Frisky . . .

Mike and I got out for a little adult time on Saturday. And a little ADULT time, too!

After leaving the kids with their grandparents, we went into the city to meet another couple for a small dinner party at their loft, where we also would be staying the night. It's a nice change - Mike's not a big drinker, but sometimes, it does get old, being the designated driver all the time, so it was relaxing for him to be able to drink along the with the rest of us.

And drink we did. Not crushing hangover-style binge drinking, but enough to loosen up everybody's tongues. With only us, our hosts, and one other couple, it was just the right size get-together to be able to hear everyone talk without shouting over the roar of the party. And when you are able to hear everyone talk, it seems like people are able to be a little more intimate in what they're talking about.

No, there were no major revelations, no one came out of the closet and admitted that they were swingers, but we did talk very frankly about what turns us on and off in the bedroom, which is really refreshing. It's not too often that you can truly talk about this subject with people you know, and who know you, very openly. Which is silly, because sometimes, the best people to turn to for advice on some of these subjects should be the people that know you best. So it was nice to be able to talk about the things we find exciting, and find that we're not too different than the rest of our friends.

And after the other couple left, and our hosts made up the futon for us, we turned out the lights and settled in for the night. I haven't slept on a futon since I was in college, but something about it kind of turned me on. Maybe I was remembering all those different boys that I used to seduce in my studio apartment, or maybe it was all the racy talk, but I was horny, and I couldn't keep my hands off Mike.

He was a little reluctant at first. Not that he was too drunk, cause he wasn't. Just a little shy, since this loft was pretty much an open plan layout. There was a kind of a partial wall separating the bedroom area from the living area and the futon, but it wasn't really designed for privacy.

But after Mike and I heard our hosts whispering, and then grunting a little bit, and then very quietly moaning (like we couldn't hear them!), I reached over and felt his hard-on. And when I felt it, I wasn't going to waste it, or let him wiggle out of this, so I threw my leg over his waist and straddled him.

We were whispering to each other as I slowly slid up and down him, trying to be quiet, and just kind of giggling a little, when we heard footsteps on the creaking floor, and then we saw the bathroom light go on.

We both must have looked up, because our hostess, who was silhouetted in the bathroom door, whispered an apology. "Sorry - hope we didn't wake you guys just now," she said, and then she just kind of stood there for a moment, watching us.

Mike and I both laughed. We were just covered by a thin sheet, and even in the semi-darkness, she could tell that I was straddled over him and moving, so we really didn't make a pretense of trying to hide what we were doing.

"No," I said, "you didn't wake us, but you did kind of inspire us."

It took her a minute, then it dawned on her. "Omigosh - you guys are having sex! I'm so sorry," she whispered loudly.

"When you gotta go, you gotta go," said Mike. "Don't worry about us."

"No really, sorry," she said again. "This is kind of weird. I mean, I don't think I've ever actually talked to anyone while they were having sex. Like, I'm standing here all weird, and you guys are probably thinking, 'leave already', and I'm just babbling." But she still stood there, flustered maybe, not really moving.

I kept moving my hips the whole time. I was really turned on by the whole exhibitionist-thing going on with our friend standing there. I think she kind of realized that we weren't going to stop at this point, and maybe seeing me moving on top of Mike broke her out of her trance. "So, uh, okay, I really should get out of your hair." She went into the bathroom. "I'll be done in a minute. Carry on, or whatever, I guess."

We did. Mike and I heard the toilet flush a few minutes later, and the door open, and the creaking as she tiptoed back to her bed. And just as she was walking past us again, I could sense Mike smiling beneath me as he whispered loudly to her, "sweet dreams, Sherry."

That got a nice little giggle out of her, and a minute later, we were finishing up ourselves. Mmmm.