We were at a party (aren’t we always). It was just a normal house party, mums and dads from the village. People you meet when the children are at primary school, some friends, but mostly acquaintances.

There were 20 or so people, mainly couples. The house was a decent size, it had a living room, a dining room and a big kitchen downstairs so people weren’t all squashed into one room.

Dance music was on in the living room, where everybody was dancing, surprisingly that was only the ladies! The odd husband would pop his head through the door but then make a quick exit when ‘It’s Raining Men’ started blaring out. It certainly wasn’t raining men in here.

Most of the guys had levitated to the kitchen. I always called my husband Jonah when we went to parties because that was where you would always find him. Near the drink, the food and as far away from music that he disliked as possible. The other advantage, not that he would admit to it was that everybody else would come into the kitchen to get their drinks enabling him and the other guys to eye up each other’s wives and partners.

As the night wore on a few of those without the stamina to party moved into the dining room to eat and chat, very convivial I’m sure but certainly not my thing. The chance to dance was never one to be turned down. The drink was flowing, the noise levels growing and people were becoming more carefree.

As one song finished, I needed a refill so popped through into the kitchen, the room always seemed to go quiet when someone of the fairer sex arrived as if the conversation was not for their ears. I got my drink and stood chatting to my husband and a couple of other guys.

The chatter level was quite high, but this was trumped by the arrival of Anita. A lady whose voice always heralded her arrival well before she arrived in person. Certainly not a shrinking violet. Bubbly and lively if you’re being polite, overbearing and brash if you were being more honest.

She was married to Jim (well Jim to everybody except Anita who insisted on James) a quiet, pleasant guy if he ever got the chance to speak. He was one of those sitting quietly next door, probably revelling in the relative peace.

Anita was all airs and graces regularly regaling everybody with her holiday exploits and her new swanky car all courtesy of her devoted (or scared shitless) husband, James. The airs and graces though tended to disappear though after a few drinks and the ‘real’ Anita surfaced. The alcohol certainly loosened her tongue and seemed to impact on her libido.

She flounced into the kitchen flirting away, thrusting her tits into any guy’s eyeline on her way for a refill. She got her drink and bumped into Chris (or ‘God’s Gift’ as my friends called him). He was a good-looking guy but oh didn’t he know it. I’d had more interesting conversations with my daughters pet rabbit than I ever had with Chris. Not being horrible but he wasn’t the brightest button, and I always thought he was more in love with the mirror than his wife but maybe that was me being a bit bitchy. Anita’s low-cut blouse gave him a close-up view of her ample chest, that was for sure, and she was rubbing up against him clearly trying to get a response.

“Fucking prick tease,” said the ever-eloquent Neil who was standing beside me.

Chris though was clearly wanting to see how far he could get with Anita, taking the drink from her hand and putting it on the table before pulling her into him for a quick kiss. She initially tried to push him away, but he was clearly on a mission and persisted until we could see her respond and their tongue duelling began. His arm went round her neck as he held her firmly in a clinch clearly keen to explore her back teeth with his tongue.

There were four of us ‘in the audience’ as these two became better acquainted. My husband, the aforementioned Neil and Tony who was over by the door to the hallway.

Chris steered Anita back against the wall and was starting to work her over. I could see he already had a couple more blouse buttons undone and was giving her right tit a firm squeeze through her bra.

Anita was groaning but trying to push Chris away. “No more, stop, my husband might come in,” said the panting blonde.

“Tony, shut the door and don’t let anybody in,” said Chris in a very matter of fact way.

“No, no no,” said Anita. I felt my husband start to move and instinctively sensed he was going to intervene and break things up, so I grabbed his arm and whispered for him to leave it just a bit longer to see how things panned out. He looked quite shocked at my reaction but settled back next to me leaning against the kitchen cabinets.

Next to me on the other side all I could hear was “Fuck, fuck fuuuucck, fuucck,” from Neil as he watched events unfold. With Tony now leaning against the closed door to prevent any surprise guests I watched as Chris really began grinding into Anita and I saw her legs open as he forced a knee between her thighs quickly followed by a hand up her short skirt.

“Fuck, oh god, no, yes, mmm, no,” were some of the words now coming from Anita (maybe not exactly in that order but I sensed she was certainly getting warmed up). Chris has pulled her bra down enough to get at her right breast and was sucking on it like a man who hadn’t seen a tit for months. The temperature was certainly rising not just in the action between the two of them but also from the rest of us. I was certainly feeling warm under the collar and maybe elsewhere as well. I let my right-hand stray across to my husband’s groin and he certainly seemed impressed with what he was watching if the stiffness of his cock was a reliable gauge.

On the other side of me Neil was stroking my arm. I looked at him and he seemed miles away almost unaware of what he was doing. I cleared my throat, and he blinked before coming to his senses and apologising with a ‘sorry’.

Chris had a reputation as a bit of a player in the village and it was difficult not be impressed with his performance to date, he had somehow managed to get Anita’s bra undone, had also sampled her left tit as well as given a further check on the back of her throat with his searching tongue.

I had seen people in compromising positions at parties when I was younger but that was usually in a loud crowded room and normally things would either break up or they would move to somewhere more private before the real action started. What made this so exciting was that it was in a relatively confined space and although we could hear the music from the living room it was quiet enough to be able to hear the breathing and moaning of Anita and Chris as they became even better acquainted.

As if to prove the point the next noise I heard was a ripping sound and then a squeal from Anita followed by a much louder groan.

“Fuck, fuck,” you can probably guess who that was! Neil was panting nearly as loudly as the two in action. “He’s fucking ripped her tights open,” he said. I think we rather gathered that, but he obviously said it loud enough for Chris to hear because he looked over his shoulder at us and smiled before continuing his exploratory work between Anita’s legs.

Although I couldn’t see all the action because it was partly obscured by Chris’s body and Anita’s skirt, the squelching noises emanating from between her legs suggested that he had found his way into her pussy with his fingers, and it wasn’t a completely unwelcome visit.

Until now Anita had seemingly been a passive participant in proceedings with Chris clearly making the running. With him going to town on her pussy, she seemed to want to become more proactive, and I watched as she tried to concentrate on loosening his trousers. Not sure if it was the effects of the alcohol or the banging of fingers inside her but it seemed to take her a while before she had his trousers undone enough to get a feel of his cock. A loud groan left her mouth followed by, “Fuck, he’s big Claire,” that really jolted me as I wasn’t expecting any audience involvement from this performance, and I know it was warm, but I felt myself blush at seeming to be brought into the proceedings.

I heard my husband laugh and nudged him hard in the ribs. Chris’s trousers dropped to his ankles and then Anita manoeuvred his Calvin Kleins (other brands are available) down below his firm buttocks.

Chris gave his fingers a rest and withdrew them to quickly unzip Anita’s skirt. As it fell to the floor I could see the extent of the tear to Anita’s tights, and he followed this up by ripping off her skimpy knickers leaving Anita fully exposed. Another squeal left her lips, followed by a “shut the fuck up,” from Chris.

I feared that might put an end to proceedings, but Anita was clearly beyond that stage by now and responded with “Make me then, big boy,” the lippy woman was back. Their various movements had afforded me with my first clear view of Chris’s appendage and Anita was right it was impressive, already nearing full length. He may not have much between his ears, but he was clearly not lacking between his legs!

Anita started applying a steady massaging technique that seemed to be having a very positive effect on him. The other thing I noticed from my grandstand view was that Anita was clearly not a natural blonde and also not an owner of a lady shave! It looked like a furry forest down there which I must admit was rather a surprise. It didn’t seem to be putting Chris off though as he lifted her up off the floor, still pressed against the wall and let her glide slowly down onto his waiting cock. All that gym work obviously paid off in situations like this.

I felt a hand reach behind me and squeeze my arse. Neil’s wandering hand was back in action, but I was too engrossed by the show in front of me to drag my attention away, so I let him have a feel.

Anita seemed to have taken all that Chris had to offer albeit there had been quite a lot of huffing and puffing as she made the descent.

“Jeez, you’re tight,” said Chris as if to confirm my impression. “Well, loosen me up then,” was the response from Anita. Chris clearly liked that riposte and dropped his knees slightly and then brought himself up forcefully knocking the wind out of Anita as he did so. He looked a bit like a weightlifter reaching down before lifting the bar only here he was lifting a woman up on his cock. This version certainly seemed more appealing to me as a spectator sport – perhaps one for the Olympics Committee to consider in the future.

Chris then got into a regular rhythm banging away at Anita but moved his left hand across Anita’s mouth to keep her noise levels down. She was getting a proper shafting now and seemingly loving every second of it.

The tension was unfortunately broken by a knock at the door and Tina (Chris’s wife) asking to come in for a drink. Chris didn’t seem to be put off his stroke, I wondered if he even realised it was his wife. Tony, blocking the door with his big frame quickly shouted through the door, “Sorry, we are just cleaning up as Claire has been sick.” Great that he had the speed of thought to come up with an excuse but why did it have to be me that was supposedly spewing up everywhere.

“Give us 10 minutes and we’ll be all sorted,” he added. That seemed to appease Tina (but not me). He shrugged his shoulders at me when I give him my ‘look’. They clearly now had a finite time, but the action was still unfolding in front of us and Chris had increased his pace and Anita seemed to be hanging on for dear life. Then God’s Gift seemed to have another idea (or was he tiring from holding Anita up). He pulled his cock out and I saw a spray of juice follow his exit, before he turned her round. She pushed her hands against the wall to brace herself as he slid back inside her. Holding her hips he kicked her feet wider apart and then proceeded to bang the arse off her (I think that’s the technical term). I hoped my husband was picking up on the technique ….

I found myself glancing at the clock as the seconds ticked by, Anita leaned over and picked up a tea towel and stuffed it in her mouth to keep the noise down. I think she came hard as I could see her legs trembling, but Chris was on a mission to the finish line now so there was no time for respite. Ten or twelve more fierce thrusts seemed to do the trick, and he muffled a roar by biting into his arm as he came deep inside Jim’s wife.

They were both sweating and gasping for air as they struggled to recover, and my eyes were fully attuned for his withdrawal and the deflating cock brought with it a stream of their mixed juices. I almost expected to hear a round of applause from the small crowd, but I think reality kicked in quickly once the climax of the show was over. My husband looked behind me and saw Neil’s hand was still on my arse (I honestly had forgotten about it in all the excitement – that was my excuse anyway and I was sticking to it). “Oi, hands off please, unless you want a trip to A&E”. I’d never seen anyone move so quick, as Neil grovelled an apology. There were more pressing actions to sort anyway to put things right before the kitchen was ready for other guests. I opened the cupboard under the sink and retrieved some spray and wafted it round the room in the hope it would at least partly cover the very strong smell of sex. Someone opened a window, and someone else had the foresight to splash some bleach around for my alleged throwing up session.

In the space of a few minutes, we had the place looking and smelling reasonable, Chris had pulled up his trousers and washed his face and hands in the sink. Anita had put her skirt back on, her bra was in place as was her blouse. Her shredded tights and ripped knickers were balled up in her hand and despite her best efforts she still looked like she had been shagged into next week.

When Tony finally opened the door, he made a big thing about me feeling a bit better to a few of my friends who came in looking concerned. My husband ushered Anita out of the room, and I saw her disappear up the stairs presumably looking for the bathroom to clean herself up. Tina came in and asked what we’d all been up to, and Chris was Mr Cool personified (I had a feeling he may be a past master in these scenarios) as he cuddled his wife (I hoped her sense of smell wasn’t great – for his sake).

Within ten minutes Anita was back downstairs and grabbing her husband saying they needed to leave. I could understand her reluctance to party after what she’s been through (it would have been a bit anti-climactic!). I think the others in the room at the time wanted to leave as well but probably for different reasons. My husband and I were home within twenty minutes and with the children away on a sleepover were shagging each other senseless five minutes later. That led to a torrid night of action, and it was nearly midday when I made it downstairs to put the kettle on collecting discarded clothes as I went.

The fallout from the night was that Anita and Jim had their house on the market within a couple of weeks and had left the village within four months. I never did see Anita again as she kept a very low profile. Not so Chris, if the rumours were to be believed. Tina always had a smile on her face, and I could now understand why but apparently so did some of the other mums in the village (not me I hasten to add)!

Within six months job changes meant we were also on our way to a different part of the country, but that night still occasionally comes up in conversation and still has a positive effect on both of us. I’d never have believed watching could be so exhilarating; however, I think the intimate surroundings and the chance of being caught just made it so spine tinglingly fun (other parts may have tingled as well).