Andrea

The roll in my waistband was uncomfortable to lean back on, so I started to unroll it. Before I got very far Phil was at my feet on the floor. Before I knew what was happening he had pulled my thighs apart. I screamed, "Phil. Stop that!!" He ignored me.

"White knickers." Josh and Jules joined Phil in front of me. "And they are wet, just a bit transparent. You don't shave, I see." Try as I could I could not close my legs together. Phil was too strong. So I started to push my skirt down to cover myself, but Jules and Josh reached up and grabbed my arms preventing that course of action. I relaxed a bit, and tried another tack.

"So what's the big deal? I am sweating and I am damp. Seen enough? Let me up."

"If it's no big deal then why worry about it?" I open my legs wider in an 'I'll show them' gesture.

"Satisfied?"

"What a cunt. Marvelous." Phil again. They just stayed where they were looking between my open legs.

"OK. What now?" Silence.

"OK. Here's the deal. I take off my skirt." With a twisted bit of logic my mind rationalized the situation: I was concerned my skirt was getting scrunched up and badly creased. It was the only presentable skirt I had with me on the tour.

"Only if all the guys take off their shirts." It only took a moment for Josh and Phil to comply. Mo had to be leaned on by his two friends to join the party. The Jules removed her top to reveal beautiful breasts with slightly puffed up hard nipples. I stood and removed my skirt to a round of cheers.

"Stockings too?" I received a universal "No way. Leave them on."

My blouse was long enough to cover most of my panties so I did not feel too exposed. In any event, I ran all the time with high cut shorts and my panties were sensible, although the white did make them a bit transparent when they were wet. I finished up the Paeroa from the pitcher. Phil was quick to replenish it in the kitchen.

The dancing continued for another half hour or more. We were all slowing down. Phil was now dancing with Jules against his bare chest. Josh and Mo alternated dancing with me, but with no closeness. I noticed Josh sketching me when he was sitting.

We sat again and with a little bit of devilment I sat with my legs spread slightly.

"You've not seen my paintings yet."

"Let me see what you were just sketching first while I was dancing." Josh showed me. They were loose gestural lines with a lot of movement. More importantly I was naked on the paper.

"Not bad, Josh."

"Like my interpretation then?"

"I am Ok with it." As I was saying this there was a flash. Phil has used his iPhone to take a shot of me. I was provoked.

"You might have asked." I shouted. I then proceeded to take up a series of poses for Phil with a taunting "Got that one? You voyeur you."

Jules came and wrapped herself around me, but still with one of her bare breasts showing, whilst Phil snapped a bunch more of us. It came to me that Phil had been taking shots of me dancing earlier, before I became aware of his latest shots.

"Josh, where are your paintings?" I took another swig of the Paeroa. "Anything to eat in the kitchen?" Feeling hungry I strode into the kitchen. There were empty bottles of Paeroa on the counter along with lemon and lime skins on a wooden chopping block.

What caught my attention was the empty vodka bottle. I realized I was fairly drunk with the spiked drink. I never guessed. No wonder I was walking around in my panties and a half transparent blouse. At this point I told myself, "What the hell. I am having as much fun as I can remember. Let's see where this goes."

Josh's room was as neat as the rest of the house. There was a big double bed a drawing board and a permanent easel with a half finished canvas on it. Canvasses were stacked against one wall facing in. A multi-drawer cabinet was labeled with paints and brushes. A clean palette was on the cabinet.

Josh brought out two portfolio holders. He spread the first one on the drawing board. It mainly contained the animals. Josh showed an understanding of his material - he was close to the farm. The landscapes were marginally OK. I told him in clear terms to stick with the livestock and leave the landscape as vague background. He pushed back a bit, but accepted what I said.

The second portfolio was of a different order. Mainly of Jules, but with a few other adult portraits and life studies. The paintings reminded me of Egon Schiele's work. I mentioned this and Josh lit up. "He's my hero." I had rung his bell. As I leaned over the drawing board with a painting of Jules masturbating spread out before me, Josh reached around me from behind and pressed both my breasts. I could feel his arousal.

"Josh..." I should have given him a stinging rebuke but at that moment my defenses were down and he was exultant from my praise. I had been accepted into the cohort of their youth. I had always been on the outside looking in at the drama that was the lives of my students. Now I was living it for a brief moment. I wanted this experience. I needed it. Moral turpitude indeed.

His hands moved to undo my blouse as I leant forward over the drawing board. The buttons were slowly released and his hands then found the front clasp of my bra. He kept his weight on me. I could feel his hardness on my butt crack. His hands then caressed my bare breasts and he tweaked my nipples. I made no attempt to stop him.

"Andy. Can I sketch you on the bed? Naked?"

I could not refuse him. He backed off me and I moved to the bed. I pulled off my open blouse, bra and panties. And lay down. Phil came into the room with a video camera. "Showtime!" He looked at me and grabbed his cock through his shorts, whilst keeping the lens pointing at me. His vulgarity was consistent.

I lay on the bed whilst Josh sketched. Phil stroked my image with the lens of the camera. Josh then grabbed a bigger pad of drawing paper. He called for Jules to come in. She arrived and for a moment her eyes opened wide. "Join her."

Jules stripped off her jeans and panties in one motion, pooling them on the floor and jumped on the bed behind me. Her arms circled me. One hand grabbed a nipple and pinched it. The pain went straight to my cunt. Her other hand came around and her finger settled on my clit. She started to rub.

"Perfect stay like that." I lost myself in the mounting pleasure unaware of the Josh's drawing and Phil's lens capturing the moment. I came with a spasm that seemed to last for minutes, my body stiffening in Jules arms. As I came down Jules pulled my face towards her and kissed me with an open mouth her tongue exploring me. I came again gently. This was the first time I had ever had a woman touch me. I liked it. Very much.

Phil stopped taking his shot and arched his shorts over his erection. He had a fine cock. Not as large as I had earlier thought nor particularly thick but straight and well formed. He pulled the foreskin back and then started to masturbate.

Jules left me. I beckoned Phil over to me and took his cock in my mouth. He came within seconds so I pulled off momentarily with his jism spilling down over my breasts. Recovering I captured the erupting cock in my mouth and swallowed the rest. I noticed Jules videoing my ministrations.

Things got complicated from there on. Combinations of two, three and four avid sex seekers latched onto each other and anyone free videoed or photographed the scene in front of them.

The only hold out was Mo, who put his head in the door and said, "This is wrong. Good Night." And left. I missed having him. I suspect from the way moved on the dance floor he would be a wonderful fuck buddy.

I ended up with Josh. He was passionate lover who knew restraint and understood the arousal of delay and teasing my body. He had me screaming before we had finished. Twenty years of abstinence was sublimated into hours of remarkable passion and one long sustained orgasm. Strangely at the end, I knew that was enough for the next twenty years.

At five the next morning, Josh drove me to Motel. I had time to shower and dress and pack before falling asleep on the bed. My fellow travellers woke me pounding on the door at 8:30. One of the more alive women looked at me and said, "Heavy night?" She then grinned.

Later in the day, when I was looking in my purse for money I found that my carefully ordered arrangement was totally shaken up - everything was just dumped into the bottom of the purse whereas I had a pocket for each item. As I searched I found that the only thing missing was my contact list in case of an accident or emergency - they knew exactly where I worked, my father, my best friend - everything.

----------

"Have you read it?" Andrea said anxiously "What do you think? Am I in trouble?"

"I was a little surprised. I thought you'd been raped. Naturally, I didn't press you for details. I thought writing it down might be less traumatic."

"Raped. No, I wasn't raped. At first, I was worried about whether I would be allowed to leave but they didn't even try to keep me at the farmhouse. There was no force other than alcohol. It was like going along with a crowd like I am used to in high school."

"Could you have been drugged?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think so."

"Sit down, Peter. I'm so sorry to have mislead you, sweetie. It was unintentional. I can see how using the colloquial 'gang bang' could be misinterpreted. You are my oldest friend and I love you in a special way. You are like a father to me - the good father I never had."

"There is much you do not know about me. I have never told you. First off my father was martinet. He ruled the house with an iron fist. My mother and I did what we were told. We were hyper religious - he was the Bishop's financial advisor. Our Sundays were spent at church. I went to a catholic girls school. I tried to rebel. Maybe rolling up my skirt one roll, but I was too nervous to try anything serious. I was scared of the Nuns and my father. That's how I became good at running. It was my release and my savior." Andrea paused, went to the kitchen and came backing sipping a glass of water.

"I was good at art. My father dismissed it. So when I received a running scholarship, with the support of my mother - the only time she really dug her heels in - elected to major in Art History. Once away from home, initially I ran and ran, spending most of my time training at the indoor and outdoor tracks. I avoided alcohol and drugs, but I found sex. I was fit and had all the urges a young woman normally had. I was not worried about getting pregnant because I was on the pill for stomach cramps. Still am."

"I lost my virginity in the second week at University and had a sting of lovers for the next two years. I am probably a lot less innocent than you have thought. I was in full rebellion. Then I met Hugh at the beginning of my final year. He was also an athlete. He was beautiful, gentle, loving, strong, and compassionate. I opened up to him in a way I had never felt before. We fell in love and became a couple, but continued to live apart."

"One night I was feeling so horny I phoned him about five times to get him to come over. Although he was studying for an important mid-term exam he eventually gave way to my insistence. He drove his motorcycle into the back of a stationary truck in the middle of a rainstorm. He survived six months in a coma before they pulled the plug on him. His family never knew nor could understand why he was out that night. I knew."

Andrea sat silently looking at her feet for a good two minutes. Peter remained quiet taking in Andrea's story that made sense of a lot of how she had behaved over the years he had know her.

"I became celibate. I ran harder, but never got beyond the Olympic trails. My mother died and my father collapsed into a shell of what he had been before. I went on to teacher's college. I finally grew up and found myself asexual - I no longer had any need for sex. Hugh's death had created a psychological wall concerning sex."

"Although I did enjoy being looked over by you guys. It was a sort of power thing, I think. I enjoyed my own company. I made a whole new raft of just female friends. They knew as much of my background as you do - did. I am regarded as a safe teacher. I came to love my students - a sort of transference, I realize. I still love my students, but not in a sexual way."

"New Zealand was an aberration. Possibly a liberation. I was, once more, the rebellious freshman at college - for a night. Can you understand that? Far from home, with strangers. A rebellion against my loving detachment. I just don't want it to take my life away from me. We'll just have to see." Andrea sighed. "Please go. We'll talk again next week. If you want to. Peter, I do love you in my own way.""

Peter rose. He stroked the top of Andrea's head, hugged her and left.

---------------

Neither Peter not Andrea called in the next week. Nor the week following. There was an awkwardness in their separation that neither could surmount. The weeks stretched into months and then a year. This was not unprecedented. Over the fifteen years they had known each other there had been periods of over two years without contact. Life's events overtook both of them and their friendship had no urgency to it.

Peter was alone at home one evening sorting through some papers when he came across Andrea's document. Without thinking he picked up the phone and called her immediately. He was feeling lonely. It had fifteen months since they last spoke.

"Andrea?"

Before he had a chance to announce himself, "Peter. How are you? Good to hear from. How's your health these days?" The words tumbled out. Andrea was always able to recognize Peters voice within a millisecond of him speaking without the benefit of call display. She was aware of his health issues over the years and was always expecting to hear the worst; notwithstanding Peter was a squeaky wheel. He was feeling in good shape.

"I'm doing just fine, thank you for asking. And you? How are your classes?" Peter wanted to establish immediately what the situation was regard to Andrea's teaching.

"Oh, the kids are great, as usual." She never had a bad word about her students, only the administration and the School Board. Of course, they've changed the curriculum requirements again." Her voice tapered off. "What have you been doing?"

"I am back painting."

"Still doing portraits?" Peter had painted Andrea's portrait one summer a few years back. "Back from what, by the way?"

"Oh. Jill died about nine months ago. She contracted an aggressive form of bladder cancer. Refused chemo. It was quite quick, thank goodness." Peter's voice choked up for a moment, but he quickly regained control. Andrea felt her stomach sink.

"Oh. Peter, I did not know. I am so sorry. My deepest condolences. You were married what 40 years? You didn't call me." The truncated statements with their pauses between came out of Andrea's surprise and shock.

"No. I didn't call many people. It was mostly family. Strangely I am pretty well through the grief now and picking up the threads of my life. I've started painting again, taken up Tai Chi and I am trying my hand at writing my autobiography - well, the bits I am ready to tell. I've learned to use the washer and dryer, and I iron. I also cook for myself a bit. I am awaiting to hear your applause!"

Andrea was not quite sure to handle all the information she had just been given. Bravely she managed a "Bravo! Can you come over and help me too?' The mood quickly lightened as they started bantering back and forth about domestic issues.

Peter became serious. "So nothing happened?" Andrea knew exactly what Peter was talking about. "Blessedly, no."

"That's so good. Tell me about it."

"In addition to the written document I did see a doctor as you suggested and there were no complications. As the weeks rolled by and I was back into the teaching routine the sense of dread slowly drifted away. I hardly ever think about it any more. Although I never did look at the thumb drive, I have kept it - in a very safe place."

"I'd say you are home dry. I cannot think after over a year that will resurface. Why not just dump the thumb drive - run a drill through it?"

"You're right. I am sure its over. Yet the thumb drive remains a salutary reminder to me of my moments of silliness." As she said this she knew she was being a lot less than honest. The small memory stick was a mysterious icon of a glorious, reckless and most memorable evening in her life.

"Have you ever wanted to look at it?" Peter probed.

"Every week, Peter. It is like a magnet. I have a love/hate relationship with it. I even loaded it once, and then ejected it again."

"Don't you think that by seeing it you may purge the whole event?"

"You may be right, but if I am honest my real concern is that the images may reignite an itch I should never scratch again."

"That's unlikely." As the words came out of his mouth he knew he was blowing smoke. He also realized that he was excited and quietly aroused by the idea of Andrea getting turned on by what may be on the video.

He then became even more self serving. "Surely a reliving of something that happened 16 months ago and is in you past won't turn the clock back?"

Andrea was suddenly uncertain. Her trusted friend, whose advice had been invaluable to her over the years was suggesting she look her demon in the face. She prevaricated, "Do you really think it would help to see it? Really?"

"That's your decision Andrea, but think about it. The possibility of torment is now next to nothing. Think of it as a holiday video - a romp on the beach, or a trip to the Hermitage. Anyway your decision."

An idea flashed into Andrea's head. "Would you look at it for me?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wanted to pull them back. She was giving license to her older male friend to watch her having an orgy.

She was unsure of this since she had always kept any suggestion of a physical relationship with Peter at a long arms length. On the other hand, she tried to rationalize to herself, he was now a widower and his wife was taken out of the equation.

The Catholic guilt of adultery was always a component of the distance she had maintained from Peter, notwithstanding she would not have been the person guilty of the sin. She thought, 'please, please turn my offer down'. She sent her strongest willing down the telephone wires.

"That's a good idea. I can vet it for you and advise you if you should look at it. Pretty well as I did for the document." Peter's arousal jumped up a notch. He suddenly felt better than he had for years. He was quickly on to closing the deal, "I'll be over for it tomorrow evening after school - say seven o'clock." Andrea's heart sank. "OK. Seven it is." She knew he was always punctual.

"Peter I have to go now. I have some grading to do for tomorrow morning. See you at seven."

Peter's blood pressure rose and he felt excited.

Andrea felt sick, "Shit. Shit. Shit." She thought she could change her mind, but maybe Peter was right. She had downplayed her ongoing anxiety, and maybe this would relieve the concern of the arrival of a revelation out of the blue. She would be seen naked by her long time friend. Would Peter now think of her as a slut? Would his opinion of her diminish?

Andrea did a bit of grading but was stopped by the debate raging back and forth in her conflicted mind. Eventually a hot bath and a Tylonol helped her to calm down and go to sleep.

As usual Peter was punctual. Andrea hugged Peter and gave him a pot of azaleas she had sitting on a side table in the hallway. "I'm so sorry about Jill."

Peter produced an almost identical pot of azaleas from behind his back. "For a hard working teacher."

They both burst out laughing quite in excess of the coincidence of their mutual gifts. Up to that moment Andrea was still uncertain as to whether she would pass over the thumb drive. Somehow the laughter of release breached her doubt and she brought the envelope containing the drive out from her pocket and passed it to Peter.