Blistered Lips

The Party: Joe

“Don’t you just love this,” Melanie gushed as she and her sister made their way through the festive tables. “Oh, Melanie,” Lonnie replied, “it’s lovely, just lovely. But, let me make this clear: I expect you to behave yourself tonight!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Lonnie.”

“You’re playing coy with me, sister dear.” Lonnie smiled sweetly, looking around her as they settled into their seats. The band was starting to tune their instruments, the other tables rapidly filling. “I saw what you were up to with that man last night.”

Melanie giggled, reaching across the table cloth to touch the petal of a pink flower, part of the ribboned centerpiece. “He was cute. You have to admit that. Come on, sis, you were flirting with him, too.”

“I was not! Anyway, there is a big difference between a little harmless flirtation and crawling all over a man like a dog in heat!”

“Where’s the waiter? I want a drink,” Lydia interrupted as she slid into the seat next to Melanie.

“Gee, Mother, we’re fine; thanks for asking,” Melanie teased as she scooted her chair over to give Lydia a little more leg room. Then, getting a good look at her mother’s attire, added, “What took you so long? Had to have a steward help you squeeze into that dress?”

Lydia scowled at her daughter, even as Lonnie, taking a second look at her mother, squealed, “She’s right! That dress is downright slutty!” “Hmph,” Lydia mumbled, straightening the cups of the black satin around her breasts, “The problem with you two is that you don’t know the difference between sexy and slutty. And you think because I’m your mother, I don’t have the right to look either way! Anyway, both of you are pretty dolled up yourselves.”

“Well, I think all three of you are absolute visions.”

The startled threesome looked up as the rather tall gentleman, his hand on the back of a chair continued, “Is this chair taken?” Their spat forgotten, the three women pointedly scooted their chairs about, making room for him. “Certainly not; have a seat,” Melanie cooed, patting the chair to her left. Lonnie rolled her eyes. There she goes again, she thought.

Even as the man was sitting between the two sisters, a waiter arrived at the table with a bottle of champagne, nestled in a bucket of sparkling ice. “I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and ordered something to drink.” Turning to one and then the other sister as he spoke, he made sure his knees brushed against both of their legs under the table. While Lonnie reddened slightly and looked flustered, Melanie just smiled and arched her eyebrow.

That was very nice of you,” said Lydia, regaining her composure and smiling at him.

“I haven’t had champagne in a very long time.”

“Well that’s a shame. A lady as lovely as you — as all of you — should have champagne every single day.”

“By the way,” he said, picking up the flute in front of him, “my name is Joe.” Lifting the glass towards the three of them, he continued, “and I would like to propose a toast.” The three women lifted their glasses in return. Melanie said, “Well, Joe, my name is Melanie, and this is my sister, Lonnie, and my mother, Lydia. And we would love for you to make a toast, wouldn’t we?” She looked at the other two, as they lifted their glasses in agreement.

“To Lydia, Melanie, and Lonnie: The most beautiful women on board this ship.”

Raising the champagne flute to glossy, red lips, Lydia giggled. “To us, then,” said Lonnie. Melanie, watching her mother and sister sip their champagne, thought to herself that all three of them really were looking incredibly hot tonight. She turned to Joe.

So, dare I ask? What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“I guess I just needed a break,” he replied, “needed some night magic, some excitement.”

Lydia nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. Right now, her life back home seemed so far away, so forgotten. Night magic, she thought, I like that. Exactly what I need, what we all need. Come to think of it, where was Bill? Even as she looked around the crowded tables, she felt a little twitch, a slight moistening, between her thighs.

“Who are you looking for, mother? Hmmm?”

The playful taunt in her daughter’s voice was not lost on Lydia. Melanie knew damned well who she was looking for! She looked back at her daughter, sticking out her tongue, wriggling her nose. “Maybe I’ll tell you and maybe I won’t, little miss smarty pants.”

Joe watched this interplay between Mother and daughter, a lop-sided grin creasing his face. It was apparent to him that each of these women sitting here — whether she realized it or not — was hot to trot. From the vantage point of his corner bar stool last night he’d watched in the mirror as all three of them practically climbed down some guy’s throat. Not that the fellow seemed to mind. Who would? Who in their right mind could turn down all that pussy just aching to be fucked?

Just as he was motioning for the waiter to bring another bottle of champagne, he was surprised to see the guy making his way through the crowd towards their table. This is going to be very interesting, he thought as he turned toward Melanie and nudged her. “Is this the guy your mother’s looking for?” All three women turned to look just as Bill skirted around the next table. Behind him they could see a waiter carrying a tray of drinks.

“Ladies,” Bill said, taking the empty seat next to Lydia and waving his hand at the waiter, now placing margaritas around the table. “And gentleman,” he added, nodding across the table to Joe. “I bring the nectar of the gods. I bring Lydia’s favorite beverage. I bring booze!” Joe and the sisters laughed. Lydia smiled, her eyes glittering, her cheeks reddening. No sooner were the words out of his mouth when another waiter appeared with more champagne.

Still laughing, Joe reached across the table extending his hand towards Bill. “Better watch it, pal. These pretty ladies are gonna think we’re trying to get them drunk and take advantage of them.” “Not such a bad idea, now that I think about it,” Bill chuckled, reaching to shake Joe’s hand.

“My name is Joe. I hope I didn’t crash your party, buddy.”

“Hell, no! The more the merrier, as they say. Three women are sure more than I can handle. Glad to meet you. The name’s Bill.”

As the waiter placed the last margarita in front of Lonnie, Melanie grabbed at Joe’s arm. “Well, let’s see if Joe can handle just one woman,” she challenged. Pulling him from his chair, she dragged him out through the cluster of tables and onto the dance floor. As they reached the hard wood surface, she wrapped her arms around his neck and slithered her body up close to his. Pulling her to him, feeling the press of hot breasts against his chest, he thought to himself, I am gonna have a piece of this tonight. I might even have a piece of all three of them. After all, who’s counting? He wasn’t surprised when he felt her nibbling at the edge of his earlobe. She needed it bad, no doubt about it.