The Party Favor
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Epilogue
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
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
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
"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?"
"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
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
"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
"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."
"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
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
"You stayed!" said Brandi, her eyes bright. "I wasn't sure you
"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
"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
"Are you sure I'm safe with
you?" she asked, remembering the feel of his hand on both her ass and
"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.
"Oh? Why?" she asked, curiously.
"So I can watch that fabulous ass climb the stairs," he said, quite
She found that honesty refreshing, and laughed.
"That's the girl," he said. "If you have to be here, you might as
well try to have a little fun."
"I know what kind of fun you
want me to have," she said.
"Guilty, as charged," he said, grinning again.
She didn't know whether it was the general atmosphere, or the fact that
she'd gulped her champagne when Brandi had poured it, and then gotten a
refill, but she felt a little giddy as she climbed the stairs.
Part of that was knowing where Josh's eyes were. She was
absolutely certain he was
watching her ass cheeks rise and fall as she mounted the stairs.
Then, feeling foolish, her self confidence fled. She looked over
her shoulder and almost sobbed with relief as his eyes bounced from her
bottom up to her face and he grinned.
A surge of naughtiness overcame her, and she stopped, bending forward
so that her butt was sticking out. She watched as his eyes
widened, but he was smooth as he leaned forward and kissed her
skirt-clad cheek. She continued, exaggerating the swing of her
"You're good at this," he said softly.
"I'm being foolish," she shot back.
"I wouldn't call it foolish," he said.
She didn't answer. She was too busy trying to figure out why she had
done that. She had definitely not been thinking of it as part of
their 'subterfuge' to fool the other women present. That
indicated she'd done it for ... other reasons. The problem was
there were no legitimate other reasons to do it for!
There was a delicate, slim, accent table on the second floor landing,
where the banister met the wall. She set her plate and glass on
it and turned to take his from him, adding them to hers.
She turned to find him right there,
eager to engage in this next step, which allegedly was part of the
make-believe that was supposed to remove her as a perceived threat in
the minds of the women. He scooped her into his arms, his lips
coming to crush hers as his hands found her bottom again and lifted her
a few inches off the floor.
She felt his erection plainly, pressing against her abdomen, and was
shocked by it. When had that happened? Why had that happened? She
had already told him she would not participate in this orgiastic
behavior. One hand left her ass and swept up her back to her
hair. His fingers slid into her long locks and his hand pressed
her lips to his. She realized her arms were around his neck, and
that she was pulling him
toward her just as much as he was pulling her.
His tongue teased her teeth through barely open lips, and instinct
caused her mouth to open. The kiss became a whirlwind of
emotional response. She hadn't been kissed like this in years, maybe a decade or
more! The memory of such kisses flooded her mind, and she
writhed against his hard body. He had said "a few meaningless
kisses," but this kiss felt anything but
Then it was over, and he was standing back, gazing at her.
"That was very believable," he said, that quizzical smile on his face
again. "I'll take the food. You say something that suggests
you're in a hurry, and head that way." He tossed his head toward
"Come on!" she yipped, her fingers reaching for the buttons on her
blouse. She turned and ran into the hallway.
Josh picked up the plates, arranged them on one arm, recovered the two
wine glasses, and sauntered down the hall after her..
Jennifer pushed down on the first door lever she came to, pushed the
door open and rushed into the room. She stopped, frozen as she
saw Debby Ralston, who was lying on top of one man, apparently impaled
on him, while another man lunged into her buttocks from behind her, not
quite doggy style. His penis could be seen sliding in and out of
her rectum. Her flushed face turned toward Jennifer, and she
cried out in obvious shame.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she moaned, her eyes seeking Jennifer's
The man behind her halted, question in his eyes.
"Don't stop, you idiot!" she
screeched. "I was almost
Josh cleared his throat behind Jennifer. "Come on, baby," he
whined. "You can watch later."
The man taking her anally was going again, and Debby was again caught
in the moment.
"I'm so sorry," she wailed.
Jennifer stumbled backwards, into the hallway and reached for the door.
"Leave it open," said Josh. "Shake it off. Let's try
farther down the hall."
Working on the theory that exited and impatient women would stop at the
first vacant room they came to, Josh directed her to a room at the end
of the hallway. Jennifer winced as she opened the door and
carefully peeked inside. The lights were off, so she turned them
on, expecting someone to complain at any second. No one did,
though, so she went in. It was an empty room.
She turned, suddenly scared, and watched Josh come in and bump the door
closed with his hip. They were in a bedroom, nicely appointed,
and there was a makeup table against one wall. He set the food
and drink down there, and then went back to the door and locked it.
Jennifer stood, staring at him as if she were afraid he might suddenly
take of his outer skin and prove to be an alien.
"You must have acted in plays or musicals or something," he said,
casually. "That was a realistic kiss." He pulled the chair
away from the makeup table and straddled it, leaning his front against
His attitude was so normal, so non-threatening, that Jennifer relaxed,
feeling foolish. He wasn't going to jump her ... rape her.
He was a nice guy. He had done everything he said he'd do, and
nothing he said he wouldn't.
"This is so strange," she said softly. He was sitting on the only
chair in the room, and she perched on the edge of the bed. As she
felt the mattress give, she realized he had chosen the chair
intentionally, so that it wouldn't look like he wanted to use the bed.
"It's pretty clear you're not the kind of woman I'm used to being
around," he said. His smile robbed the comment of any insult.
"I've never met a male dancer," she said. She frowned.
"I've never met a female
dancer either, for that matter."
"If you went to college, you did," he said. "You'd be surprised
how many girls supplement their income in college by dancing."
"Maybe," said Jennifer. She looked around the room. She
didn't know what to do, now that they were sequestered. "I'm
sorry I made you kiss my ... um ... ass." She felt a little
thrill as she used the word. It wasn't the kind of word she used
in every day conversation. It was the kind of word Tiffany used in every day
conversation, but that was something Jennifer didn't approve of.
"Oh, trust me," he said. "I didn't mind. And it was the
perfect thing to do. I think stable, proper Jennifer has a teensy
bit of vamp in her."
"I used to," she said, automatically. "I used to tease Roger
"Roger. He must be my competition," said Josh.
"He's my husband," she said,
darting him a dark look.
"And let me guess. You had a child two or three years ago, and a
bit of the shine has worn off of having a family."
"I had a child fifteen years
ago," she snorted. "And the shine got ripped off when my daughter hit
"You can't possibly be that old. Oh, I get it," he said.
"Your husband robbed the cradle and knocked you up when you were
fourteen. Then he had to marry you, and somewhere along the line
after that he struck it rich somehow."
She stared at him. "I'm almost thirty-five, thank you very much."
"You'll have to prove that to me," he said, negligently. "You got
"You're playing with me," she said. "Why?"
"I'm not playing with you. I don't believe you have a
fifteen-year-old daughter. You're obviously educated far beyond
high school. Women like you don't have children until they think
the time is right, which usually means when they are in their middle
twenties. I figure you're maybe twenty-eight. Hence, this
daughter you're talking about is less than five years old." He
smiled, as if he expected her to gasp and ask him how he knew all that.
Her purse was in her car, locked in the trunk. There was a keypad
on the door to let her in, so she didn't need to take anything inside
when she went to ... parties. The only thing she had was the
locket around her throat. The picture was three years old, but it
would have to do. She reached for the pendant, manipulated the
catch and opened it.
"Here," she said. "This was taken in the Catskills, three years
ago. As you can clearly see, Tiffany is not a five year old."
He got up and came over. She saw his eyes flick to the locket and
examine the picture, but then they slid off and went to her
breasts. She looked down to see that, in leaning forward to show
him the locket, her blouse had fallen away from her chest. The
lavender bra she had on, lacy and thin, because it made her feel
feminine, was plainly visible. Her hand automatically went to
push the fabric against her chest. She felt her cheeks warm up.
"I'm shocked," he said, standing up.
"Why?" she asked.
"Are you sure that's your daughter?"
She stared at him. "I was there when she was born," she said,
sarcasm heavy in her voice.
"She just doesn't have your looks," he said. "That's all. She'll
never turn men's heads like you do."
"You are so full of it," she said. Immediately she thought it odd
she'd have turned that phrase. She couldn't remember the last
time she'd used it.
He ignored her. "So Tiffany is fifteen. That still makes
you nineteen when you had her. Don't tell me you're one of those
whiz kids who started college at sixteen and finished with a masters
three years later."
"Of course not," she said. "We weren't planning on Tiffany.
It made it hard, but we got married. We both finished school."
"So why didn't you have more kids?" he asked. "If you were my
wife I'd have kept you barefoot and pregnant until ..." He
shrugged. "I guess you'd still
be barefoot and pregnant."
"You sound so much like an American," she said, marvel in her
voice. "But your looks don't go with it."
He put his hands together and bowed. "So solly, missy. I tly to
sound mo like a chinaman. I tly leally hahd."
"I'm so sorry," she said, horrified. "I didn't mean it that
way. I'm not racist."
"Of course you are," he said. "You just made reference to my
ethnicity, which means you noticed my race. If you notice my
race, you are by definition, racist."
"Hogwash!" she said vehemently. "Simply recognizing someone's
race doesn't equate to racism. I don't think I'm any better than
you, or that you're inferior. Both of those traits are inherent
in real racism."
"Then why did you apologize?" he asked, smiling.
"I stereotyped you," she said. "That's not the same as being
"You apologized for sounding racist."
"I apologized because I said something thoughtless!" she
insisted. "What do you want me to do?"
"Kiss me again," he said. "It will prove you're not a racist."
She blinked. She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or not.
"I already kissed you ... out there," she said. "In front of all
those people," she added.
"That was under duress. It meant nothing," he said, waving a hand
at her. "That was merely your effort to pull the wool over your
Jennifer remembered that kiss. It hadn't felt like it was under
duress. And it certainly
hadn't felt like it meant nothing. There was a twinge of
conscience as she realized she'd enjoyed that kiss. Then she felt
distinctly guilty that the idea of kissing him again wasn't in the
least way repugnant. Suddenly she realized he had suggested it,
even though she had insulted him.
"I know what you're trying to do," she said, slowly.
"What am I trying to do?" he asked.
"You're trying to seduce me."
"Oh good grief," he said. "That's not it at all."
"Then what?" she asked.
He snorted, as it to say a blind person could see his point. "I'm
trying to get you to seduce me, of course," He rolled his
eyes and said "Is that deep red your real
She was still trying to make sense of his first statement, about her
seducing him, but she got the "joke."
"I'm not blond," she said.
"Oh, believe me, I know that."
"What? How do you know?" She felt like she was losing
control of the situation.
"Because a blond would have kissed me by now." He grinned.
He was impossible not to like. That's what it boiled down
to. He was killer cute, intelligent, funny and a real gentleman,
for the most part. It was no wonder she'd liked kissing
him. She remembered the feel of him lifting her, and of his bulk
against her abdomen.
"Do you have an erection right now?" she asked, impulsively.
He blinked. She took that as a sign that she'd surprised him and felt
peculiarly proud of herself.
"Not exactly," he said, carefully.
"How can you not exactly have an erection?"
"I didn't have one, but as soon as you asked me if I did, it started
"I'm not. I love having erections."
"What an odd thing to say."
"Not at all. Remember, I'm an exotic dancer. I have erections for
"That just sounds so ... I don't know," She shrugged. "I can't
believe I'm sitting here having a conversation with an exotic dancer
about his erections. It's just bizarre!"
"Are you having a good time?" he asked.
"What?" She looked confused.
"Do you desperately wish you were somewhere else?" His face was
"Well ... no. I guess I don't." She blinked. "How odd
"Thank you," he said. "I'm having fun hanging out with you, too."
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