Sally Findley was not having a particularly good time. She had come to the party because Greg had asked her, and the idea of going with him was slightly preferable to staying home alone. But shortly after getting here, Greg had spotted a blonde with big boobs and a low-cut bodice who had absorbed all his attention since, leaving Sally to wander about on her own. How typical of him, she thought. He insisted she come, and then when she finally did, there she was, dumped on her own. She hardly knew anyone, and really didn’t want to, if truth be told. She thought about raising a scene with Greg, but she really didn’t care that much, and anyway, public scenes were a drag! so she contented herself with repeated helpings of oeuvres and too many glasses of white wine.
She was unaware of the attention being paid to her by the petite brunette across the room. Judy Bolt had spotted Sally shortly after she walked in, and had silently watched her (boyfriend? No, more likely husband - boyfriend would have been more attentive) desert her for the blowsy blonde. Judy fancied herself a connoisseur of female beauty, and was impressed. The girl could be a knockout with a little work. The raw material was there; the facial bones, strong erect carriage, straight, firm, shapely legs from the look of it, hips broad but not fat, largish breasts, plumped out by an uplift bra, but firm and nicely shaped nonetheless. There was no extra fat on her tummy or hips, a point which pleased Judy. In fact, the girl seemed to carry little or no excessive fat. Probably big in sports or works out, Judy thought.
There were just a few things wrong, and those could be corrected. Make-up slightly too heavy. Her choice of dress, straight skirt tight over the hips, then up to a fluffy sort of top, cut a little too high. Probably the husband’s choice. It never hurt to make the best of one’s assets, and covering them up like that wasted them. Tiny shoulder straps. Not much of a dress for a party. Dated looking, like something out of the fifties. Definitely should be cut to show at least a little bosom, in Judy’s professional opinion. Skirt below the knees, too long for today’s fashion. Legs were in, so that skirt certainly wasn’t. If you had to wear something that unflattering, it should at least be slit up the side or something as a distraction so nobody noticed. Cut it up to the hip if you had the guts. Not many girls did though, she thought ruefully.
Judy watched the girl intently. Bored, she decided. She’d be receptive. A little more wine (not too much though, she was swilling it down heavily as it was). Suggest a little fun, another party with something far out going on. She’d probably jump at the idea. It looked like the husband/boyfriend wouldn’t be any trouble; he was too wrapped up to even notice. He’d probably be delighted to have her out of the way so he could continue looking down the front of that dress without feeling guilty. Not a bad one to look down, she speculated, but with a little luck I’ll have something interesting of my own happening.
“Try the crudities’. It’s the only thing worth eating on the whole table.” Sally was slightly startled. She looked down at the tiny brunette.
“I’m sorry. Were you talking to me?”
“Yeah. I was suggesting the celery. What can you do to celery? Besides, you lose weight eating it.”
Sally giggled. “Right.” It wasn’t that the other girl was so funny, but she had been stewing in her own gloom, and it seemed that suddenly all the wine she had been drinking ganged up on her. Her head swam slightly when she moved it and everything looked oddly tilted when she looked at it. She couldn’t remember if she had met the girl before, but it didn’t matter. That’s one of the things parties were for, meeting people. “Not that you need to lose any. But then, celery has other uses. Or the carrots. They work even better.”
“What do you mean?”
Oh oh. Was this girl that slow or what? “Use your imagination.” Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3...
Sally suddenly thought this was wildly amusing. She giggled back, “Oh. Well, If I wanted to lose anything, this sure isn’t the place.”
“That’s for sure. How come you’re here?”
“Greg. He insists. I hate it, ‘cause he never pays me any attention once we get somewhere, but I have to come to support his image.”
“Some guys are impossible, aren’t they. Hi. I’m Judy, by the way.”
“Sally Findley. That’s my name, not Greg’s. And yes, he is getting to be a pain in the you-know-where.”
“Ass, sweetie. Call it as it is. Don’t mince words, gives you indigestion.”
“Yeah, ass. I like the sound of that. Ass. That’s Greg. That’s crude enough to match the way I feel right now.”
“Sorry you’re so unhappy. Nothing’s going on here to make you feel cheery though.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m going nuts. This is a real drag.” Sally agreed with her new-found friend. “But I don’t have anything else to do. I don’t want to just go home.”
It was hard to hear. The music was very loud, in an attempt to generate the some kind of excitement. Most of the guests were looking like they would rather be anywhere else. Rather than try to shout above it, Judy took Sally by the wrist and tugged her toward the rear of the apartment. “Come,” her mouth said, although no sound came out. Sally followed obediently as Judy led her to the bathroom. With the door closed, the cacophony dimmed to a mere background.
“I’m sorry, I can’t stand talking over all that racket,” she explained. Sally nodded her complete agreement. “You want to really have some fun? I mean something totally outrageous?”
“I guess. What do you mean?”
“Well,” the other girl leaned in conspiratorially. “There’s this other party. I mean, it’s really strong.”
Sally was instantly cautious. Or at least, she meant to be. It was hard to keep her head tuned up enough. “What party?”
“It’s really wick! There’s this bunch of guys, and every once in a while they have this party, see, and they invite some girls and everything, and it’s like a costume thing, everybody dresses up. Like it’s really weird sometimes, some of the things they wear.”
Her curiosity piqued, Sally asked, “Like what?”
“Oh it’s a theme, you know, and everybody dresses like the theme. Like one time, it was circus, you know, acrobats and clowns and dancing girls, stuff like that. Another time all the guys were sultans and things, and the girls were supposed to be slaves, see. Everybody had to so what the sultans said or there was this headsman, right?, and he was in charge of punishing them if they were disobedient. Stuff like that. You’d love it. The guys are mmmm!”
Sally wasn’t so sure. “What did they have to do? The harem girls, I mean.”
“Oh, different things. They had to serve drinks and sandwiches and stuff. They made one girl do a belly dance in front of everybody. It was funny, she really didn’t know what she was doing so she just sort of made it up and wiggled to the music and everybody clapped. Finally she was laughing so hard she fell down and had to stop.” Judy licked her lips at the memory. It hadn’t been quite like that, at least for the dancer, but Sally didn’t have to know that.
“Wasn’t she embarrassed? Having to do that, I mean. Why did she do it? How did they make her do that”
“I guess maybe a little, but she was having so much fun she got over it real quick. Nobody made her do it. I mean, like nobody forced her, you know? It’s like the Sultan ordered it, so she obeyed. You know how it is, you get really into something and you do things you ordinarily wouldn’t.”
Sally thought it over. “I guess.” She couldn’t remember ever getting that much outside herself. She wondered who these people were, and exactly what sort of party. They sounded really weird. Did she want anything to do with these - kooks? - she wondered. A thought occurred that gave her pause. “The girl, what was she wearing? I mean, what costume? Where did she get it?
“I’m not sure where she got it. Most of the girls figure out something, but they always have a few costumes extra, you know, in case somebody gets invited at the last minute.”
“But what was it?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Some kind of harem girl thing. You know, wispy pantaloons and a sequined top. It’s a Roman theme tonight.”
“You know, everybody dresses up like Romans, in togas and things.”
“What do they do?” Sally had never been to anything like that. It sounded exotic.
“Mostly like any other party. You eat and drink and maybe dance and talk. Sometimes it gets a little wild. They make up games to go with the theme. Why? You wanna go? Oh, I forgot, you can’t.”
“Yeah. You have a date. Didn’t you come in with that guy?”
“Greg? Yeah. I did. Greg insists I come with him to all these things, then he goes and finds somebody like...” she waved vaguely toward the other room “her to spend the evening with. I don’t see him again until it’s time to go home.”
“Husbands are a drag.”
“Yeah. Well, he’s not exactly my husband. We’re just living together.”
“Sounds to me like a waste of time. You could do better than that.”
“On my salary, I can’t afford a place of my own. So I put up with him. It’s not all that bad.”
“Is he good in bed at least? Oops. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”
.... There is more of this story ...