.

Mind you "together like that" had acquired a whole new meaning in the last few months. I doubt Greg had done so much as put an arm around her before I'd known him. Yet this was the second time he'd had cause to embrace her naked body in the last few weeks. The first time he'd been intensely embarrassed by how it had aroused him, so I didn't doubt this would be enough to keep him up too – given the state I'd delivered him to her in. But now he looked entirely comfortable in her arms; there was not the slightest hint of reticence on his part being so close to her naked body.

"What school did you go to?"

While I'd been thinking about Kate and Greg, the Neanderthal had been prattling away about this car. I'd only half been attuned to it least he caught me out. Now I had to refocus my brain to address his question. I told him the name of it and that it was an all-girls school. I'd barely finished before I knew he was a school prefect and captain of the football team. Plus there was some conversation that I think was meant to infer I didn't know how deprived I'd been not being exposed at school to guys like him; and I suspect I'm using 'exposed' there within both meanings of that word. All of this I responded to with platitudes, just hoping I could soon get my Greg back.

What created an ambiguity in that desire was the fact it was an absolute turn on to me to see Greg up close and personal with another girl like that; all the more so when it was Kate. It was almost like watching girl porn.

"Am I nuts?" I hear you say. It worked only because I wasn't threatened by it and it somehow made me feel terribly privileged and lucky to have Greg when other girls seemed to want to handle him so closely. I know, it's a crazy sort of psychology and I can't explain it any better than that, but it was like the minute I got him back I wanted to jump him and take him then and there to prove my ownership of him. I even liked the idea of him smearing her – marking her if you will - with his pre-cum; as revolting as I might have found the Neanderthal's.

"Want a root?" [#]

[# Author's note; Australian slang for sex. Never tell an Australian you're rooting for your team!]

What the? Tim drew my attention back to him with a question that took my breath away. I would have liked to achieve more of a put down, but settled for –

"No thanks, I'm spoken for."

"That's Ok he doesn't have to know."

I'm sure he's now rubbing his cock up and down on my stomach as we dance – subtly, but enough. I think I can feel it throbbing. I just hope he doesn't come. I look for a put down answer short of being abusive.

"No, you're definitely not my type and that's not my style."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

By now I'm trying to get more separation between our bodies and are looking for a chance to ditch him altogether. I give him a short "I won't."

Zoe comes to the rescue just in time by calling for another change of partner, but has other ideas about me getting Greg back any time soon. Just before she called for a change, I glimpsed a girl talking to Zoe. Next thing I knew that particular girl is being subtly manoeuvred into Greg's arms with the change of partners. My first thought was that was just rude.

At least I managed to dump Tim. With Zoe's call for a change I get three taps on my shoulder. This time I have time to look around and see what I'm getting into. One criteria has become very important. They must be tall. Dancing with Tim has made me realise a short guy with a small erection puts its tip revolting low on your pubis. I want something that contacts my body at a safe height. What I'll do if he doesn't yet have an erection and grows one while I'm dancing with him I haven't yet worked out.

So I end up with a guy called, appropriately enough, Guy. He'd been in a group we'd been talking to before and seemed OK. He was a more run of the mill guy. Medium height and build, a handsome enough face without being anything special. He was also a more run of the mill guy in how he handled this up close and personal nakedness. Tim had simply assumed I'd want full body contact with him and short of struggling with him, gave me that. Like the rest of us, Tim was slightly embarrassed by it and was happy to maintain a lighter contact; just the unavoidable brushing of nipples on chest and dancing erection that seemed the minimum that would justify itself as close dancing in this condition. His conversation was also better.

Still, his parting words as Zoe called for another change of partner was still a suggestion we sneak off to one of the sun lounges.

Three more times a change of partner was called for. Three more times I found myself with multiple suitors for the next dance; although at least I started to learn to pay attention as to who was manoeuvring themselves alongside me before the change of partners was called for. And finally twice more I was sexually propositioned. Zoe's friends were nothing if not an optimistic lot.

Plus three more times I had to watch Greg with his body firmly up against a naked woman who wasn't me. Of the five of them, there was only one I found threatening.

It wasn't Kate with the closest thing to a Barbie Doll figure nature is capable of building and a face so pretty men have been known to melt in its presence. Nor was it any of another three girls with impressive breasts, hourglass figures and model looks. No it was a tall skinny blonde with modest breasts whose most eye catching feature was a smile that just captured and held your attention.

In part that was because I knew only she would pass Greg's three babies and ten year test; as in.. "what will they look like after....?" Normally it was only a test he used defensively; to explain to me why a well stacked girl wasn't that much of a distraction to me. But with this girl it just increased by insecurity.

The real trouble was that in many ways looked a bit like me and she seemed to be more than just taking the chance of having a dance with him. She seemed to be strongly flirting with him. There was something about the way I could see her looking at him; something about the way she used her right hand, which instead of being around his back was either drawing shapes on his upper chest as she talked to him or flicking her hair. Once I even saw her stroke his face.

I've learnt to deal with girls flirting with Greg. I've learnt to recognise the flirting isn't mutual, to see that Greg plays a dead bat in response to them, neither encouraging them nor being rude to them or doing anything to make them feel bad. I suspect sometimes he doesn't even recognise the extent to which he's being flirted with. And above all I now have the security of knowing that his mine; not just in some creepy stalker sense, but in the sense of he being the one who grants me that possession.

Still I was glad when his turn dancing with Jill – as I later learn her name to be – came to an end.

Finally at last Zoe stopped playing her little sex partner games and I got Greg back. I had many questions for him. I wanted a run down on every girl he danced with and how many times he'd been propositioned. Three times as it turned out, including by Jill; only Kate and one other girl hadn't come on to him. He swore that he could think of nothing except getting me back and he'd not really found any of the girls attractive; even if – like every other guy on the dance floor – he represented back to me with the boner I'd left him with. Mind you he'd been keeping an eye on me too. He knew every guy I danced with; and fair enough too.

I also wanted to know what he found out from Kate. Whatever they were talking about seemed interesting.

Greg had asked her why she'd been the first to get dressed again. Typically Kate had responded something like –

"So you think a tart like me doesn't need clothes."

It's hard to type that without it sounding almost abusive; something likely to be followed by a slap on the face and a walk away. But that's to misunderstand Kate. The answer she'd expect from Greg, and the one he gave her, was -

"I might not have put it that way, but something along those lines."

In that regard Kate is like Greg and myself; maybe it's why were all such good friends and a bit distant from others. There's a certain directness to our styles that, even though we don't intend it, others can find offensive or at least unsettling. Maybe were all just a little bit autistic or something like that.

Kate's answer by the way was that in her innocence it never occurred to her it wasn't acceptable to find other clothes even if she was comfortable with a degree of nakedness. She had them in her tent, she might as well put them on. Kate was not the type to go through the angst I went through of conforming to the group norm.

She also told Greg she was really pissed off with Tim. Unlike Kate, Tim was an old hand at these parties. He knew there's be a change of partners and he'd made sure they were always dancing right next to Greg and myself so he could get his hands on me at the first opportunity; being completely distracted and obsessed while he was dancing with Kate. Until the call for a change of partners was made, Kate didn't realise what he was up to – just that his focus was not on her. Kate said he'd be lucky if he still got a root from her tonight. She only had paired off with him at the party because they'd gone out together in the past, she knew him better than any of the other guys and she had the hots for his body; but his behaviour had rapidly cooled that. Indeed I noted that Kate didn't hook back up with Tim after the partners rotation finished. Good on her.

And so the night continued. From time to time the numbers hanging around the house seemed to diminish somewhat. I couldn't help myself; joining a conversation out of the direct light from the house, I gazed over towards the sun lounges. Sure enough they were justifying their presence out there; nearly always occupied by a pair of bodies giving each other a good workout. At one stage I had this strange vista of all three down one side of the house being occupied by a pair of bodies – one on top of the other – the top one pounding away. If only they'd managed to do it in time to the music from the house you could have called it art and got a grant for it. For those less exhibitionist about it, I noticed the bedroom doors regularly closed too.

Suddenly we realised it was about 2 am and well past our bedtime. Anyhow we were starting to get the hots for each other and we thought we had somewhere better than what were the now well used sun lounges to let our now boiling passions loose. We figured we were still being party poopers by retiring for the night, so decided to do so discretely – just telling Kate what we were doing.

She indicated she come with us as far as her tent as she was keen to call it quits too.

She was alone as she came with us. I thought she might have brought herself some company and couldn't help but ask whether she scored during the night. She had, not with Tim but with another guy she'd met called Wayne and while she thought the guy was OK – even quite nice - he didn't merit a shared bed for the night. That's Kate; her own woman.

As we got to Kate's tent we said our good nights. Kate has always been tactile with both Greg and me. Greetings and goodbyes always merit a hug. Without even thinking, she hugged me and gave me a peck on the cheek, just as she had every time we'd parted for the last 2 ½ months. But this time we were naked. It wasn't our bikini tops that clashed together or touched each other's chests. Instead like gears on two gear wheels, our breasts interlocked, each of us with a nipple touching the skin on the chest between the breasts of the other. There was nothing sexual about it, it's just it was a form of contact that was foreign to the world I'd started this holiday in.

Then I stood aside as she said her goodnights to Greg too; her nipples touching his chest, the tip of his erection lightly pushed against her stomach. As I said before, I knew this was no threat, nothing to be jealous of and with that knowledge it always seemed that the sight of Greg in intimate contact with another girl simply excited me – made me want him more urgently. I knew I had a cure for that erection that I'd be delivering in the next few minutes; that's all that really mattered.

As we held hands and walked off toward the car Greg called back over the noise spill from the party.

"You know where the car is if things get out of control."

We fussed about washing our teeth using the water and bowl we'd brought specifically for that purpose; Greg afterwards attending to closing some netting around a couple of the doors so we could crack the windows open for ventilation without letting mozzies in. That meant he ended up inside the back of the car where I could see him in the feint illumination of the cabin light. Me? I was loitering around the front of the car.