I never felt prouder of my wife, Brooke. She not only earned her B.A. in education, but she also passed the state exam and was a certified teacher. After the commencement ceremony last night, I took pictures of Brooke, her friend Ella, a hot redheaded friend of Ella’s, and some frat guys they knew. Since no one bothered to introduce me to the guys, I nicknamed them Beard, Dude, and Bro. Beard was the big muscular guy with you guessed it, a beard.
Dude and Bro looked like brothers. Dude was dark-haired, Bro was blonde. I gave them those names because Dude always started or ended everything he said with dude. Bro did the same thing, but with bro. I gave them those names because I saw them checking out a girl and heard their conversation. “Dude, she’s hot.”
“Yeah, she is, bro.”
“I’m gonna try and get her number, dude.”
“Bro, she’s Tom’s girl.” I couldn't believe anyone talked like Spicolli anymore.
While I snapped pictures with six cell phones, Ella said, "Hey Brooke, I'm having a grad bash 2morrow. Y don't U & UR husband, Randy, join us? It's our last chance 2 B 2gether. Gary, Brad, Doug & Cindy will B there."
So let me tell you about Ella. She had become my wife’s best friend despite the fact she wasn't even twenty-three. Her most outstanding feature was the thirty-eight C cups she got for her eighteenth birthday. They were a gift from her father. I was more than a little creeped out by that. The other reason I avoided her was how she talked. She sounded like an IM. I never met anyone that spoke like a tweet before, and it grated on my nerves. Ella loved Brooke and had a bit of a schoolgirl crush on me. I know because she told Brooke she thought I was hot and offered to be our unicorn if we ever wanted a threesome. Brooke and I discussed her offer. We declined. It wasn’t that we didn’t want a threesome, but not with someone that young and immature.
Ella always invited us to every party she had. We went to the first one, her nineteenth birthday, during freshman year. It was awkward, and not just because the place she called home was worth more than most people earn in a lifetime. The age gap made me... uncomfortable. Even Brooke, who was younger than me, felt out of place with kids barely out of high school. They were still in the drink till you puke stage, even though none of them could imbibe, legally. We had left that stage of life behind.
Ella loved to tell Brooke about the shenanigans at her parties. Strip games, drunken dares, screwing as people watched. Ella was a hedonist and lived a wild and wanton lifestyle with little to no supervision from her globetrotting parents. We aren’t prudes by any stretch of the imagination, but the age difference made me feel like a lech. While Ella and Brooke remained close and spent time together, we didn’t socialize with Ella's other friends or go to her parties.
I opened my mouth to decline, when Brooke said, “Of course we'll be there. I wouldn't miss it.” Then they all hugged and kissed as I returned phones to their owners. Not one of them said thank you, to me, as they took their phone. Each one hugged and kissed Brooke once more before they walked away. Not one of them said goodbye to me. ‘That was a little rude,’ I thought. ‘They could have at least said goodbye or thanks, or something.’ I shrugged it off, took Brooke’s hand, and headed off to meet our families for a celebratory dinner.
As I started our car I asked Brooke, "Why'd you agree to go to her party? I thought we agreed to avoid those drunken orgies?”
“They’re not orgies. It’s just young people having fun like we did not that long ago. Besides, except for Ella, Cindy, and Gary, everyone else will be flying home in a few days. We'll never be together again. I'd like one day of fun with them first. We spent years of our lives working, studying, and stressing. We deserve to have fun together for a change.”
“Can’t argue with that,” I admitted, but I still had reservations. “I would prefer not to spend my day off at a party watching frat boys getting drunk and acting like fools, as they try to get into a fake-titted bimbo’s pants.”
“What're you, eighty?” she teased. “They're not that much younger than you. It wasn't that long ago we were the ones getting drunk and acting like fools. Hell, if you hadn't been a drunken fool the night we met, I wouldn't be Mrs. Robinson today.”
“Okay… okay, I concede. You win, we'll go.” I laughed as I turned into the restaurant’s parking lot.
“Good! I bought a new swimsuit for her party, and I can’t wait until you see it. You’ll love it.” She got out of the car before I could respond.
My brow furrowed in thought as I hurried to catch up to her. ‘We just got invited to this party. How did she already have a new bikini?’ I was about to ask when we rounded a corner and found our families waiting for us. I decided to let it go. We had a great dinner, except for our parents telling her how little money teachers make, how little respect they get, and how hard they work. We plastered our ‘whatever’ smiles on our faces and made non-committal sounds. After dinner, we said good night and drove home.
I woke up to the sound of a woodpecker slamming his head into a tree. “I gotta find a way to discourage Woody from waking us up at the crack of dawn,” I complained to Brooke when I saw her eyes were open.
“How about at the crack of Brooke?” She threw the covers off her body and eased her panties down her sexy toned legs. She spread her firm thighs apart and offered her womanhood to me.
I rolled over and got between her legs. My mouth found her left thigh and I kissed and nipped the tender flesh. Her arousal grew as my mouth moved toward her creamy center. “Baby, just so you know, I downplayed how wild these parties get. They do turn into orgies.” Brooke ran her fingers through my hair. My dick twitched and went from semi to full schwing when I imagined seeing some of the barely legal coeds wet, naked, and fucking. “I want to be a little wild today. How would you feel if I flashed my tits?” I growled and nipped her clit, something I know she loves. “OH FUCK! You like the thought of me showing my boobies to frat boys, don’t you?” I bit her nubbin hard, and she screamed in pleasure.
She moaned when my tongue flicked her clit while I inhaled the pungent earthy aroma of her sex. I was about to drive my tongue into the folds of her sweet spot when her phone rang. She was incapable of ignoring her phone when it made a sound, it was Pavlovian, she had to answer, no matter what. I ignored the distraction and tried to focus on my favorite pastime.
“Hey girl what's up?” she purred as she pushed my head away from her thighs, swung her legs off the bed, and stood up. It was another of her quirks. She had to pace while she talked on the phone. I reluctantly sat up and watched as she spoke with the person I hated most in the world. I had no idea who it was, or what they wanted, but whoever it was, had cock-blocked me. I sat there annoyed and listened to her side of the conversation.
“OH, shit! That sucks!"
"Of course, he can do that."
"We'll stop at the store, it’s on our way."
"Be there ASAP."
“Love you too. See you soon babe.”
She put her phone down and looked at me, “The caterer was in an accident, the food for the party is strewn all over the interstate. Ella remembered you’re a chef and asked if you'd be willing to cook lunch. She already gave her kitchen staff the day off. There's no one else. She called Publix and ordered the food. She said add anything else you’ll need. I told her we’d pick it up since it’s on our way and you have that big ass truck. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll make it up to you tonight."
I hid my disappointment. Between finals, the state test, and some shit at my job, we hadn’t had time to be a married couple in almost two months. “No worries, babe,” I lied. “I guess we gotta go soon huh?”
She looked at the clock on her nightstand. “The order won't be ready for another forty-five minutes. We have time to shower and pack our swim gear before we head out.” I got out of bed and looked down at my still-hard cock. Brooke leaned forward and kissed it, which made me moan in delight. “If you do a good job today, I'll give you a special treat tonight.” She swiped her tongue over the slit in the crown. My knees buckled and I grabbed the bed to stop myself from falling.
I went into our bathroom and jumped into a cold shower to ease my swelling while Brooke packed everything she thought she might need. After my shower, I pulled on my swimwear. I threw some things in a daypack and went to the kitchen and grabbed my favorite apron, my knives, and a few of my special homemade seasonings and sauces.
By the time I had all my cooking gear ready, Brooke finished her makeup. She wore a thin sundress that buttoned up the front. Only four buttons held the dress closed. She left the rest undone. The effect was erotic, to say the least. When she walked her left leg came out of the slit and you could almost see the entire leg. If you were lucky enough to be in the right spot, you would see her hip. Her long tan legs would catch many eyes as we shopped, and the top was so loose that if she bent over her valley would not be hidden at all.
Anyone facing her as she walked would be able to see her bikini bottoms. I ogled her for several seconds and felt proud she was my woman. I loved when people leered at her. It gave me a thrill. There was a small green-eyed monster that fought for control. It whispered that she was mine, and no one should see that much of her body.
“Is that appropriate?” I asked as I wiped some drool off my chin.
Brooke glanced at my crotch. “You like it. Besides, it's a pool party.” She said that last bit like I was a moron. “I put this on over my bikini because I didn't think it was appropriate to go shopping in a swimsuit. This’ll be easy to strip off when we get there.”
My cock throbbed at the word strip, as my imagination pictured her naked in front of her classmates. For some reason, that image was a huge turn-on. She stood up and lightly kissed me, then took my hand and led me to our car.
There was a chill in the air, so when I started the car, I turned on the heat. The radio announced that it was "sixty-four degrees, mostly sunny, with a high of eighty-one degrees, with a forty percent chance of thunderstorms later in the afternoon. I knew that meant the pool water would be chilly. I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk hypothermia and doubted I would get in the water.
We were treated to a gorgeous sunrise and no traffic. When we got to Publix, they were still unlocking the doors. The senior citizens that waited with us kept giving Brooke the side-eye. As we entered, two guys had a hard time getting a cart from the corral. I swear they had to give themselves whiplash as Brooke walked past them.
We got the food, and I added a few things I needed. We loaded it all in my car and drove to Ella’s mansion. When I say mansion, I mean a twenty-bedroom, thirty-five bathroom, fifteen-thousand square foot three-story home. It sat on fifteen acres with a four horse stable, two tennis courts, an Olympic-size pool, and of course, the outdoor kitchen. That kitchen had better quality appliances than the three-star Michelin restaurants I trained in. Some of the equipment had never been used.
Their pool house was bigger than any four houses I had ever been in, combined. I drove up the long winding driveway until a domestic stopped me. “I’m Randy. I have the food for Ella’s party.”
“Park next to the carriage house. I will have the food brought to you.”
“Thank you.” I parked, and we got out of my truck. I slung my daypack over my shoulder, grabbed our beach chairs and two of Brookes bags. She took her other two, and we walked the quarter mile to the outdoor kitchen. When we arrived, I put everything down on the picnic table and looked around to re-familiarize myself with the layout.
As Brooke and I set up the prep area, Ella ran over. Her oversized fake tits barely moved even though her bikini top looked more like a spider web than clothing. The only part of her breasts I couldn’t see was the nipples. Her pale pink areolas stood out against her pale white skin.
I shook my head as she hugged Brooke and gushed, “OMG. U r a lifesaver.” I groaned at her butchering of the American language. “I need ur help with the booz.” She grabbed Brooke’s hand and led her away.
"Well hello, Ella. So nice to see you. No, I don't mind working for free, so you don't look bad in front of your groupies. It's not like it's my job or anything, or that this is my first day off in three weeks," I muttered to myself as they flounced away hand in hand.
First, I got the smoker going for the chicken thighs and then started to make the dry rub for them. Once that was done, I poured the marinade for the steaks into a large baking dish. As I finished the little I could do, the house staff brought me the food. I got the steaks marinating, put the dry rub on the chicken thighs. I chopped vegetables for the salad and carved a watermelon into a shark, the school mascot. Once it was carved, I used a melon baller to scoop out the interior flesh for the fruit salad. I kept working as other guests arrived and were greeted by Ella and Brooke. They were typical trust fund assholes, who ignored 'the help' until they needed something.
Six or eight guys arrived all at once with the redhead from last night. I thought I recognized a few of the guys too. Distance made it hard to be sure. The new arrivals surrounded Brooke and they tugged on her sundress. I couldn't hear the conversation, but it wasn’t hard to guess. They wanted her to strip to her bathing suit.
I was about to walk over and shoo the ruffians away when she laughed and unbuttoned it. She held it closed and then flashed like a guy in an overcoat. They all cheered, which made everyone else look over. The few who caught sight of my wife’s body joined in the cheer. She wormed her way out of the group of guys who watched her walk toward me.
The guys high-fived and talked about her body and how she flashed them. ‘That must be one hell of a suit,’ I told myself as I saw a few of the guys shoot me dirty looks. “Do those guys know you're married?” I asked when she was within earshot.
“I only know Gary, Brad, and Dave. I think they know. It’s not like I introduced myself as Brooke the married lady. I told people, but I can't swear who knows and who doesn't.” She kissed my cheek then whispered, “I wanted you to see my bikini first, but the Alpha Eta Pi boys wouldn't let me leave until I showed them, so I gave them a quick flash. But you get to take off my dress and see the whole thing. She stepped back and smiled.
I reached up and pulled open the dress. I drank in the front of the swimsuit. I’m a chef, not a fashionista, so I don't know the terminology to describe what she wore. It looked like one of those Japanese bondage harnesses. There was a small triangle that covered her mons and two smaller ones that covered her areola. I stared at her dumbfounded, until Brooke asked, “Do you like it?” I nodded as she shrugged the dress off and turned around so I could see the straps on her back were clear. It looked like she was naked when you saw her from the back. My cock swelled and I licked my lips as I stared at her firm ass. I wasn't even sure if anything was covering her perfect rosebud.
“Brooke, we need you for a game.” A male voice called. I stood there and stared at my almost naked wife. My dick throbbed at the thought of all the people who would see her like this. She kissed my lips. “Can I go have fun?" Her tone left 'daddy' unspoken. She sounded like a little girl asking for permission to play with her friends. I nodded, she kissed me again and flounced off. I watched her ass as she returned to the pool. I lost sight of her when the frat boys swarmed her. After a few minutes, everyone but Brooke jumped in the water. Brooke jumped in soon after and yelled out “Marco.”
Everyone responded, “Polo.” I shook my head at how immature they were. I hadn't played Marco Polo since middle school. I tried to follow the action, but I was busy with prep. I wanted to get everything ready so all I would need to do is cook. Once it was all set I planned to join the festivities.
When I looked up it seemed that Brooke had caught someone. But she was still 'it’, She caught a few more and each time there was a struggle. My phone alarm sounded, so I tore my eyes away from them and went to the smoker to add more wood. When I shut the door, I heard a cacophony of male voices ring out. I looked over and saw Ella on the pool deck, her swimsuit bottoms in her hand. She slowly turned as everyone in the pool cheered and whistled for the bottomless hostess. Once they all got an eyeful, she pulled her bottoms on, then placed the blindfold over her eyes, jumped in, and called “Marco.”