Melanie and John were running late. It was, after a fashion, Melanie’s fault, so she didn’t feel it was her place to tell John to slow down as he sent their black Cadillac zigzagging through the suburban streets. As they progressed further into the hills which overlooked the city the houses became more expansive and the plots of land larger and more ornate. Their destination was Susan and Richard Fletcher’s summer house party.
Richard Fletcher was a short mousey looking man who overcame these drawbacks by being overly friendly to everyone he met. He worked in movies which is where he had met Susan. He had been assistant producer on a B grade western for which Susan had been auditioning and they hit it off from there. Susan had got the part in no small thanks to Richard and now, even though it had proved to be her only role, told everyone that she was an actress.
Several weeks had passed since the gala and Melanie and John were looking forward to the social interaction.This was the first house party of the season and would set the bar for the rest that followed over summer. If there was one thing Richard knew how to do it was throw a party. John had once quipped that Hollywood being all glitz and glam in place of substance was perfect for Richard and his over keenness.
As they sped along the thankfully quiet streets Melianie gazed out the passenger window at the houses flicking past as she thought dreamily back to earlier in the afternoon.
John had just finished a quick shower and was in the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist getting ready for the house party that afternoon. Melanie snuck up behind him and wrapped one arm around his chest, feeling his defined pecs, while the other slithered under the towel and took a firm grip of his cock. She could feel the smooth warmth of his shaft growing in her hand. She gave a few experimental tugs feeling the skin rolling back and forth, getting tighter over the hardening meat of John’s member.
“You know it’s not fair to get a man worked up if you’re not going to do anything with him,” John said playfully.
“Who says I’m not going to do anything with you.”
Melanie pulled John’s towel off and let it drop to the floor. She then spun him around so he was facing her, planted her two small hands in the middle of his chest and pushed him back onto the bed. While he lay there his full mast pointing to the ceiling Melaine slipped her yellow summer dress from her shoulders and quickly shucked her underwear.
Melanie climbed aboard John’s legs and sat for a moment with his seven inch cock resting against her belly so he could see just how far up into her he would go. For a brief moment John thought Melanie looked perfect. He scanned down her body. Starting with her emerald green eyes and deep red hair hanging loosely in slight curls over her pale shoulders dusted with freckles. He stopped to linger on her breasts. They were petite, A cup mounds capped with dark pink nipples which jutted out aggressively. Her cream skin continued down to womanly hips and her fiery red bush.
Melanie then raised herself up on her knees and grabbed John’s cock at the base and started to run the engorged head up and down the silken folds of her pussy. John put his hands behind his head and relaxed back to focus on the sensation. Melanie would manoeuvre the tip of the head into her cunt hole and then when she felt him tense up ready to drive home she pulled it back out and continued to tease him, rubbing the head around her clit.
Finally when she felt she had brought him to the edge of his senses, she slowly eased herself down, inch by inch, onto his pulsing rod. When she was fully impaled she rolled her hips, grinding her clit against his pubic bone and moaning. She went slow at first, lifting herself up until just the head of John’s cock was in her and then easing back down again. She could feel herself being filled up each time she bottomed out. It felt good to be stretched a little by John’s girth and each time she would rock back and forth feeling the stretch just a little bit more.
It wasn’t too long before Melanie wanted more. She placed her hands on John’s chest for balance while she shuffled up so she was squatting over him. Being able to lift off with her feet on the bed she could get height and speed and she began riding John like a stallion.
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she bottomed out and her clit went slamming into John sending a jolt of electricity through her body. Her gasps turned into grunts as she got closer and closer to climax. Then suddenly her whole body shook and she collapsed down on top of John, her legs spasming in ecstasy.
John waited until the shuddering subsided and then rolled over so he was now on top of Melanie. He began rocking his hips sliding in and out of Melanie who was wetter than ever after having cum so hard. Feeling his own climax coming John began pistoning vigorously into Melanie’s petite body which he held tightly against himself.
When he finally came he buried himself deep inside her sopping cunt and Melanie reached around and ran her nails down his back.
They lay on the bed, painting, John still deep inside his wife, basking in the glow of their lovemaking. John bent his head down and kissed Melanie deep on the mouth before saying, “Kitty’s got some claws.”
“Just think of it as marking my territory,” she replied coquettishly.
Melanie was pulled back to the present moment when John pulled the car up to the curb to park outside Fletcher’s house.
There was a fleet of cars, Studebakers, Cadillacs and Packards all lined up in a rainbow of colours and glistening chrome indicating that the party was already in full swing. The cars lined both sides of the street and the streets which branched off the main road indicating that there could easily be one hundred people in attendance.
The house had a modern look to it. Large sections of the wall were glass panels broken up by a rock facade. As Malanie and John walked up to the house they could see some of the guests mingling in the lounge but they could tell from the noise that the real party was taking place out the back. Walking through a gate that had been propped open they saw a pool and deck give way to a grass backyard.
There was a lightness in the atmosphere. Everyone had a drink in their hand and a smile on their face. People were gathered in small groups that would occasionally break up, its members joining other conversations seamlessly. Even the pool was in use with guests floating about, occasionally splashing each other good naturedly and occasionally joining in the conversations that were taking place nearby on the deck.
There was a bar set up against one wall where Melanie was poured a generous chardonnay and John got a scotch and soda. Thus armed they made their way through the throngs of guests until they spotted someone they knew.
The group they joined just happened to contain their hosts Richard and Susan as well as an investment broker and his wife, a pair of air hostesses who had come to the party together and a sociology professor. The group were all silent except for the professor who was pontificating on the actions of Senator Joe McCarthy.
“If we are supposed to be under threat of a communist revolution then surely there would be a greater number of communists in the community. We would know them, they would be our neighbors and friends. With our lives so intertwined within our communities it would be impossible for someone to hide their communist ideologies if they truly held them.”
Melanie noticed the way everyone refused to engage the professor in his theories. She was not so relaxed about the hunt for communists that was coming out of Washington as her fellow housewives. Though she knew they didn’t have the benefit of her education. If the topic came up at all, which it rarely did, the general consensus amongst the social club wives was that the government must know what they were doing and were just making America safe.
The party was a fairly liberal affair and so no one was coming out to challenge the professor but there had been enough messaging around about informing on suspicious people that no one wanted to be associated with inflammatory talk like this. They all used a pause in the diatribe to break away from the conversation on the pretext of seeing one of their friends or getting a refill on their drink.
This was the flow of the party, small groups would chat for a while then break apart like atoms spinning out to find a new cluster to latch onto. If they were lucky Melanie and John would find some friends or a couple they knew to start a conversation with. Otherwise they would start by introducing themselves and asking the obvious questions first, how did the others know the Fletchers, who else they knew at the party, and what did the men do for a living.
As the day wore on more people came, some left, but the party continued. The pool was in use and as dusk dropped its darkened but rosy glow over the party people were happy to substitute bathers for underwear. It marked a clear delineation between the uptight W.A.S.P people and those happy for a hollywood style party.
As night fell Melanie found herself on her own. John had been ensnared down the far end of the garden by a group of men smoking cigars and talking business. She was aware of the phenomenon of business deals being brokered and made at parties such as this one that she didn’t feel at all slighted. John had his work to do and she respected that.
Melanie had seen some of the social club women around but she had no inclination to talk to them knowing the bet that they had all made amongst themselves to steal John from her. There were some more distant acquaintances but they were all keenly engaged in conversation.
Standing by herself at the outskirts of the party she saw something of interest. Someone had brought a camera to the party and had left it on a nearby table. Melanie moved to the table and picked it up expecting to be confronted by its shutterbug owner. However, no one was forthcoming. Obviously the enjoyment of being a party photographer had worn off and the camera’s owner had found something more diverting to take up their time.
Melanie had little experience with a camera. She had been limited to taking happy snaps while on vacation. The machine she picked up was a top of the line model. It had an automatic winding mechanism and reusable flash which could be switched on or off. There were thirty six exposures on the role of film with thirty remaining.
For something to do Melanie decided to take a turn as party photographer. Some groups spread out, linked arm in arm smiling for the camera as she went around the party. However she preferred the candid shots she got of people mid conversation, they seemed more real that way.
With ten shots left she left the poolside and skirted down the side of the house on her way to the front yard to see if there were any people there. She was squeezed in between oversized ferns and the fence when a beam of light sliced its way out from in between nearly closed curtains. It was only luck that made her stop and peer into the well lit room.
It was one of the bedrooms of the Fletcher’s house. Normal party etiquette would have made this room off limits to guests and Melanie almost kept on walking when she saw Constance Clarke from the social club which piqued her curiosity and kept her looking. It was dark out now and there was no chance she would be seen from inside the well lit room and the ferns and other assorted plants kept her hidden from the rest of the party.
The gap in the curtains gave her a wide view of the room. She could see the bed and the dresser with its large mirror. Constance was wearing a long silver dress that showed off her shoulders and stuck to her beauty pageant curves. Her blond hair hung down around her neck in loose curls. Then Melanie saw the men. There were three of them, not dissimilar to any of the other men at the party, clean cut, in their thirties, well dressed.
Constance seemed to ask something of one of the men, a man with brown hair and a wide grin on his face. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a clear plastic bag filled with white powder. He emptied the white powder onto the table top of the dresser and Constance sat down on the small chair. A second man, with slicked back coal black hair, handed her a dollar note. Constance then rolled this up into a tube, raised it to her nose and began to snort up a line of the powder.
Melaine was only barely aware of what her hands were doing. She raised the camera, switched off the flash, focused, and took a shot. The automatic winder made a whirring sound as it quickly moved on to the next negative ready for exposure. While Constance was busy at the dresser the three men began taking off their coats and losing their collars.
After a short while Constance looked up with a waxy smile on her face. It was as if she wasn’t really aware of her surroundings any more. She reached her hand out to grab at the crotch of the brown haired man and began to rub his cock through his trousers.
The black haired man took Constance by the hand and led her to the centre of the room as gently as if he were leading her to the middle of a dance floor. Without any pretence Constance reached a hand up under the strap of her dress to slide it off her shoulder and let it fall to the floor. She had no bra on and her perky yet ample tits were on display, her pink nipples crinkling slightly in the cool bedroom air.
Suddenly there were hands all over Constance’s body. The men grabbed at her tits which were slightly more than a handful and squeezed them gently. A hand slipped down the front of her salmon pink silk panties and strong fingers began to probe the yielding folds of her cunt.
After a while Constance dropped to her knees and undid one of the men’s trousers and fished out his cock. Without a moment’s hesitation she opened her painted lips and swallowed the member. The other two men fished their dicks out and guided Constance’s hands to hold onto them which she began stroking while she slobbered all over the first man’s cock.
There was a clear line of sight for Melanie who took another shot with the camera while Constance had her cheeks billowing out as she forced herself as deep as she could down onto the man’s dick. After a moment Constance gaged slightly and a river of saliva ran down the shaft in her mouth.
After a short while a hand reached down to the back of Constance’s head and guided her towards a second cock which she immediately began to suck. Each man took turns in having their cock sucked and stroked while Constance knelt between the trio.
Eventually, Constance was lifted to her feet and led to the bed. Each of the men had taken the opportunity when they weren’t getting a blow job to get undressed. Now one of them lay down on the bed with his rock hard cock pointing up to the ceiling. Constance was bent over so that she could suck the man’s cock while her arse was pointed up to the man behind her.
The man standing behind Constance hooked his thumbs into her panties and slid them down to the floor. He then placed one hand on her hips and with his other hand swatted it down on her naked arse. He left a red hand print when he lifted his palm and swatted it down again. With each strike Constance gave a little jump, moaning around the cock in her mouth. After a few more spanks the man positioned his stiff cock at the entrance to Constanc’s cunt and slowly slid in.
Melanie took another shot of Constance being impaled from in front and behind. The camera wound on, ready for the next shot to be taken.
After he was comfortable the man behind began pistoning away holding on to Constance’s hips so he could slam home with each thrust. After a short while he was taped on the shoulder by the spare man and stepped aside. The new man took up position and began to thrust into Constance’s now dripping wet cunt while she continued to suck the man in front of her.
The men continued to rotate positions between themselves all the while Melanie continued to watch on wide eyed and taking a few more shots on the camera.
Eventually the men guided Constance to kneel on the floor once again. They circled around her and began stroking their cocks. Within moments one of the men came. He aimed his dick at Constance’s forehead and unloaded ropes of cum across her face. Strings of sticky pearly white liquid splattered across her forehead and eyelashes. No sooner had the first man finished than the second reached down and turned Constance’s head around to face him and he shot his load across her lips and chin. Finally the third man aimed his cock at Constance and shot straight into her eye.
After the first shot into her eye Conance blinked the eye shut and tried to back away but her head was held in place by the man’s hand on the back of her head. The remaining shots from his cock filled her closed eye and dribbled down her cheek.
Melanie took the final shot on the camera and then heard the automatic winder roll the film home. She quickly opened the back of the camera and fished out the roll of film which she then deposited into her hand bag.
The last man having finished across Constance’s face the men began to get dressed. Melanie took a step and went to walk off with her film in hand when she stopped in her tracks and looked one last time between the curtains into the room.
Constance wasn’t moving. She was just kneeling back onto her heels with the sticky white cum dripping from her face onto her body. It was at that moment that Melaine felt a pang of guilt about what she had witnessed. For a moment Melanie waited thinking about what to do next and then she decided on a course of action and set off back down the side of the house.
It was easy to find the bedroom once she was inside. The party was still in full swing with clusters of people chatting, drinks being poured and swimming taking place in the pool in the backyard. Melane headed through the kitchen where there were clumps of people fishing beers out of the fridge and a quick dogleg through the hallway and then into the bedroom. The men had left and Constance was left kneeling in the middle of the floor.
Melanie closed the door quietly behind herself. She waited for a moment waiting for Conatance to notice her, however, she just kept kneeling on the floor staring off into the distance. After a while Melanie grabbed a box of tissues off of the dresser and went to kneel in front of Constance. Melanie quickly grabbed a few tissues and began to wipe Constance off starting with clearing off her clogged up eye.
“Oh dear, how did you get yourself into this state?” Meanile asked.
For a moment Constance focused her eyes and looked at Melanie as if seeing her for the first time.
“Thank you for looking after me.” Constance said, taking a hold of Melanie’s hands in hers.
“It’s okay, let’s just get you cleaned up.” Melane thought of the role of film in her handbag with a pang of guilt.
With handfuls of tissue Melanie wiped Constance face over. When she was finished there was a pile of tissue beside the two women. Melanie then helped Constance up and steadied her while she stepped into her dress. Finally, arm in arm, they walked back to the party.
“How did you get here?” Melanie asked.
“With Milly King. There she is.” Constance was pointing out into the crowd in the backyard.
“Okay, let’s get you home.” Melanie said finding a phone in the hallway and picking it up.
Mealanie had a quick conversation on the phone and then led Constance out to the front yard. On their way they came across one of the men who had been in the bedroom. He smiled like a jackal over a fresh carcass. Melanie gave her best death glare and kept leading Constance by the elbow out to the front of the house.
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After a short wait a yellow cab pulled up in front of the house. Melanied took a handful of notes out of her handbag and handed them to the driver. With some prompting she got Contance’s address out of her and the cab driver tipped his hat in acknowledgement before pulling away.
Melanie then turned on her heel and headed back into the party, found her husband and took up his arm for the rest of the night. As she smiled and nodded her way through the conversations going on around her she was always conscious of the roll of film weighing down her handbag.
It had been pure serendipity that had allowed Melanie to take those compromising pictures of Constance. The question was what was she going to do with them. She wasn’t even certain she wanted to use the photos however, as the night wore on and people were talking around her a plan formed.