In the pyjama party aftermath....

Well, that's my diet smashed to hell and back.  Boy, does that feel good.  I can't remember the last time I was this full.  Or this drunk.  Oh, I've managed to whittle down a few dress sizes in the last couple of months since I started coming to the pub more regularly, but I'm still a cow compared to the other girls.  Which is, I suppose, why I might have drunk a wee bit more than usual at the party.  Nerves and all.  It sucks being the fat one.  Even when everyone is so bloody nice.  Maybe especially then.  There's nothing like being a fat spinster in virgin lingerie surrounded by skinny women with boyfriends to really make a girl feel good about herself.

Somehow, I can't even be surprised at the irony.  Only one man has ever seen the lingerie I'm wearing.  And he's a flaming poofter!  Isn't that just my luck?  Of course, I can't really complain.  I don't mean to sound as if I'm whining.  I'm not.  I had loads of fun at the party.  Never imagined I would- but there it is.  I'd missed that.  Girlfriends.  Boyfriends.  Hey, Jeff counts.  He is a man, after all.  And quite an impressive man, I'd say... if those wonderfully indecent footy shorts he squeezed his poorly arranged package into were any indication.

Made my mouth water.

But more than that, he was just such a laugh.  A nice bloke and a really good mate.  Reminded me how very much I miss men.  The way they look and smell.  The insane crap they say.  The things they do that don't make a slip of sense to the female mind.  The way they think nothing of casually arranging their good bits in the middle of a chat..... 

Sweet Lord.  And watching him give that toy a head job was the most erotic thing I've been a party to in ages.  I nearly had an orgasm seeing the bulge swell his thick throat above his Adam's apple.  Don't reckon I was the only one.  There's just something about watching a man with a cock in his mouth that just really turns up the heat.  I guess it's a bit like how men feel watching two women get it on.  Of course, it's been so long since I got it on with anyone I may well have forgotten.

Faulty memory aside, I'd been having fun down at the pub for weeks.  Still not much given to chatting anyone up.  More I just liked hanging round, hearing the way they talked to each other.  Men talking to men.  Men talking to women.  (I guess I really am a voyeur at heart.  No shock there.)  And of course, I was a party to some of the girl talk as well.  I got to know The Quiet One and The Skinny One, otherwise known as Heather and Uma. 

Felt pretty guilty after I figured out how nice they were... on account of how often I'd taken my post as the neighbourhood peeping Thomasina.  The first thing I did was rearrange my bedroom so my bed no longer shared the same wall as the Shadow's bed.  Dino.  Yeah, well... I know all their names now.  But I still prefer my nicknames. 

The Stoic reminds me a bit of my favourite uncle.  Quiet.  Imposing.  Usually up for a bit of mischief making, though he's hardly ever one for getting caught at it.  Getting to know the Shadow was fun.  He's sweet on me.  Leaves me little presents on my doorstep after he knows he's kept me up half the night shagging the Quiet One.  Lately I've just taken to pounding on the wall when they get too enthusiastic and shouting at him to leave off.  Last time I yelled: "Mate?  Put your hands up and step away from the fanny!"  He laughed so hard I heard them both thump on the floor as they rolled out of bed.  Ah, well.... at least the floor doesn't squeak like the bedsprings do.

The Fuehrer still scares me to death, though that's probably more to do with me than him.  My favourite cousin- the poof- he got beat up really bad once by someone like that.  Well, by a couple someones actually.  They cracked his head a good one.  Knocked loose a couple of teeth and he gets these headaches now.  Migraines.  All because some blokes didn't care for where he dips his wick.  Arseholes. 

I'm still not sold on Mr. Handy, either.  The Shadow seems to like him well enough... and even though he's quasi attempted a bit of polite conversation with me...... frankly, the bloom is off that particular rose.  Maybe he's just always that techy?  No use pretending to be Prince Charming after I've been so intimately acquainted with the frog, hey?

And of course, there's my Neo.  The One.  He's still The One more than ever now that I've gotten to know a bit more about him.  I've hardly spoken to him at all.  Too shy... but I've noticed he doesn't seem to have anyone steady tucking him in at night... so there's still hope.  And now I have some juicy details dished by the others to really spice up my little fantasies of him.  I will definitely put them (and a few of those toys Uma was handing out tonight) to good use later when I'm alone. 

Things may well be looking up for me after all.  At least a few men have now seen my lingerie at least.  After Jeff, a few of his mates came up for various reasons.  I even got a compliment from one of them.  I think I nearly swooned.  Ah, to hell with it.  I did swoon.  I might have even whimpered.  It's been a bloody long time since I've had a sincere compliment from a man.  And what a man he is.  I think I felt his soft words all the way to my toes. 

It certainly put me in high spirits.  Got me in the mood to enjoy the rest of the night.  We had some cake and told ghost stories, huddled in the dark under cozy blankets.  When it came to my turn, I had a good one to tell.  I'm really a bit familiar with ghosts.  I reckon that's why this place and its odd noises and strange happenings don't frighten me much.  My Mum's Scottish.  I cut my teeth on stories of the haunted moor where she grew up.  Even experienced them for myself when she took us back home on holiday.  Odd sounds.  Voices.  Things moved round.  I know it sounds like I'm a nutter, but it's kind of homey for me.  Reminds me of my Mum.   

So, there I was telling this fantastically frightening story... about to scare the pants off everyone with one of the flashlights I'd grabbed and hidden away for the right moment... but when the time came and I flicked the switch... the buzzing of a vibrator filled the air.  Worse, it had flashing lights that winked on and off in the dark.  Jeff nearly wet himself.  He howled and fell over, rolling about.  The rest of them hooted and giggled.  Me too, to tell the truth.  I was bombed out of my mind by that point and everything just seemed funny.

Not long after, we started up a game of truth and dare, which eventually wound up with us all putting our names in a hat.  We had a lottery for sleeping arrangements as there were nearly twenty of us and not even half that in rooms to go round.  I wound up with Jeff and it was a testament of exactly how bombed I was that I wasn't the least bit uneasy about it.  Actually, to save on space cos some of them were doubled up to four in a room, I asked him if he wanted to come back to my place to crash.  Not really sure why we were so easy together, but we were.  I had the feeling it was something more than just the alcohol- but you never know and I hardly trust my judgment with men, poor as my track record is.

He just grinned and said, "Ripper!"  We took ourselves off- fell in the door of my place, laughing and hanging on each other.  It's a bloody wonder we managed to get there in the first place as unsteady as we both were.  I asked him if he wanted a drink.  He asked me if I wanted a smoke.  Tossed over a joint with an easy shrug and a: "S'my day, luv..... happy flamin' birthday to me....."

I giggled.  Scrounged up my lighter.  (I'm trying to cut down on the smoking- and had hidden it and my last packet of fags under a cushion.)  I dragged it out, lit up and had a bit before passing it over.

He inhaled deeply and then laughed.  "Christ, you're an odd one, aren't you, luv?"  That cracked us both up.  We drank more.  Smoked more too.  Wound up on my bed in a tangle of body parts that we eventually sorted.  He scooted up to rest against the bedhead.  I faced him, reclined on some pillows near the foot.  We were both red-faced from laughing; the bawdy conversation of the party had only gotten more crude with the addition of the herbs and the privacy. 

And the way he was sprawled too- legs akimbo... Well, the leg of his shorts had fallen open and his balls were hanging out, full and furred and heavy.  It looked like a butcher's window.  God, I love a thick juicy piece of meat.  Too crude for you?  Too fucking bad.  Just the sight of it made me creamy.  So did the conversation.  It was kind of charming too, in a way.  He was a bit reluctant to discuss his gay life with a woman, but he spoke of it in general terms.  And men are always more crude than women about the details of casual sex.  At least in how they phrase certain things. 

Who would have guessed it?  That it would be the pair of us who wound up higher than two kites, confiding in each other-maybe not our deepest, darkest secrets or anything, but the conversation was more pointedly intimate than it had been at the party.  More revealing too.

"You really like getting it up against a wall, Jeff?"

He giggled.  "Bloody right I do.... but not nearly so much as I like giving it up against a wall."  Necking his stubbie, he gave me a look.  "You really like oral as much as you said?"

My face flamed.  I'd forgotten I said that.  It's true though.  I love men's cocks.  And I love just loving a man that way.  It's about way more than just the cock, though.  Kind of hard to explain.  I guess I just like the intimacy of it.  He was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.  I lifted my drink to my lips, forgetting it was empty, and grinned.  "Yeah.  More even.  Makes me come sometimes just from the sucking."

He flushed a bit and nodded, eyes bright and a little glassy.  "Me too."  The conversation got racier from there.  Deeper and more intimate.

Everything sort of hit me hard at that moment.  The sex talk.  The smoke.  The booze.  The fact I had a real live man in my bed.  "Jeff, would you like to have sex with me?"  I couldn't believe I'd asked it.  We both giggled.  Fuckin' pot.  It wasn't that I was desperate for a man.  Well, I was- but that wasn't the reason I asked him.  I liked Jeff... but not that way, exactly.  Not romantically.  Maybe I was just more comfortable with guys like that.  Or maybe it was that I was just used to affection not love. 

He pushed his shorts down revealing an impressive cock.  It was thick.  And soft.  "Well, I would.... but I'm not sure if I can...I think it's in a coma."  He was just so easy about it.  Not embarrassed.  Not even shy to stroke it in front of me.  The motion was smooth.  Familiar.  He wasn't embarrassed about that either.  Or the fact that despite his fondling, his cock remained soft and floppy.  He kicked his shorts the rest of the way off and threw himself back with a grin.  "But you're welcome to give it a go."

Seeing his hand stroking it was as exciting as seeing the thing itself.  It was just so nice and plump and pretty.  You know with my oral fixation, I couldn't resist having a taste.  He tickled the back of my throat and he wasn't even hard.  It was just really nice.  I love men's bodies.  How they feel and taste and smell.  I'd missed that so much.  Just the smell of a man.  Feeling his heartbeat on my tongue.  Mostly just feeling his big body next to me in bed, arms round me, curled up tight....

What we were doing wasn't even really sexual.  Reminded me more of my first forays into sex where a taste or a lick or a look was enough to send us into fits of itchy giggles.  There was something really erotic about sucking on a soft cock, though.  I've always liked that, rolling the squidgy length over my tongue and giving the elastic flesh those deep nursing pulls.  Pushing my nose into the wiry thicket where all a man's best smells hide. 

He groaned.  It wasn't a sex groan.  More like the sound you make after a good meal.  Or a wee when you really have to go.  The thought suddenly made me laugh and giggles escaped around my lips, vibrating his cock as I pulled off.  He rubbed his good bits.  "That tickles!"  And then he looked down at himself and grinned wryly.  "Sorry.... he's down for the count, I reckon." 

I really wasn't too bothered by it.  Nor was he particularly.  I just tossed myself back and rubbed a hand between my legs, massaging at the wet ache there.  Guess my libido doesn't give a tuppenny damn that Jeff rides the other bus.  He watched with a mild sort of interest, still absently playing with his own genitals while we talked.  Sort of a throwback to the mutual masturbation most of us have done as kids at some point.  It was really sort of innocent and sweet. 

I said as much.  He laughed back.  "Come on now, Esme.... give me the real dirt... I won't tell..... you ever got it on with a mate?  A girlfriend?"

I shook my head.  "No."  His lazy expression became a bit more interested when I kept talking.  "Not with one of my mates, exactly.... she was someone I picked up when I was out." 

Jeff sat up a bit.  "Yeah?"

I nodded.  "I have this cousin... he's a poof-"

"He cute?"

"Oh yeah.  Dark.  Burly.  Works up on the docks at Govan." 

"Mmmm..... Now that's what I call a bit of rough!"  He pulled crudely at his soft cock.  "Well, if that didn't do it, nothing will," he teased.  I thumped him.

"Anyway, we went out one night.  Pub crawl.  Him and me and his lover, Sean.  Big Irish bloke.  You'd fancy him as well.  I bloody do."  Jeff chuckled.  "We stopped at Screaming Sadie's."

"Hey, I've been there."  His gorgeous lips pursed.  "Nice place.  The boys are pretty there.  Girls too."

I nodded.  "Oh yeah.  Anyway, whilst I was perving the boys, a girl came over and chatted me up.  Wanted to take me home.  I was drunk enough.  Figured for as disappointing as my relationships with men had been, might as well give the other bus a go."  I shrugged, rubbing my breasts slightly at the memory of that night.  "What did I have to lose?"

"How was it?"

He was watching me with more interest now.  And soft caring eyes, too.  Reckon he knew what that feeling was like.  "Nice.  Soft.  The pleasure was good but it didn't really move me, you know?  Not like a man."  I blew out softly.  "Good lesson though.  Guess I just need someone with a real flesh-and-blood dick."

"Me too."  He grinned at me and then down at his cock.  It was hard and he was stroking the sensitive tip with a thick finger.  "Ahh, what's this?  I think we have lift off...."  He rubbed it leisurely, like how I pet my cats.  I laughed.  He stroked it, more for his pleasure than to show off for me, I think.  "I'm all yours now, luv.  Take me.  I can't move.  Too rooted."

"Me too."  I was just as bad.  We were definitely past the point of two-pot screamers.  Think more along the lines of two-pot snorers.  He snickered.  I did too.  And we sort of just crawled over to each other and curled up.

"Take this off, hey?"  He pulled at my gown.  "I'm a poofter but I still like skin, you know?  Feels nice to sleep next to.... soft..." he grunted into the pillow.  I tugged it off and shimmied down next to him.  He sighed in contentment and buried his face in my hair.  "I like girls too... I just like boys better."  He giggled sleepily.  "Girl's hair smells nicer though.... even if it does tickle....." 

"Goodnight, Jeff, ya bum.  Happy birthday," I murmured back as we fell asleep.

Morning did not come early.  We were totally shagged out.  I did, however, wake to find the most gorgeous hunk of man asleep in my bed on his back, covers pushed off, sporting some amazingly impressive morning wood.  What sane girl could resist that temptation?  And after last night, I was relaxed enough with him to just let things happen naturally.  Well, as natural as things can be between a spinster and a shirt-lifter, anyway.

I scooted round, curled up next to him, opened my mouth and sucked him down.  Wanted to see if I could do it the way he'd showed us last night.  A few bobs and I had the hang of it.  Great.  Add that to my short list of talents, hey?  Put it on my next résumé.  Gives fantastic head.  Jeff fucked my mouth for a bit before he came awake with a low grunt.  His hand let go of my hair but his hips didn't stop moving.

"G'day to you too, luv...."  I giggled round his cock and then swirled my tongue round as he had demonstrated.  He groaned.  "Ooo.... Yeah... S'nice....."  He dropped his hand to my side.   His palm felt warm and heavy.  Comforting.  Just nice.  The whole thing felt nice.  Easy.  Just a bit of mutual fun.  I tickled my fingers over his sac and massaged it, stroking lower... his legs widened and I smiled, rubbing a finger over the sensitive ring of his anus.  The taste of him bloomed over my tongue as he started dripping.  "Mmmm....."  I pulled back a bit, just more wanting to play than get him off.

He sighed pleasantly as I changed the rhythm and intensity, lips, tongue.  Bit of teeth.  Just a gentle nibble.  He swatted at my generous backside for that playfully and then I felt him rub over my hip.  Felt his fingers between my legs.  Just a touch at first.  Fingertips.  In my hair.  Over the bump of my clit.  Back to that when I shivered.  He could see I was responding to him.  But then again, he flaming was as well.  He pushed a finger in.  Laughed.

I looked back at him.  He was rubbing my wetness between his thumb and forefinger as he urged me up so my crotch was over his mouth.  He laughed between my legs.  It was warm and tickly.  I could feel his breath.  "Wish men could do that, luv.... save a bloody fortune on lube." 

And then he delved in for a taste.  I felt his tongue.  Broad.  Wide.  Licking a wet path up and then down again.  Talking to me between licks.  Almost felt like he was whispering his secrets to my cunt.  Confessing.  How he didn't really feel the drive to penetrate a woman.  It didn't excite him.  He wasn't wired that way.  But that there was something about the way a woman smelled... down there... her cunt... that just tickled at some foggy place in his brain.  Made him want to come. 

With a shudder, I came on his mouth and a few moments later, he came in mine, pumping his hips up in this way that rubbed his crown against the ring of muscles at the back of my throat.  I didn't pull back because it threatened to trigger my gag reflex.  I pulled back to feel him spurt his thick cream over my tongue.  In my head I imagined another man and smiled inwardly as I wondered if Jeff was doing the same.

He groaned.  I squirmed.  Too sensitive- both of us.  His stubbly chin and my tongue were too much for each other.  We broke apart with two similar 'oofs' followed by panting sighs.  He writhed.  "Don't squish my bladder...."  He shoved me off and playfully tossed me back down on the bed with that easy strength young men have.  "I have to piss...."

I scrambled to get to the loo first.  "Me too!  Out of the way.  Ain't your birthday today... so back of the line with you."  I sat down.  The lid rocked on the tank.  He gave me the eye and held his cock over the sink.  "Don't you dare!"

"Hey!  You started it.  I was just sleeping there, innocent as a babe!"  The 'innocent babe' was now aiming his dick at my gorgeous porcelain sink. 

I snorted.  "I'm warning you, pal!"

"Alright then.  Have it your way."  He stepped over and aimed at the open spot between my legs.  "Careful operation this.... I can barely manage to keep in all in the bowl on a good day...."

I screeched and jumped up.  We played like little kids.  Me dancing round, aiming for him while he had a wee and then I had my turn.  "See, that's what's wrong with girls," he was saying, "Nothing for a bloke to hold and aim with...."  I smacked him.  We sort of both fell into the shower, laughing and flicking water at each other. 

The whole feel of the morning just crashed in on me at once and I sobered.  To my horror, I actually felt tears gather.  He stopped soaping his pit and gave me a look.  "What's all this, now?"

I waved him away.  "Nothing."  

He smiled.  "Come on, pretend I'm your best girlfriend..."

I felt pretty stupid but I told him anyway.  "Sometimes I just miss it, Jeff.  So much it hurts."

"The sex?"  He teased, trying to lighten the mood.

It coaxed a smile from me.  "How we were just then.  Someone to wake up next to.  Someone to just have a laugh with.  Play with.  Just be with, you know?"  I sniffed.  He wrapped his arms round me and held me tight.  God.  Being held.  "I miss that too," I said somehow managing to keep the quaver in my voice to a wee tremour.  He stroked my wet hair and pet me in this friendly, affectionate way that I really needed just then and whispered into my ear, "God's gift, hey?"

Love. 

"It certainly is, Jeffery Mitchell."  I hugged him back tightly, just for a moment and then smiled as my sad mood passed.  "Now which of us gets to drop the soap?" 

I brewed up and we shared a cuppa over breakfast in the kitchen before he left.  It was cozy.  Course that may well have been the post orgasm glow... but I think partly it was just having a man around again.  Even if he was just a friend.  I didn't have to shag him to enjoy his company and see him sprawled out at my kitchen table. 

A sudden though occurred to me.  "Will Paul mind?"

"About what?"  He stirred more honey into his tea.  "Me crashing with a mate?"

"Yeah."  Among other things.    

"No, course not.  Besides, it's not cheating if it's with a girl."  He teased, eyes twinkled.  "Anyway, if he does find out--and he will... he does this thing to me with his tongue and I just can't keep my bloody mouth shut-- he'll just want all the details.  He's a dirty bugger!"

I laughed at the way he said that so proudly and rolled my eyes at him.  "Let's not wait for your next birthday to do this again."

He looked up, a bit of something wary in his eyes.  He liked me as a friend but didn't want to hurt me.  I laughed and tossed the tea towel at him.  "Not that."  I pretended to pout.  "Well, I wouldn't turn down a bit of Mitchell..." 

"A bit?" he scoffed, grabbing himself.  "I'm packing more than 'a bit' here."  

I swatted his arm.  "Be serious!"  We both laughed.  "I just like you- as a mate.  I like men.  Just having them round.  I wouldn't mind you hanging about...." 

He grinned at the spread.  Eggs.  Sausage.  Fried potatoes with onions.  Toast.  Jam.  Good strong tea to wash it all down.  "Turn down spending time with a mate who cooks a breakfast like this?  You mental?"

Throwing on an old sweatshirt I had (no comments from the peanut gallery that it fit him) he got up to head back over to collect his stuff from the pub before he headed home.  He stopped in the doorway.  "Shit!"

"What?"

He threw back his head and laughed.  "I was hoping for something to bring home to Paul."

"Glass dildo not enough for you? Sheesh," I teased.

He smacked my bum.  "No, cheeky, he said before I left that I wouldn't get so much as a sniff from the girls.  I bet him twenty quid that I'd have a love bite this morning."  He danced about, excited as young men get when they're about to get one over on someone.  "You got any lippie...?"

And so, that's how I spent the night with Jeff.  No sex.  Couple of orgasms.  Couple of cups of tea.  And one outrageous love bite complete with 'Cherry Wine' lipstick for him to take home to Paul. 

Happy birthday?

You bet.

And to top it off, I made a new friend.

Reckon that counts as one to grow on?