Note from Jackie: Some of the descriptions and accounts below were assembled by me from third-person sources who witnessed them. I was not present at most of them. These are excerpts from a diary I kept at the time.
The day of the big party arrived. The massive amount of detail planning was finally going into action. All bedrooms used by the sisters living in the house were cleaned and made suitable for visiting eyes. The final guest list was reviewed and compared to the on-line responses to the invitation. There could be no errors or omissions. The table for direct donations was arranged with pamphlets from the organization that runs the shelter. Donation receipt pads were stocked, along with dozens of cheap ballpoint pens.
The kitchen was ready for the caterer. The liquor was out at the bar and the beer was on ice both inside the house and in locked ice chests on the back porch. Dozens of soft drinks and fruit juices were on ice, along with sparkling water, Gatorade, Red Bull and other energy drinks.
The music soundtrack was prepared and played over the Bose house-wide speaker system for all to enjoy as they worked. The sisters who prepared the playlist used songs from the Billboard Top 100 current list as well as from the prior year's final list. There was going to be space in the living room and main level TV room for at least 10 to 12 dancing couples, depending on the track being played.
Upstairs, the ladies were ironing their dresses, slacks and blouses. All were going to be dressed to kill, as they say. The main level was going to be a sophisticated cocktail party, appropriate for any group of wealthy people. Their best and most expensive jewelry would adorn every neck and wrist. The ladies would help each other with makeup and those damned little clasps used on even expensive jewelry.
In the rec room, the final cleaning was complete, and the massive TV was on showing a college football game. The plan was to dim the lights to enable a more suitable setting for ten couples copulating in a frenzy of energy and fun. A small stack of towels, baby wipes and a tube of KY were at each entertainment station.
The party invitation set the expected arrival time at 7:00pm. The time of midnight was mentioned as the ending time but that was flexible. There would be some hanging on after that if history was repeated. The security guys would clear the house by 1:00am.
Deb and I arrived at the house at 5:15. We joined our sisters in the kitchen for non-alcoholic drinks and a few snacks. The caterer and her team arrived at 5:30 to do last minute prep of hors d'oeuvres. The BBQ and many other tasty finger foods were unloaded at the back door. The sorority house was a beehive of activity with everyone in a good mood. Even the weather cooperated.
At 6:35, the three private security men arrived. We stared wide-eyed and slack jawed. These young retired Marines made my pussy tingle. Marines always stood straight and proud and I could feel myself getting aroused just standing and talking with them. I thought no guest would mess with these guys. They were real kick-asses, not like the overweight dead-head bouncers at most bars and clubs. I was sure the sisters would be all over them.
Each Marine circulated among the sisters to introduce themselves. Shawn would be at the entrance with me and Denise to welcome the guests and check them in. While Denise and I would be all smiles, wearing our sexy cleavage-revealing cocktail dresses, Shawn would be the serious policeman of IDs and age verification.
Jackson would be stationed on the main floor to monitor alcohol consumption and police for drugs. All efforts would be made to have a friendly, interesting and fun time interacting with other rich kids pretending to be adults. Jackson would also monitor the traffic going to and coming from the rec room. Although the goal was to have only fifteen men at a time down there, enforcement would be very difficult, maybe impossible.
Cooper would have the most interesting station in the rec room. He was briefed on the planned activities and immediately realized he was likely to see the most pussy at work than ever before in his life. Not even in the brothels of Amsterdam had he seen women of such beauty spreading their legs. He wasn't married but was dating many women. Pussy was not a stranger to him. He was comfortable being with naked women, but this group might be overwhelming.
In the rec room, Cooper was responsible for monitoring the activity for any evidence of drugs, over consumption and improper behavior, whatever that is in a brothel.
