Part I
Melody watched the fields of Black-eyed Susans, Indian paintbrush and prairie broomweed flash by. Behind them the live oaks provided a somber green backdrop to the vibrancy of July in central Texas. She glanced down for the nth time at the dinner gown she'd bought for the occasion. Its deep red sequins set off the dark honey of her skin and the color was repeated in the dangling chains of garnets around her throat and below her ears. She fiddled with the necklace nervously.
"Is this party absolute necessary, Scotty?"
Her husband's face turned wistful. She could see that he was making some effort to keep his pale eyes on the road. Obviously, he would rather look at her.
"Sweetheart, I only see three options. We go to the party and embrace the corporate culture or I kiss off any chance of promotion or I go find an entirely new job. The last would be desperate in this economy even if my particular set of skills were more general. The second would hurt a lot in the long run since the real perks and profit sharing start at the next level above mine. And the first worries you. So right now I'm just the pilot. The car is going to the Perkins' ranch. Unless you give me firm direction otherwise, it keeps going."
His wife chewed her lips. Scott was right. It had been hard enough for him to land a job doing what he knew well and everything about the company had seemed almost too good to be true, at least at first. Then, quietly, they had started hearing about the 'corporate culture', especially about the parties the CEO and his wife threw. Somehow Scott had managed to get employed by a bunch of swingers and anyone who had any plans for advancement was expected to play with them.
"Don't you know any details? I mean, will there be an orgy?"
"No, I don't think so. All the men were told to reserve rooms in the better class of motel in the area. At least all the—uh—playtime will be in private." He ran a hand through his blond crew-cut. "Other than that it's as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I've been told not to worry and that nothing bad ever happens. I don't know what that means but I can say that I did some checking. PW Associates seems to be an unusually stable company and so are its people. According to what I can find no one ever seems to leave the company or get divorced despite the way they behave. Go figure."
Melody smiled ruefully. "I guess that's some consolation. At least I won't lose you to some red-haired siren."
"Fat chance of that! This white boy has a real preference to dark meat, my lady, especially yours."
*****
The heat still shimmered on the pavement when they turned up the 'driveway' to the ranch house. White rail fences kept fat Hereford cattle and sleek quarter-horses off the gravel and huge, old pecan trees shaded their route. Evening may have been approaching but it was still hot. Scott parked the car in the wide turn around that fronted the ranch house. Melody thought that for people who were as rich as the Perkins, the house was remarkably unpretentious and homey. True, it had two and a half stories and the front porch was as large as some entire lots but the white clapboards and green shutters spoke of a casual life style that made her fear that she might have over-dressed for the occasion.
The worry was relieved the instant the front door opened and Eva Perkins swept the couple up in an enthusiastic hug.
"Darlin's, we're so glad you made it. Melody, what a wonderful dress! When things settle down just a bit you must tell me where you got that. I'd need a different color, of course, but the cut and those sequins? Girl, you are a sight to behold. Why you may even take some of these dirty old men's attention away from Sonya. She's the pregnant one in yellow satin? Over by the bar? Just look at all those lechers droolin' over the little thing. It's almost enough to make me want another baby—almost! Scott, honey, take your gorgeous wife around and introduce her."
The modest sized crowd could only be described as brilliant. Every woman, no matter the age, seemed to be svelte and fit and if there was even one man who didn't spend at least an hour each day in the gym, he was well-hidden. Tuxedos fit close and gowns sparkled though Melody had to observe that a number of those dresses either defied gravity or were held on with costume adhesive. Cleavage and plunging backs seemed the order of the night and there were plenty of hems slit to the waist, as well. If she had any doubts as to the nature of the group, the overt sexuality of the other women made short work of them. Even Sonya Kwan, well into her second trimester, wore her belly like a pair of 'fuck me' heels. The evening's heat wasn't just meteorological.
After her second glass of fine champagne, Melody began to relax and enjoy herself. The men drifted off to talk about deer hunting, dogs, college football and the Cowboys' chances for the coming season. The women clustered in little groups where the conversation started with clothes, children and the impossibility of husbands but soon worked its giggling way down to who did what in the bedroom.
After an hour or so of conversation and hors d'oeuvres a bell sounded and the crowd flowed out onto the veranda next to the Olympic-sized pool. It was at that time that Melody felt a tap on her elbow. Scott's cubicle partner, Annabel Sanchez, leaned in close and spoke softly in her ear.
"Nervous, Melody?"
"Well—yes. Maybe even whatever is the next step
up
from nervous."
"I understand. It's your first time here. And to be honest, I am too, always. This is a good company and a great bunch of people but there are just some men in the crowd I really would rather not have inside me. I've become quite the ace blow-job artist because of it and no one has ever complained but I think you will find that this helps, it really does."
She held up a squeeze bottle to her nose and put a quick sniff up each nostril. She handed it to Melody.
"Here, it's called PL-6983. The stuff is the only real aphrodisiac in the world. Believe me, honey, it works! You take a good sniff in each nostril now and by the time you need it, you'll be ready."
Hesitantly, Melody complied. It felt like the sort of nasal spray she used when she had a cold. There was no scent, no sensation of any kind.
Hmpf! It's probably a placebo. I'll have better luck with the champagne.
Eva stood up on a platform and rang the bell a second time.
"Now have all the gentlemen surrendered their car keys? Yes? Good. Just to remind everyone how it works, I've put all the keys into this big black fish bowl with the velvet over the top? I've got all the ladies names in this little ol' bucket over here? As I call your name, girls, you come on up and reach into the bowl, take out the set of keys and hold it up high in the air so the men can see. The owner of the keys will come up and claim both the keys and you. Those of you usin' the bedrooms here can just strip down at once but I'd suggest that those whose lovers-for-the-night have rooms down the road should keep your clothes on, at least until you get inside?"
There was a titter of laughter and then Eva called out, "Gloria Fredericks."
A tall, slim brunette walked briskly up to the bowl and pulled out a set of keys with a three-pointed star. She held it up and three men leaned forward but only one smiled broadly.
"Ah, Gloria my dear, we couple again. And I just happen to have dibs on the bedroom upstairs under the gable."
He walked up to her with his hand out. She dropped the keys into his open palm and then, smiling, reached up behind her neck. Unfastening the catch, she let her gown drop to the pavement, unhooked her bra from between her delicate breasts and pushed her panties down to her ankles. Now naked she too held out her hand and together they walked back into the house.
Melody gulped. What surprised her most was how calmly the woman had taken it. She had actually stripped down naked in front of a bunch of people that her husband worked with or that she worked with and walked off to be screwed by a man chosen completely at random. This was not the way she understood swingers to operate. At least they usually got to know each other first. But then, the man had said something about "couple again" so perhaps they did know each other, at least in the Biblical sense.
