Chapter 2

When the door opened, sound hit Jennifer in the face like a hot, damp towel. There was at once the noise of voices, yells, music and even the occasional scream. Smells were also in that noise-heavy air, the smell of food and other odors she couldn't identify right away.

They hadn't gotten ten feet before Susan Abernathy ran right in front of them laughing and screaming, topless, her breasts bouncing up and down as she was chased by a man with dark skin and blond hair. He had on only the male equivalent of a thong. The term "cock sock" burst in Jennifer's mind. Just as it registered in her brain that the cock in that sock had been ragingly erect, they were gone.

The entryway opened up on what looked like a formal dining room, with a long table piled high with food. Beyond that, and down three steps, was a huge living room that contained four couches and half a dozen love seats. There was a huge flat screen TV on one wall, that was playing what was obviously a pornographic movie.

But what captured Jennifer's attention were the women in the room ... women she knew ... women she saw at school functions, and awards dinners ... women she chatted with at the hair salon, or gym. There, across the room, was Blanch Howard, who was her own age and who had a daughter who was Tiffany's age. She was naked ... bare ass naked! And what was worse there were two men nursing her breasts like they were twin babies. One of them had his hand between her legs. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open in rapture. And off to the left was Janet Wharton, who was topless, like Susan had been, sitting on a naked man's lap, straddling him. Her skirt covered her lower half, but the way she was rising and falling made it clear she was having sex with the man.

Her eyes ranged across the room. Linda Abernathy was pressed against a wall by a big, black man, whose hands were up inside her shirt as he kissed her. Across the room she caught just a glimpse of LeAnne Jackson, stark naked, pulling an equally naked young man toward a hallway that had several doors along it. Bedrooms?

There were more, many more, and she knew almost all of them. Some were just sitting and talking to the men with them. Two were lying beside their "party favors" on the deep carpet, feeding each other tidbits from the spread on the table. Some of the women were still dressed, though most were in various stages of undress. None of the men had on more than shorts. A lot of them favored cock socks. At least half a dozen were stark naked. All of them she could see were erect.

She realized she was leaning against Josh, and his arm was around her. Her knees felt weak. How could they do this? How could all these women cheat on their husbands? It was insane! And how on earth had they kept it a secret all these years?

The answer to that came quickly. She realized that all of them were equally guilty. Josh had said some women didn't have sex, but to even be here, like she was, put the brand of slut on her. And if any of it came out, it would all come out, and every woman here would suffer for it. Nobody would tell, because everybody had the same exposure to harm if it ever got out. And she'd been hanging around these women long enough to know that if she just left, she'd be suspect ... especially if their little secret got out.

Which left her with the decision of what to do about it.

She wasn't interested in documenting the foibles of the women who, twenty-four hours ago she would have called her friends. But now she was quite sure she didn't know them well enough to classify them that way. That included Brandi, who Jennifer saw pouring drinks, her dress down around her waist while a hot young man who looked vaguely Latin stood behind her, cupping her breasts and playing with them. He was obviously grinding his cock into her butt. Jennifer looked away so that no eye contact could accidentally be made. In fact, she came to the conclusion she didn't want to meet anyone's eyes right now.

With the possible exception of Josh, whose hand lay negligently on her hip. She looked up at him, to find him looking at her, instead of the debauchery going on all around him.

"It's a lot to take in," he said, with a wan smile.

"You can say that again," she said. "I feel like I've entered a parallel universe."

"I'm used to it, I guess," he said. "Well ... not the orgiastic sort of thing going on here, but the atmosphere of estrogen and testosterone is familiar to me. I like dancing. I guess I like to tease, maybe. But this seems a bit much."

"Can I leave?" she asked.

"I wish you wouldn't." he said.

Suddenly, his arm around her felt hot ... possessive ... foreign. She pulled away from him.

"I won't have sex with you," she said.

"That's fine," he said. "That's not why I want you to stay."

"Why do you want me to stay?" she asked.

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain," he said. "You're an astonishingly beautiful woman. But you undoubtedly already know that. So I'll admit that's part of why I'd like to spend some time with you. But it's more than that. I'm used to women looking at me with a certain kind of look. I assume you've experienced men undressing you with their eyes?"

She nodded. "You did it when I got here," she said.

He grinned. "Guilty, as charged. You may punish me for that later, if you like. But my point is that women can do that to a man too. I'm used to that. I cultivate a look that invites women to look at me and lust after me. I try to fan those flames. And women react to me." He grinned again. "Except for a few ... like you."

"Me?" She looked at him askance. "Since you admitted to ogling me, I'll admit I looked you over too."

"Maybe, but you were circumspect about it ... polite, if you will. That's not the kind of woman I'm used to being around. I find you fascinating, and I'd love to spend some time with you, even if it's only chatting about things." He looked around. "Besides ... I think it would be politically advisable if you were seen going into some private place with me. These women need to see you as having the same ... weaknesses, shall we say ... as they have."

Jennifer was fully aware of the role of social politics in her world, and he was right about that. Since she was here, she needed to engineer it so that the others thought she was like-minded. If not, she'd have to watch her back like a hawk.

"I thought you came here for sex," said Jennifer.

"Mark is our unofficial leader, at least when it comes to these birthday parties. I guess he and Brandi go way back. That's him standing behind her over there at the table. Anyway, I gather she told him there was going to be a first-timer here tonight, and she was afraid this woman might freak out, or panic or something. She asked if any of the guys would be willing to baby-sit her if that happened. I guess none of them were, so he talked to me. He's asked me if I wanted to come in the past, but it didn't seem like the kind of thing I'd be interested in. While I like to tease, I'm sort of a one woman man when it comes to relationships. On the other hand, I like a challenge, so I said I'd give it a whirl."

"So you're my keeper," she said.

"We are all our brother's and sister's keeper," he replied.

"I don't think any of those people out there are thinking of each other as brothers or sisters," said Jennifer.

"Oh," he sighed. "You have much to learn about your friends. You just wouldn't believe some of the scenarios I've heard about being acted out at these parties."

"You're right," she said. "I don't even want to hear them." She looked him up and down again before she realized she was doing it, followed by both chagrin and guilt that she had done so. To distract herself, she seized on something he'd said. "So how does your girlfriend manage to live with the fact that you show off to other women?"

"She doesn't," he said calmly. "I haven't found one yet who was willing to share me like that. At least not one I was really interested in myself."

"So you're not cheating on anybody to be here ... with me," she said.

"And you're not cheating on anybody with me." His smile was wide and beautiful. He held up a finger. "We don't want anybody else to know that, though, now do we? Might I suggest that you allow me to kiss you, quite publicly? And then you should drag me to one of those rooms down that hallway. I think there are also some upstairs. We can lock ourselves in a room for a while and talk, and then you can make a graceful exit, kissing me goodbye ardently on the stairs, or at the door, or by your car, or all three, and drive back to your normal life, guilty only of a little subterfuge and a few meaningless kisses."

"You have me kissing you an awful lot," she said.

He smiled. "I said I didn't come here for the sex, and that's true. On the other hand, a man would have to be insane not to try to get some token of a broader fantasy from a woman like you. You're hot, Jennifer. What can I say?"

Again she felt a flush of heat in her face and, surprisingly, in her belly as well. His compliments were so smoothly delivered that it would have been easy to think them glib, but the look in his eyes told her there was nothing thoughtless about his comments. He meant them. What surprised her was that she enjoyed them as well. She felt a twinge of guilt.

"I bet you make good tips," she said.

"I do okay," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"I suppose you want to kiss me now."

"Well, we're not exactly in the center of things," he said. "Not that I'm turning you down, if you just want to try one to see if you can stand it or something. Otherwise, I think we should go get something to eat, and take it with us upstairs. Who knows how long we'll be up there, and food and drink might make things a lot more pleasant."

"Good point," said Jennifer. "And while we're doing that, we'll be more visible."

"Exactly," he said.

"I don't know if I can pull this off," she said softly.

"Hang with me, kid. You'll be fine. And don't freak out if I touch you a little bit while we're pulling this off."

"Touch me?"

"Nothing too personal," he said. "I'll just make it look like we're having a good time."

"I know where your balls are," she said, darkly.

"I don't think you should touch them yet," he said, his face showing no hint that he was joking. "Maybe you could give them a little caress as you get in your car. Don't want to overdo it."

"Ha - ha," she said.

"What say we not joke about my balls. Let's get something to eat. I can't wait to kiss you."

They were halfway to the table, threading between two dancing couples, when his hand slid from the small of her back down to cup her right buttock. He gave it a little squeeze. She controlled her instinctive jerk, and realized that no man had done that to her since she was in college. She almost laughed, and slid her hand to squeeze his ass too, just because it felt good to be taking some kind of action.

They heaped food on plates. The spread looked delicious. At the end of the table, Brandi was still serving drinks. Her dress was gone now, and all she had on were thong panties. Her party favor's hand was inside the front of the panties and he was kissing her neck.

"You stayed!" said Brandi, her eyes bright. "I wasn't sure you would."

"How does one admit to being fascinated by something like this, without sounding..." Jennifer paused.

"Like a slut?" Brandi finished for her. "Honey, I got over that feeling years ago. It's only once a year. I get more attention from an attentive man here in twelve hours than I get from my husband the rest of the year. If he paid me a quarter of the attention Mark does, I'd stop having these parties. It's the same with the rest of them. That's why I never invited you before. I thought you and Roger were doing better than the rest of us. I see now that's not the case, and I'm delighted to be able to offer you this brief, but needed interlude in your marriage."

"Thank you," said Jennifer. She jumped a little as Josh's hand came to touch her breast. He wasn't overt about it. He didn't cup it, but his thumb caressed the side in a way that was very familiar and intimate. She saw Brandi's eyes go there, and saw something like relief in the woman's eyes. Picking up on his cue, she added to the act. "We're going to go ... um ... explore the possibilities ... upstairs."

"Be sure to lock the door if you don't want tourists," said Brandi. She shuddered as Mark's hands found and twisted her nipples.

"Tourists?" Jennifer wondered what fingers on her own nipples like that might feel like. Roger was a wham, bam, not-even-thank-you-ma'am kind of lover. He seemed to ascribe to the fundamentalist view of sex as a necessary evil in married life.

"Open or unlocked doors are an invitation to watch," panted Brandi.

"Oh my," said Jennifer.

"I need to go," said Brandi. "I'll catch up to you later, maybe. I'm glad you decided to stay."

With that she turned around and jumped, wrapping her legs around Mark, who caught her buttocks with his hands and, while kissing her, headed for a nearby love seat. The hand disappeared from her breast, and she glanced at Josh, who gave her a smile. For the first time in her life, she understood the phrase "inscrutable Oriental face."

"Are you sure I'm safe with you?" she asked, remembering the feel of his hand on both her ass and breast.

"You're as safe as you want to be," he said firmly.

She stood for a few seconds, pondering that. He was making it obvious he was interested. That made that heat come back to her belly, but she recognized it for what it was. It was just the pleasure of being paid an honest compliment, naughty as it might be.

"Who should lead?" she asked, as she balanced her plate of food on one hand, and her full glass in the other.

"Definitely you," he said.