The party was crowded. Dozens of people in the big house, most with a drink in their hands, mingled about, chattering and smiling, all in good spirits. They were dressed to the nines, the men in natty suits, the women in perfectly fitted cocktail dresses.
Samantha, a mature redheaded woman in her late forties, put down her empty glass of Chardonnay and angled toward the bar. She was wearing a low-cut black cocktail dress that displayed a generous amount of bosom. The thin material was poked prominently by large nipples. The dress hugged her wide hips and fell smoothly down her sleek legs and she wore classic black high-heeled pumps. Her hair was done in a lustrous red waves that framed a wide face with striking features. Her lips were painted a muted scarlet. She had emerald green eyes.
She moved along towards the open bar, and was about to ask the bartender for another glass of wine when she was interrupted by a another woman, an equally tall black-haired beauty wearing a cream colored halter-top dress. Her hair was done up in elaborate spiral streams going halfway down her back. She inched her way in front of her and Samantha felt her body meet hers, her breasts compressing against the naked shoulders of the brunette. The woman didn’t move out of the way, but stood right in front, between her and the busy bartender.
The dark-haired woman said, “Cosmo, please.” She turned around and said, “Ohhh….I’m so sorry…did I get in front of you?”
Samantha gritted, “That’s all right. I’m should have expected it.” She held her eyes steadily on the interloper.
The other woman looked at her quizzically.
“Because it’s such a crowded party.” She smiled slightly. The two women were separated by mere inches. Samantha could she that she was busty as she was. Someone behind Samantha passed by closely and she took a step forward, and felt her breasts meeting the other woman’s globes.
“Ma’am, here’s your cosmo.”
The dark-haired woman said, “Excuse me.” She maintained the breast contact almost to the point where Samantha felt that she would have to say something, then turned, their breasts sliding together under the the thin material. Samantha felt her nipples get hard as they met in fleeting soft pressure. Her eyes widened.
She took the proffered cocktail from the bartender, glanced at Samantha with a smile, then leaned forward and said quietly and quickly, “I’m Lacey. You and I will … talk later.” As she moved away, her hand came down and her fingers slid along Samantha’s hand and lightly scratched the inside of her wrist. Was it a caress? Or something with more aggressive intent?
Samantha gathered her thoughts, quickly asked for a Chardonnay. The young bartender poured it and handed it too her with a knowing grin.
Samantha thought the young college boy was impudent. She said, “Yes?”
He looked at Lacey as she walked away, at the sexy sway in her hips as she moved. “You met Lacey,” he said.
“So?”
“You haven’t seen the last of her. Excuse me.” A queue of drink seeker was behind Samantha. She moved away, befuddled.
She turned to see Lacey disappearing into another room.
Intensely curious, she followed.
To be continued....
