The Party

The Party

As we drove the yellow flashes of the street lights on the bonnet of the van seemed to keep time with the distorted bass from the cheap stereo. I wound down the window and lighting a cigarette sent a stream of smoke into the night.

Turning in my seat I glanced at Mick and Billy lounging on the collection of flattened cardboard boxes that formed a ‘carpet’ in the back of the van. The splatters of paint and plaster on the interior revealed the vehicles past employment.

Now, however, it served simply as cheap transport of Billy’s elder brother Ken, our driver for the night.

How to describe Ken, I guess a suburbanites nightmare, standing 6’ 5’’ with a shaven head and home made tattoos and with the intellect of a disturbed 14 year old despite his 21 years.

We pulled up outside the venue for the party, a mundane looking semi detached, typical 3 bedroom pen for semi successful working class sheep.

Peter’s parents, my mother, my aunt, uncle, and a friend of my uncles, had been invited to the opening night of a new bar as there was some undefined connection with the owner.

It was this that provided the opportunity for a party to be held at Peter's.

As we entered the layout of the house and indeed the party was typical of so many others, directly in front of the door lay the stairs and the hall to the kitchen (the bar), the front room (the seating area) and the back room (the disco) leading of to the left of that hall.

We headed to the kitchen and having obtained a supply of drinks, including half a bottle of vodka that Billy surreptitiously slid into his jacket; we made our way into the ‘disco’.

The room was heaving, and the sound of the music could be felt as much as heard. After a comparatively short time this became too much for me at least and I retreated to the stairwell, to spend the next half hour drinking and being repeatedly disturbed by a steady procession of legs to the bathroom.

Then there came the sound of a commotion from the disco, even as I stood and moved toward the room I had a good idea of the likely cause, Billy.

A guy I didn’t know, though I had seen in the district previously, stood bleeding heavily from the mouth

I asked Mick “what had happened?”

He simply shrugged.

“Any reason at all?”

“Not really”

Billy was highly unpredictable, violent and apparently without any constraints on his behaviour. He could however, be generous and ridiculously courageous.

Whilst his negative characteristics would be the cause of enmity between us at a later stage at the moment we were ‘friends’ and had become familiar with being entangled in difficulties of his making and in dealing with his behaviour.

One of his favourite pastimes for example was to offend, to push the boundaries of acceptable behaviour to, and beyond breaking point.

Anyway, we spent the rest of the evening in the seating area being joined at a later stage by a couple of girls from a neighbouring district

The small blond sat on my lap caressing the back of my neck and telling me in tiresome detail of the events of her day.

Looking across at the sofa occupied by Billy and his new ‘friend’ I received his characteristically exaggerated grin as he attempted to push his hand up her skirt.

A few moments later my lap companion asked “Are you going to walk us to the bus stop”

I was tempted to decline, as all my instincts told me that the ‘reward’ for this would be no more than a little light petting, and would cost another half hour of being subjected to inane chatter.

However, Billy seemed eager and I grabbed my jacket.

We walked ahead of Billy and his companion, our arms around each other and waited at the bus stop for them to catch up.

Her expectations were palpable as we waited, with no real enthusiasm I complied with them, taking her in my arms and kissing her whilst caressing her back and neck. As I did so my mind was elsewhere musing on the TV schedule and wondering what I was missing at that moment.

A little while later and to my relief Billy and his girl arrived. Almost immediately the bus pulled into view.

We said our goodbyes and started to walk back to the party. Billy pausing briefly to place his fingers beneath my nose “Smell that” the familiar aroma of cunt filled my nostrils “She mustn’t have washed it for a week” I noted with distaste.

His response simply “I like it like that, a bit of piss is good too. It adds flavour to their pussy”

On arrival back at the party, or rather its remnants, it was immediately apparent that our walk had coincided with a turning point in the party that is when the crowd begins to rapidly thin.

All that now remained were the stragglers. A couple arguing occupied the small front lawn.
To the side of the house a figure hunched over against the wall, dry heaving.

Mick was to be found in the front room a bottle of near empty martini in his hand, listening for some unfathomable reason to Dean Martin on the small stereo in the corner of the room.

The ‘party giver’, was now in the kitchen making hurried attempts to clean up at least some of the mess, assisted by a friend, before the return of his parents.

I glanced at the clock they should be back very soon.

The sound of a car heralded their return and shortly afterwards the door of the room opened and my uncle ushered my mother, to my surprise visibly drunk, into the room.

She sat heavily onto the sofa occupied by Billy her head lolling back eyes closed.

My aunt explained unnecessarily “your mums has had a bit too much to drink”

“We’ll just give Sheila a hand” with that she and my uncle left the room closing the door behind them.

As my mother crossed her legs her skirt rose up her thigh revealing the darker band of fabric that makes up the top of stockings.

The room had fallen strangely silent and as I tore my eyes away from her thighs it was apparent that Billy had not only noticed this exposure but from his grin my focus upon it.

“Let’s have a dance”

My mother allowed herself to be dragged to her feet and as they unsteadily swayed in the middle of the room, as I speculated as to game Billy was playing. This soon became apparent as he slowly pulled up the back of her skirt then deliberately positioned her to ensure both Mick and I would have a view of her buttocks only partially concealed by pale blue panties my mother seemed oblivious to this and indeed to Billy’s fondling of her breast.

My mind was in confusion part of me wanted to intervene, to put a stop to this, I should stop it.

My mind fixed on the words of my thoughts ‘should’ that was the core point. I felt I should stop it. That was what I would be expected to do; it would be the ‘right thing’. However, I knew it was not what I wanted to do.

What I wanted, forgetting all the possible consequences and repercussions, was for the arousal I felt at that moment to last a little longer

My mother mumbled “I have to sit down” and the floor show ended as she stumbled to the sofa, to once again be joined by Billy.

I glanced at Mick who I knew as always would follow my lead I gave no indication of what that would be and turned my attention back to the sofa.

Billy now placed his hand on my thigh and began to run his hand over her legs this elicited no response and encouraged he pulled her legs open slightly

Mick leaned forward to look up her skirt and at the triangle of fabric cupping her vulva.

At that moment approaching voices startled us out of the unreality that had formed in the room and Billy sat back on the sofa whilst pushing my mother’s legs together with his knee

My aunt then entered and sitting on the arm of the sofa places a supportive arm around my mother’s shoulders.

Are you ok Margaret?

Nod only response

My aunt concern clear on her face asked

“Do you want us to give you’re mum a lift home now or after we drop Chris off?”

I could feel Billy’s eyes boring into me, the brief pause before providing a response seemed to extend as time slowed, and I could almost hear his thoughts “say later, we can have a laugh”

The meaning of this phrase ‘we can have a laugh’ was familiar and in no way literal.

We can do what excites us would be a reasonable translation, whether that was destructive, violent or sexual in nature there was rarely humour involved.

“No that’s ok, it’s probably best if we stay here a while, make some coffee.”

The grin Billy gave me was manic in proportion.

The thrill of my collusion in deliberately exposing my mother to the potential consequences of that decision to the whims of others and in particular those of Billy was intense.

The few minutes it took for my aunt and uncle to say their goodbyes and collect coats etc, seemed to take for ever, and I felt myself willing them to leave.

“How long will they be?” Billy asked.

“I don’t know, not long” I replied.

My emotions swung between guilt and arousal, I rationalised that what was done could not be undone, that it was too late now. In reality I know I could have changed my decision but did not.

Billy lost no time in taking advantage of the situation, in ‘having a laugh’, clumsily lifting my mothers top and scooping out her left breast from a pale blue lace bra and licking theatrically at the nipple from the side in order to give the best show to his audience.

I stood involuntarily holding my breath; surely she would ‘awake’ from the semi-conscious state into which she has sunken

“Your mums got great tits”

Apparently convinced she would not awake or as likely indifferent. Billy pulled open the legs of her unconscious form and roughly pulled up her skirt to expose her stocking sheathed legs and the bare white flesh of her upper thighs.

Billy paused a moment to take the opportunity to firmly grasp her vulva in his hand and grinning at his audience to state his design “I’m going to fuck your her before they get back”

My mind I shouted that I should intervene, this was as a whisper to the voice of my erection.

So I sat transfixed, the erection constrained in my jeans oiling my belly, as he proceeded to blithely slide his hand up her thigh, and to pull aside the triangle of her knickers.

I could feel myself breathing more heavily and my excitement only increased as he slipped the tips of his fingers between the lips of her vagina.

Then moving from the sofa and kneeling between her legs Billy quickly released his erection. Pausing he spat on his fingers and lubricated her lips then directing himself with his right hand he began to push the tip of his penis against the moistened lips of her vagina.

Mick and I had mechanically moved into a position providing a better view as he achieved penetration and began with short hard thrusts to violate her semi-conscious form.

Turning and grinning at his audience to ask

“Your mum’s a nice tight fuck, who’s next on?”

Our shared reverie was quickly shattered, however, as someone audibly entered the house.

Billy quickly withdrawing his unspent erection, a comically bouncing mast, hurriedly pushed my mothers legs together, pulled her skirt and top back into place and fastened his jeans.

Within a moment the door opened and whilst I felt the guilt and the sex in the air like a fog, my aunt seemed oblivious and within moments both my mother and I were in the back seat of the car heading home.

I glanced back at the house as we pulled from the kerb. Billy stood his grin back in place fortelling of things to come.

The following morning I awake with some trepidation as to the reception I would meet down stairs.

How much of the evening would be remembered? Surely she would be aware of having been penetrated?

However, the reception I received was one of complete normality. Indeed, I could have questioned the accuracy of my own memory if not for the greeting I received from Bill as I entered his house an hour or so later.

So is your mum missing my dick?

To be continued