Party girl

I called Kim on Thursday, to tell her that my trip was cancelled and that I would be coming to Emily's birthday party on Friday. She told me that, although she was pleased that I wasn't going away, she didn't want Emily to be embarrassed in front of friends and family, so was concerned about me being there. I was full of soothing reassurance that I would embarrass no-one, including John. She could simply present me as an old friend, as she had done when I met John. She seemed slightly reassured but not much. Frankly, I was going to turn up anyway. I was just trying to avoid John and Kim looking slack-jawed in shock if I turned up unannounced again.

I wasn't sure what was meant but 'party, but it turned out to be one of those parties where about eighty percent of the people were friends of the birthday girl. The rest were the parents and other 'adults', keeping a watchful eye out for drugs and pretending to be 'cool'. Alcohol was, however, flowing freely and I had brought my own drugs anyway. Music was thumping out in all of the downstairs rooms, except the kitchen. I spotted Kim in the hallway and weaved between the party-goers to say hello.

"Kim!" I said, loudly, as if greeting a long lost friend. After the obligatory air-kisses, on each cheek, I gave her a long-lost-friend-hug, slyly dropping my right hand to give her bottom a playful squeeze. Kim, who had clearly had a few drinks, emitted a half-giggle and swivelled her head round quickly, to see if anyone had noticed.

"Let me get you a drink," said Kim, breaking off the hug and leading me by the hand, through the throng, towards the kitchen.

Michael was coming out of the kitchen. He greeted me in that time-honoured manner, "oh it's you!"

"Mum, I'm off," said Michael.

"Must you?" said Kim.

"I promised I would stay for a bit and I have. But I really can't take much more of Emily and her stupid friends," said Michael.

"She's your sister!" said Kim.

"Yeah but she's not my friend," said Michael, making his way towards the front door.

"They used to get on so well," said Kim sighing.

At that moment, John appeared next to us. He didn't exactly look pleased to see me but I greeted warmly. I asked him how the English Open Golf was going. I hate golf but it is another of John's sporting passions and it isn't difficult to bluff one's way through. I pushed the right buttons and John quickly relaxed and became and animated, talking about the golf. While he was talking, I pulled my hand out of my pocket and gave his crotch a quick, discreet squeeze, to check whether the chastity device was still in place. It was.

"Didn't find the key? Or do you just like it and have locked it back in place?" I asked.

"Didn't find it," said John with a frown.

"Be a good, well-behaved, boy tonight and I will let you out tomorrow," I whispered into his ear. Another frown. "Up to you," I said, "but now I must mingle."

And mingle I did. I have to say I am rather good at mingling. Age is no barrier. The art, as I have noted before, is to get people to talk about themselves and empathise with what they say. I have never felt any genuine empathy in my life but it is easy to fake. Actually, I think my detachment makes me come across as more empathetic than most people because I am not tempted into talking about myself. The trick is listen properly, agree with what the person says, supported with some well-chosen, but not outlandish, lies to establish common interests. It's always a good idea to reflect back the person's own words. It sounds transparent but, believe me, it works.

Anyway, I was busy being charming when someone tapped me on the shoulder. It took me a moment to realise it was Emily. She was older looking than in the pictures I had seen. She was slim, bordering on skinny. Her hair was dark, dead straight and down to her shoulders, framing the sharp features that bore more than a hint of Kim. She was wearing a single piece, black linen, sleeveless dress that barely covered her bottom. Her legs were bare, atop black flat pumps. She is gorgeous. I smiled, recalling how slutty her mother was at the same age.

"You must be Harry," she said, extending her hand with a smile.

"Indeed I am," I said, "and you must be Emily?"

"And indeed, I am," she said, adding, "I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh really, " I said, "any of it good?"

"Afraid not," she said.

"Oh dear!"

"Michael told me that you are wanker," said Emily

"Oh dear, did her say anything else?" I asked.

"Quite lot for him, the little shit," said Emily.

"Maybe, I should leave now," I said, jokingly.

"Oh please don't," said Emily, "if Michael dislikes you as much as it seems, we will probably get on very well indeed!"

Echoing Kim, some weeks ago, she said she she wanted to know 'all about me.' But with someone at such an exciting point in their life, between school and university, it wasn't difficult to turn it around and get her talking about herself. As we talked, she flirted with me. I wondered whether Michael articulated any suspicions about my relationship with Kim. She wouldn't be the first daughter to try to steal her mother's lover. I kept my distance, physically and verbally, adopting the old, 'playing hard to get' approach. I did, however, allow my eyes to tell a different story.

Kim, who was now quite drunk, broke up our tête-a-tête, sidling up beside and putting her arm protectively around my waist. "Sorry, darling," said Kim, " I am going to have to take him away from you, there's someone I want him to meet."

I raised my eyes, signalling, 'I've got no choice.'

Emily gave a shrug that signalled, 'I understand. Mum's drunk. There's no point arguing."

"You know we could always pop upstairs, unnoticed, for a little while," Kim whispered into my ear as me walked away. The context made the offer too good to refuse.

We returned to the party, both a little more crumpled than we departed, with Kim sporting a big, soppy,  post-orgasmic grin. She made a beeline for John. I saw her take her hand from somewhere below her waist and raise it to John's lips. He hesitated and gave a lick. Kim grinned, looked across at me and winked.

I was about to tell them that I was leaving when there was a tap on my shoulder again. "We didn't finish our conversation," said Emily.

"I'm not sure we should," I said.

"Why's that said Emily," with a pout.

"Because you are far too attractive," I said.

"When did that become a bad thing?" asked Emily.

"It's not," I said, "but I am a friend of your mother's and you are very young. I don't want to get into trouble."

"What sort of trouble did you have mind?" said Emily, flirtatiously.

"Oh, you wouldn't like the sort of trouble that I like," I said,

"Maybe you should try me," said Emily.

Kim arrived, as she had done before. "I was just leaving," I said to Kim.

"Oh, must you?" she said, as genuinely as a drunk is able.

I was insistent that I had to get up early and really had to leave. As I was making my excuses, I felt Emily's bony hand press something into the palm of my hand. I slipped it discreetly into my trouser pocket.

I said a polite goodbye to Emily, and walked with Kim to the Kitchen, to say goodbye to John. With the three of us together, I gave Kim a key to the chastity device. I told John that it was now up to Kim whether he was released and for how long. I gave Kim polite kiss and a hug, shook hands with John and off I went.

Outside I pulled, what turned out to be, a piece of paper from my trouser pocket. It was a mobile telephone number, followed by the words, "Call me. You wont be disappointed. Emily XXX"