I'm a member of an informal club, a group of women friends. It's like a bridge club, only a little more intimate.
We take turns hosting the get-together. One night each month, one of us ladies shoos away her husband to the sports bar to watch football or to someone else's house for poker. She cleans the house, arranges flowers, lights candles, and fixes a nice buffet with plenty of wine. Everything is perfect, warm and inviting and feminine. As the night's hostess, she is a little nervous, anxious for everything to be just right.
Each of the ladies gets ready for the evening as though for a date, with a facial and a manicure, lots of perfume, and sexy underwear. The husbands don't necessarily wonder about that. Any woman would naturally want to look her best to go to a bridge party. Everyone knows that women try harder to impress each other than they do to impress men. That is because women can be catty and cruelly critical to each other. But not to their BEST friends, of course.
When the guests arrive, the hostess serves drinks and light appetizers to give the ladies something to do with their hands. There is soft music, candlelight, and nervous laughter, just like any other party. But these ladies are BEST friends, and they get comfortable with each other very quickly. Besides, there have been other parties and there are unwritten rules. There is an undercurrent of excitement, a sense of anticipation that gradually builds.
At first, it's just like any other party. A stranger wouldn't notice anything except, perhaps, that the ladies touch each other more than is usual. The little hugs and kisses on the check as each newcomer arrives seem a little more lingering than the ones at the neighbourhood pot- luck dinner. As they catch up on the gossip, one lady might reach out to another for a quick little caress, just to emphasize what she is saying. No harm in that.
The build-up is so gradual that no one knows exactly how or when the entertainment starts. Perhaps someone kicks off her shoes so she can dance a little. Perhaps a casual caress becomes too passionate to dismiss. Somehow, by mutual consent, all of the ladies begin to undress each other and the sensual undercurrent becomes overt.
Because she is the hostess, one lady is the centre of attention. None of the guests mind. That is part of being a polite guest, you understand. Besides, each will have her turn to be the hostess in other months to come and has already had a turn in months gone by. That is what makes this party such a comfortable arrangement--it has always been and always will be.
One guest gives the hostess passionate kisses while the others fondle her breasts, suck her nipples, lick between her thighs. It's her party, so the first orgasm is the hostess's right, just like the tradition that the birthday girl gets to make a wish and blow out the candles. But none of the guests are masochistic about it. Their free hands roam restlessly over their own breasts and thighs. They entangle legs and writhe against their neighbours. Everyone recognizes that, while a little wait can enhance the experience, waiting too long can be frustrating.
Each lady has her favourite role in the complicated dance, but no one feels disappointed at her task for the evening, since they all have merit. Mere kisses, for example, seem the most pedestrian part of the entertainment. However, the lady kissing the hostess has the best view of what all the other ladies are doing. Her hands are free, so, if she yearns for breasts or the slippery feel of another woman's excitement, she can reach the other guests. Perhaps one of the ladies has a particular fondness for soft, round cheeks--an ass fan, to be crude. If it isn't her turn to play with the hostess's behind, surely someone's is in reach. The same can be said for breasts or whatever else is the personal favourite. Sampling a little bit of everything seems best of all.
The most coveted position for a guest is between the hostess's legs, of course. That particular lady gets the privilege of nibbling, sucking, licking, tasting that slightly tangy, slightly salty, indescribable but very recognizable taste. But she is farthest away from all the other guests and has nobody to writhe against, so she gets the most desperate the fastest.
After the first orgasm, the already decaying organization falls apart completely. Guests and hostess become equals, or more so. Part of being a good hostess is making ALL of your guests feel at ease.
The ladies drift apart into pairs and small groups. Couplings are fluid and changeable, but some ladies spend more of their time together than others do. They are all BEST friends, so no one gets jealous. However, everybody recognizes that some friendships are better than BEST.
Like all parties, this one ends by fits and starts. One lady has to get home before midnight so the babysitter can leave. Another has to go to work in the morning. One by one, as things wind down, the ladies get dressed, freshen up, and remove all traces of the evening's entertainment. They head home leaving the hostess with the dirty dishes. But no one feels let down or disappointed that the party is over. For the next thirty days or so, they will think of the next party and the other parties in other months to come and in other months gone by.
By Louise Kelley LouiseKelley@hotmail.com