A Week with Cathy Ch. 05

5A. Steve

The second evening of the visit, we ran into Rani and Rick's friends, the Conways, and their daughter Vicki, in the parking lot of Pizza World, and Rani and Rick invited them all back to the house. Scotty and Gail were already at the house, and so was our niece Cathy, so Rick called home to tell Cathy to set the table for nine.

(Should have been ten, actually, but it's the thought that counts)

We'd met the Conways before, but it had been long enough ago that re-introductions were necessary: the Conways were Rani and Rick's neighbors and closest friends, their children growing up as almost siblings, while Rani introduced me as her brother, which was close enough for now.

When we got to the house, Vicki and our kids sort of tentatively remembered each other, but after a few minutes the four kids (the Conways had another boy, who was out on a date) acted as if they'd all been friends for year. Even including a brief garlic twist-throwing incident and Vicki playfully flirting with our Scotty.

Which was fine by me, because I thought Scotty could use a little more confidence with the girls. Not to sound like a "guy" here, but Scotty was a bit too shy, and his girlfriend struck me as sort of prissy. Which isn't to say I disliked her, but a timid boy and a prissy girl were just too much in one another's comfort zones.

As if to disprove the laws of genetics, by the way, while Missy Conway was thin and muscular, a dancer's body, her daughter Vicki was Rubenesque - in a good way. And my sister... well, I'd be lying if I claimed I'd never noticed her impressive figure... her daughter Cathy still had her coltish figure.

Anyway, after dinner, the kids went over to the Conway house to hang out, while Rick led us into the Movie Theatre - which is just what he called his den, which had an enormous television screen and several couches. We never did get to see the film, though, because we got to talking, mostly about our respective kids, as three sets of parents are likely to do. We finally just gave up and decided to meet back at the Movie Theatre the following night: Vicki was having a party and had asked her parents to make themselves scarce (after Mark fired up the grill and fed a couple of dozen hungry teenagers, that is).

5B. Susan

The following night, when we, Rick and Rani got back to the house after going out for dinner, Mark and Missy were already in the living room. The two families had a very fluid open-door policy.

And by "going out to dinner," by the way, I mean Señor Taco, so we were all wearing t-shirts and shorts, except for Rani who was wearing a skirt.

Mark, having just been cooking for all the kids, was wearing a "Kiss the Cook" shirt, which I understood: It's the job of the father of teenagers to do everything possible to embarrass his kids.

Missy, who either was or looked a few years younger than the rest of us, was wearing very short shorts, and had the legs to pull it off.

The Conways already had half-empty beers in front of them. Mark had taken four more out of the fridge when he heard us coming in. It was that kind of warm and muggy night: there was no thought of asking us first whether we wanted it.

"So..." Missy said as soon as we all sat down... "we saw a wet bra on the patio floor when we went home last night."

I think all of us were making a mental tally of who was over there last night (that we knew of, anyway). I wasn't sure how happy I was about anybody's bra on the patio floor. "It looked like a 34C," Missy continued, "so it couldn't have been Vicki's. She's a D."

Unless somebody else had showed up, that left Gail. But okay, there were a lot of innocent explanations: she could have changed into a swimsuit at one point, or more likely she just pulled the bra out from under her t-shirt, which she'd probably done countless times before.

"You can tell the size just at a glance?" Rick asked.

"Well," Missy said, "it helps having a daughter who refuses to do her own laundry."

Rick shook his head. "I have to admit, I couldn't tell you my own wife's bra size."

Without hesitation, Rani yanked her shirt up to her neck. "Go ahead and check," she said. She was wearing a demi-bra, which barely covered her nipples and was almost sheer.

"Rani!" I said, trying to sound shocked, but also trying not to laugh at her audacity.

Rick moved behind her and read out her bra size, then very slowly continued reading the washing instructions, both in English and in French. We were all cracking up by now.

"It's not as if Steve's never seen me in my underwear before," Rani said.

"Not lately!" Steve pointed out.

"Still," Rani said to me, "I'm sure the twins have seen each other in their underwear."

Not when Gail's wearing a see-through bra, I thought, the discussion starting to make me a little uncomfortable again.

"Maybe we should give the movie another try," Rick said, "before the night gets away from us again." And he led us to the "Movie Theatre."

Rani tried sticking her arms into the t-shirt sleeves as she walked, got all tangled, then said "Screw it" and threw the shirt onto the couch and went into the next room without it.

Rick had gotten some foreign film, with a name that sounded like something the Swedish Chef would say. It didn't sound very promising to me, until it started: and I think it was, bar none, the sexiest film I'd ever seen.

Not that I'd seen all that many sex films, mind you

On their respective couches, Rani and Rick and Mark and Missy were cuddling close as they watched. Steve put an arm around me.

On the screen, two women were fighting over the same man, first verbally and then physically. They ended up forgetting about the guy entirely and instead exploring every inch of one another's body.

I'm purely straight, and even I found it hot.

Rick had a hand on Rani's breast, her barely-covered breast. His hand was hardly moving, I'm sure he wanted to look as if he were just resting his hand there. I tried to look away, but I really couldn't.

Mark was nuzzling Missy's neck, and his hand was on her upper leg. They were both watching the film.

"Um." Rani said suddenly, mostly to Steve. "This isn't bothering you or anything, is it?"

I answered for both of us. "No, pretend we're not here. It's the movie, I get it." And with that, I took one of Steve's hands and moved it up to my breast. I was as surprised I'd done this as he was, and he just let his hand rest there, separated from my breast by two very opaque layers of clothing.

On the screen, a man had entered the room. One of the women was on his lap, while the other was forcing her pussy into his face. But this as a European film by a famous director, remember, so it wasn't pornography, it was art.

Mark was moving one hand under Missy's shirt. I might not have noticed, but Missy suddenly said "Oh! Cold hand!" which I realized referred to the fact that Mark had been holding a cold beer bottle.

"I'll warm it up," he said, slipping his hand between her legs. I saw a glimpse of red panties showing from under her shorts.

"Not helping," Missy said. Steve used the distraction to give my breast a quick squeeze. Steve had always been reticent about showing affection in public, especially anything the least bit improper. I didn't want him to throw me down and fuck me on Rani's floor or anything, but I didn't mind him stepping up his game some. I gave him a little sigh to let him know I enjoyed it, even though a quick squeeze through a shirt and bra wasn't exactly getting my motor running. The fact that we weren't alone made it a little hotter, of course, but mostly I was enjoying watching what my brother-in-law was doing to my sister-in-law: her bra wasn't hiding much as it was, and it probably wouldn't take much more of Rick's slow fondling before she was fully exposed.

Mark rubbed his hands together to warm them up, then slid his right hand under Missy's shirt again. "Better?" he asked.

"Some," she said.

He moved his hand higher, reaching her ribcage, which pushed her shirt higher, exposing her very flat tummy. "Better?" he asked again.

"Getting better all the time."

On the screen, the man - very artistically, I'm sure, for anybody sophisticated enough to understand the fine nuances of foreign cinema - was fucking the face of one of the women.

"Best!" Missy said, but it was a few seconds before I turned my head to see that he now had both hands under her shirt, clearly on her breasts. The shirt was lifted enough by now that if she's been wearing a bra, it would have been visible to all of us - and if she'd needed a bra, a suppose, we'd have seen the bottoms of her breasts.

Mark looked over at Steve and me, I think to see whether we were offended. And when we weren't - Steve gave my breast another squeeze, this time more of a caress - Mark pushed Missy's t-shirt over her head and off. "Even better," Missy said; and then Mark took off his own "Kiss the Cook" shirt, and they cuddled together to watch the rest of the movie as if nothing were unusual.

Which nothing was, I guess: apparently the dress code in Rick's theatre, at least when the Conways were here and the kids weren't, was... liberal. I guess we should feel honored we're being let into the club, I thought.

I noticed that somewhere along the way, Rani had lost her skirt, and that her panties matched her bra in both color and thinness. She obviously shaved down there, because it would be very evident if she didn't.

I imagined the only reason she kept her bra on was in deference to her brother.

On the screen, the man had taken the woman who'd been fellating him, pushed her down to the ground, and was licking her clitoris. "I like that so much," Rani said, almost under her breath. "Oh, did I say that out loud?" she added with a grin and the same time Rick was saying "I know you do," and Missy was saying "Who doesn't?"

"Definitely," I added a few moments later, aware that I seemed to have been excluding myself from the discussion.

Missy turned her head to face me, as if she'd been waiting for an opportunity to draw me in: "Does Steve go down on you often?" she asked.

"Boundaries, dear," Mark said to her with a laugh.

"Come on, we know everything about Rani and Rick. We've got new blood here. Besides, I have a right, I'm sitting here almost naked." And as if to illustrate the fact, she slipped her tiny shorts off, leaving her wearing nothing but a pair of very brief red panties. I had a feeling Steve noted that I was the only woman in the room who wasn't shaved .

"Um... often enough, I guess." Well, actually it's never "often enough," but still...

"And how is he?"

I noticed that Rick had paused the film; the woman on the screen frozen, as it happened, in mid-orgasm.

I'm sure I reddened, but I replied "Very good."

"Okay," Rani said, "more than I needed to know about my brother."

"You were never curious all those years growing up?" Missy teased.

Now it looked like Steve and Rani were the ones uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Missy continued, "I really like oral sex. You'd better keep an eye on Steve, Susan, I might just creep over here one night, wake him up, and see whether you're telling the truth."

"And that," Mark said, "is why Missy usually stops after one beer."

"Lighten up," Missy snapped, "you know I was just kidding." And now everybody was uncomfortable.

"Let's get back to the movie," Rick said.

The sexual tension was replaced by marital tension, and we watched the rest of the movie quietly. About ten minutes after Rick re-started it, Missy said "feeling a little chilly," picked up Mark's "Kiss the Cook" shirt, and put it on. It came down to her knees, covering a lot more than her shorts had.

While it wasn't a pleasant end to the evening, I had been a bit worried about where it was leading, and had a feeling I would feel pressured to take off some of my own clothing, which I hadn't really wanted to do.

Shortly before the end of the movie, Missy fell asleep. Mark made a show of concern, putting a blanket over her and saying "she can use the sleep: she can find her way home if she wakes up before morning," and going back home by himself.