Friday afternoon came and I couldn’t wait for work to finish. I had an awesome four-star resort vacation coming up tomorrow, plus a tantalizing evening with the ladies tonight. First, however, the most important thing.
I walked out of my office and into reception. It was 5:00pm. “So, Mary,” I said. The receptionist looked up and smiled from her desk behind the counter. “How’s the box going?”
“See for yourself,” she said, brightly, handing me the box.
Wow! It was full up with the forms I had handed out yesterday and just physically seeing them excited me no end. “Absolutely excellent!” Great, I’ll go through them first thing on Monday, OK?”
“Sure. I’ll keep it behind the desk — it’ll be waiting for you when you arrive. What time will you be coming?”
“In the afternoon — I’ll be traveling back home in the morning, so around five-ish, I expect.”
Mary seemed happy with that, so I left for the weekend.
I went straight home to pack. I would be competing in the amateur fashion show Elite were putting on, so as well as all the usual essentials, I carefully selected the outfit I wanted to show off. I also chose a selection of accessories and hair supplies, plus make-up and other things.
This would be my first time modeling for a while, so I didn’t want to screw up. In fact, I hoped that if I was going to be able to be seen by my clients, they might actually hire me to model some of their stuff, since not just Elite but other clothing and fashion companies would have their most important people present.
Finally, I was ready. I took a shower, then changed into a slinky, mid-thigh little black dress. It was made of pure silk, no sleeves, with shoulder straps and a deep V to show off my cleavage. I washed and blow-dried my hair, leaving it bouncy and free. I wore a black bra underneath with no under-wiring, so that my upturned breasts and perky nipples would be easier to see. Let’s defy gravity, girls! I put on some black, strappy shoes and added minimal make-up. Great. Let’s go.
I grabbed a taxi. Bonnie had given me the address to her place. While most of my models were housemates of each other, what made Bonnie, Krystal and Amelia different is that they all rented their own places. Not only them — there were others. It meant that intimacy was easier to achieve for them than some of the newer models.
While I knew for a fact that there were a couple of houses where the housemates had become close enough to each other to start intimacy between each other, those houses were for models who were over twenty-two mainly, while the 18-22 age range tended to be too young to either figure out that they could do that, or else hadn’t known each other long enough yet, or else were still in a kind of “student dorm” mentality, where they worry about others finding out, even though most of them lived only four or six to a house.
My taxi pulled up to an elegant condo in a quiet street. I paid the driver and got out. As the taxi pulled away, I saw a stylish building in a modern, trendy architectural design. Cool. Walking up to the main entrance, I opened some double doors that revealed a small lobby four elevators, two on either side of a short corridor.
A bored-looking security guard around fifty-something sat behind a counter in the lobby. He looked at me but made no move, so I walked on and pressed the elevator button. Bonnie was on the eighth floor. I arrived in a carpeted area with some nice potted dried plants. I wandered around looking for apartment 823. Presently, I found it and rang the doorbell. It was 7:57pm. Never be late for a sex party. FOMO, anyone? Plus, who needs doorbells ringing in flagrante?
The door opened and Bonnie stood there. “Wow, Cathy, great!” she said. “SHE’S HERE!” she called to the others, who must have already arrived. Bonnie was wearing a blue midi dress with strappy sandals and her hair was down. “Come in!”
I entered into a small hallway with white walls and a sideboard, plus a vintage hatstand. Bonnie led me into an open plan living room-cum-bedroom. Right in front of me was the bedroom, with a large, king-size double bed, with what you like expensive silk sheets in purple, with a black headboard. To the left was the living room area, with two cream-colored leather sofas surrounding a long, black wooden coffee table, with the TV against the far wall. Through a doorway off from that on the left was a small kitchen with white walls and a clean, white decor, then another door to the right of that, leading to an elegant bathroom, which appeared to have a vitreous, gray color scheme.
“Welcome to my humble abode, Cathy — look, the girls are here!” cried Bonnie, and so they were. They were sitting on the sofa. Amelia was in a white, floaty dress down to her ankles (her signature style), while Krystal wore a daring bright red foxy number, that hugged her figure, accentuating her large breasts and her curvy, hourglass figure.
They welcomed me warmly and Bonnie and I sat next to the other two women. On the coffee table was a selection of finger food — bread-sticks with avocado dip, liquor-filled chocolate truffles, chocolate-covered strawberries, cantaloupe, watermelon, cucumber and pineapple juice. In addition, there were two bottles of Cabernet sauvignon with four glasses.
I was surprised. “Wow, girls, I didn’t know there would be food! I had dinner at home thinking I’d better eat -”
“Of course there’s food, Cathy -” interrupted Bonnie.
“Oh, but if I’d known, I could have brought something and we could have had a pot luck supper!”
“Haha, all of us ate already, too!” said Amelia.
“Yeah, we’re not here to scarf down tons of food,” agreed Krystal.
I looked around at everyone. “So is this what you normally do — serve this kind of stuff? It’s great!”
“Sure,” said Krystal.
“Make yourself at home, Cathy. Dig in! I’ll pour the wine!” invited Bonnie, who got up to handle uncorking the bottle and pouring it out.
We ate and drank, chatting and having a good time.
After about ten minutes, Amelia inquired, “So you’ve never had food at any kind of event?”
“Huh?” I asked. “What do you mean, ‘event’? I’ve been to tons — there’s always food laid on.”
“No, I mean this kind of event.”
“What?” I asked.
“Cathy,” said Krystal, emphatically. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done this before.”
“Done what?” I asked.
“Oh, really,” said Bonnie. “Wow, you mean to say you’re a virgin?”
“What! What are you talking about, ‘virgin’? I -”
“Cathy,” said Krystal. “This is a sex party. Have you never been to one? I thought you said you’d been to bed with models before.”
“Sure I have, but what’s all this garbage? I’ve spent lots of quality time with other women in our industry before — nights in five-star hotels, silken Pratesi sheets, massage oil, feeling up each other’s bodies — you name it.”
“But there wasn’t any food?” asked Amelia.
“Er, no — we didn’t bother. There’s no point with the two of us.”
“Aha!” remarked Krystal. “Only two?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, that explains it,” she said. “So you’ve just done one girl at a time?”
“Yeah — I mean, that’s how it usually works out — a couple of models or more get hired for a photo-shoot, they show up, do the shots, then whoever’s paying us lets us stay in a hotel. The guys get horny, wanna start something, we don’t, so we go up to our rooms to avoid them. We visit each other’s rooms to complain about the guys, there’s only time to get friendly with one for that night, so one thing leads to another, and so on!”
“Oh, right,” said Bonnie.
“There isn’t really enough time to get friendly with all the models on the shoot in such a short time-frame, so if anything does happen, it’s usually just two of us, and the others do whatever they do.”
“Hmm,” said Bonnie, thinking. “That kind of explains why everyone’s so horny in your company, Cathy. It’s just a long-term, large-scale version of what you’ve just described.”
The others agreed. Admittedly, I hadn’t thought of that before.
“Well, for your information,” said Krystal, “food is normal at an all-girl sex party.”
“Yeah,” said Bonnie. “Gay guys usually roll their eyes at people like us because they never bother at all-male parties. They just get down to business.”
“I see,” I remarked, curious.
“Right, ladies, let’s intro the rules for Cathy,” announced Bonnie, and the other two agreed.
“Rules?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Bonnie continued. “Sex parties for people like us don’t really have hard and fast rules like public sex clubs or organized orgies, but this is the deal -”
“For goodness’ sake, Bonnie,” I laughed.
She laughed, too. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Listen, we’re all friends here, so we can bend the rules; but just for your information — a sex party has three basic areas: the social area, the open space and the private rooms. The social area is basically what we’re doing here — it has the food and we can chat and socialize. The open space is where people have sex in front of each other in a communal setting. If things get kinda personal, people can move to the private rooms.”
“Right.”
“HOWEVER — it’s just the four of us and this is my apartment, so we don’t have any private rooms. So we just use this living room area for social, and the big bed over there as an open space. If you want to get personal, maybe use the hall or the bathroom, or just bend Krystal over the sofa or something!”
Everyone laughed.
“That always works,” smiled Krystal.
“Right, so Krystal — where’s your stuff?”
“Yeah!” cried Krystal. “Let’s get it out!”
“Stuff?” I asked.
Krystal grabbed a large, red, leather handbag down by her feet next to the sofa and opened it. “Right, listen up, ladies, I’ve got — massage oil!” She produced it from her bag with a flourish.
“Woohoo!” said the other two women.
“A Magic Wand!”
“Yeehaa!” said Amelia.
“This connector thing that goes on the Wand.”
“Ooh!” said Bonnie, picking it up. “G-spot stimulation!”
“Yeah! Oh, and a strap-on dildo!”
“Wow!” cried Bonnie.
“Wow, you girls are really hardcore!” I cried. “I can’t believe you use all this — equipment!”
More laughter.
“It’s not that hardcore, really,” replied Bonnie. “What we do is pretty mild compared to some lesbians I knew.”
“Oh, yeah,” I inquired. “I wanna know something.”
“Shoot,” said Bonnie.
“You know you’re bi? Well, how come you’ve never invited any lesbians over, or to our company, or to meet any of the models, or whatever? I thought you would be really into that.”
“Weeeelll,” said Bonnie, slowly. “That’s a little complicated.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, right, I want to know this, too,” agreed Amelia.
Bonnie looked at the three of us. Even Krystal was interested. “OK, girls, listen — lesbians are really great and all, and I’ve had some lesbian relationships and they were fun, but they’re also kind of intense. Lesbians are a lot more hardcore, like I said, than anything we do. They think what we do is a bunch of ‘beginners’ stuff’ that they grew out of when they reached their twenties. Also, there’s this issue where a lot of them don’t really care for ‘femme-on-femme’ sex — there’s kind of a stigma.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“It’s a long story — basically, they’re LGBT, so they have had to go through a bunch of stuff like discovering they’re gay, deciding if and when to come out, who to, dealing with discrimination – stuff like that. First of all — we’re not gay — well, I’m bi, but that’s a little different. We’re femmes, too — which means we look — and are — straight. They’re basically bummed if we do a bunch of hot sex with each other yet still hold onto the privilege of being straight without joining their crowd. Also, if I brought one here, she would act like a fox who broke into the chicken hutch — she would act all dominant because we’re all femmes and we would all have to ‘do’ her and she would be giving orders and what not. Then she’ll probably treat it like a date, where she chooses one of us, kicks the rest of us out, and before you know it, she wants to move in with her pet dog, start a relationship, stop us from being friends, drink red wine like there’s no tomorrow — and on and on and on!”
We all laughed.
“Sooo, that’s why I don’t introduce you to any.”
“Got it,” I said.
A pause. “Right, shall we start? Cathy — seeing as this is your first time — whom would you like to start with?” asked Bonnie.
I felt put on the spot. “Er, well, I don’t know — how does this work? I’ve never had to choose before.”
Bonnie thought. “Well, Amelia’s kind of soft and gentle. Why don’t you start with her? Besides, I fancy spending some sexy time with Krystal.”
“Yeah!” agreed Krystal, with a twinkle in her eye.
“Right,” I said.