Say Hell Yes To The Dress
by MadeleineSinha

Wendy and Diane, the University years.

Winter comes early in Yorkshire; it comes early and stays late. Cold air comes blasting down from the Arctic, over the North Sea picking up moisture and hits the eastern foothills of the Pennines where it dumps the moisture as rain and sleet. This November most of it seemed to end up landing on Lupton Terrace, where it would have made the lives of lesser women miserable. Fortunately, Di and I were serious party animals, and early twenty first century Leeds was well stocked with bars, clubs, and music venues so we soon discovered the truth of the phrase "There's no such thing as bad weather just inappropriate clothes."

Being two young women with a shared interest in, well lots of thing really. Dancing, young men, drinking and partying amongst them but the ones I was aiming for were textiles and clothes, that being what we were studying for our degrees, meant we spent a lot of our free time and money in the boutiques of Leeds Markets and the smaller shops in the back streets.

We were of similar sizes, both a UK 10 but her boobs were a bit bigger than mine. Still are, and while she had almost jet-black hair and mine was blonde we could comfortably share clothes; trousers were ok depending on footwear and tops and dresses were just a bit tighter or looser with a different accessory depending on which of us was wearing it.

One such expedition took us to a charity shop not far from Elland Road, one that specialised in high end gear, these days it would be called something like 'Vintage Village' back then it was just a second-hand clothes shop. We'd found a few favourite clubbing outfits in there but this one was an absolute winner.

It was a bit more fetish-wear than we'd normally go for, but it was stunning, seemingly comprising almost entirely of soft leather straps, buckles and lace. I spotted it first and dived into the changing room, squeezing myself in and adjusting the straps to ensure maximum exposure and minimal cover.

Looking in the mirror I was going to need smaller pants, possibly a thong. I peeled my sensible briefs off and checked my reflection again. Oh my, it would need some time with a razor and some wax as well. I was fairly well trimmed normally but this was going to need almost an entire deforestation of the party area. I loved the way it highlighted the underside of my boobs, lifting them to make it look like they were sitting up as if in a supporting bra but on proud display.

I replaced my knickers and stepped out.

"Hey Di, what d'you think?"

A clunk came from across the shop as Di dropped the shoes she was looking at, or it may have been her jaw hitting the floor.

"Geez Wend, I mean, er, fuck. Wow."

She struggled for coherency, finally settling on "You'll need different pants."

I laughed and twirled.

"Isn't it great? I love it. Sooooo Sexy. It'll look great at Steel Express. They won't know what's hit them!" Steel Express was our club of choice, lots of chrome, mirrors, and inevitably, stainless steel. It specialised in an eclectic mix of music, one moment you'd be dancing to 'Lonely Girl' by NutLoaf, next it could be a seventies cheese fest, then a techno-electro set. The drinks were cheap and girls got in for free before 10pm so it was popular with students.

Diane looked me up and down, giving a whistle of appreciation. "I mean, I've seen you wearing less in public but it was when we got pissed and streaked across the cricket pitch in freshers week." Then after a pause she grinned manically. "Can I try it?"

We bundled into the changing room together, both stripping off, me to get my jeans and top back on, Diane to get into the leathery strappy nothingness.

The cow looked even better in it than I did, what with her having bigger tits than me. She filled it to perfection, the side swell and under sides of her boobs were in great definition, loading the front invitingly. Whichever one of us was wearing it we were going to get attention.

Two days later we were in a sweaty, heaving mass of bodies dancing under the strobe lights and fake smoke of Steel Express, we'd pre-loaded with a bottle of cheap prosecco before we went out. I'd needed it to give myself the courage to wear the straps in public, but having got myself in a place where my hesitance was overcome by my enthusiasm I was having a great time.

As I'd guessed in the shop I was getting a lot of attention, from both sexes. The girls reaction ranged from giving me the dead eye stare with a big thought bubble over their heads saying "Tart" (or worse) to incredulity and envy. The guys just stared, initially slack jawed and immobile, then with increasingly desperate lines.

For the elimination of all doubt, I do not intend to remember your name as the chances of me screaming it later are beyond microscopic. Flicking water on me just pisses me off, it does not encourage me to get out of my wet clothes and I am not like your toe, you cannot imagine banging me on your kitchen table.

Diane and I were dancing together, well next to each other. She was in a tiny lycra microskirt and a glittery boob tube, just barely keeping her boobs under control, getting almost as much attention as I was. After a particularly intense track she looked up with a puff and shouted in my ear "It's half ten. Going for a drink, coming?"

I nodded and followed her off the floor, her current man, Derek, was due to meet us at the bar by a statue of the robot from 'Metropolis', one of many steel figures around the club. With him was a tall dark-haired guy of around twenty-two in jeans, a Velvet Underground T Shirt and a leather jacket, a fashion one, not a heavy biker one, that I didn't recognise. He did the slack jawed staring thing as Diane and I were introduced.

In his defence he came out with a more enticing opener, "Wow. Er, drink anyone?"

I was about to say "Yes thanks Vodka Cranberry please" when Derek announced it was OK, he'd get them and pointed at everyone. "Pint? VC & a VC?" we all nodded agreement; Diane followed him to the bar to help carry the drinks back.

The new guy managed to stop dribbling long enough to introduce himself, "Gary, Gaz. I know Dezzer from football" he announced in a pronounced scouse accent.

"Wendy, I'm Diane's flatmate."

We carried on with inane first meeting chat, he played in goal on Tuesday and Thursday evenings for a five a side team and on Sunday mornings for a pub side in Loxley. He was on an engineering course of some type, don't ask me what, but was 'really, really, interested' in getting into conservation or working with refugees. I nodded along in agreement, giving him the benefit of the doubt that he meant it and it wasn't just a line to make him look deep and thoughtful and so provide easier access to the contents of my small and glittery thong.

Diane and Dezzer as he was destined to be known for the rest of the evening returned with armfuls of booze. Mine got consumed in short order.

Gaz leaned in "Thirsty? That didn't touch the sides" he nodded to the bar. "Fancy another?"

I shook my head, "No, I just always finish my drinks quickly. If it's empty no one can slip anything in it."

He looked shocked at the realities of being a girl in a nightclub sank in. "What, you mean..."

"Yeah, some fucker slips a roofie or some ketamine in your drink next thing you know you're waking up in the back of a transit with a dozen fat blokes doing up their zips outside."

He had a look of horror on his face. The alcohol and my newfound enthusiasm kicked in, I slapped his arm, "C'mon I'm dancing. If you're lucky my tits might pop out."

The look of horror changed to one of stunned surprise as I gave him what I hoped was a seductive look and was about to head off to the dance floor when Diane leaned close to me and asked quietly if we could swap outfits as she wanted to give Derek a treat.

We'd done it before; we'll scoot into the ladies and grab adjacent stalls then pass clothes through the gap under the side walls. And she did look a bit better in the dress than I did. Cow.

I wriggled out of the straps and passed it under the wall, standing there in just my thong and heels as I waited. Eventually a small scrap of green lycra appeared in a hand, I grabbed it and squeezed into the miniskirt and waited for the boob tube. And waited and waited.

And waited.

It sounded like Diane's door opened, but that would mean...

No.

"Di, you fucking slapper, where's the top?"

A giggling voice came back through the door,

"Oh, sorry. Look, I'll give it to Gaz, he'll be happy to help you out."

"Di, I'm not fucking joking, I'm not staying in here all night. Di? Di? Have you gone. I will so get you for this. I will get you back you, you...ggnnaaahhh

If I'm honest it was being pranked so comprehensively that was annoying, we'd been getting each other into and out of trouble for over ten years. This was a good one and would need some planning to achieve my revenge, but my first problem was getting my, well Di's, top back. Steel Express was a fairly relaxed and wild club but even they would probably get a bit antsy if I spent the evening topless. Although the thought ran through my mind for a moment or two, giving me a familiar warm feeling between my legs.

I gave a theatrical shake of my head and decided to make the best of my stitched-up position. There were a couple of girls reapplying eyeliner and lippy in the mirror as I stepped out of the stall, I got a double take as I strode out with one arm across my boobs but I was gone before anyone made an issue about it.

Pushing through the crowd was an interesting experience, interesting in the "got more unwanted attention than was really welcome" meaning of the term.

I was leaving a trail of dribbling catatonic blokes and catty comments from girls as I made my way back to our group. Diane was nowhere to be seen, Gary and Derek gave a collective gasp and found the words to say; "Fuck me, I mean....." and "I didn't believe her, you've actually gone and done it. You're mad you are."

Angrily I responded with, "What do you mean? Done what?"

Gary shut up and looked at the floor, Derek stumbled a bit, "Er, Di said you'd gone topless for a laugh and we had err a .... "

I gave them a stare. I would have smacked their heads about but my hands were otherwise occupied, stopping me getting kicked out for public indecency. Then I thought 'Bollocks to it' and gave them both a cuff round the side of their heads, and a flash of boob heaven. In the interests of absolute honesty, I quite enjoyed the looks of delight on their faces.

I covered up again, then pointed with an elbow at Gaz, "Can I borrow your jacket for a bit?"

He did the mental gymnastics and worked out me putting the jacket on meant my tits coming out to say hello again and agreed enthusiastically. He got his reward as I slid into it, zipping it halfway. I was a bit lost in there, but it was probably better than flashing the entire club.

I found Diane on the dance floor who, under dire threats of revenge laughed and handed me the spangly boob tube. I went back to Gaz and let him hold the jacket up behind me to create my own little changing room as I shimmied into the top, then I grabbed his arm and told him to follow me onto the dance floor, adding "If you're lucky my boobs might pop out again."

They didn't of course, much to his (and probably my) disappointment.

The sands of time did their slippy thing through the hourglass of night fever and while the club was still open at two a.m. I was starting to flag slightly and didn't really see the point in hanging round for an extra hour, DI agreed as did the guys, being putty in our goddess-like fingers.

Outside it was cold. Proper cold. Yorkshire in early November cold. Cold with a side order of horizontal sleet. Fortunately, I had my big pink coat of warmth and delight to wrap myself in, Di had a duffle coat she'd been wearing for seven or more years, inelegant but warm. Gaz had his leather jacket and Derek was rocking a seventies denim look, neither of which were particularly good insulators.

Luckily for the boys it was only around a twenty-minute walk back to our flat, although as we'd only met Gaz for the first time five or so hours earlier I gave him ten out of ten for presumption in tagging along. I suppose the boob related exposure probably gave an implied invitation or something.

We arrived to an icebox. That no heating, sleety bad weather, three in the morning vibe was really kicking in. Derek came over all management trainee and started issuing tasks.

"Gaz, out the back. Kindling, coal, and newspaper. Di, kettle. Wend, er.."

"Wendy's going to get her PJs on" I informed him as I shut my bedroom door. My breath wasn't quite misting before my eyes but it was bloody cold in there. I stripped off the lycra and spangles, throwing them into the corner ready for returning to Di, and delved in the draw for a presentable set of pyjamas. Normally if it was just me and DI in the flat I wore a tatty T shirt in summer and thick flannelette pyjamas for the other eleven months of the Sheffield year. With company I wanted something that didn't make me look like an old granny.

At the bottom I found my satin (well, satin look) two piece set that I'd made in our first year. It clung to my boobs in a fairly graphic manner but was a lot less revealing than my time in the club had been. I wrapped myself back up, this time in my pink fluffy dressing gown. There's a bit of a pink theme in my wardrobe.

Back in the living room Dezzer (no, I don't like it either but I was making it work) was on his knees blowing into the grate where a small red glow was doing its best to build up some warmth. I turned round and returned to my bedroom coming back a moment later.

"Hey, Dezzer. Have a go with this." I handed over my hair dryer, which he plugged in and aimed at the fireplace. Moments later the red glow had turned into flames as the kindling burst to life and five minutes after that the coal was glowing with a comforting heat.

By the time Diane, who'd also changed into a pair of shiny button-up pyjamas, came in with a tray of steaming tea it was almost tropical in the living room.

Dize and Dez as only I was calling them curled up on the two-seat sofa, snuggling up and basking in the warmth from the fire. I settled into the big armchair, leaving Gaz on a footstool.

It may have been the booze or the exhibitionism or just the late hour but I took pity and invited him into my armchair, which was almost big enough for two. I had my legs over his as I sat sideways across his lap. The warmth, low light, alcohol, and my arousal worked it's combined magic and I pushed my lips onto his.

A noise behind me made me turn my head, Di was a lot further along with things than I was. Her top was completely undone and Derek had a hand on one boob and his lips on the other.

"Fuck sake Di, can't you take it to your room?"

She threw her head back theatrically, "No. It's bloody freezing in there. If you don't want to watch look the other way." With that she grabbed the back of Derek's head and pushed him against her chest.

In the intermission of my discussion with Di someone had moved on a bit and I found a couple of hands holding and gently massaging my own boobs. It felt very nice so I made a token complaint before I allowed him to maintain the motion and locked my lips back onto his. As I did so I could feel a hard lump starting to dig into my thigh, I sent my own hands down to check it out and they duly reported back, "Cock, growing quite nicely. Reasonable length, decent girth. Feels quite hot. Over."

I let my hands carry on investigating their new toy and slipped into a feeling of delight as his hands did nice things to my nipples. I got the hands to break off for a moment when efforts were being made to lift my top off, I wasn't entirely comfortable with going any further on first meeting and Di and Derek's activities across the room were making me a little uncomfortable if truth be known.

My concerns were rendered pointless a moment or two later as Gaz gave a shudder and a moaning grunt, loudly enough that Diane interrupted her activities with Derek, lifting her head from his lap to call over "Keep it off the furniture will you, jizz is a nightmare to clean up."

"A friend told me," She added with a giggle.

Gary looked embarrassed at having shot in his pants, but I dug a hand into the pocket on my pink fluffy dressing gown where I found a handful of tissues that I held in one hand as I unzipped Gary's jeans and drove the tissues in to make a rudimentary effort at cleaning him up.

I carried on rubbing as he shook a couple more times then, with a gentle kiss on his mouth I pushed his now shrinking marshmallow back into his boxers then carefully rolled the tissue into a ball and threw it into the fire where it gave a small hiss and burned with a bright yellow flame, spitting twice.

I settled back into Gary's lap and allowed his hand under my top as we whispered to each other,

"Sorry, I er, didn't think that would happen so quick."

"S'ok, it's kind of a compliment,"

"So, you doin' anything tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I need to get some prep work in for Monday."

"How about in the week?"

"Maybe."

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

"You're keen"

"I want to make things up to you, cos y'know erm.."

I climbed out of the chair, pulling him towards me.

"Do they often do that with you in the room?"

He pointed with a nod of the head. Di's legs were up in the air and Derek was driving into her, amazingly they were being fairly silent. I watched for a moment, they were oblivious to anything else and suddenly it moved from being sexy to being creepy. I heaved a bit more and pulled Gary out of the chair, "C'mon. I'm going to bed. Alone, you can go home."

I kissed him goodnight at the front door and told him to call me in the afternoon, making sure he had the house number, then squealed as I climbed into my cold bed where I lay for five minutes wondering about getting revenge on Di for the boob tube prank before dozing off.

I woke after ten the next morning, still stuck for an idea but with a determination to get her back.

Early in the afternoon Gaz called, eager to get together, and to prove he was anxious to meet me and spend time together not just as a step towards getting into my knickers he suggested tea the next day in the Victoria Arcade. "We can talk and there's loads of shops and that to look around."

I was easily persuaded and agreed to meet him at half past five for a nose around and he could buy me tea afterwards.

My cunning plan for revenge burst into life while we were on our way back from the restaurant, having a conversation along the lines of why had I only had a cake and a pot of Lady Grey tea and he was expecting a full meal, and how in the South it's Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner and in the North it's Breakfast, Dinner, Tea, and how next time he should warn me it was a proper meal not an afternoon snack, oh so there's going to be a next time then? Yeah, probably, if you play your cards right, how many dates will that be then? If you're counting then it's never going to be enough. That conversation.

It was while we were having that conversation, I had comfortably slipped my arm through his and was happily wandering along thinking his cards were looking pretty good from where I was sitting when I spotted an antique furniture restoration showroom. I stopped at the window to see what they were using in the way of fabrics when I spotted a box on display.

"Perish Water Soluble Thread, 500yds. £11.95".

Underneath that it said:" a cost-effective and easy-to-use approach to making temporary stitches. It quickly dissolves in water. This thread is ideal for hand basting, trapunto quilting, and other applications where an erasable temporary stitch is needed."

I skipped in through the front door and handed over fifteen pounds, almost forgetting my change in me excitement.

"Do not breathe a word about this." I told a mystified Gary.

We continued on our stroll but my mind was elsewhere. I wanted to get home and start on my revenge. Gary took it quite badly, thinking I was keen to dump him. I assured him I wasn't and told him to meet me in the Bricklayers Arms on Wednesday evening and I'd buy him tea. One with chips and onion rings, but right now I had to go.

Back home I retrieved the strappy leather fetish dress type thing from Di's room and set to with scissors and needle. It was going to be a fairly long process so the sooner I started the sooner I finished, also my plan was still only rudimentary, I wasn't entirely sure how I'd get it to pan out.

I met Gary for Burger, Chips, Fried Onion Rings and Peas but played hard to get and didn't drink, largely because I had an 8am lecture and a night of alcohol and who knew what debauchery would have left me well below my best before lunch time. I sent him home with a promise of a follow-up date on Saturday.

The next element in my quest for revenge slipped quietly into place on Friday.

The new month was a few days old and with it the start of the big Christmas party push in all the clubs. One of our other favourites, "Confessions" was having a Leather and Lace themed pre-Christmas event, again free for girls to get in before ten pm so a big tick in the box as far as affordability was concerned. It was scheduled for the last weekend before Uni finished for the year so would be a massive blow out, going on until the sun came up probably. Which in Yorkshire in December is quite late.

I saw the posters go up in the University corridors and wandered across on my way home to book a couple of tickets, before rushing back to see Di and (in an Oscar worthy acting display) announcing "This has got to be the place to go, I can wear my course work creation. It will be fantastic."

For my coursework I was making a punk bridal outfit, quite short in the skirt, quite tight in the bodice and quite clingy, with a lace veil, applique lace bustier top and inbuilt suspenders with white seamed stockings. To set it off I had a pair of grey four inch stilettoes that I was planning on sweet talking Derek to see if he had access to a spray gun that he could use to paint them a high gloss white.

I let Di grow the idea I was hoping she'd come up with on her own, I didn't want to be too obvious.

"I could wear the straps. Where is it by the way?"

Result. Her idea.

"Oh, I took it to get dry cleaned. I'll pick it up next week." And gave myself time to finish replacing all the stitching.

Now I just needed to bring Derek and Gary into the equation.

My opportunity for that came along the next day, Gary was keen to see me again, I suspect he had hopes for more than an unsatisfactory hand job through his jeans and a squeeze of my boobs, and if I was totally honest, so was I. Derek would do whatever Di told him to.

There was a bit of an elephant in the room however, and I wanted to tackle it head on.

"Di, assuming we bring the boys home again, and assuming it's as cold as the fourth ring of hell again, er what are I mean, what hum. You know how, well, when you and Derek..."

Really strong tackle I told myself. You really laid down the law there. Fortunately, Di understood what I was getting at and as she had always been the more outrageous of us was quite clear in her intentions.

"Am I going to shag Derek on the sofa again?" she shot straight to the point. "Yes, probably if it's that cold in the rest of the flat. I was a bit pissed last time but I wouldn't be freaked out if you and Gaz were up to something similar, we could put the sofa back-to-back with the armchair if you want a bit more privacy, or..." she grinned wickedly.

I gave her a look of developing horror "Or what Di, or wha...." The penny dropped, "No. We are not going to do it next to each other on the sofa. No. Definitely not."

She grinned a bit more.

"No, Gary and I haven't, well, we haven't had proper sex yet, so not this time."

A laugh and a slap on the arm, "Oh so maybe some other time?" She laughed some more, and started singing "You said you'd do it, you said you'd do it, you sexy mama you said you'd do it".

I shook my head in despair, announcing to no one in particular "I have to live with that for fuck sake."

Saturday afternoon rolled around and I found myself dragged out to a cold and muddy touchline where we watched Gary and Derek shouting things like "Man on" and "Offside Refereeeeee" and my personal favourite "Square ball" but they won, 2 -- 1 with Derek scoring one and Gary getting an assist, whatever an assist is, plus they seemed almost child-like in their excitement that we'd turned up, which was quite endearing. Also, watching twenty-two blokes running round in shorts wasn't the worst thing I could have done that afternoon.

The ref's whistle brought the show to an end, and with it we scored loads of cool points for the guys by walking back to the changing rooms with them. Despite the offers we declined the opportunity of joining them in the showers and pointed to the pub over the road. The boys agreed enthusiastically and told us to grab a table and it was two lagers and a two bags of pork scratchings.

We did our 'great girlfriend' credentials no harm at all by having the beer and pigskin-based snacks waiting when they arrived at the front of a surge of testosterone as both teams rolled in, retelling the passage of the game in intricate detail, we were introduced to the team, who all seemed to have names like Smiffy and Dodge. We were the only girls there at that point, and I was quite enjoying being the centre of attention, although poor Gary seemed a bit put out by me getting offered a succession of drinks.

We stayed in the pub until the teams had both made their man of the match awards, which involved the selected players having to stand on a bar stool and down a pint while the team sang a song about Zulu warriors and counted down from five, any excess when they reached one had to be upended on the player's head. Male bonding eh? Doncha luvvit?

As we headed back to the flat I mentioned the year end party at Confessions, surprisingly finding some resistance. Gary was keen to go to Steel Express, turns out they were having a 'School's Out' party and he had a bit of a thing for the Britney Spears / St Trinians look but a whisper about the outfit I'd be wearing and a promise that Di would have the strappy dress and suddenly he seemed happy with my plan.

We burst back into the sub-zero temperatures of the flat and set Derek to work with the fireplace, which was soon spewing heat and mood lighting into the room. I realised pretty quickly that if I was going to put the chair and sofa back-to-back no one would benefit from the heat of the fire so with a bit of a dropping feeling in my stomach I settled down in the armchair with Gary and tried my hardest to ignore the sounds and movement coming from the sofa.

The fire was warming the room nicely as our tongues entwined, hands reached down and lifted my top up and over my head then found buttons on my trousers and pushed them down leaving me in just underwear and socks. I lost the socks immediately but was happy enough in my underwear. I'd put some thought into the evening's events so was wearing a matching set of high cut thong backed knickers with a sheer lace bra trimmed in pink.

It was uncomfortable and scratchy but I looked hot as a hot thing, a fact Gary was smart enough to acknowledge by going "oh my fookin' lord jesus," as he took a good long look. I giggled and pulled his hoodie off over his head, to my disappointment he had a Liverpool FC shirt with 'Carragher' printed across the shoulders. Disappointment because it's not a sexy look, not because I'm a secret Everton fan or something. Once he lost the shirt I was happy again and pulled him back down to the chair.

My boobs started getting some serious attention, he was trying to work through and around the bra, making an effort to scoop me out of the top, which was even less comfortable than the bra itself so I introduced him to the concept of front fasteners and lay back as first one nipple then the other was licked, caressed, and sucked to a rock-hard bud. I grabbed the back of his head and held him against my chest as I pushed my head back in delight.

My eye was caught by movement beside me; Di was in a similar state to me, except her underwear was less sexy and didn't match. Her plain white M&S bra was lying across the back of the sofa and she was holding Derek in her crotch, giving small whimpers of delight. She caught my eye and we gave each other a conspiratorial smile then got back to the important things.

I pushed down on Gary's head. He caught on quickly and found himself in between my thighs, as I shrugged out of my bra I felt him moving my pants to one side and a rough rub on my swollen clit. Rough though it was he brought a shiver of excitement to me, a shiver that continued as I felt a tongue take long lick up the length of my pussy.

Before he got too involved I pushed him up and slipped out of the rest of my underwear, standing and giving an arms out to the sides "what do you think of that" pose. He like it very much and in moments I was lying back with his lips working magic on my swollen clit. He started rubbing with a couple of fingers which I thought I wouldn't like and was about to stop him when a very familiar tingle started building up, getting stronger as he rubbed.

I gave a cry, loud enough to get Diane's attention. "Race you to it" she called in a breathy, panting voice. I was too close to speak and grabbed onto the cloth on the cushion, the textile student in me noting it was a skinny antique style corduroy fabric with a raised seam around the edges. The other 99.999% of me didn't care and dissolved into a well of pleasure as an orgasm rippled through me.

I lay back, giggling while he sat back on his heels looking pleased with himself. Not as pleased as I was with him it has to be said. I took a moment to recover then lifted myself out of the chair, pushed on his shoulders to make him stand and knelt in front of him.

Looking up into his expectant eyes I started unbuckling his belt, then undid his jeans, pulling them down. He stepped out and had the good sense to whip his socks off while he was at it, balancing himself on my shoulder as he undressed. Standing again I could feel the anticipation oozing out of him in waves. Taking a moment to prolong the agony I checked out the underpants, plain blue boxers, clean, and in good order. Maybe someone else had put some planning into the evening's attire, then I remembered the Jamie Carragher footy shirt.

With a smile to myself I reached my hand up through the leg hole, paused to give the meaty package inside a quick stroke then moved on to the waistband. With a swift movement I pulled down and he was naked, a semi erect cock demanding my immediate attention.

I was relatively inexperienced at oral in those days, this was only the third dick I'd ever had I my mouth and one of them had only been for around twenty seconds, but I was determined to do as good a job as he had and lady enthusiasm carried me on her randy shoulders. With a laugh I parted my lips and looked up to a pair of saucer-like eyes, pushing the head and shaft in so my tongue could sandwich the growing length against the roof of my mouth.

Smiling round the growing shaft I closed my lips and sucked in what I hoped was a sensual and stimulating manner. The rapid expansion told me I was on the right path, forcing my jaw open and almost making me gag.

I gripped him by the base and started working my lips up and down the warm length, to my left I could see Diane leaning back onto the cushions with her legs on Derek's shoulders, we caught each other's eye again, I winked and she smiled. I was less self-conscious than I'd have expected, instead feeling empowered and sexy.

I continued to move my mouth over Gary's cock, working myself faster up and down, my inexperience being compensated for by my desire. I paused for a moment to give my aching jaw a rest and lashed the plum like head with my tongue, somewhere inside me a groan of delight came out as I threw my head back, shaking my blonde hair over my shoulders. "More?" I asked not expecting anything other than a positive response, which I got in the form of a vigorous nodding of the head.

I bent back to my task, slipping my lips in a tight circle over the crown to rest at the top of the shaft. I set to stroking my tongue over the head as far as I could before returning to the familiar up and down motion.

A minute or two passed and I noticed a further swelling, followed by a mild quivering in his thighs followed by a groan and a gasp. A jet of something bitter and sticky hit the back of my throat making me choke and pull my head back. I was able to aim the rest of the flow at my chest, covering my tits in a stream of white goo.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to um, do it in your mouth" he stammered apologetically.

I coughed and swallowed.

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't mind, but next time warn me."

Surreptitiously I picked up his red 'Carragher' shirt and before he could stop me wiped up the mess on my torso, laughing at his complaints when he noticed.

On the Sofa Di and Gary were in full swing, he was driving in hard and she was panting in excitement, her boobs were quivering with each thrust. I sat back on the armchair and pulled Gaz down to join me.

I kissed him, more accurately I devoured him. He held me by the waist with his right hand and squeezed my boobs with the left, tweaking my nipple as he did.

Round our combined mouths, teeth, and lips I asked, "You going to go again soon?" although my exploratory hands had found his groin and already knew the answer. In the five or so minutes since we'd finished he was already growing again. Thank God for young men with their stamina and recovery times.

I carried on exploring the inside of his mouth with my tongue and the growing heat in his crotch with my hands for a few minutes more until he had an erection you could cut glass with again then pushed him into position between my legs.

The party on the sofa had moved on, Di was kneeling with her boobs resting on the arm as she got hammered from behind, almost beyond coherent speech she was groaning in synch with the pounding "Oh. Fuck. That. Is. Good. Fuck. Me. Oh. Fuck."

I was keen to get something similar and opened my legs, wide. The red tip of Gary's cock stroked along my labia before driving in. Our eyes locked and he started moving in and out in a steady rhythm.

I grabbed his waist and pulled, I wanted him deep inside me, he took the hint and sped up, pistoning in and out in a rapid movement. Across on the Sofa Di gave a strangled cry as her orgasm crashed into her, she must have squeezed tighter because Derek barked out a garbled squawk as well as he shot his cum deep into her.

Gary was pounding furiously now, when he suddenly stiffened and made a loud "uuunnngghhhh" noise and blasted my insides with a second load.

Disappointed I squirmed under him, trying to get some sensation myself but he'd lasted a whole two minutes on his second time around.

Stupidly (I was young) I shouted out a fake orgasm as I bucked underneath him and held onto him kissing him gently this time around. Over on the Sofa Di and Derek were making exhausted but satisfied sounds as they snuggled into the cushions.

Derek turned to Di and whispered something that got him a slap, and a "No, we fucking won't".

I looked over, "Won't what?" I asked.

"Mister pervy here suggested we could get it on together while he and Gary watched then he'd be good to go again."

"Oh, did he. Tell you what Derek, you come over here and get in a sixty-nine with Gary until his and your cocks are good to go again and we'll consider it. No? I didn't think so."

That seemed to snap them both out of their reverie, taking it in turns to go for a pee and get their clothes back on. Gary chose to just wear his hoody for some reason, I took pity and promised to wash his shirt by Monday, which meant yes we had another date then.

Once they'd gone DI rushed to the bathroom and reappeared a few minutes later in her dressing gown, giving me the chance to go. When I got back with my pink fluffy robe she was curled up on one side of the sofa, pointing at the cushion next to her. I sat and stared into the dying embers of the fire.

"Next time, we get them side by side on here. What d'you say?" she asked with a wicked grin.

I was less opposed than I had been last time she'd suggested it but wasn't about to rush into anything. "Let's see what pans out" I answered, hating myself for sounding like my Dad. Pans out, what are you girl? Forty-eight, ex RAF logistics officer and balding?

Monday came around and I met Gary back in the Brickies, Lasagna, salad and chips and a large Chardonnay for me, burger, chips, peas, and onion rings for him. I had a washed and folded Liverpool shirt in a Teso bag for him, I warned him not to complain about why I'd washed it or it might never happen again. It wasn't going to happen again that night as he couldn't take me back to his because he was staying at his mum's sister's place and turning up with a girl would only lead to a conversation he didn't want to have.

"Honest Wendz, if me mam found out I'd gorra girlfriend she'd be plannin' the weddin' and insistin' you came to stay fer Chrissy."

I wasn't about to take him back to ours either as my bedroom was an absolute tip, filled with my end of year course work, and I wasn't about to shag in the living room when Di was on her own, either sitting with a magazine in the corner or tiptoeing round being as discrete as she can be, which is not very.

She was away the next weekend, her sister's eighteenth birthday I think, so Gary and I had the place to ourselves. To my disappointment he still had a hair trigger, but I made sure he looked after me with his lips and fingers a couple of times. I even made sure I had a towel so Jamie Carragher didn't have to step up to the task again.

Di arrived back on the Tuesday, we had the end of year coursework to hand in or she would probably have stayed home and my plan for revenge would have gone awry, as it was I presented my Steam Punk wedding dress, she presented her flowing combat dress and miraculously we got top credits towards our degrees.

From the Thursday on there was little in the way of work, all the coursework was in and returned and the serious work of drinking and partying was all that anyone was concerned about.

On Friday before the party at 'Confessions' Derek turned up in the afternoon with a suspicious looking package that he unwrapped in the kitchen to reveal what looked like a stock cube. Gary arrived shortly afterwards, both seemed ludicrously excited.

Gary could barely contain himself, "You gorrit? 'Ave yer?" Derek unwrapped the stock cube again. "Oh, smart, 'ow much did ya get and what do I owe ya?"

Derek giggled, "I got an eighth, cost me forty quid. Should do fer us all."

I looked puzzled as Gary handed over two ten-pound notes. "An eighth? What like an After Eight?"

Two baffled faces stared back at me, Gary explained, "No, an eighth of resin. Cannabis resin. Look, we mix it in a cake mix or cookie mix and it's like getting pished up. But much better, got any eggs and butter?" he finished by plonking a Tesco Finest Chocolate Brownie kit down on the kitchen table.

Shaking my head I checked the fridge, which had a loaf of bread, a carton of milk and an almost empty tub of easy spread 'I can't believe it's not butter'. "No, and I'm not going out again tonight, it's miserable out there. I'll get some tomorrow, ok?"

And it was miserable, cold, dark, and rainy with a side order of sleet as befits December in Leeds but despite that the boys announced they were heading out, they had tickets to see Leeds play Millwall and apparently Football was more important than spending the evening with your girlfriend.

What made it worse was this was not out of any great love for Leeds, both were Liverpool fans, instead they were hoping the London side would win as it reinforced Liverpool's rightful position as top team. I think. I really don't understand the mentality of football fans. As it happened Millwall won convincingly, 2 -- 0, so it was as well the boys weren't coming back until the next day as their mood would have been like a stroppy ten-year-old being sent to bed before Blackadder finished.

We started Saturday evening with a round of Jägermeister shots followed by a chocolate (and cannabis resin) brownie, then another round of shots while we waited for the taxi. We'd splashed out as we didn't want our outfits getting wet in the incessant Yorkshire rain, I was in my lace steam punk wedding dress, my painted stilettoes holding up nicely, Di had the straps and a pair of bright red doc marten boots, Derek was in a black suit with black shirt and black tie.

We'd managed to persuade him into eyeliner with black dye in his hair with a shot of scarlet in the centre. Gary had a pair of super tight black trousers, a bright red shirt and waistcoat with a tailcoat, finished off with a black cravat and a top hat. I had found a set of flying goggles in the Drama Department and 'borrowed' them for the night, which gave him a nice steam-punk look to match mine.

The club was rammed, bodies crushed against bodies, whether it was the end of year feel, the Jägermeister, or the weed infused brownies I couldn't be entirely certain, probably a combination of the lot, but I was loving it. Constantly being crushed between heaving, sweaty bodies was having a really profound effect on me, looking at Di I could see she was in a similar situation; the accidental and not so accidental contact was sending us both into a state of arousal I'd never experienced before and not often since.

I dragged her out onto the dance floor, I was still aware enough to know the final act in my planned revenge was due shortly, the advert I'd seen had said "Confessions Year end Foam Party" and I knew the foam was due to start spraying and I wanted to be there when it did. More importantly I wanted Di to be there when it did.

As the opening bars of 'Tainted Love' trumpeted across the club the big grills u=in the walls and ceiling started belching bubbles, lots of bubbles. They coated the floor to a depth of five or six feet. They bubbles stuck to everything, dampening everyone's clothes, wilting their hair, making their make-up run and sending anything white pretty much see-through.

Did I mention my white dress? Yeah, I was on a bit of display, although I'd taken care to double line the front of the bust so the sides of my boobs were obvious but I was marginally covered in the nipple area. Di pointed at me and almost collapsed with laughter, "My God Wendz, look at you..."

She hadn't noticed, good. My £11.95 investment in Perish Water Soluble Thread was coming to the fore. As the dress got wetter and Di got sweatier and hotter so the threads were one by one giving up the battle.

Funnily enough it wasn't the ones around her boobs or bum that gave in the fight first. I thought they might have been first to go as they were (1) under the most pressure (2) subject to most 'accidental' contact and (3) where I'd used the least thread. No, in fact it was around her middle, first the back, then the front. She didn't notice, the Jägermeister and Brownies continued to do their good work and we danced on.

Gary and Derek had stayed off the dance floor, in what will probably be the only time he'll ever use the excuse Derek said he didn't want to ruin his make-up and Gary could barely walk in his trousers they were so tight.

Di started to notice something was up when she moved out of the main foam cloud and could see more than a couple of feet and more importantly could be seen from more than the same distance. She started getting a bit of an entourage, mainly blokes, dancing closer to her, all eyes seemed to be on her which initially she lapped up, putting on a show, wiggling her hips, shaking her shoulders, rolling her head around to whip her long black hair left and right.

It was after a particularly energetic move that she finally realised what was happening, with an embarrassed squeak she clamped her arms across her sweaty boobs and scuttled into the foam, giving a squeal of "Wendy, what did you do?"

I could barely move from laughing, my stomach cramped, I snorted, I was almost unable to breathe I was in such paroxysms. I'm not convinced a bit of pee didn't leak out but as my outfit was pretty wet anyway it didn't matter.

From deep inside the mound of bubbles a plaintive wail made its way to me. "Wendy, help. I'm nearly naked."

I joined the boys in the bar area and found Gary, retrieving his Top Hat. I reached in and pulled away the false lining to release the tiny bikini top I'd made from white muslin, it was two sizes too small for me so would really struggle to contain Diane's more impressive assets, but it was the best offer she was going to get.

I returned to the floor, wading through the foam to bring relief to my friend. And to laugh at her predicament, that was more important. Obviously.

I found her doubled over giggling, she'd found a couple of the remains of the strappy dress with melty thread in the stitches and had worked out what I'd done.

"It must have taken you ages. Was this after I pinched the boob tube and made you..."

I interrupted "Yep. Gotcha. Told you I would. Here's a top for you."

She took the tiny, gossamer thin bra and tied it around her. It really did a shit job of covering her up but at least she wasn't topless any longer and might just get away with staying in the club until we wanted to go rather than when we were told to go. As she led me back to the bar area she looked over her shoulder and in an ominous tone informed me:

"This isn't over. I'll get you back when you least expect it."

So far as being allowed to stay? Fat chance. Her thong, heels, and a tiny bra top combo was too much even for Confessions' year end party night and we soon found ourselves outside looking for a taxi. Diane and I were still laughing uproariously, what influence the various mood enhancers we'd taken over the course of the evening had I'll leave others to judge, however it's fair to say we felt no pain.

Back at the flat we crashed into the living room and immediately set Derek to work starting the fire. Gary complained he couldn't move in his trousers they were so tight and dumped his boots by the front door before stripping down to an interesting looking pair of tight black trunks.

Di and I kept our coats hugged around us as we waited for the room to get to a state we could live in; while we waited I grabbed the Jägermeister and Di got the remains of the brownies, which disappeared in a matter of seconds, washed down with several shots each.

Once the fire started to do it's magic with light and warmth the room reached a temperature that was above the EU minimums for storing fresh shellfish allowing us to lose the coats. Di looked at her next to nothing outfit, then at me and giggled.

"One of us looks overdressed. Hey, Derek, come and sit here on the sofa, next to Gary."

I took a sharp breath in but it was too late, she had a couple of cushions on the floor and was on her knees between Derek's. She looked back at me, "Well, come on. Race you."

I vaguely tried putting up a token resistance but the Jägermeister and Brownies combined with the arousal from being crushed in amongst all the bodies in Confessions meant it was a losing battle from the start.

I joined her on the floor between Gary's legs. "What d'you mean 'Race'?" I asked.

"First to get his pants off of course," she responded, not realising I had a distinct advantage in that Gary had already done more than half the work in shedding his trousers, allowing me to lean not his lap and drag his trunks down to his ankles in one move. "I win." I announced, before burying my face in his groin and taking his still flaccid cock into my mouth where I did my best to bring it to life.

Beside me Di was struggling, Derek's trousers seemed to be caught on his jacket and no amount of thrashing about seemed able to release him. With an exasperated cry she stood up and told him to get naked, taking the opportunity to reach behind and untie her top. Standing in just her thong and heels she looked across to where I was continuing my oral assault on Gary's now rigid pole and remarked "Overdressed again I see". I slowed and released one hand to make a sign. To be fair I didn't need the whole hand, just one finger. A mock gasp of horror came from my right, "How very rude," then she was back kneeling in front of a now naked Derek.

She paused a moment and turned to me, giving me a nudge in the side with her elbow. "See, it's alright isn't it."

I looked back, Gary's cock filling my mouth, withdrew for a moment and agreed. Then watched as her lips made their way slowly up the length of Derek's erection. On closer examination and comparison, it was slightly larger than Gary's, a bit more in the girth department and with a more pronounced head. Not that it makes a difference boys, it's the person we're interested in. Honest.

That was when I made my tactical error of the night. I left them all alone for a few minutes while I went to dump my dress in my room, choosing to keep my stockings and heels on. By the time I got back Gary was kneeling behind her, thrusting into her at a rate of knots.

Hands on hips I gave a whistle. "Oi, Di you slapping tart. Are you shagging my boyfriend?"

She had her mouth full so her response was a bit muffled and broken by laughter. "Eth, oo ern oothin im." She stopped and took Derek out of her mouth then started again. "Yes, you weren't using him, and I told you it wasn't over. No, don't stop," this last was to Gary who was looking nervously at me, then Di, then back at me.

I laughed, which set Gary's face on a less worried look. "Yes, go on. Don't stop. Do I get a go with them both then?"

Di gave a big sigh of delight and smiled. "Mmmmmmm. Yes, when I'm done." Then she bent to take Derek back into her mouth.

I was about to go and get the Jägermeister and pour myself a shot when Gary started to make a familiar panting sound, Di was preoccupied with her good work on Derek to notice until it was too late, also I started complaining, "Oh, Gary, no. Now I miss out," but it was too late. His hair trigger had kicked in again and he was sending a pulsing jet into my best friend's pussy.

Di pulled her head up in surprise, "What, no. Oh...fuck. Oh." Then she gave Derek a wink, "Better get in and carry on there matey..."

She started moving up his body when I stepped in, "No. No, you don't. My turn now, You, get over here. You two can watch." I pointed at the armchair then Gary and Di as I said that. Illustrating my points.

I sat back with one leg over each arm of the chair, stroking a couple of fingers along my wet slit as I gazed up at a nervous looking Derek. He shot a glance across to Gary and Di who both nodded, before bending and rubbing the more pronounced head of his swollen cock along my labia, parting them gently then thrusting home, building up speed. I moved my legs up so my calves were resting on his shoulders, God it felt good. I was quite fond of Gary and he usually made me cum with his mouth and fingers but this, this was a serious fucking and I was relishing it.

I called a temporary halt and turned around, pulling the cushion onto the floor, and kneeling on it. I slipped a couple of fingers in and took the sticky wetness and rubbed it onto my clit as he re-entered me, pumping hard in synch with my rubbing on my hot bud. Somewhere in the recess of my consciousness I was aware that even if Gary had been ready to go I wouldn't have been interested, this was filling me up and obliterating every other sensation. Ohhhhhhh Fuuuuccckkkk it was good.

A familiar tingle was growing, but I didn't want to cum. I wanted this build up, the anticipation, the incredible fucking I was getting to continue forever. I stopped attacking my clit and pushed my chest down onto the cushion, oh shit, it was even better. He was touching something inside with each stroke that felt like it was setting off a fire alarm in my body.

I gave an unintelligible growl and pushed forward, off the impaling prick, before pushing him to sit on the cushion and straddling him, looking deep into his eyes as I sank full length down his cock. He sat up and I leaned forward so he could get at my nipples as I ground away on him. Someone had a finger back on my clit which felt divine. Oh, it was me.

"Getting close," Derek moaned through gritted teeth, "Me too, wait, wait, wait, aahh, ahh, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh Shit." I collapsed forwards onto his chest. I opened one eye and looked blearily at him. "OK, now you can cu..." he interrupted me with a massive thrust up and a moan followed by another three or four jerks of his hips.

I rolled off, Di and Gary were still watching, open mouthed. Di spoke first. "Blimey girl, are you always like that? Derek, you going to be...? Nah, didn't think so, not after that. OK babe," this was back to me, "I'm going to bed now, and I'll be taking this one with me. I'm not finished yet." With that she dragged a dumbfounded Gary with her and slammed her bedroom door shut.

I looked over at Derek, "How about you? You staying? We could have another go in the morning maybe?" He didn't need telling twice and was in my bed warming it up in moments while I went and towelled myself down in the bathroom.

Judging by the noises coming through the walls Di and Gary did it three or four times, but not for long each time. Derek and I had another go in the morning but while it was nice it wasn't anywhere near the intensity of the previous night. I'm pretty certain the mood enhancers had a lot to do with it, I know they had a lot to do with my loss of all inhibition.

We both broke up with the boys over the Christmas break, well more like we just never got back together the next year. We moved flat the next year into somewhere with central heating so the impetus for the use of the living room was less, although there were a couple of occasions when things got a bit steamy but it was over twenty years until we did anything quite that wild again.... together. I might tell you about the hockey team and the night I met my husband one day.