Head back to Chelsea

"I should head back to make sure Chelsea's alright," I said with what had to be an audible gulp.

"Suit yourself," Lauren replied. Then she turned her attention back to Liam. Their mouths connected, their hands roamed and their bodies gyrated. For a moment I was in a trance. Lauren's hoodie slumped looser, exposing her bare shoulder. The swell of her breasts inched into view.

Fuck, I gotta get out of here, I suddenly thought. Quickly, I turned and hustled up the steps, over the dunes, past the pool, into the house and up the stairs to the second floor. When I got to our room, I noticed it was dark and the bed was still made with Chelsea's suitcase resting on top of the comforter. The bathroom door was open and the light was off so I made my way upstairs and found Chelsea in the kitchen. She was sitting at the breakfast bar on one of the stools, drinking a glass of wine. She looked deep in thought, or at least concentration.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

"Yea," Chelsea replied, shaking her head to clear it of whatever she was focusing on. "I was just, umm, having a glass of wine." I sat down next to her. That's when I heard it.

OH! OH! OH YEA!

It was coming from the Master Suite. It was barely audible through the closed door but it leaked through the complete silence in the house.

"I guess they took Lauren's suggestion to get a room quite literally," I said with a chuckle.

"Well, not at first," Chelsea replied.

"What do you mean?"

"When I came back to pee, they were by the pool. Lisa was..." she leaned in closer and lowered her voice despite nobody else being around to hear us. "Giving Chris a blowjob."

My eyebrows raised instinctively.

"His pants were down around his ankles and she was... really going at it."

"Did they stop when they saw you or-"

"No," Chelsea answered quickly. "Just kept going at it."

"Did they see you-"

"Chris did. He winked at me. I'm not sure if Lisa noticed I was there. She was so... into it." Her eyes glossed over at the vision still burned in her memory. "I came in to go to the bathroom then came upstairs to get some water and they were already back and going at it."

"So you grabbed some wine and sat down to listen?" I asked curiously.

"Yea," Chelsea said. She laughed, seemingly admitting how strange that sounded. "Sorry, is it weird? It's probably weird."

"No," I assured her. "It's actually pretty hot." I leaned over and kissed her behind her ear. All the air seemed to escape her lungs as she melted at the slight touch. Her head rolled over and her lips brushed against mine. A moment of hesitation evaporated quickly as I took charge, kissing her. The kiss was light at first, a few soft, pecks but we kept going until my hand brushed her hair from her face and settled cupping her chin. We shifted positions so we were facing each other directly then our feet hit the floor, scooting the stools out from under us as we stood up.

Chelsea's hands slipped into my shorts, cupping my ass through my boxers. Instinctively, I pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her in a modest pink, padded bra. It was very out of character for her to do anything sexual that had any bit of risk involved. Maybe she was influenced by Lisa and Chris, or maybe it was our horny group antics around the bonfire - maybe both - but, instead of stopping me, she accelerated the situation. Her right hand slid around my waist and grabbed a hold of my crotch. I flinched as she pressed her palm into my bulge and began to rub up and down.

"Fuck, Chels," I grunted. My fingers fumbled at her bra strap, searching frantically for the clasp.

We were so caught up in the moment, in ourselves, that we hadn't noticed that the noises from the Master Bedroom had ceased. The sound of the sticky bedroom door popping open sounded like a cannon blast sent through the house. It stopped us dead in our tracks. Chelsea and I gripped each other, frozen as if a grizzly bear was approaching us.

Instead, it was Lisa. She was wearing the same grey State sweatshirt she was wearing at the bonfire and most likely nothing else.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," she said, a wry smile spreading across her lips.

"Sorry, umm, we didn't mean to, we just." Chelsea just kept starting sentences but couldn't seem to finish them.

"It's OK. You don't have to stop."

What was it with everyone joking about watching each other? I mean, we'd joked about it before, but it seemed excessive and over the top today.

Chelsea looked at me, her expression mixed. I could tell she wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, but I also knew that there was a reason she hadn't already scurried off.